The Extra's Rise - Chapter 1091
1091: The Immutable Object 1091: The Immutable Object The sky above the Pacific was no longer a battlefield; it was a forge.
Arthur and Tenebria were the hammers, and the atmosphere itself was the steel being beaten into submission.
I moved faster than I ever had in my life.
The Miasma I had ingested burned in my veins, acting as a high-octane accelerant for my Divine Mana.
My perception was dilated to the point where falling raindrops hung suspended in the air like diamonds.
Sovereign Sword Art: Fifth Form – Thousand Star Convergence.
I didn’t thrust once; I thrust a thousand times in the span of a single heartbeat.
Valeria became a blur of silver light, aiming for every vital point on Tenebria’s body: eyes, throat, heart, joints.
CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG.
The sound wasn’t the wet tearing of flesh.
It was the cacophony of a jackhammer striking a bank vault.
Tenebria didn’t even block.
She stood there, floating in the air, her arms spread wide in a mocking gesture of welcome.
My blade struck her throat.
It sparked.
My blade struck her eye.
She blinked, and the steel skidded off her eyelid.
My blade struck her heart.
The tip bent slightly before snapping back.
I backed off, gasping for breath, staring at her.
She was untouched.
The shallow cut I had inflicted earlier on her arm had already vanished, the Gift of Gluttony devouring the damage instantly.
But the rest of my strikes hadn’t even scratched her.
“Disappointing,” Tenebria sighed.
She dusted off her shoulder, where my sword had impacted with enough force to shatter a tank.
I analyzed her with The Grey.
I peeled back the layers of her existence to understand why she wasn’t bleeding.
It wasn’t just durability.
It was a composite armor of three incompatible realities.
The Base: Her skin was hardened by the Demon Chitin of a Divine-Rank insectoid she had consumed eons ago.
The Layer: Over that lay the translucent, spectral Dragon Scales of Tiamat.
Since eating the Empress’s core, she had gained the absolute magic resistance of the Dragon Race.
The Concept: Wrapping it all was the Gift of Pride.
The Authority that simply rejected the concept of being harmed by anything “lesser.” She wasn’t just tough.
She was an Immutable Object.
A living artifact forged from the corpses of gods.
“You’re trying to cut a diamond with a spoon, Arthur,” Tenebria mocked.
Her eyes shifted from the dull Blue of Sloth to a vibrant, toxic Green.
Authority of Envy: Mirror Image.
She dropped into a stance.
My eyes widened.
It wasn’t a brawling stance.
It wasn’t a demon stance.
Her feet were spaced shoulder-width apart.
Her hands were held in a specific, fluid guard.
It was my stance.
“You have good footwork,” Tenebria complimented, her voice vibrating with the twisted joy of theft.
“The way you shift your weight to generate torque without relying on mana…
it’s efficient.
I want it.” She blurred.
She didn’t use her overwhelming speed.
She used my tempo.
She mimicked the exact rhythm of the Sovereign Sword Art.
She came at me with a barrage of hand-strikes that mirrored my own Thousand Star Convergence.
I parried.
Valeria met her fists.
CRACK.
My arms screamed.
Even though she was using my technique, her mass was orders of magnitude higher.
It was like sparring with a planet.
I deflected a jab aimed at my throat and countered with a low sweep.
Tenebria anticipated it.
She hopped over the sweep with the exact same grace I used, then spun mid-air.
Authority of Sloth: Kinetic Dampening.
Her eyes flashed Blue.
Suddenly, the air around me turned to syrup.
My counter-attack-an upward slash aimed at her exposed flank-slowed to a crawl.
The kinetic energy was leeched out of the blade, fed into the void of Sloth.
My sword tapped her ribs harmlessly.
“Too slow,” she whispered, right in my ear.
She drove a knee into my solar plexus.
WHAM.
The air was driven from my lungs.
My ribs groaned under the pressure.
I was blasted backward, tumbling end-over-end through the sky until I slammed into the force field of one of the hovering Demon Dreadnoughts miles away.
I hit the shield hard, sliding down the energy barrier.
I coughed, spitting out a mixture of red blood and black Miasma.
“Damage report,” I wheezed, looking at my sword.
Valeria was trembling.
The edge was chipped.
The steel was glowing a dull, angry red-not from heat, but from stress.
The undead spirit within the blade was silent, but I could feel her strain.
She was holding herself together by sheer will.
Tenebria floated toward me.
She wasn’t rushing.
She was walking on the air, testing out a few of my sword-forms with her bare hands.
“I see why you use this style,” she mused, throwing a phantom slash.
“It maximizes leverage.
It allows a weaker being to punch up.
Very clever.” She looked at me, her eyes glowing Green.
“But what happens when the stronger being uses it?” My heart sank.
She was adapting.
Every second this fight dragged on, she was analyzing my Sovereignty.
She was stripping my martial arts for parts and adding them to her engine.
I couldn’t win a battle of attrition.
I couldn’t chip away at her health bar.
She regenerated instantly, defended perfectly, and learned constantly.
“I need a nuke,” I whispered to the sword.
Valeria hummed in my hand.
It was a mournful sound.
She knew what I was thinking.
I couldn’t just coat the blade in Grey anymore.
That wasn’t enough to pierce the Pride/Scale/Chitin composite.
I needed to pour the Tenth Circle, the Miasma, and The Grey into a single, needle-point focus.
I needed to overload the vessel.
I stood up, pushing off the dreadnought’s shield.
Tenebria stopped about fifty meters away.
She sensed the shift in my aura.
The playful mockery faded from her face, replaced by curiosity.
“You’re trying something new,” she noted.
“I’m done testing your armor,” I said.
I held Valeria with both hands, raising the hilt to my chest, the blade pointing straight up.
I closed my eyes.
I stopped fighting the Miasma in my blood.
I stopped regulating the Mana in my core.
I opened the floodgates.
Tenth Circle Magic: Concept Compression.
I pulled the energy of the surrounding atmosphere-the storm, the gravity, the light-and forced it into the steel.
The Grey: Sovereign Definition.
I poured the Void into the blade.
REEEEEEE.
Valeria began to scream.
The metal turned translucent.
Cracks appeared along the fuller, leaking blinding white light.
The physical structure of the sword was failing, unable to contain the infinite weight of the power I was shoving into it.
I opened my eyes.
They were burning with the grey light of the Sovereign.
“Tenebria!” I roared.
The Overlord smiled.
Her eyes shifted through all seven colors before settling on a unified, terrifying Black.
She didn’t dodge.
She didn’t put up a shield.
She recognized the challenge.
She pulled her fist back.
The Miasma of the entire solar system seemed to rush toward her, condensing into a singularity around her arm.
Overlord Art: Seven Sins Impact.
“Come!” she screamed, her voice shaking the stars.
“Show me if your stick can break my bones!” I kicked off the shield.
The dreadnought behind me exploded from the sheer force of my launch.
I became a streak of grey light.
She became a comet of black void.
We raced toward the center of the sky.
One strike.
That was all Valeria had left.