Archelle raised both hands.
The sky folded inward above the city.
Every storm, every thunderbolt, every collapsing fragment of the domain converged into a single point above her palm.
Her voice became layered—like multiple calamities speaking at once.
"Plague. Collapse. Devour. Silence. End."
The air itself began screaming.
Then—
she fired.
An extinction beam tore through the battlefield like reality being erased in a straight line.
No explosion.
No impact.
Just nonexistence moving forward.
Jhonathan reacted instantly.
Dexcalibur rose to meet it.
His body strained, every muscle reinforcing itself with divine speed and adaptation.
For a fraction of a second—
it held.
Then it turned to dust.
Not broken.
Not deflected.
Simply reduced to nothing mid-contact.
The blade, the mana, even the resistance itself—gone.
Jhonathan's eyes widened.
"…I can't hear them anymore…"
The battlefield around him blurred.
Sounds disappeared.
Meaning dissolved.
Only a ringing void remained.
Then the world broke.
"JHONATHAN!!!!!!!!"
The scream came from everywhere at once.
Sophia.
Ralph.
Leerooey.
Menchie.
Jessabelle.
The surviving students.
Even the enemy factions.
It wasn't just panic anymore.
It was loss.
And then—
a figure appeared in the center of the shattered battlefield.
A skeleton.
Calm.
Silent.
Holding a scythe that didn't reflect light—it absorbed it.
He walked forward through the extinction haze as if it were nothing.
Each step reversed destruction itself slightly, stabilizing fragments of reality around him.
His voice was soft.
"It is time…"
"…to be the God of Benevolence."
He stopped beside Jhonathan's collapsing form.
The skeleton tilted its head.
"…Was I a good knight?"
The voice was familiar.
Deeply.
Painfully familiar.
Jhonathan's vision flickered.
"…Grim Reaper?"
The skeleton nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Then, after a pause—
"Yes… you were."
Silence settled over the ruined domain.
Even Archelle paused for the first time, watching the interaction unfold.
Time fractured.
Hours passed strangely—compressed and stretched at once.
Thunder gathered around the skeleton's scythe as if the world itself was mourning or witnessing a coronation.
Jhonathan's soul began to separate from his body, pulled upward gently instead of violently.
The Grim Reaper raised his hand.
"I will give you half my power."
"So you can win."
A divine transfer began.
Jhonathan's soul absorbed ancient authority—older than gods, older than domains, older than sin itself.
Runes burned into existence across his entire being.
His body reformed.
But not as before.
Not human.
Not mortal.
Ancient tattoos covered every inch of his skin, glowing faintly like sealed constellations.
A massive eye symbol formed on his forehead, blinking once as if the universe itself had awakened inside him.
His presence changed instantly.
The battlefield pressure reversed.
Even Archelle's domain trembled.
Jhonathan opened his eyes.
And stood.
Fully restored.
Fully awakened.
The Grim Reaper stepped back slightly.
"…Rise."
"You are no longer a knight."
A pause.
"You are a god."
Jhonathan's voice came out lower now.
Calmer.
Heavier.
"…Then I will finish this."