Dasatama had realized a key mechanic: every time he locked onto Hexos’s physical frame and delivered a fatal blow, the dark magic signature dissipated a split second before the vessel disintegrated. It was an extraordinary spatial deception—a high-tier illusion capable of fooling even veteran grandmasters. Yet it could not completely blind a warrior who had survived decades of high-stakes warfare.

Whenever Hexos transferred his living core to another construct, an invisible thread of dark magic momentarily linked the two vessels. Though unseen by ordinary eyes, Dasatama’s honed combat instincts picked up the subtle directional shift of the dark soul. He had feigned confusion, intentionally allowing Hexos to believe his spatial trick remained undetected.

One by one, Dasatama destroyed the dreadnoughts, expending substantial parameter output until only two Hexos constructs remained on the field. When a solitary phantom was left, Dasatama deliberately allowed the target to close in for a high-speed strike.

The sequence laid bare Hexos’s true nature: the dark warlord held zero interest in an honorable warrior’s duel, immediately reaching back to reclaim his double-headed executioner's axe.

Hexos had assumed that Dasatama was driven to desperation, seeking to obliterate every construct in a brute-force barrage of high-density attacks. He believed the God of War was exhausting his internal reserves in a frantic attempt to clear the field.

Furthermore, Hexos had relied on Dasatama’s strict warrior honor, knowing the grandmaster refrained from cheap tactics when engaged in close-quarters combat. Yet Hexos was an operative of the dark host—a faction that had long discarded honor, sacrificing innocent lives and embracing taboo rituals to cultivate power.

To a dark cultist, noble codes were meaningless; victory by any means was their sole doctrine. There was zero room for trust when facing dark practitioners.

However, as Hexos raised his executioner's axe to deliver what he believed was a lethal ambush, Dasatama unsealed a specialized discipline he had honed over decades.

Dasatama was not merely a physical warrior; he was an absolute grandmaster of swordsmanship and spellcasting synthesis. A fraction of a second after destroying the ninth construct, he tracked the precise trajectory of Hexos’s spatial core transfer. Recognizing the ambush, Dasatama unsealed his high-speed movement, generating a localized spatial portal with his spellsword.

FLASH!

Hexos’s descending axe cleaved throughempty air, striking only the lingering residual aura left behind by Dasatama's rapid relocation. The God of War had already vanished, reappearing high above Hexos’s blind spot.

Deploying this spatial shift consumed an immense volume of internal parameters, forcing Dasatama to draw heavily upon ambient natural mana to stabilize his pathways.

Now, the tables were turned. Hexos stood isolated, believing his trap had succeeded, completely unaware that Dasatama hovered directly overhead, descending upon him in a high-velocity execution arc.

Startled by the acoustic thunder above, Hexos attempted to sweep his massive axe upward to block. Yet his reaction was a fraction of a second too slow—Dasatama deployed the absolute peak technique Aji had demonstrated to him: the pinnacle of Speed Step Swordsmanship.

It was a divine synthesis of spellsword velocity and atmospheric mana integration. Though it demanded massive parameter consumption, Dasatama deemed the expenditure entirely justified to permanently eliminate a supreme warlord of the 10 Annihilation Demons.

WOOOOOSH!

Before Hexos could raise his guard, Dasatama’s glowing spellsword cleaved straight through the titan’s center mass. Infused with white-hot celestial aura and peak spellcasting circles, the strike completely bisected Hexos’s three-meter-tall dreadnought frame.

Dasatama passed through the falling warlord, his kinetic sword aura driving downward to strike the main battlefield below. The residual wave carved an eight-meter-wide trench across the earth, forcing fighting dark cultists and orthodox infantry to leap backward, temporarily severing the engagement line.

"A title well earned... Dasatama, God of War..." Hexos rasped with his final breath as the divine sword aura incinerated his dark cardiac core. His physical vessel dissolved into a shower of black embers, falling like dark rain onto the scorched earth below.

Hovering mid-air, Dasatama breathed heavily, his internal pathways completely drained by the final strike. He needed to sit in meditation immediately to harmonize his core before fresh dark operatives converged on his position.

