On the beach, the once-golden fine sand had long been transformed into black, charred ruin. The carcasses of migratory birds dangled forlornly from toppled, broken coconut groves, while the crimson-black surf slowly subsided, listlessly caressing the crumbling reefs. Exhausted, Guan Feng forced himself to rise and rallied the remaining knights and mages of the allied forces into a new defensive formation. At the temporary command post, Cheng Wei led the last of Team A’s knights to join them.
“Commander, what is wrong with you? How did you lose so much blood?” Cheng Wei asked with genuine concern as he examined the nearly perforating wounds that marred Guan Feng’s body.
Guan Feng, the interim commander, merely waved off the pain, raising his severely burnt left hand—scorched from overloading his fusion ability—and replied, “I am fine. Now, let us think of how to deal with this stubborn adversary.”
“Poseidon’s Spear is spent, and the energy reserves of our space carrier fleet are nearly depleted. Look at our forces… almost all are on the verge of collapse. If we lose this fight, the operations on the eastern front are doomed,” Cheng Wei murmured, his brow beaded with sweat as he clenched his fist and spoke in a hushed, determined tone.
At once, Guan Feng’s inner fire surged. With a sharp, resolute cry he declared, “Do not give up! It is not over yet. Besides, he no longer has that troublesome defense—we still have a chance!”
Even the blood-crusted scabs on his chest, agitated by his fierce emotions, began to seep anew. At that clarion call, Cheng Wei’s eyes cleared as he looked up; indeed, the dark-matter mirror that had once repelled countless lethal blows had vanished. The Lord of Time seemed to gaze at the now-dim black orb on his left hand, shaking his head repeatedly. Cheng Wei drew a deep, steadying breath, then turned and looked upon the bloodied, exhausted warriors around him; their eyes shone with renewed fervor as they returned his gaze.
Slowly, he lifted the golden cross that adorned his chest, studded with resplendent jewels, and in a voice both exalted and pious, he proclaimed:
“Now is the most crucial moment in the fate of humanity. We have lost our kin and our friends; to safeguard tomorrow, we must fight on, even in blood and ruin. Though we may lose everything, we must not cease our struggle. Brave warriors—do not give in! Even if blood must flow, even if our bodies shatter, we shall fight to our last breath! May the Holy Lord be with us, and the spirit of knighthood endure forever!”
“May the Holy Lord be with us, and the knight’s heart endure forever!”
The impassioned cry rang out, as surviving warriors, stirred by hope and resolve, embraced one another. Swords and spears were raised; halberds and cannons were brandished. In an instant, the throng surged like a seething fireball, as though the very red clouds at the horizon had been set ablaze by divine flame. At that moment, though each heart bore the stain of human frailty, in the face of mortal peril their spirits shone with transcendent brilliance.
High above, the Lord of Time, Chronos, flapped his vast wings slowly. His Time Eye—glowing with a cold, eerie green light—surveyed the scene below. For a moment, his body trembled with a derisive laugh before he regained his haughty composure. Spreading his lean, powerful arms—as blue runes nearly adorned his bare torso—he sneered contemptuously at the mortals beneath him: “A rabble of ignorant, incited fools! You, easily stirred to passion by a few rousing words, dare to boast of endless wisdom and civilization? Your blinded eyes fail to see the vast gulf between your feeble power and mine. Allow me to compose your so-called heroic hymn with your own spilled blood!”
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Then, with a swift beat of his ebony wings, Chronos unleashed his Shiyu Sword—a blade radiant with a chilling, otherworldly light—and dove upon the mass of men below. At the same time, knights and mages—once bitter enemies in past wars—found themselves united against this common foe. Their collective battle cries—“Hurrah!” “Strike!” “Lead the charge, even unto death!”—rose in unison, and under the mages’ cover, they launched a fierce, coordinated assault. As the two forces converged, it seemed that an apocalyptic confrontation was imminent.
