Enoch Razvolnic

The Demon Lord’s forces advanced with surviving imp legions as their vanguard. Behind those imps, the core armies sluggishly approached while dragging along numerous siege engines.

Despite only 5% of imps remaining numerically, even those numbers still amounted to tens of thousands individually. If they attempted scaling the ramparts, the Alliance would need to commit fully suppressing them – buying time for those siege weapons deploying directly against the walls themselves.

In other words, allowing those imps any footholds upon the ramparts ensured their defeat altogether. They needed descending onto the battlefield itself to intercept those imp hordes directly – turning this defensive siege into open field combat altogether.

“Open the gates.”

The Lion King deployed their infantry footsoldiers first. Yet against such overwhelming imp numbers, those foot soldiers represented little more than disposable meatshields realistically.

“It seems you warriors shall need to take the field yourselves.”

The Lion King addressed the warriors, Doyun especially, who nodded in acknowledgment.

Doyun himself refrained from any excessively audacious actions either. Defying the supreme commander’s authority during wartime could never produce positive outcomes under any circumstances whatsoever.

‘I shall engage those imps while baiting the Vanguard Commanders into taking the frontlines directly themselves.’

Doyun alongside the warriors leapt down from those towering ramparts gripping their weapons tightly – their time to truly take the battlefield had finally arrived.

Freefalling downwards while rushing winds whistled past, Doyun scrutinized those imps already congregating directly beneath the outer rampart slopes.

‘To attract maximal attention, some flashy displays seem warranted…’

Pahng- Ignition jets erupted from Doyun’s bootsoles propelling him downwards faster than his companions could follow initially.

His mana-infused palms faced downwards audaciously:

Kkirruk?

Just as those imps prepared scaling those rampart surfaces once more:

‘Overlord’s Divine Palm’

Kwahhhhhhhng-

Accompanied by thunderous shockwaves, the entire ground collapsed inwards forming a massive crater spewing forth molten lava geysers from subterranean ruptures rather than any traditional impacts.

Rising imps got incinerated by those erupting magma flows or simply plummeted straight into the blazing pits altogether – eradicating the original terrain underfoot completely.

“Eek! Such youthful vigor indeed!”

The Vagabond alongside his warrior compatriots dexterously rebounded across those rampart facades descending around that newly formed lava field adroitly.

Soon after, open combat erupted between both sides with warriors intermixing among Alliance ranks steadily thinning those persistent imp numbers.

Fortunately Brudhild performed exceptionally well having achieved Saint King tier prowess herself by now.

Whenever her fluid swordplay unfolded in motion, imp heads would invariably tumble across those desolate wastes by the fistful unerringly. Yet even she alone could not dominate that entire battlefield by her lonesome ultimately.

For while her technical mastery remained utterly peerless, Brudhild represented a specialized one-on-one combatant akin to the Lion King himself rather than any overwhelming force multiplier like him after all.

Lei and the Vagabond seemed hard-pressed by those seemingly endless demonic tides assailing them relentlessly. Even for peak warriors, those amplified imp legions numbering in the tens of thousands still represented formidable adversaries not to be underestimated whatsoever.

A daunting battlefield indeed for those purpose-built warmachines that warriors fundamentally represented in the first place – likely Lei would never have stood any chances whatsoever without undergoing her own personal upgrades over this interim.

Doyun surveyed his fellow warriors’ performances briefly across those chaotic combat zones:

“Hwoooooh…”

Heineken gripped his spear hilt with both hands like a baseball batter winding up behind his head zealously.

‘Revolving Heaven’

Vortexes swirled around that spearshaft as his arm muscles bulged outwards tautly.

“Hwah-“

Contorting his heavily calloused features into a vicious sneer, he whipped that spear around with ferocious might altogether.

Ksheohng-

Hurricanes blasted forth smashing aside those imp ranks en masse while Doyun nodded approvingly:

‘Not too shabby.’

Like Brudhild being a specialized one-on-one combatant herself, Heineken’s signature wind-aligned attacks proved exceedingly well-suited towards area suppression tactics despite their specializations overall.

Observing those wind techniques inspired Doyun considering potential incorporations into his own preexisting Razvolnic stylistic repertoires moving forwards.

Ever since acquiring the [Eiki Trace Insight] trait, Doyun could freely sculpt martial arts like working with malleable clay itself unlike his previous dull reincarnations before enlightenment.

Spatial rifts opened with the wind javelin Ayer materializing directly into his outstretched palm spontaneously.

Suffusing it with mana caused spiraling wind currents reminiscent of Heineken’s previous hurricane vortexes enveloping that spearshaft intricately.

Doyun proceeded overlapping sword and spear motions slashing downwards with Yupiteur’s blade igniting those concentrated wind flows transferring across both mediums through his masterful mana manipulations.

‘How’s this?’

