Chapter 230

Chapter 230: Confrontation in the Sky City

For the first time in history, Segarth asked Midi for his name.

This meant he no longer saw his opponent as a mere ant, but as someone worthy of being marked with a unique identifier.

It also signaled that this proud Lord of the Light City would now employ the serious methods reserved for "enemies," not "insects."

“Midi Asreks,” Midi answered plainly.

Titles like those from the Hawk Brigade, Belmar, or even the Sword of Victory and Guardian held no meaning here. He saw no point in mentioning them.

“Midi Asreks,” Segarth’s voice cut coldly. “Did you assume my close-combat skills would pale against laser attacks or petty tricks like the Sky Serpent Fire Net?”

“Not at all.” Midi shook his head calmly under the icy interrogation. “I simply specialize in melee combat. Seeking an equal battlefield seemed logical.”

“Amusing.” Segarth’s tone dripped superiority. Had his golden mask allowed expressions, a sneer might’ve shown. He pressed his palms together, then drew them apart. Twin blades of glass-like cold glow materialized between his hands.

These swords, forged entirely of condensed light, shimmered ominously. Their mere sight froze the blood, drowning observers in lethal intent.

“The right blade is Sun, the left Moon,” Segarth stated. “Crafted from solar and lunar essences, tempered by dragon’s breath—my personal arms. For a mortal like you to witness these Twin Swords is an honor!”

Midi answered the arrogance with a faint smile.

No words. Only his sword spoke.

In an instant, Midi fused with his weapon, becoming a golden-red streak slashing downward.

Segarth’s body erupted in Cold Flame, meeting the strike as a sapphire blade.

Gold-red and blue clashed like dueling lightning, sparks scorching the air. The surrounding pure magic quaked violently.

At their awakening level with flight capabilities, traditional footwork meant nothing. Movement itself became offense.

The colored streaks first tangled in place, then split—twin roaring serpents writhing across the sky. Their collisions sent magic ripples pulsing outward, illuminating the gloom with fiery bursts and metallic shrieks. None could tally their exchanges.

Even level 50 elites or awakened Exiles couldn’t comprehend this battle. Only the combatants felt Death’s breath on their necks.

_He’s not just strong—he’s monstrous._

Midi’s assessment was grim. This guardian, forged by the Tyrant Dragon King Bacal to protect the heavenly seal, eclipsed ordinary Awakened Ones. His past self would’ve died instantly.

Though transformed by Extraordinary Awakening and exploiting Beam interference to force swordplay, Midi still couldn’t dominate.

Even wielding all four Demon Swordman disciplines, he found no gaps in Segarth’s Sun-Moon defense.

The Lord of Light had no weaknesses. Distance meant nothing. Perfection in every strike.

Though no practitioner himself, Segarth’s reflexes, boundless magic, and blade sharpness surpassed Awakening Skills.

_This is Bacal’s masterpiece—flawless design._

Most would’ve surrendered. Against perfection, defeat was inevitable. Midi’s shaky awakening, mediocre Black Sky Sword, and unrefined Sky Sword Dance worsened the odds.

But having died once, Midi clung to the slimmest hope. No retreat. No despair.

Absolute perfection?

No, in Midi’s eyes, the Lord of the Light City wasn’t some flawless adversary—merely a perfectly balanced creation.

Having no weaknesses meant no outstanding strengths, his power spread too thin across all aspects. Attacks that should’ve been devastating grew weaker, shackled by defenses and speed.

That became Midi’s opening!

A crimson flash pierced Midi’s starry black pupils.

The Berserker’s Awakening Skill: Blood Rage.

Having mastered all four categories of Demon Swordman skills, Midi naturally obtained four Awakening Skills. Upon activating Blood Rage, he felt a door burst open within, tidal waves of energy flooding his limbs. His level skyrocketed five levels instantly!

From 51 to 55, the Dragon Sealing Sword in his grasp transformed. Razor-sharp light patterns etched themselves along the blade, glowing with condensed brilliance.

Midi’s entire being throbbed with destructive impulses, his consciousness fraying at the edges—the Berserker skill’s inherent flaw. Unleashing the demon god through blood sacrifice always corrupted the user’s mind.

But Midi’s demon god had merged perfectly with him. Enhanced by Dragon’s Blood, he anchored his will against the Frenzy’s assault. His eyes gleamed with clarity, calmness returning faster than a heartbeat. No weakness showed.

The five-level surge transformed his power and speed. The stalemate shattered instantly.

Above, golden-red light exploded across the sky, threatening to consume the Lord of the Light City. Countless blade strikes rained from all directions!

"You think this defeats me?" the Lord bellowed. "Fool!"

Twice now! First the Earthly Stone Bombs, now sword strikes marring his pristine golden armor—even wounding his flesh. Rage consumed him.

A Dragon Roar shook the air. The Cold Flame in his eyes flared, shifting from blue to lethal purple-gold. The hue spread through his body, leaking from his golden mask’s seams and armor’s cracks.

His ultimate skill: Crystal Body Dominance. Lightning erupted from him as attack, defense, and speed amplified. No ordinary blow could stagger him now—only strikes to vital points mattered.

Both sides had played their trump cards.

Yet theirs differed fundamentally. The Lord’s Crystal Body Dominance boosted all attributes evenly, lightning crackling around his unstoppable form.

