As his rage boiled over, Baroga’s body began to transform. His skin shifted from brown to a deep crimson, and his frame swelled, growing larger and larger with each passing second. Eric, now dwarfed in comparison, stood his ground.

Two pairs of horns sprouted from Baroga’s forehead, curving menacingly. His eyes glowed blood-red, and sharp fangs protruded from his mouth. His monstrous form radiated malice, his presence now undeniably that of a true demon.

“In this form, you don’t stand a chance, human!” Baroga roared, his voice deep and guttural. “I will crush you!”

Barogo roared and dashed toward Eric in a flash. He threw a punch aimed straight at him. Eric narrowly evaded the attack, but it grazed him slightly, forcing him to stagger back. Barogo's newfound strength and speed caught Eric off guard. Previously, he could track Barogo's movements, but now, he couldn't afford even a moment of carelessness.

Determined to regain control, Eric decided to create some distance between them to collect himself. "It seems I can’t afford to hold back anymore. Time to get serious," he muttered under his breath.

Taking a deep breath, Eric reached into his jacket and pulled out a brass knuckle he had hidden. He equipped it onto his hand and intoned, "With my own fists, I shall protect the weak and vanquish evil. My fists shall deliver judgment in this world. Heaven’s Fist!"

The brass knuckle began to radiate with a brilliant light, its glow illuminating the dim chapel. When Barogo saw it, he froze for a moment, visibly startled.

“You… you wield sacred power!?” Barogo exclaimed, alarmed. “You’re a paladin? How did you escape detection!?”

Eric scoffed at the question. “There’s no point answering you.”

Without hesitation, Eric charged forward. Barogo, unbothered by the dismissal, swung a devastating punch toward him. But Eric's agility couldn’t be underestimated. He shifted his body sideways just enough to avoid the attack, exposing Barogo's flank.

Wasting no time, Eric delivered a powerful blow to Barogo’s ribs. The thunderous impact of the strike echoed through the chapel, a testament to the sheer force behind it.

Enraged, Barogo retaliated with a ferocious attack. Eric met it head-on, their fists colliding with such force that the ground beneath them trembled. Eric gritted his teeth and followed up with a flurry of consecutive punches, which Barogo countered with his own. Neither showed any sign of relenting, their strength evenly matched. The clash of their blows resounded through the air, the thunderous echoes making it clear this was no ordinary fight but a battle of inhuman might.

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The chapel began to crumble under the strain of their confrontation. The once-holy space now bore the scars of their devastating battle, the walls trembling and the ceiling on the verge of collapse.

Eventually, both combatants leaped back, creating space between them. Eric, his breathing labored but resolute, stared down his opponent. “Let’s finish this with one final strike.” Determination burned in his eyes. “O God, grant me the strength to smite this wicked fiend who hath wrought havoc upon Thy world. The Fist of Judgment: Banishment!”

Eric's right hand began to glow with an intense golden light, forming a radiant aura shaped like a sphere. This was his final, decisive attack—a culmination of all his remaining strength.

Barogo, upon seeing the brilliance of Eric’s glow, felt an unfamiliar sensation creep into his heart: fear. That a mere human could instill such dread in him was unthinkable. With a bellow of rage, Barogo rushed forward, determined to crush Eric before the attack could land. Eric charged as well, the two meeting in a climactic clash.

Both threw their punches simultaneously. When their fists collided, the resulting shockwave was catastrophic. The chapel, already fragile, crumbled entirely under the sheer impact, burying both fighters beneath the rubble.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, a faint tremor stirred the debris. Slowly, a battered figure emerged from the wreckage. It was Eric, bruised and bloodied, but victorious.

Barogo was also buried under the rubble, but due to his massive body, the debris couldn’t fully cover him. Eric approached cautiously, observing Barogo's condition. The demon looked grievously wounded, with half of his body seemingly destroyed. He appeared on the brink of death.

“Kugh! To think I’d lose to a human,” Barogo rasped, his voice filled with bitterness.

“Now, it’s time for an honest conversation,” Eric said, his expression more serious than ever.

Barogo let out a weak, derisive chuckle. “Since you’re the victor, I’ll humor your questions. What do you want to know?”

“First, why are you here? What’s your purpose? What are you trying to achieve?” Eric demanded.

“H-hah… we’re after the manuscript,” Barogo muttered, his voice faltering.

“What manuscript?”

“If… if you collect all the manuscripts… y-you can unlock… the Book of the Dead. Th-this is it, hum…” Barogo's voice trailed off, his body slumping lifelessly. He was dead.

Blue flames flickered to life near Barogo's body, swiftly consuming him until only ashes remained.

"Book of the Dead?" Eric's demeanor grew tense. "Don't tell me they're trying to open the gate. Damn it, this is more serious than I thought. I’ll need reinforcements."

Without wasting any more time, Eric turned and left the devastated area.

Meanwhile, elsewhere...

"Your Highness, I’ve brought this fool to you," the limping man said, kneeling as the man with disheveled hair sprawled lifelessly beside him.

“Hmmm, it seems Barogo has perished,” the figure remarked, a smirk of amusement playing across his lips.

“What!? That can’t be—”

“Either way, I don’t care,” he interrupted with a dismissive wave. “Having another piece on the board only makes this game more entertaining.”