Chapter 1439: An Oath Reforged

Arthur stood in the center, while arms of spiritual energy emerged in every direction. He was a torchlight in a world of darkness. As he floated to stand between the cave and the army, the arms kept multiplying to reach the hundreds.

Each hand was as big as a boulder, capable of crushing multiple foes at once — which they did. The arms came crashing down like meteors, stretching down the mountain and slamming to the monsters of darkness.

The army had thousands of monsters.

But each arm took down tens at a time.

Despite the numerical advantage that the army had, Arthur was an impassable mountain. The spiritual energy began to distort the fabric of existence as they crushed these abyssal spirits into nothingness.

The golden arms of Arthur’s spiritual energy moved with terrifying precision, each strike obliterating swathes of the abyssal horde. The creatures howled as they were crushed, their forms dissolving into black mist—only to be swallowed by the next wave of monsters surging forward.

Yet, for every hundred that fell, another hundred took their place.

Invidia watched from above, his expression unreadable. His fingers twitched, as if itching to reach out and take the power before him. But he held back, his envy tempered by caution. He knew better than to rush a beast at the brink of eruption.

Arthur, meanwhile, felt the weight of his own energy pressing against him. His form flickered, golden light bleeding out like liquid fire. The more he fought, the more unstable he became. His very soul was straining to contain the storm within.

This isn’t sustainable.

A single misstep, and the backlash would tear him apart.

But he couldn’t stop.

Not when Lusica was still vulnerable inside the cave.

Not when Invidia’s gaze burned with the hunger of a thief waiting to steal his very essence.

One of the abyssal golems, a towering monstrosity of jagged stone and writhing shadows, broke through the barrage of golden arms. It swung a massive fist, aiming to crush Arthur where he stood.

Arthur didn’t dodge.

Instead, he grabbed the fist mid-air.

His hand—no longer fully corporeal—sank into the stone like molten metal. The golem shuddered as golden veins spread across its body, pulsing once before it detonated in a burst of light.

The shockwave sent nearby abyssal seekers flying, their bodies disintegrating before they hit the ground.

Invidia’s lips curled.

"Magnificent," he murmured. "Such power... and yet, you waste it on these mindless drones."

Arthur didn’t answer. His focus was split—between the battle, the unstable overflow of his energy, and the growing realization that he couldn’t hold this forever.

He needed to end this.

Now.

With a roar, Arthur pulled.

The golden arms retracted, collapsing back into his body in a single, shuddering breath. The sudden absence of their crushing force left the remaining abyssal forces stumbling forward, confused.

Then—

Arthur exploded.

A sphere of golden light erupted from his core, expanding outward in an unstoppable wave. The earth trembled. The sky split. Every abyssal creature caught in the radius screamed as their forms were unmade, their stolen existence returning to the void.

Invidia’s mount screeched, its wings beating frantically as it tried to retreat. But even the Sin of Envy was forced to raise an arm against the blinding radiance, his stolen powers straining to shield him from the devastation.

When the light faded, the valley was gone.

A crater stretched where the army had stood, the earth scorched clean of corruption. Only Invidia remained, hovering above the devastation, his armor cracked and his expression twisted between awe and rage.

Arthur stood at the center, his form flickering wildly. He was dimmer now—his energy spent, his outline barely holding together. But his gaze never wavered.

Invidia’s fingers twitched again.

This time, he lunged.

His mount dissolved into mist as he descended like a blade, his hand outstretched—reaching for Arthur’s throat, for his power, for the very core of his being.

Arthur smiled.

And let go.

A final pulse of golden light burst from his chest—not as an attack, but as a beacon.

Invidia’s fingers almost touched him—

Then, a sword of pure light slammed down between them.

The shockwave sent Invidia hurtling back, his stolen defenses shattering on impact. He crashed into the far side of the crater, his body carving a trench through the earth.

When the dust settled, a new figure stood beside Arthur.

Lusica.

His form was no longer dark, no longer broken. Golden sigils danced along his skin, his eyes alight with purpose. In his hand, the sword of light hummed—a manifestation of his reforged oath.

"You’re late," Arthur said, his voice weak but amused.

Lusica didn’t smile. His gaze was locked onto Invidia, who was already rising from the rubble.