Felt pretty decent overall – he immediately resheathed Yupiteur back against his waist instinctively.

Meanwhile, Heineken tilted his head quizzically towards that familiar gust’s direction emanating from gods knew where precisely.

Doyun swung his sword outwards unleashing those compressed wind blades scattering fiercely in every direction – each individual gale manifesting with razor-sharp cutting power indistinguishable from sword strikes fanning out in devastating area coverage sweeps.

[Războlnic’s Style Swordsmanship – Blade Winds]

Ksheohhhhngggg-!

Those rampaging gales bisected entire demonic cohorts mercilessly – individual elite apostle-tier combatant imp torsos alongside severed limbs suspended midair briefly before scattering across the hellish panorama all around.

‘Not bad.’

Doyun nodded with measured satisfaction.

As for Heineken himself, initial shock soon dissolved into resigned mirth – his own signature techniques being emulated so audaciously by this prospective disciple.

An impossibility by any conventional metrics whatsoever. Yet understanding Doyun’s true identity inspired the simple realization of ‘Ah yes, that Enoch himself after all.’

Doyun proceeded wreaking absolute havoc across those imp battlefronts consecutively.

Unlike the Buske Style prioritizing singular depth alone, the Razvolnic School’s pragmatic versatility optimized towards all combat contingencies including multiple opponents simultaneously.

Now bolstered by Level 8 mana capacity alongside area dominance capabilities, Doyun could maximize his fullest martial potentials completely uninhibited by any prior limitations whatsoever.

The Vanguard Commanders scrutinized Doyun’s awe-inspiring feats with growing unease:

“That one’s been getting on my nerves all this time…”

“Yet his sword skills feel strangely familiar somehow…”

Cutting off Lilith’s mutterings, Satan issued abrupt commands instead:

“Focus all subordinate officers and main forces against him first!”

Subordinate officers acknowledged that order with affirming nods before congregating altogether steadily encroaching closer towards Doyun’s position.

Just as Lei had struggled against those Apophis demon nobles earlier, even elite warriors could not underestimate multiple superior officers simultaneously coordinating amongst themselves. In sheer numerical superiority alone, such massed forces could easily overwhelm any isolated warrior altogether.

The Vagabond and Lei reacted with visible disquiet upon confirming those steadily advancing demonic forces about to converge upon their current locations.

At that very moment, Doyun charged forth alone directly into their deterring path.

“I shall handle them myself.”

One sole Apostle striding forwards unflinchingly against those numerically superior massed demonic cohorts showcased an outright surreal spectacle altogether.

‘Some warmup exercises should suffice.’

He exhaled deeply while compressing every ounce of mana into maximal consolidation overall.

At Level 8 capacity, mana limitations no longer imposed any constraints whatsoever regarding offensive output potentials period.

Doyun leapt skywards brandishing his blade vertically overhead:

[Războlnic’s Style Sword Enlightenment Supreme Art. Manifest Blade.]

Unearthly luminescence enveloped that blade bathing the entire battlefield while every single entity turned their undivided attentions towards that singular existence alone.

Descending with blade overhead, Doyun slashed vertically downwards painting a single line comprised of pure radiance suspended across empty expanse itself.

The very moment Doyun’s blade alongside that spectral luminescence touched the ground simultaneously:

[Tenma Shikishi (Adversary Demon Decadal Reaping)]

Fwishhhh-

Ten crescent sword auras erupted from that singular bisecting radiance fanning outwards consecutively in every direction simultaneously.

That hallowed luminescence consecrated for reaping demonic scourges descended like divine retribution itself upon those encroaching Demon Lord’s armies directly.

“—!”

Before their vanguard officer could even part his lips to sound any orders whatsoever, that radiance already cleaved through his entire corporeal form leaving its wake utterly decimated altogether.

Those ten diverging crescents carved across the battlefield panorama obliterating absolutely everything in their unstoppable paths indiscriminately. Against any mortal techniques, even sword demon officers stood utterly no chances countering such transcendent revelations manifesting upon realms far beyond their comprehensions whatsoever.

After that utterly silent yet unspeakably brutal massacre finally concluded altogether:

“Im… possible…”

Satan muttered disbelievingly while shaking his head slowly side to side.

“…Madness.”

Not just their entire vanguard alongside numerous siege engines – the Demon Lord’s main armies had been utterly annihilated in a single decisive strike leaving no survivors whatsoever.

Everyone across that battlefield could only gape speechlessly at the mind-shattering revelation unfolding before them all.

However, the Vanguard Commanders’ own stunned disbelief stemmed from far more than any sheer displays of overwhelming firepower ultimately.

Satan’s obsidian talons trembled erratically while stammering incredulously:

“You… How could you possibly…? That can’t be… I must’ve seen wrong…”

“…”

Even Lilith found herself utterly speechless for once in her immortal existence.