Having utterly lost the proactive defense of Dark Jade, Chronos was forced to accelerate time momentarily through his Time Eye to evade the close-range fusion assaults of the vanguard knights. Then, employing his inimitable swordsmanship, he repelled the exhausted attackers.
Even when surrounded by humanity’s most elite forces, Chronos proved not to be an easy prey. The knights marveled as they witnessed his uncanny perception of danger and his ability to briefly speed up time—abilities that were truly unprecedented. It was then clear how, in the direst of moments, he had managed to break through the encirclement and survive.
Like a phantom, Chronos moved with the swiftness of lightning through the enraged throng, evading the relentless, cunning attacks. In the blink of an eye—at speeds imperceptible to mortal eyes—he struck down or wounded several renowned knights. Guan Feng, having taken a brief respite, could not afford to lose any more comrades. With grim determination, he rejoined the battle. Though his body still trembled from injury, he could not permit himself another such loss.
In his hand, his nine-toothed long knife—etched with the Black Dragon Totem—channeled a potent fusion energy that enveloped its golden blade. In that instant, Guan Feng transformed into a streak of golden light, charging at his bitter enemy with unyielding resolve.
Chronos had only just drawn his Shiyu Sword from the barely petrified remains when a fearsome surge of golden sword energy hurtled toward him. The audacious Lord of Time, already grievously wounded and at the limits of his power, attempted to sidestep the blow with agile finesse, planning to counter with a lethal strike.
Thus, Chronos flapped his wings and darted toward Guan Feng’s flank. With a vicious reverse slash, he aimed a thrust at the open chest of the knight. Yet, what appeared to be a mighty, crushing blow proved but a phantom; Guan Feng, seizing the fleeting moment when their forms misaligned, deftly lifted his blade. In an instant, the serrated edge of his knife clashed with the grey-white magic sword, scattering sparks and showering metallic fragments like rain. Before Chronos’ blade could be entirely immobilized by petrification, Guan Feng unleashed a series of furious strikes. Chronos, his magical reserves nearly spent, managed to parry only a few times before the overwhelming force left his hands numb.
Guan Feng’s assault was swift and resolute; though his grievous wounds flowed with steady blood, they did little to deter his indomitable spirit. Chronos labored to withstand the searing onslaught of the golden blade. Though he was the master of time, Chronos was more a man of words than a warrior bred in the blood-soaked tradition of Atlantis. As his desperate resistance drove him into inner turmoil, Guan Feng fought with increasing valor, methodically accelerating his assault.
After repelling several fusion-powered strikes with rapid parries, Guan Feng discarded the petrified nine-toothed blade and, summoning the full might of his fusion energy into his right hand, formed a colossal, golden Dragon Fist. As furious winds howled and searing heat surged, his attack aimed straight at the face of his enemy—a blow borne of desperation and righteous fury.
At that critical moment, Chronos’ green eyes, already wide with terror, betrayed a flicker of dread as cold sweat trickled from his temples. Just as the scorching Dragon Fist was poised to strike, the eerie totem on Chronos’ forehead—an immense, unearthly eye inscribed with cryptic symbols—suddenly flared with a blinding light. Its enormous pupil swelled almost to a perfect circle, and then, behind Chronos, several colossal, rotating Time Wheels materialized, sparkling like diamonds in brilliant radiance.
The overwhelming force of the golden Dragon Fist shattered the nearby boulders into innumerable fragments. Yet as the fierce winds scattered the yellow dust, not a trace of Chronos could be seen upon the desolate terrain.
Guan Feng panted heavily, his strength nearly spent, and was supported by his deputy, Cheng Wei. Cheng Wei, upon noting that the bleeding had ceased, exhaled a sigh of relief.
He turned to survey the shattered stones scattered about and exclaimed, “Has he escaped again?”
Guan Feng nodded in response. “This time, his evasion was not merely due to his acceleration ability—my attack exceeded his limits.”
Analyzing the earlier battle and reflecting on their close combat, Guan Feng grew ever more convinced of his conviction.