"This time," Lusica said, his voice steady, "I kill him myself."

Invidia wiped blood from his lips.

Then, he laughed.

"Perfect," he hissed. "Two legends for the price of one."

The battle was far from over.

And Arthur’s light was fading fast.

The wind howled through the crater, carrying the scent of scorched earth and fading darkness. Arthur’s form flickered like a dying candle, his spiritual energy nearly spent. But his eyes remained sharp, watching as Lusica stepped forward, his golden blade humming with restrained power.

Invidia rose from the rubble, his armor cracked but his grin unbroken. His white hair, now streaked with dust and blood, framed a face alight with manic hunger.

"Lusica, was it?" he mused, rolling the name on his tongue like a stolen sweet. "The broken knight who crawled out of the abyss. How fitting that you’d cling to him like a lost pup."

Lusica didn’t answer. His grip on the sword tightened.

Arthur exhaled, forcing himself to stay upright. "He’s baiting you," he muttered. "His power thrives on envy—on wanting what others have. The more you react, the stronger he gets."

Lusica gave a single, curt nod.

Then, he moved.

His blade cut through the air like a falling star, a streak of golden light aimed straight for Invidia’s throat. The Sin of Envy barely twisted aside in time, but the edge still grazed his shoulder—and where it touched, his flesh burned.

Invidia hissed, his stolen power writhing to repair the wound. But the golden fire lingered, resisting his corruption.

"Annoying," he spat.

Lusica didn’t let up. Each swing of his sword was precise, brutal, a lifetime of suppressed fury honed into a single purpose: erase this man from existence.

Invidia dodged, weaved, but for the first time, he wasn’t laughing. He was calculating.

Then—he struck back.

His hand shot out, not at Lusica, but at the air itself. A ripple tore through space, and suddenly, Lusica’s own momentum was reversed, his body hurling backward as if yanked by invisible chains.

Stolen movement.

Invidia lunged after him, his fingers elongating into jagged, shadowed claws—

Arthur snapped his fingers.

A single golden sigil flared beneath Invidia’s feet.

The ground swallowed him.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Then, the earth ruptured as Invidia burst free, his form now half-drenched in swirling darkness, his stolen powers writhing like serpents around him.

"You dare—" he began.

Lusica’s sword plunged into his chest.

The blade erupted with light, searing through Invidia’s stolen defenses. The Sin of Envy gasped, his eyes widening as golden fire spread through his veins.

But then—he smiled.

And his hand clamped around Lusica’s wrist.

"Mine," he whispered.

A surge of black energy shot up Lusica’s arm, his golden sigils flickering under the assault. His knees buckled. His sword dimmed.

Arthur saw it before it happened.

He’s stealing Lusica’s oath.

With the last of his strength, Arthur threw himself forward. His hand—transparent now, barely solid—slammed against Invidia’s forehead.

"Remember."

A flood of memories detonated between them.

Invidia screamed.

Images tore through his mind—not of power, not of stolen glories, but of emptiness. Of a throne room where he stood alone, where every treasure he’d ever taken turned to dust in his hands. Of a face—Diana’s face—looking at him not with fear, but with pity.

The Sin of Envy recoiled as if burned.

Lusica wrenched his sword free and cut.

The blade cleaved through Invidia’s shoulder, severing his arm in a burst of black blood. The stolen energy within it shattered, releasing a shockwave that sent all three of them flying.

Invidia hit the ground rolling, his remaining hand clutching his wound. His breaths came in ragged gasps, his stolen powers now unstable, bleeding out of him.

For the first time, there was fear in his eyes.

Lusica stood, his sword still blazing. Arthur, barely a silhouette now, managed a weary grin.

"Finish it," he murmured.

Lusica raised his blade—

And Invidia fled.

A vortex of shadows swallowed him whole, leaving behind only a fading echo of his laughter.

Silence fell.

Then, Lusica’s knees hit the dirt.

Arthur collapsed beside him, his form flickering in and out of existence.

"...He’ll be back," Arthur muttered.

Lusica exhaled, long and slow. "I know."

A gust of wind scattered the ashes of battle. Somewhere in the distance, the first hints of dawn touched the horizon.

The two men sat there, battered but unbroken.

And for the first time in centuries—

Lusica smiled.

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