The world changed the moment the Seven Reincarnations of Sin awakened.
One by one, ancient powers long buried returned to reality—each carrying a hunger that could not be satisfied. And today, one of them had already found its first feast.
A star was eaten.
The moment it happened, space itself trembled.
From the collapsing light emerged Chronus—the Greedy Goblin.
"ME WANT GOLD."
His voice was distorted, unstable, like reality struggling to interpret him correctly. Then he moved.
In an instant, Jhonathan's upper body was erased in a violent burst of force. No blade. No technique. Just overwhelming, absurd speed and destructive contact.
Sylviana froze. Leerooey stepped back.
Chronus tilted his head.
Too slow. Too weak.
Jhonathan revived.
His body reformed from nothing, pulling itself back together as if death were only a suggestion. Without hesitation, he stepped forward again.
Chronus smiled.
The fight resumed.
He was beyond speed.
Faster than sound. Faster than light itself—at least in perception. Every movement he made carried lethal intent; a touch to the brain or heart meant instant death, no exceptions, no delay.
Jhonathan was struck again.
And again.
And again.
But he kept returning.
Each revival made the battlefield heavier, more unstable, like the world itself was struggling to keep up with his persistence.
"RUN SYLVIANA AND LEEROOEY!" he shouted. "YOU'RE NOT STRONG ENOUGH TO HANDLE HIM!"
His voice cracked—not from pain, but from fear. Not for himself. For them.
Sylviana hesitated, then stepped forward slightly.
"No," she said quietly.
Then louder, with something like defiance buried beneath fear:
"Survive this battle. You're the last hope for me."
She hid her voice instinctively, as if remembering the world she came from—where slaves were not allowed to speak back, where speaking meant death.
But she spoke anyway.
The battle continued.
Jhonathan revived. Chronus struck. The cycle repeated.
The speed was overwhelming—draining even for someone like him. Every exchange pushed his limits further, forcing his body and mind to adapt in real time.
But even Chronus began to tire.
For the first time, his movements slowed—barely noticeable, but real.
He clicked his tongue.
"ME… DONE."
And just like that, he ran.
Retreating into the distance with impossible speed, vanishing as suddenly as he appeared.
Silence returned.
Jhonathan stood alone in the aftermath, breathing heavily as fragments of his body finished restoring.
He knew.
This was not over.
Chronus would come back.
Tomorrow. Or soon after.
The stars above continued to shine as if nothing had changed. Another day in a world that refused to stay still.
But Jhonathan's grip tightened around Dexcalibur.
Because now he understood something clearly.
This wasn't just survival anymore.
It was hunting.