"Director, Nazarick has agreed to our terms. The reinforcements are with us now."
Inside the sleek S.H.I.E.L.D. Quinjet, Agent Phil Coulson immediately dialed Nick Fury's secure line, reporting the status of their desperate diplomatic mission.
Hanging up the comms, Coulson turned to the passenger seated impeccably in the back of the cabin.
"Mr. Sebas, as for this operation..." Coulson said respectfully, "...I'll be counting on you."
Sebas Tian sat perfectly upright, his hands resting neatly on his lap. It was hard to imagine that this older gentleman, who looked and dressed exactly like a refined British butler, possessed the power of a god.
Coulson's mind drifted back to the negotiations inside the Throne Room of Nazarick just an hour ago.
Seeing the skeletal overlord Ainz Ooal Gown again, Coulson had managed to keep his composure. After hearing S.H.I.E.L.D.'s desperate plea for assistance against the hurricane-wielding entity, the Bone King had made only one demand.
"I will send someone to help you defeat this Hebe Shikai," Ainz had intoned, his voice echoing in the vast chamber. "But... his ownership will belong to Nazarick from now on. Regardless of whether he is dead or alive."
When Coulson relayed the demand, Nick Fury had agreed without a second's hesitation.
Fury was under immense pressure. The World Security Council, Congress, and Wall Street had all dumped the disaster squarely on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s shoulders. The Military was happy to watch them burn, fanning the political flames from the sidelines. If Nazarick could stop the hurricane and save New York, ceding the custody of one ancient warrior to the Great Tomb was a cheap price to pay.
With the agreement struck, Ainz had dispatched Sebas Tian.
At first, neither Coulson nor Natasha had been particularly intimidated. Compared to the terrifying aura of Ainz or the cold malice of Narberal Gamma, Sebas possessed a gentle, almost grandfatherly demeanor.
Sensing their unspoken doubts as they walked out of the Tomb, Sebas had stopped at the edge of the forest.
"I do not much care for showing off my martial prowess," Sebas had said mildly, adjusting his pristine white gloves. "After all, within Nazarick, there are many who are far stronger than I. However, to put your minds at ease..."
Sebas had looked up at the sky. A thick layer of heavy, gray storm clouds blanketed the area.
He bent his knees slightly, dropping into a martial stance, and pulled one fist back to his waist. The air around him suddenly grew heavy. A terrifying aura gathered, stirring a localized gale that made Coulson and Natasha stagger backward.
Then, Sebas threw a punch toward the sky.
There was no explosion of magic. It was pure, unadulterated physical force. An invisible shockwave of air pressure erupted upward. In an instant, the thick cloud cover was violently split open, the clouds dispersing into nothingness to reveal the clear blue sky above.
Sebas casually withdrew his fist and stood up straight, smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit.
'Is this a power that a human can possess?' Coulson had thought, staring at the sky in absolute shock.
But then, Coulson remembered another time in his career. A lifetime ago, during Project Pegasus, he and Fury had met a woman who could fly through dreadnoughts and manipulate cosmic energy. Compared to Captain Marvel, Sebas's monstrous physical strength was something Coulson could just barely force his mind to accept.
The Quinjet shuddered violently, pulling Coulson out of his memories.
They had reached the edge of Hebe Shikai's localized hurricane. The gale-force winds made it impossible for the jet to fly any closer without risking a crash. Natasha set the Quinjet down heavily on a reinforced rooftop just outside the kill zone.
The rear hatch opened, and the howling wind instantly tore into the cabin.
"There he is! The target is hidden in the eye of the wind!" Coulson shouted over the roar of the storm, pointing toward the swirling vortex tearing up the city blocks ahead. Even at the periphery, the residual winds made it hard to stand.
Sebas nodded, his expression completely placid. He stepped out onto the roof. The violent winds whipped his coat tails, but his body didn't sway a single millimeter. He stood as immovable as a mountain.
"Wait here," Sebas instructed politely. "I shall go test the opponent's mettle."
His figure blurred, vanishing from the rooftop in the blink of an eye.
Coulson grabbed a pair of tactical binoculars. He spotted Sebas reappearing on a water tower just blocks away from the hurricane's center.
Sebas crouched. Charged power. And punched.
The resulting shockwave of displaced air slammed into the hurricane. For a fraction of a second, the storm seemed to pause. Then, the hyper-compressed wind barrier surrounding Hebe Shikai was violently blown apart, dissipating into a gentle breeze.
The entire block fell into a sudden, eerie calm.
Suspended in mid-air, bathed in the morning sunlight, the Bronze General shone with golden light, looking like a deity descended upon the mortal world.
"A human?" Hebe Shikai's voice echoed, completely unbothered that his ultimate defense had just been shattered. He stared down at the butler.
Then, the ancient warrior's tone shifted, a hint of realization dawning behind the bronze visor.
"No. You are not human. Within your body flows the same bloodline as mine."
[The Clash]
"He's so strong," Hawkeye muttered from beside Coulson, lowering his bow. "Sebas might actually be able to defeat this guy."
Having faced the Dragon Servant personally and watched his trick arrows fail against that wind barrier, Clint understood exactly how terrifying Hebe Shikai was. Seeing Sebas shatter that same barrier with a simple punch gave him the first glimmer of genuine hope.
Sebas, however, had no interest in idle chatter. He was given a job, and a butler always executes his master's orders efficiently.
Sebas's figure blurred again. When he reappeared, he was suspended in mid-air directly in front of Hebe Shikai.
Without a word, Sebas threw a devastating straight punch.
Hebe Shikai didn't dodge. The ancient Dragon Servant mirrored the motion, throwing a heavy bronze fist to meet the strike.
CRACK.
The moment their fists collided, time seemed to freeze. Neither man showed any expression. Neither figure yielded a single inch.
Then, the kinetic energy of their clashing fists reached a critical mass.
A catastrophic wave of atmospheric pressure exploded outward from the point of impact.
The shockwave tore through the block. The asphalt ripped itself apart. The remaining glass in every skyscraper within a half-mile radius instantly pulverized into dust.
Standing on the distant rooftop, Coulson, Natasha, and Clint were caught in the expanding blast radius. The sheer force of the displaced air swept them off their feet, throwing them backward in a chaotic tangle until they slammed hard against the hull of the Quinjet.
Hawkeye groaned, pushing himself up and offering a hand to haul Coulson off the deck.
Coulson rubbed his bruised shoulder, looking at the apocalyptic destruction radiating from the two figures hovering in the sky. He swallowed hard.
"I think..." Coulson muttered, tapping his comms to signal Natasha. "...we should fall back. We're still way too close."
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