Blade

The demon stood opposite Nereus, the tension between them palpable. Nereus' godly voice echoed through the collapsing city as he said, "Enough of your petty words. Let us end this."

Beneath Nereus, the floodwaters began to swirl, a singular pool of water rising with violent bubbles erupting across its surface. From this pool, Nereus raised the Trident, its three prongs glinting like celestial instruments of judgment. With a slam to the ground, the Trident sent a shockwave across the entire city, the force so immense that buildings trembled, debris flew in the air, and cracks splintered along the ground.

The demon, unimpressed but cautious, tilted his head as he muttered, "The Trident, hmm? A divine relic, but that won't be enough." He withstood the godly shockwave without faltering, his dark aura resisting its pressure. With swift intent, the demon raised his hand and invoked the Baam Slash, an invisible, instantaneous cut that severed Nereus into three parts in a single motion.

But as the demon smirked, the severed body dissolved into water, reforming behind him. Before he could fully process it, Nereus controlled the flood, raising enormous water tendrils with the force of a raging tsunami. The tendrils crashed toward the demon with terrifying speed, the air filled with the sound of rushing water and sharp cracking noises as debris was carried in the onslaught.

The demon wasted no time, activating the Baam Slash once more, cutting through the tendrils effortlessly. Water sprayed across the battlefield, but before he could finish, Nereus hurled the Trident with godlike precision. The weapon pierced through the air with an earth-shattering crack, forcing the demon to twist his body mid-air to evade. However, the Trident nicked his shoulder, leaving a gash.

The demon grimaced, his voice seething with disdain. "A tricky bastard, aren't you?" Before he could regroup, the Trident redirected itself mid-air, streaking toward him once more. The demon sneered, "This is why I hate that blasted weapon—it never stops until it has the victim's heart."

Leaning into his powers, the demon called forth Hell Head, summoning a grotesque, monstrous baby-faced head from the floodwaters below. Its distorted features and gaping mouth, lined with jagged teeth, were a vision of hell itself. String-like tendrils beneath the head pulsed with horrifying motion, enabling it to bounce and charge toward Nereus with terrifying speed.

Nereus levitated upward to avoid the abomination, but Hell Head followed relentlessly, its wide-open mouth dripping with malevolent energy. The demon, with a malevolent chuckle, leaped into the air, narrowly avoiding the Trident, which obliterated his previous position in an explosion of water and debris.

The battle elevated to the skies. The demon and Nereus slammed into each other mid-air, the clash of their auras sending shockwaves throughout Blackstone. Below them, the Hell Head propelled itself higher, its grotesque strings extending as it homed in on Nereus. Meanwhile, the Trident redirected itself yet again, streaking toward the demon at supersonic speed. The city's ruins trembled under the intensity of the clash.

Mengi strode confidently into a wide base, the dim lighting casting ominous shadows across the cracked walls. The air was heavy with the stench of blood and despair, remnants of the prisoners once held here. In the distance, a chilling figure sat waiting—a grotesque amalgamation of nightmare and form.

The creature, a hulking monstrosity, had multiple appendages, each ending in bulbous, golden heads covered in ominous holes. Its body oozed an alien-like darkness, and its tendrils slithered, some ending in sharp, jagged mouths. Its glowing, soulless eyes locked onto Mengi, its grotesque presence amplifying the dread in the air.

Mengi's calm, composed demeanor stood in stark contrast to the beast. "You've roamed freely, terrorizing the weak and relishing in chaos. But it ends today." His voice was sharp, his resolve unyielding. Without further dialogue, Mengi's body began to emit a viscous, metallic liquid, which dripped to the ground and solidified into blades—extensions of his will.

With a cold command, Mengi activated his technique: Blade Style: A Thousand Swings.

The liquid blades came alive, forming countless razor-sharp weapons that swirled around him in a cyclone of death. The sound of blades cutting through the air was deafening, sharp whistles cutting across the tension. The blades launched toward the monstrous figure with inhuman speed.

The beast screamed, its many mouths producing a sound that reverberated across the walls, shaking the foundation of the base. The blades began their work, slicing into its grotesque form. Each cut created a resonating schwip sound, and the golden spheres on its body cracked under the relentless assault. Streams of black ichor poured from the wounds as the creature flailed, its tendrils whipping wildly in defense.

The A Thousand Swings technique moved with precision, Mengi directing the liquid blades like a conductor leading an orchestra of destruction. The cuts multiplied—one slash turned to ten, ten to fifty, fifty to hundreds. The beast's appendages were torn apart, its grotesque heads splintering into shards. Each crack, slice, and collision echoed throughout the base.

Despite its monstrous size and resilience, the beast was overwhelmed, its once-menacing form reduced to a pitiful state. It roared in agony, its remaining tendrils slamming into the walls in a desperate attempt to fight back, but Mengi remained unmoved.

The chapter ends with Mengi standing amidst the carnage, his liquid blades returning to his body, reforming into a serene metallic sheen. He looked at the broken beast, his voice steady but cold.