Rather than any verbal responses, only the sounds of Oz’s rattling jawbones clacking together could be overheard instead:

Tkahtkahtkahtkahtkahtkahtkaht.

“I’m… I’m… Scared… Scared! I… I…”

Yet Satan could not even muster any acerbic rebukes towards Oz’s incoherent babbling – far too preoccupied with paralytic dismay alongside visceral dread altogether.

That one man who had single-handedly reversed the overwhelmingly one-sided war a century ago almost singlehandedly toppling innumerable Vanguard Commanders consecutively before ultimately ascending into myth itself alongside their Lord –

“Razvolnic…”

An utterly unmistakable signature technique belonging solely to that legendary personage alone.

“How could he possibly wield Razvolnic’s…!”

“Razvolnic’s successor-rrrrr!!”

Oz howled piercingly as if descending into some uncontrollable seizure fit altogether:

“Razvolnic’s! Razvolnic’s successor has! Appeared-!!”

“…A successor?”

Lilith murmured with visible stupefaction weighing heavily upon her.

“Kill him!! Kill him now!! Must kill-!! Kill-!!”

Tkahtkahtkahtkahtkahtkaht.

Though clearly descending into some psychotic episode, Oz’s frenzied implications remained indisputably accurate beyond any doubts whatsoever.

Yet Satan and Lilith hesitated unilaterally engaging further upon witnessing that transcendent luminescence’s radiant aftermath firsthand.

For their fallen comrades’ demises had always coincided with that very same consecrated incandescence time and time again throughout history after all.

“…Hey Lancelot, you specialize in one-on-ones so go handle… Hmm?”

Satan glanced around their surroundings only to realize an absence altogether.

“Where’d that bastard run off to?”

++++

‘That should suffice demonstrating my intentions clearly enough.’

Annihilating all those officers and main forces hopefully made his message quite explicit towards those Vanguard Commanders directly.

With only imp swarms and Vanguard Commanders remaining now, they should have no choice but taking the frontlines themselves from this moment onwards.

Doyun extended his sensory perceptions outwards. Sure enough, one Vanguard Commander seemed closing in rapidly from a distant position.

Yet…

“…Hmm?”

Heading towards a completely different direction altogether rather than his current location.

++++

“Kkih…”

Shurahk-

As Brudhild inscribed intricate sword patterns, three more imp heads tumbled across those desolate landscapes simultaneously.

Without any respite whatsoever, she steadily mowed down those endless demonic tides practically singlehandedly against numerically overwhelming odds.

Yet of all warriors present, the former commoner blessed with the humblest physical attributes still performed the most consistently stable against those formidable adversaries overall.

For her utterly sublime technical mastery compensated for any inherent shortcomings – optimizing maximal combat efficiency minimizing energy expenditures while relentlessly eradicating every hostile in her immediate vicinity.

Truly befitting the title as the Sword Sage Vuyskr’s sole legitimate successor in both spiritual legacy and martial prowess alike.

At that exact moment however:

“…!”

Brudhild halted her sword flourishes abruptly before adopting a solemn formal stance altogether.

‘A Territory overlaps…’

Another distinct boundary intersected against her own established spheres of influence momentarily.

‘The Buske Style.’

Yet Brudhild’s Clarity of Still Water remained unperturbed throughout – a testament to her swordsmanship fundamentals emphasized unceasingly by her late father over the years.

She fortified her stance reinforcing that spiritual domain even further preemptively. Fortunately this intruding combatant’s Buske Style mastery did not surpass her own skills overall.

Yet she could not simply dismiss them so readily either:

‘…Equal footing.’

Unbelievably, this unknown challenger had attained comparable enlightenment paralleling Brudhild’s own Buske Style proficiency virtually to the letter.

Given her status as Vuyskr’s sole daughter alongside only remaining direct disciple, such accomplishments defied any conceivable explanations on its face altogether.

‘How…?’

However, before she could ponder further, that adversary rapidly encroached upon her position directly:

Kuuung-

Armored greaves crushed against hardened magma fields accompanied by faintly erupting lava spumes seeping forth between those fissures.

“Lady Brudhild.”

A hushed chilling voice introduced itself rather ominously against the battlefield’s chaotic backdrop resounding all around.

“I request the honor of crossing blades against you.”

“…Vanguard Commander Lancelot.”

The resurrected Vanguard Commander about whom she had received briefings from the Vagabond beforehand.

The Death Knight Lancelot himself.

‘No life force…’

That armored visage utterly lacked any presences whatsoever – consisting solely of disembodied phantasmal essences rather than any mortal flesh and blood altogether.

A rather unorthodox strategic decision appearing before her personally like so amidst open warfare regardless.

“Why have you sought me out directly? Surely not the wisest tactical judgments, I would assume.”

