[The Tree of Life]
The air in the grove was heavy with the scent of ozone and medicinal herbs. Cynthia stood by her black motorcycle, her eyes burning with a quiet, dangerous intensity. Her mana had returned, flickering like a pilot light.
"I'm not sitting around here," she said, her voice like grinding stones. "I'm going to train. If that monster wants a show, I'll give him a funeral." She kicked the starter, the engine roared to life, and she tore out of the grove, leaving a trail of scorched grass behind her.
Lapis sat on a stone bench, his regenerated hand trembling. "I will not fight," he said quietly.
Alya gasped. "But why? Lapis, we need your space-warping!"
Techyon limped toward his friend. "Lapis, what are you saying? We've always fought together!"
"It's useless," Lapis replied, looking at his palm. "He has adapted to my every attack. My matter manipulation, my warping... he's already written the counter-code for my soul. None of my attacks will even touch his armor now."
"Then we will train the one person he can't predict," Neweland said, stepping forward alongside Yoru. "Techyon... we are going to train you."
Techyon looked around, confused. "Me? Are you guys serious? I didn't last against his first form for a single second. How am I supposed to fight a 'Perfect' God who breaks the laws of physics?"
"Because of your Passive Ability," the Arcon of Life spoke, her voice echoing with ancient authority. "You have to upgrade it to Level 2. Your Auto-Counter is a reaction, not an action. It doesn't rely on your mana level—it relies on his."
Neweland nodded. "An auto-counter cannot be adapted to. It is a mathematical paradox. To adapt to it, he would have to stop attacking entirely."
Techyon stared at them. "How do you even know about my Level 2 potential?"
Neweland glanced at the Arcon of Life and gave a small, knowing smirk. "Who do you think told me? We've been watching your bloodline for a long time, kid."
Yoru placed a hand on Techyon's shoulder, her golden aura flaring. "Come with me. I am going to push you past your limits. And if I fall during the duel... the rest of you will rush him. But for that to work, you need to be the one to open the first hole in his perfection."
The silence in the grove was deafening. Techyon broke it, his voice tight with logic. "Wait... even if I master the Auto-Counter, what about his Mana Drain? In his Perfect Form, he doesn't even need to touch us. He can exhaust us just by standing there. We'll be empty before we can even throw a punch."
Everyone fell into a deep, heavy thought.
Yoru looked at her hands. "That is the core problem. In terms of pure physical strength, I believe we are equal now... but the drain is the tiebreaker. I can hide my mana behind my soul-seals, but with his new eyes, he sees right through them. If we could somehow block that drain... Cynthia could likely solo him. Maybe even one-shot him with her Fusion Flare."
Neweland nodded grimly. "Techyon is right. The more of us there are, the more 'food' he has. We aren't an army; we're just a multi-course meal for him."
"Does anyone have Mana Protection?" Alya asked hopefully.
Neweland sighed, looking at the Arcon of Life. "In this sector? No one. That's a high-tier Horseman ability. We're defenseless against it."
Techyon slammed his fist into a tree. "Then how are we supposed to defeat him? It's a rigged game!"
"We need a plan," Yoru said, her eyes turning toward the Northern horizon. "A plan that doesn't rely on how much mana we have, but how fast we can use it before it's gone."
Techyon rubbed his chin, a spark of hope returning to his eyes. "Yoru... you're one of the Four Z Elite, right? The legendary defenders of the sectors?"
Yoru raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but why are you asking? You've known that since the day we met."
"Think about it," Techyon pressed. "If Gudmaro is a Universal threat, where are the others? Can't the other Z Elite help us? I mean... don't you have friends?"
Yoru froze, her green eyes widening. "Friends... the Elite... thanks for the reminder, Techyon. I've been so focused on Gudmaro's power levels that I completely forgot about her."
Yoru swept her hand through the air, pulling up her Status Window. She bypassed the combat logs and tapped a hidden contact icon. The air shimmered as a holographic projection flickered to life.
A woman with vibrant green hair and matching emerald eyes appeared, sitting on a mat in a peaceful, sun-drenched garden.
"Hello, Nefa," Yoru said. "What are you doing?"
Nefa didn't even open her eyes. She remained in a perfect lotus position. "I was just doing yoga, Yoru. Trying to realign my soul-frequency."
"Did you hear the broadcast?" Yoru asked, her voice urgent. "The one that went out to the entire globe?"
Nefa gave a tiny, relaxed smile. "Oh, the one from the noisy violet man on the mountain? Yes. Good luck with your duel, Yoru. I'll be sure to pray for the opponent's soul. He sounded very confident."
"Nefa, this isn't a joke!" Yoru snapped. "Where are you currently?"
"I'm at my aunt's house in the Southern Isles," Nefa replied, finally cracking one eye open. "The tea is excellent."
"Come here fast," Yoru commanded. "We need you. Gudmaro has reached Perfection. He's draining the mana of anyone who gets close. We need your speedster skills."
Nefa groaned, falling backward onto her mat. "I am not going anywhere. I was clearing S-Rank dungeons non-stop for fourteen days straight. My armor is still being repaired and I am on vacation. I am going to rest now."
Yoru gritted her teeth. "What about the others? Carod and Frexy? Where are they?"
Nefa sighed, looking up at the holographic sky. "Frexy is currently on a massive dungeon raid in the Eastern Abyss—she's been unreachable for days. And as for Carod... well, you know him. I don't have the slightest clue where he is. Probably picking a fight with a black hole somewhere."
Yoru looked at Techyon, then back at the screen. "Nefa, if I fall, the universe is next. Is your vacation really worth the end of existence?"
[The Northern Frontier - Space Border]
While the heroes scrambled for a strategy, Gudmaro stood motionless on the peak of the mountain, staring into the black abyss of space.
"I promised to destroy this planet in three days," he mused, his violet wings shimmering. "But it seems the universe is impatient. It wants to finish the job for me."
High above, a massive shadow began to blot out the stars. A 2,300km-wide meteor, a rogue titan of rock and ice, was screaming toward Earth's atmosphere. It was an extinction-level event.
Gudmaro didn't flinch. He ignited his flames and shot upward, breaking the sound barrier in a fraction of a second. He met the meteor in the vacuum of space, reaching out with a single hand.
THOOM.
The impact should have shattered the continent, but Gudmaro stopped the multi-billion-ton rock dead in its tracks with one arm.
"Let's make a perfect stadium for the perfect duel," he whispered.
He tapped the center of the meteor with his index finger, and a web of violet energy shattered the outer shell. With surgical precision, he began "carving" the rock, slicing through the prehistoric stone as if it were butter. Within seconds, he had shaped a massive, flat, square platform of cosmic stone.
He shoved the platform downward. It fell like a god's hammer, landing perfectly on the flattened peak of the Northern Mountain. The shockwave cleared every cloud in the hemisphere.
Gudmaro drifted down and landed in the center of the dark, smooth arena. "The stadium is perfect," he said, the wind whipping his violet flames. "Now... I just have to wait for the guests of honor".