Midi’s Blood Rage only amplified power and speed. All defense abandoned, every move became life-or-death evasion. But his attacks now outspeeded the Lord’s defenses, each strike biting true.

Segarth’s fury burned, yet beneath it pulsed something alien—fear. A mortal insect was harming him? Growing stronger mid-battle?

"Could it be that I, Bacal’s perfect creation, would fall?"

"No, you’re the one who’ll die!" the Lord of the Light City roared through gritted teeth.

Snake-like lightning bolts, eye-fired lasers, blade energies from his sword edge, and petal-storm slashes… Segarth poured out every skill he possessed. This wasn’t merely about crushing an insect – this was his desperate fight for survival.

Under this barrage of relentless attacks, even Midi’s astonishing speed couldn’t save him. Lightning charred his skin, ricocheting lasers scorched his body, while the Twin Swords’ energies carved bone-deep gashes across his flesh.

Yet Midi didn’t yield an inch.

His counterattacks burned fiercer.

All four categories of Demon Swordman skills merged into crimson-gold brilliance.

Awakening Skills cascaded like tidal waves.

Pure magic vibrated beneath his blades as air itself boiled around his strikes.

The Lord’s golden armor shattered piece by piece under Midi’s relentless sword light. Even the magical entity’s crystal shell – tougher than Golden Crystal and immune to fatigue – began cracking under the storm of slashes and thrusts.

Midi kept growing stronger.

Such was Blood Rage’s power – the Berserker Awakening Skill let him drain magic and life-force from everything around him, friend or foe. Normally, the mental backlash would’ve destroyed any user. But Midi’s Dragon’s Blood and bond with the demon god made him immune. As long as his reforged body endured, the slaughter could continue.

Another brutal exchange.

Midi gained another gruesome shoulder wound.

But this sacrifice forced the defensive Lord of the Light City to drop his guard.

Instantly activating Sky Sword Dance, Midi became light itself, darting inside Segarth’s reach.

Now mere arm’s length apart – perfect Demon Swordman range.

Midi inhaled sharply, channeling all power into the glowing Dragon Sealing Sword. Gripping Black Sky Sword with both hands, he struck.

CRACK!

A dragon’s agonized scream shook the Floating City. Purple-gold radiance erupted like geysers as magic shockwaves triggered chain explosions.

At the blast’s heart, Midi and Segarth stood locked together.

The lightless Black Sky Sword protruded from the Lord’s back, having pierced the massive crystal core within his chest.

Ordinary Exiles contained star-like entities, but Segarth – peak of magical entities – relied on this colossal crystal heart-soul. Its destruction meant certain death, irreversible even by King Bacal of the Tyrant Dragon himself.

Segarth stared disbelievingly at the blade in his chest before fixing Midi with a final, burning gaze – memorizing his killer’s face.

Then light exploded from the Lord’s body, outshining the sun.

The Floating City fell silent.

Exiles froze as their commander fell.

The Hawk Brigade and Imperial army stood stunned, battle forgotten.

Originally, after seeing how serious the Lord of the Light City had become, even Kelvin and Midi’s strongest supporters held no hope.

As the Lord himself said, forcing him to this point was already an achievement. The power to flatten mountains with mere movements wasn’t something flesh-and-blood beings could withstand.

None imagined that stripping away disguises, revealing all trump cards, abandoning techniques, and relying solely on hard clashes of power would end this way.

The Lord of the Light City had fallen, dead!

Midi Asreks stood victorious!

"We… won?" A Hawk Brigade warrior stammered, disbelieving.

"Probably… won?" Dickson replied uncharacteristically hesitant.

"Stop gawking! Search for Lord Midi!" Kelvin adjusted his glasses, eyeing the still-blazing sky nervously.

"That guy’s unkillable." Dragonkin warrior Tanius remained calm. "He beat me – no mere explosion takes down such iron-willed humans."

But these words offered little comfort. The explosion dwarfing earthly stone bombs’ fury spread palpable anxiety through the Hawk Brigade. Only with Midi present were they truly the Hawk Brigade. Only with Midi did the "Iron Triangle" hold meaning.

The Delos Empire troops felt more conflicted. They’d wanted Midi’s victory – their nation had poured endless resources into claiming the Awakening Ground. Yet now that he’d won, they wondered: should they hope he perished alongside his foe?

Perhaps. Midi remained their bloodstained nemesis. His awakening shattered the Empire’s balance of power – a deranged strategic weapon. Letting him live would haunt every higher-up’s nightmares.

But his death doomed them too. Exhausted Imperial soldiers barely held formation against the Exiles. Even if leaderless Exiles retreated, the unscathed Hawk Brigade would slaughter them as offerings to Midi’s spirit.

Yet if Midi lived and honored their pact, they’d return home as Awakening Ground heroes. But would the slayer of Light City’s Lord keep promises?

Better if he died?

"Wishful thinking backfires," Reinhardt sighed bitterly. The scheming fourth prince shook his head, too drained to care. With his meager trump cards, pondering outcomes proved pointless. They could only wait – unawakened mortals before fate’s wheel.

Time blurred. Clouds parted like post-storm clarity. Sunlight painted rainbows across azure skies.

Then it came – that familiar, commanding aura.

All eyes lifted.

There he stood beneath the firmament, hands clasped behind him. Wind rippled his battle robes as golden-red sword light radiated starlike chill. Bloodied yet unbroken, his eyes blazed with triumph.

Real. Unmistakable.

There he stood.

The undefeated war god.