Archelle raised her hand again.
The sky did not darken this time.
It multiplied.
From every direction above the shattered city—
billions of silhouettes appeared.
Not illusions.
Not projections.
Real beings.
She had called them all.
And each one carried a fragment of her power.
Desiree's eyes widened slightly.
"…She's splitting her authority."
Mark Angelo tightened his grip.
"That's not strength anymore."
"That's a world being shared."
Archelle's voice echoed across everything.
"Take it."
The moment she spoke—
the billions descended.
A flood of divine beings, each moving with identical purpose, each carrying half of her overwhelming authority.
The battlefield turned into a collapsing universe of attacks.
But Jhonathan just smiled.
"…Creativity."
He moved.
And the world failed to follow him.
Every attack that reached him was instantly analyzed, understood, and adapted to mid-impact.
Blades changed direction.
Spells lost structure.
Domains flickered as if confused by his existence.
One by one—
the billions of empowered beings fell unconscious without even realizing they had been defeated.
Not killed.
Just… overwritten.
Like their existence was too simple compared to what he had become.
Desiree stepped back slightly.
"This god of Gluttony…"
"…is twice his original power."
She glanced at Jhonathan.
"…But he only reached godhood recently."
"…Why is he standing toe to toe with her?"
Mark Angelo didn't answer immediately.
Because even he could feel it now.
Jhonathan wasn't overpowering Archelle.
He was learning faster than she could evolve.
Jhonathan raised his hand.
Old abilities resurfaced—forgotten techniques from his previous life, every battle, every death, every restart.
All of them returned at once.
Not as memories.
As usable weapons.
He caught the extinction beam again.
This time—
he shattered it with a single stone.
The force destabilized the entire domain layer.
Mana wrapped around his hands.
The Undying Blade appeared in one grip.
The Blade of Death in the other.
The two forces didn't clash.
They synchronized.
Jhonathan whispered.
"Slow."
Everything stopped.
Not time itself.
But everything inside his perception field.
The battlefield became still, frozen in a distorted pause where only he could move.
He ran.
Through gods.
Through armies.
Through fractured reality.
Each step left behind bleeding distortions in space itself.
Archelle tried to react—
but her body split before she could complete the motion.
A clean cut.
Perfect alignment.
She staggered.
Then was forced back into her own regeneration field.
Jhonathan exhaled.
And smiled softly.
At that moment—
another presence appeared beside him.
Hiro's soul.
Wounded.
Fading.
But smiling.
The two stood together in the broken battlefield.
Hiro reached out first.
Jhonathan did the same.
And they met in the middle—
grasping each other's hands.
Tearfully.
"…Thank you…"
Hiro's voice was quiet.
"…for saving me, my dear besto friendo."
Jhonathan's eyes softened.
He nodded.
"…You're welcome."
Hiro's soul began fading into light.
His final smile remained.
"…You're the hero."
And then—
he disappeared.
Jhonathan stood alone again.
For a moment.
Silent.
Tears forming but never falling.
Then he looked up at Archelle.
And his expression changed.
Not sadness.
Not rage.
But finality.
"…Let's end this."