For a moment, Akira was speechless. Staring at the legendary figure in front of him, he found himself unsure how to respond.
"Say something, kid. This silence is just awkward."
Zald slapped his armor-plated thigh with a heavy thud, his annoyance clear.
Akira remained quiet for a bit longer, thoughts swirling in his head. Then, slowly, he asked, "What do you want to talk to me about?"
"Haha! Don't get nervous." Zald chuckled, stroking his chin while scanning Akira with narrowed eyes.
"I just came to see what kind of monster the brat she won't shut up about has become. No need to freak out."
His gaze flicked over Akira with sharp scrutiny. He sniffed lightly—an odd gesture.
"As expected, Alfia was right. You've got a nice scent to you."
Akira froze, then instinctively crossed his arms and backed up a few steps, his face twisting in visible discomfort. He raised both hands in front of him in protest, a grimace on his lips.
"…I'm sorry, but I didn't expect a hero to have such a peculiar hobby. I, uh, prefer women, you know?"
Zald: "…"
He looked like a man watching his reputation crumble to dust in real time.
No wonder she gave him that strange look back then.
"That kid has a pretty troublesome personality. You better keep an eye on him." Zald muttered bitterly.
Back then, he had arrogantly thought, 'How troublesome can he be?At worst, he might throw a tantrum or something.'
But now?
Now, Zald finally understood. Compared to physical pain, the psychological trauma of being mistaken for a man who liked sniffing other men… was unbearable.
If… if he ever turned to Evilus, he could already imagine the rumors.
'Gluttony? Isn't that the one who likes sniffing men?'
Just thinking about it made Zald's overwhelming aura vanish in an instant. His massive figure slumped as he sat back down onto the creaky bench, his face gloomy as he spiraled into mental collapse.
Akira, watching him with an amused glint in his eye, smiled faintly. Seizing the moment, he asked casually, "Hey, why did you and Alfia come back to Orario?"
Zald, still drowning in self-pity, looked up at the question. The melancholy cloud that had enveloped him lifted, and a spark reignited in his eyes.
He stood abruptly, grabbing the massive, iron-like greatsword leaning beside him. As the sword brushed against his armor, a sharp metallic clang rang through the empty church.
A wicked smile stretched across his face—feral, challenging, almost manic. The old scars on his face twisted with the grin, making him look even more menacing.
"Hahaha… You wanna know?"
His laugh boomed, echoing through the church like thunder. Dust trickled from the cracked ceiling as his voice reverberated against the worn stone walls.
"Then fight me, brat. If your performance's good enough to impress me, I'll tell you everything."
The pressure he released in that moment was suffocating. It was the kind of aura that warned, Only strength earns answers here.
Akira's lips pressed into a thin line. He gave a small nod and replied plainly, "Got it."
Though inwardly, he couldn't help but wonder, 'What the hell is with these people? Why does everything turn into a battle as soon as we lock eyes? What is this, Pokémon?'
Still, he knew running wouldn't help. Besides, judging from the weakened vitality he sensed, Zald's condition was far from ideal. The battle probably wouldn't last too long.
Zald, noticing Akira's calm acceptance, flashed a glimmer of approval. He effortlessly lifted the colossal sword and slung it over his shoulder, the blade seemingly weightless in his grip.
As he moved, the surrounding air trembled. A low whistle trailed behind him as he lunged forward, his foot slamming into the ground with a deafening crack.
He launched at Akira like a rampaging war chariot, unstoppable and overwhelming.
It seemed he had some restraint, though. He clearly didn't want to reduce the church to rubble. Otherwise, there'd be more than just a shallow footprint left in his wake.
Akira raised his left hand, palm open, as Zald swung his sword downward. A giant magic circle instantly lit up beneath their feet, glowing with dazzling complexity.
"Hey, uncle. Let's not destroy the furniture. Let's fight somewhere else."
At the same time, Akira drew his one-handed sword with his right hand and met the descending blade with a powerful swing.
Clang—!
Metal clashed against metal with an earth-shaking impact.
The air distorted from the pressure, forming shockwaves that blasted across the church. Rows of benches were shredded by the wind, the stone floor cracked beneath their feet, and a vacuum zone formed around them from the sheer force of the clash.
He's only as strong as a Level 4… yet he can control this much power?!
That was the only thought in Zald's mind before the magic circle beneath them exploded in light.
The next second—flash.
The church was empty once more, the chaos silenced.
On the 17th floor of the Dungeon—inside the massive central chamber.
This was a place where even high-level battles could be waged freely without worrying about structural damage or interruption.
Suddenly, a blinding magic circle materialized in mid-air, its symbols flickering rapidly. A burst of light pulsed from the formation, and two figures emerged from within.
Akira and Zald.
The moment they landed, the two combatants leapt back from each other simultaneously, keeping a wary distance.
"Hoh? Interesting… So this kind of magic exists too?"
Zald looked around, intrigued by the sudden change in scenery. His eyes sparkled with genuine curiosity as he took in the surroundings.
It was the teleportation magic circle Akira had secretly prepared for himself. Originally, it was meant to save time during his next dive into the Dungeon.
"Forget it." Zald sneered, his voice low and guttural. "Let me see if you're even worthy of being devoured."
Without any further warning, he surged forward once more.
No useless chatter. No theatrics.
Only the ruthless arc of that colossal black sword, slicing through the air with a terrifying roar. The gust it carried felt like it could rip apart the very world in front of him.
But even as the blade approached like a hurricane of death, Akira's magic surged forth, erupting like a spring unsealed.
In an instant, his one-handed sword was coated in a thick layer of shimmering crystalline ice, transforming rapidly into a massive greatsword that exuded a bone-chilling aura.
"Stop talking nonsense." Akira shot back, his voice sharp and clear as he charged forward to meet the blow head-on.
Bang!
The two swords collided with a deafening crash, and the earth beneath them erupted like a cannon blast. Shards of stone and dust flew in every direction, blasting the air like shrapnel.
The impact echoed violently within the chamber, shaking the walls and assaulting the eardrums like the roar of a beast.
The windstorm born from their clash flung gravel and debris wildly through the air, whipping Akira's silver-blue hair around his face and making Zald's blood-red cloak flap violently like a battle flag.
The clash continued, a relentless storm of fury.
Ice and darkness clashed again and again—Akira's crystal greatsword against Zald's ominous black blade. The sound of steel meeting steel rang out like a war drum.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Each collision sent shockwaves through the ground, causing it to crack and splinter into a jagged web of destruction, like a monstrous spider had spun its rage across the battlefield.
Even the legendary Wall of Sighs, the very cradle of the Goliath, bore scars from their devastating exchange.
Deep scratches and gouges etched themselves across the stone surfaces—silent testaments to the ferocity of their duel.