As Chardo stepped forward, his gaze sharpened—and the pressure in the air sank lower and lower.
He didn't even move. He didn't even "charge up." He simply accumulated presence, and the rooftop beneath his feet began to fail under the weight of it.
"Pathetic."
Annoyed, Chardo stomped—shattering the floor—and surged straight at Cid.
Speed wasn't his specialty, but he was Level 7. Even his "weak point" was leagues beyond a Level 5's strongest trait.
"Take this!"
Chardo swung his sword. Cid drew his slime blade to block.
Their first exchange ended with Cid being slammed back—launched away at terrifying speed.
And yet Chardo showed no smug triumph at all.
"…You dumped all my force?"
Shadow had been knocked back so violently it made a spectacle of the battlefield—yet when he stood before Chardo again, the Overlord could tell with certainty:
He was completely unhurt.
From behind that mask, it almost sounded like laughter.
"Your strength is impressive. But you don't seriously think that's all you've got, do you?"
Cid flicked his wrist. A slime sword wouldn't chip.
Chardo grinned.
He wouldn't bother boasting that his technique surpassed even Ottarl's.
The truth was simpler:
Against Shadow, Chardo's technique was the inferior one.
"You've got nerve. In technique, I'd call you the strongest. But a fight isn't decided by technique alone!"
Chardo cleaved down.
The entire building began to collapse like it was made of paper.
"Ridiculous swordsmanship… That destructive output is practically magic."
The ground lurched beneath Cid's feet and he leapt away—not because his stance was unstable, but because the floor had ceased to exist. He needed a new foothold.
At a distance, Erebus had already retreated far back, watching the decisive battle from safety.
"Is it safe here? If it isn't… will you protect me?"
Even as he spoke, Erebus didn't look at Alfia.
He couldn't bear to tear his eyes away from the duel.
"It's not safe. And I won't protect you. I'm not good at protecting the weak."
Alfia shook her head without mercy.
She was a mage built for destruction. She had no magic meant for shielding others.
And besides—Chardo had taken the first turn. She was in a foul mood and had no interest in babysitting.
"So this is the punishment for choosing evil…"
Erebus sighed, then obediently backed off even more.
Against those two, a god with sealed divinity had no business being anywhere nearby.
Still… having to watch such a duel from afar—what a tragedy.
If his mission weren't unfinished, he'd genuinely want to see the entire clash up close.
To witness an Overlord and Shadow fight to the death—if he got sent back to Heaven by a pillar of light afterward, it would still be worth the ticket price.
Alfia ignored him and stayed at the nearest vantage point, eyes locked on the battle.
Within the drifting ash, only vague silhouettes could be seen exchanging blows—
But the disturbances from Chardo were colossal. Every so often he would release one or two slashes that could erase an entire street.
Before long, adventurers elsewhere noticed the commotion.
Whether they belonged to Orario or the Dark Faction, everyone who saw it understood:
This was a battle beyond imagination.
Within thirty meters of the clash, no one dared step closer.
And because the two fighters kept shifting positions as they fought, the onlookers were forced to keep moving as well, maintaining at least that thirty-meter buffer at all times.
Otherwise, the shockwaves alone would swallow them whole.
Even so—
Not a single adventurer who had witnessed it was willing to leave.
"Adventurers can't take risks? Then what are you even doing calling yourself an adventurer?!"
"This has to be a joke… Someone can withstand that Overlord?!"
Olivas cried out in shock.
He didn't even get time to properly see what the opponent looked like before a stray slash-wave roared toward his position.
"Damn it!"
Level 3 Olivas turned pale green and threw himself aside with everything he had—barely escaping.
One leg nearly got ruined.
And yet he still didn't leave.
No exaggeration—this fight would decide the future of the Dark Faction and Orario.
He had to see the end.
Danger? Who cared about that right now?
"Who is that adventurer?! That Overlord defeated Ottarl with ease!"
Shakti stared in disbelief and joy from roughly thirty-five meters away.
That was the limit of the distance she believed she could still dodge at.
She didn't know why, but the Dark Faction had only two Overlords.
If this man could hold even one of them, Orario could concentrate its remaining forces on the other.
"Shame… he looks like he's on the back foot. Still—if he can stay alive, he's the greatest support we could ask for!"
From Shakti's viewpoint, wounds kept appearing on Cid's body.
They weren't deep, but they were enough to show he seemed pressured.
Shakti hardened her resolve.
If this man fell, she would rush in and snatch him from the jaws of death—
Even if it cost her life.
"Chardo… are you going to lose?"
Alfia's heart was pounding.
The surrounding rabble had terrible eyes—but hers didn't.
Something about this was profoundly strange:
With Chardo's power—slashes that could casually destroy a street—why were the injuries on Shadow only shallow cuts?
It wasn't that Shadow couldn't dodge.
It was that… he didn't need to.
That man—Shadow—was putting most of his attention into offense.
Chardo was monstrously strong and unbelievably durable, but if his vitals were pierced, he would still die.
Right now he wasn't injured—
But once he started taking real damage, it would be over.
From Alfia's perspective, all that destruction wasn't truly hurting the enemy at all.
If it continued like this, Chardo would soon walk into a dead end.
On the battlefield, Cid took Chardo's heavy, "New Year's" style overhead slash head-on—then diverted the force to the right.
Before Chardo could transition into a defensive change—
Cid's sword flashed forward.
A clean thrust pierced Chardo's shoulder.
Chardo didn't retreat. Instead, he tried to seize the blade with his hand.
Cid didn't allow it.
The sword instantly liquefied into slime, slipped free, then re-formed.
"Tricks, huh."
Chardo felt the pain—and his smile only grew wider.
That one exchange had nearly cost him a hand.
So strong. So solid.
"Black big guy… has it been a long time since you fought a human at full power?"
Cid didn't press the advantage. He gave Chardo a moment to breathe.
Because something about his condition was off—and you could hear it in his breathing.
Normally, after sustained intense combat, a person's breathing becomes deep, long, and urgent.
But this man's breaths were only short and shallow.
Even now, this far into the fight, they were still short.
That wasn't normal.
To produce that level of destructive output without deep breathing—
Cid was impressed.
But he also understood: the state of Chardo's body was probably terrible.
Whatever else might be unclear, one thing was now certain—
His lungs were finished.
"A full-power duel with a person… yes, it's been a while. How did you tell?"
Chardo used the chance to adjust his rhythm, easing the pain tearing through his organs.
"Your slashes are built to kill monsters that are ten meters, twenty meters long—not to fight a human.
You should control your power and use it to deal with me, instead of wasting it like this."
Cid gestured at the surroundings.
Within fifty meters, everything was rubble—destroyed by Chardo.
With his level of skill, there was no way he couldn't control his output.
"Heh… hahahaha! You're right. But Shadow, you should know this: the greatest darkness in this world was never adventurers—it's the world-ending Black Dragon.
If you want to become the 'Greatest Evil,' then you must get used to fighting like this!"
Chardo endured the pain and drew in a deep breath.
"Watch closely—this is a technique essential for fighting dragon-type monsters.
A slashlight passed down from the Heroic Age!"
Chardo raised his black greatsword high, locking onto Shadow.
And in the instant the blade came down—
In Cid's eyes, it was as if he saw a streak of light.
....
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