Alexander stood firmly at the front of the royal knights, his longsword lowered slightly while rows of armored soldiers positioned themselves behind him in defensive formation, shields raised as tension tightened heavily throughout the ruined palace entrance.
Across from them, the Pandemonium Legion remained still for the moment.
Black-armored soldiers stood waiting in silence, weapons already drawn while the atmosphere around them felt unnaturally heavy, as though the battlefield itself was holding its breath for the signal to begin.
Then Archon slowly raised one hand to her side.
Dark crimson magic gathered instantly beside her palm, swirling violently through the air while sparks of distorted energy crackled outward across the ruined courtyard floor.
A weapon began forming from the compressed magic.
A massive scythe nearly one hundred ninety centimeters long slowly materialized into existence, its black handle extending downward while the curved crimson blade sharpened itself through layers of flowing energy, the edges glowing with an ominous red light sharp enough to distort the air surrounding it.
The weapon radiated pure killing intent.
Archon released the handle casually but the scythe did not fall.
Instead, it floated beside her effortlessly under her control, rotating slowly at an angle through the air while the massive blade reflected the burning fires surrounding the destroyed palace gates.
Even the royal knights visibly tightened their grips around their weapons at the sight of it.
That scythe looked terrifyingly sharp.
Archon was the first to move, the Pandemonium soldiers behind her remained completely still, none of them advancing forward because she had not given the signal for the army to attack yet.
This movement was hers alone, the massive scythe floated beside her while she walked calmly across the ruined palace entrance, crimson blade rotating slowly around her body in controlled circles as magic trailed behind every movement of the weapon.
Her confidence alone weighed heavily across the battlefield.
The royal knights could feel it.
Then one knight broke formation.
Fear had already gotten to him.
"Die!" the knight roared while charging forward recklessly, raising his sword high above his head before bringing it downward toward Archon in a full-force slash.
The floating scythe stopped rotating instantly.
Archon grabbed the handle with one hand mid-motion without even looking nervous.
Steel collided.
The knight's heavy blade was deflected effortlessly to the side with a violent ring of steel that echoed throughout the ruined palace entrance, the force of the parry completely destroying his momentum before a sharp swoosh suddenly tore through the air.
Then came the wet sound afterward.
A clean, brutal slice.
The crimson edge of Archon's scythe passed through the armored gap of his neck with terrifying speed, cutting through flesh, muscle, and bone so smoothly the knight's body remained standing for a brief second afterward as though it still hadn't realized it was already dead.
Silence fell across the palace hall.
Heavy and suffocating.
Dark blood sprayed violently across the marble floor and nearby walls while the severed head spun through the air before crashing across the stone with a wet thud, the knight's armored body finally collapsing moments later in a deafening crash of metal armor against marble.
The smell of blood immediately filled the air.
Royal knights froze where they stood even some Pandemonium soldiers remained silent watching it happen.
Archon slowly lowered the scythe afterward while dark crimson energy continued pulsing faintly along the blade, droplets of blood sliding down the razor-thin edge before dripping quietly onto the floor beneath her feet.
She didn't even look at the fallen knight afterward, instead, her eyes remained locked onto Alexander through the burning haze filling the ruined palace entrance, her expression completely unchanged despite the corpse collapsing heavily behind her while dark blood continued spreading slowly across the cracked marble floor beneath drifting embers and scattered debris.
There was no satisfaction visible on her face.
Only that cold, unnatural calm carried by someone who had repeated this same act so many times that death itself no longer carried weight in her eyes, the kind of terrifying composure that made even veteran soldiers hesitate without realizing it.
The massive scythe floated back toward her side while rotating slowly through the air, crimson energy flickering faintly across the curved blade as the weapon drifted around her body almost like a living creature responding directly to her presence.
Alexander still did not move.
He remained standing exactly where he had planted himself from the beginning, his longsword lowered slightly while the spreading pool of blood crawled steadily closer toward his armored boots, the royal knights positioned behind him now completely silent beneath the pressure crushing down across the palace hall.
The sound of shifting armor had stopped entirely.
No one dared move first anymore.
Only breathing echoed through the ruined entrance now, mixed together with the distant crackling of flames consuming parts of the destroyed gate while cold wind drifted inward from outside carrying ash and smoke across the marble corridors.
"That one chose poorly," Archon said calmly.
Her voice carried effortlessly through the silence, soft enough to almost sound casual while at the same time cutting through the atmosphere sharper than any weapon inside the room, the words themselves lacking hatred entirely which somehow made them feel even colder.
Then she stopped walking.
Roughly twelve meters separated her from Alexander now, close enough that every royal knight standing behind him could finally see her clearly beneath the burning light surrounding the destroyed entrance, the absence of emotion within her eyes, the relaxed way her fingers rested loosely around the scythe's handle as though the massive weapon carried no weight at all.
Behind Archon, flames continued rising violently into the night sky.
The burning palace gate illuminated everything in crimson and orange, shadows stretching across the shattered marble floor while heat distorted the air surrounding the Pandemonium soldiers waiting silently behind their commander for the signal to begin slaughtering everyone inside.
Then Alexander moved.
Slowly, deliberately, he raised his longsword upward with both hands tightening evenly around the grip while the polished steel reflected the burning fires behind Archon, his posture lowering into a disciplined stance shaped through years of battle and unwavering loyalty to the crown.
Not fear but resolve, the atmosphere shifted immediately the moment he did it.
Even the royal knights standing behind him straightened slightly after seeing their commander remain firm despite the overwhelming pressure standing before them, the sound of armor tightening and swords gripping harder quietly echoing throughout the palace hall.
Alexander was not going to break.
And Archon noticed.