According to Doyun’s previous briefings, Vanguard Commanders should avoid frontline engagements under any circumstances altogether.

Yet so brazenly, Lancelot had transgressed right before Brudhild without any hesitation whatsoever.

“I harbored a duality of purposes entering this war campaign. The first involves fulfilling my Demon Lord’s mandate conquering Muspelheim accordingly.”

Shling-

He unsheathed his blade leveling its tip directly towards Brudhild’s directions instead:

“The second involves challenging you the Sword Sage’s sole legitimate successor and declaring my supremacy as this era’s paramount Sword Emperor.”

“…”

Rather than dignify such outrageous boasts with any verbal responses, Brudhild simply maintained stony silence in turn.

To declare oneself the paramount swordmaster above her late father’s own consecrated titles altogether…!

‘And yet…’

Unnerving disquiet bubbled within her subconscious nonetheless.

Lancelot’s every breath, stance and spiritual territory exuded quintessential Buske Style permeations comparable to Vuyskr’s most profound mysteries themselves.

Without dropping her defensive vigilance for even a single instant, Brudhild addressed him stoically:

“One question if I may indulge.”

“By all means.”

Chikalik.

As if anticipating her very inquiry altogether, Lancelot’s helmeted visage seemed to curl upwards into a wry smile momentarily.

An ominous disquiet assailing Brudhild right then at that unsettling reaction alone.

“Lady Brudhild. I harbor great respect towards you truthfully.”

A rather abrupt preface before outstretching that gauntlet palm outwards invitingly in a peculiar gesture:

“Thus I shall reveal my reasons forthwith. Bear witness.”

Indistinct wispish azure emanations seeped forth from between his armored plates coalescing above that upturned palm into translucent apparitions reminiscent of wispy vapors intermingled with flickering flames continuously morphing and reforming.

Upon witnessing those spectral manifestations, Brudhild could not contain her visceral dismay any longer whatsoever:

“…!!”

Her Clarity of Still Water shattered instantaneously in the blink of an eye altogether.

For those enigmatic essences conveyed something innately profound connected towards her late father himself unmistakably.

“This represents a mere ‘fragment’ of your master the Sword Sage Vuyskr’s very soul essence.”

Brudhild’s eyes widened in naked horror as those soul embers dissipated back into Lancelot’s armored chassis once more in wispish currents altogether.

An indescribable sense of profound violation welled within her being upon witnessing such sacrilegious desecrations altogether.

“Fortunately, I managed acquiring the Sword Sage’s primordial soul itself in its entirety.”

Guhk.

The sickening crunch of clenched teeth shattering underfoot – Brudhild’s own gritted dentition audibly fracturing from sheer strain alone.

“I acknowledge you as the Sword Sage’s sole legitimate successor carrying his consecrated legacy faithfully. However.”

Brudhild glared towards that death knight with twin azure irises shining with utter murderous conviction to slaughter without any reservations remaining in this mortal realm whatsoever.

“I have assimilated the Sword Sage’s quintessential mysteries into my own being instead.”

One more word and Brudhild clearly intended bisecting that armored visage regardless of any consequences whatsoever – her trembling pupils locked upon Lancelot’s helmeted silhouette conveyed such visceral disgust beyond any verbal responses necessary whatsoever.

“Ergo.”

No more words. Brudhild struck with blinding swiftness manifesting sheer relentless violence altogether:

Ksheohhhhngggg-!

Aureate sword auras erupted bisecting the space between both dueling swordmasters forcefully inserting itself into their conflict without any further preambles required.

“…!”

“!!”

Both instantly recognized that hallowed radiance altogether – far transcending any ordinary mortal techniques displayed by others until this precise revelation.

“Brudhild.”

Tap. Doyun landed squarely between both combatants decisively blocking any further escalations altogether.

“Apologies.”

“…Patriarch.”

“I shall handle this confrontation instead.”

“…”

Those hushed utterances dripped with such blood-curdling killing intent that Brudhild felt every single hair standing on end alongside bone-chilling visceral trepidations lancing down her very spine involuntarily.

Beyond any killing auras she had ever radiated herself before whatsoever – that utterly unfathomable wrath manifested through the sheer weight behind Doyun’s words alone proved palpably overwhelming in its intensity.

The hooked talon tips of Doyun’s armored gauntlets scratched audibly against Yupiteur’s hilt cloths tucked across that waist sash.

Across that established boundary separating both sides altogether, Lancelot shakily pointed a trembling finger towards Doyun instead:

“You… That radiance just now…! Surely not Razvolnic’s succes…”

“Shut your whore mouth.”

Chahng-

Doyun drew Yupiteur forth with utter vehement contempt altogether:

“Let me put you down again just like a century ago, you damnable cur.”

His eyes blazed with aureate conviction igniting from the sheer force of will dominating his entire being singularly in that singular instant.