Exhausted, he looked up at the afternoon sky, a quiet smile touching his lips. He felt proud to carry forward the legacy of the Three Legends. He reflected on the monumental tragedy of twenty years ago, when the Three Legends had fought the dark host in absolute isolation, without the backing of a unified global alliance.

His physical frame trembled, on the verge of losing aerial control due to severe parameter depletion. Straining his remaining aura, he struggled to maintain his footing in mid-air. On the plain below, the war raged on, with orthodox defenders barely holding the line against the swarming dark host.

His body reached its absolute limit, his vision darkening as his flight domain began to dissolve. Is this my end? he wondered softly.

Just as his aerial control failed, a figure materialized beside him at sound-shattering velocity.

Unsealing a dense field of natural mana, the newcomer caught Dasatama, stabilizing his frame in mid-air. The supporting aura was so dense that Dasatama no longer needed to expend his own reserves to remain airborne, allowing him to safely rest and initiate core recovery.

Dasatama offered a grateful nod, closing his eyes as he began absorbing ambient mana to restore his internal channels. He held absolute, unshakeable faith in the young warrior guarding his flank—a champion whose true depth transcended even the legendary legacy of the Three Legends.

It was Aji.

Dasatama recognized that the entire martial world owed an unpayable debt to this youth. Every strategic piece Aji had set in motion was designed to uphold justice and preserve humanity. Dasatama realized that Aji had joined the Sky Squad not to seek glory, but to subtly guide the orthodox grandmasters toward the hidden threat of Lord Demon Shura.

Aji had quietly orchestrated their victories without ever adopting a patronizing tone, allowing the alliance leaders to discover the truth and unite through their own resolve.

Detecting Dasatama’s weakened state, a detachment of dark operatives seized the opportunity to launch a joint execution strike. Assuming the guard beside the God of War was merely an ordinary young Sky Squad member, dozens of transformed demonized dreadnoughts swarmed forward simultaneously.

Observing their approach through his sensory domain, Dasatama felt a flicker of pity for the dark cultists. To challenge the youth guarding him was an act of sheer, foolish suicide.

Before the swarming dreadnoughts could close to within five meters, Aji raised his right hand, extending his fingers. Dense threads of celestial thunder erupted from his palm, expanding into an absolute spatial domain that engulfed the approaching attackers.

A catastrophic pressure locked the dark operatives mid-air, paralyzing their nervous systems instantly. The cultists froze in utter terror, unable to move a single finger as the thunder domain compressed around them.

With a gentle flick of his wrist, Aji detonated the celestial lightning.

BLAAAAM!

A blinding wave of concentrated thunder tore through the paralyzed dreadnoughts, incinerating their physical vessels and destroying their dark cardiac cores simultaneously. The high-density strike completely neutralized their Black Blood cellular regeneration, leaving their charred, lifeless bodies to plunge toward the earth like a rain of black stones.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

The charred corpses crashed onto the battlefield below, causing fighting infantry on both sides to scatter in horror. The fallen operatives were completely frozen, their cores extinguished and their dark magic reserves erased.

Combatants on the ground looked skyward in absolute shock, wondering what manner of god-like strike could instantly disintegrate dozens of demonized dreadnoughts and deny them cellular recovery.

They saw a solitary youth standing beside the seated God of War. It was the unknown member of the Sky Squad. Did he execute that catastrophic annihilation in a single breath?

"How long do you intend to lounge around, Dasatama? The alliance needs its leader on the field," Aji said smoothly, his voice snapping Dasatama out of his meditation.

Dasatama opened his eyes, exhaling a long stream of purified mist. Though his core was not fully restored, his parameters were more than sufficient to rejoin the clash.

Hovering stably in mid-air, Dasatama offered a firm nod. "You are correct, Aji. The war is far from over!"

Glancing at the youth beside him, Dasatama felt a profound sense of familiarity. For a brief second, Aji's serene, authoritative aura mirrored the exact image of Saint Thunder Striker—the legendary grandmaster who had bested Dasatama in his youth.

Dasatama smiled inwardly. Rather than believing Aji was merely a disciple, he felt far more inclined to believe the youth was the living reincarnation of the Thunder Striker himself, returned to guide humanity through its darkest hour.

With renewed resolve, the God of War unsealed his broadsword, ready to plunge back into the fray.