Something faint changed within her expression afterward, subtle enough that most people would have missed it completely, not interest, not excitement, but something close enough to acknowledgment that the entire atmosphere between both sides suddenly felt heavier than before.
Then the scythe beside her began rotating faster.
Slowly at first.
Then faster still, crimson energy starting to trail violently behind the spinning blade while magic spread outward across the ruined floor beneath her feet, cracks forming through the marble as pressure rolled outward from her body like an approaching storm.
Behind Alexander, several royal knights instinctively tightened their formation.
One knight swallowed hard before stepping half a pace forward beside Alexander, gripping his sword tightly enough that his gauntlets creaked.
"Commander…" he muttered under his breath while staring directly at Archon. "Just give the order."
Another knight raised his shield defensively.
"She's alone," he said, trying to steady his own breathing. "If we rush her together—"
"No."
Alexander cut him off immediately without taking his eyes away from Archon, his voice low but absolute while the tip of his longsword angled slightly upward toward her throat.
"Do not underestimate her."
The warning settled heavily across the formation.
Archon heard it too.
Then, she smiled faintly.
"You're smarter than the others," Archon said quietly while the rotating scythe suddenly stopped beside her shoulder, the crimson blade humming violently beneath compressed magic. "That usually makes people die slower."
The moment the words left her mouth she vanished.
The marble beneath her feet exploded apart from sheer force while a violent gust of wind blasted outward through the palace hall, several royal knights instinctively raising their arms as debris and burning ash scattered across the corridor.
"MOVE!" Alexander roared instantly.
Too late.
Archon appeared directly in front of the first knight on the left flank, her scythe already mid-swing before anyone fully registered the movement, the curved crimson blade carving horizontally through steel armor and flesh alike while blood erupted violently across the palace entrance.
Then chaos exploded.
"DEFEND THE PALACE!"
"Hold the line!"
Royal knights surged forward immediately afterward, swords colliding against the rotating scythe in violent bursts of sparks while Archon moved through them like a storm unleashed inside human form, her weapon spinning around her body in deadly arcs that forced entire groups backward at once.
Steel screamed against steel.
Magic detonated through the corridors.
One knight lunged toward her from behind only for the floating scythe to reverse direction instantly and impale straight through his chest before ripping itself free in a spray of blood and shattered armor.
Another swung downward toward her head.
Archon caught the blade barehanded.
Then snapped the sword apart with raw magic pressure before driving her elbow directly into the knight's throat hard enough to launch him backward across the marble floor.
Alexander finally reached her.
Their weapons collided head-on in a massive explosion of sparks and crimson energy, the impact cracking the palace floor beneath both of them while violent pressure surged outward through the entrance hall strong enough to force nearby soldiers away from the clash.
And since entering the palace.
Archon's expression shifted slightly.
Because unlike the others Alexander actually stopped her blade.
Archon's crimson scythe pressed violently against Alexander's longsword while sparks exploded between them in bright bursts of orange and gold, the pressure from the collision cracking the marble beneath their feet as nearby royal knights were forced backward by the shockwave rolling outward across the ruined palace entrance.
Then Archon smiled faintly because she was Impressed.
Because Alexander possessed very little magical stability compared to true high-ranking magic users, she could feel that much immediately the moment their weapons collided, his mana flow was rough around the edges, lacking the overwhelming refinement carried by elite sorcerers.
But what he lacked in magical mastery he compensated for somewhere else entirely.
Physical Ascension.
Archon recognized it instantly.
Pressure inside Alexander's strikes did not come purely from muscle nor ordinary combat training, it came from something carved directly into the body itself through years of pain, discipline, survival, and endless repetition upon the battlefield.
The path of warriors.
Paths walked by knights, Spartans, and other warriors who turned their own bodies into living weapons.
There were five known stages within Physical Ascension.
The first stage—
(Tempering.)
At that level, a warrior refined the human body toward absolute peak condition, every muscle fiber sharpened through endless combat while instincts, reflexes, endurance, and pain tolerance evolved beyond ordinary soldiers, creating fighters capable of pushing the limits of human performance itself.
The second stage—
(Reinforcement.)
That was where internal energy first began flowing through the body directly, reinforcing muscles, bones, and movement with life force and magic combined, physical strength no longer remained purely natural at that point, it became amplified.
Warriors at Reinforcement could shatter stone walls and stell with raw strikes alone, move faster than ordinary perception could properly follow, and survive lesser magical attacks through durability enhanced from within.
But Alexander…
He had already surpassed that.
Archon could feel it through the weight behind his blade.
Stage Three.
(Forging.)
Moment where the body itself began undergoing permanent transformation beyond normal humanity, bones hardening unnaturally, skin and muscles evolving into something capable of enduring direct clashes against magical fighters without instantly breaking apart.
At this stage, reflexes no longer required thought.
Combat became instinct. Blades struggled to fully pierce the body.
Physical strikes could shatter magical constructs outright through sheer force alone.
And Alexander stood firmly within that level.
The realization settled quietly within Archon's mind while their weapons remained locked together, crimson magic and steel grinding violently against one another as cold wind swept through the shattered palace gate behind them.
"You're not weak," Archon said calmly while the scythe rotated slightly against his blade, crimson sparks spilling downward onto the broken marble between them. "For someone with unstable magic…"
Her eyes narrowed faintly at him clearly checking him out.
"You've trained your body well."
Alexander pushed forward immediately afterward, forcing her scythe slightly backward while the muscles beneath his armor tightened under the pressure of Physical Ascension flowing through his frame.
"I didn't build this strength," Alexander replied firmly, his voice carrying through the burning palace hall while the surrounding knights watched the clash with tense expressions.
"To impress monsters like you."
Then the marble beneath Alexander's feet shattered apart.
And he swung...