(Planet Juxta, The Sky Above, Raymond and Charles's POV)

Although he had survived Charles's blade, what unsettled Raymond far more was how the Cult's Vice Sect Master had managed to weaponize Soron's aura against him, and the chilling possibility that he might still have more of those orbs hidden away.

The thought gnawed at him, for in all his years of training beneath Kaelith, he had never once heard of a God's aura being stored, let alone unleashed as a weapon.

"How did you do it? How did you put Soron's aura into a glass orb? Tell me, and perhaps I will grant you an easy death."

Raymond pressed, his curiosity sharpened by anger.

But Charles only raised his blood-soaked hand and gave him the finger, his lips curling into a grin even as exhaustion clung to his frame.

"Fuck you—"

The Cult's Vice Sect Master spat, his defiance plain, as Raymond's fury flared, the Demi-God launching a fresh flurry of attacks.

*CLANG*

*CLANG*

*SLASH*

Steel clashed, sparks rained, and at last Raymond's blade carved across Charles's shoulder, the cut this time deeper than ever before, as blood sprayed hot into the sky.

Charles staggered, his movement a fraction slower now, the weight of crushed hope settling over him, though he masked it with a hardened gaze.

He had no strategy left to win anymore, and was fighting just for the sake of not giving up.

For at this point only a miracle could save him from the jaws of death.

As internally, he felt the truth clawing at him with every heartbeat— his body was quickly reaching its limit.

He had been fighting at one hundred and ten percent from the very start, but in the end, he was still only a Monarch standing against a Demi-God, and no amount of defiance could change the inevitable.

As the simple truth was that he wasn't Raymond's match.

"Fine, if you won't tell me the easy way, I'll make you blurt it out the hard way—"

Raymond's voice cut through the sky like a blade as he raised his hand to gather mana for one of his strongest attacks.

"[Divine Severance]"

The words were not a shout but a verdict, as the crimson domain around him flared like a second sun.

Space itself warped under the Demi-God's will, as in that instant Charles felt the pressure of the Demi-God's aura reach unprecedented levels.

Charles tried to shift, his blade lifting, Intent Mastery flaring to the limit as he tracked the incoming arc, but the speed was unlike anything he had seen before.

*SSHHHHRRRK*

Pain exploded across his side as his non-dominant left arm vanished in a mist of red, severed so cleanly he didn't even feel it leave at first, but rather only saw the stump where it had been, as the limb tumbled like a dying bird into the ocean far below.

"I'll ask you again," Raymond said, his tone almost casual against the roar of the wind. "How did you do it? And if you don't answer, I'll cut another limb next—"

He warned as blood dripped like a shower from Charles's torso, his breath ragged, yet his eyes burning as bright as ever.

"Fuck you," he rasped, voice hoarse but steady, the defiance etched into his face like stone, as he shifted his stance, his remaining hand tightening around his sword.

*SLASH*

Another streak of red light tore through the sky.

This time his right leg vanished at the knee, ripped away in a flash of pain so deep it almost felt cold.

*SPURTT*

Blood sprayed in an arc, raining down to the ocean below in sheets as his vision blurred around the edges.

The wind screamed past his ears, yet the stoic defiance on his face did not change. He adjusted his balance mid-air using sheer will and Intent, his sword arm trembling but still raised between them.

Raymond's black eyes narrowed, studying the man who still refused to break.

"I'll ask you again. How did you do it?"

"Fuck. You."

Charles spat, blood mingling with the words, as—

*SLASH*

His left leg went next, cut clean away. His body now little more than a wreck of blood and ragged breath that was unable even to twist through the air like he once did, for without his limbs he could not dodge or maneuver like he used to.

The fight was over, both he and Raymond knew that, and yet, he still refused to comply.

For a moment, Raymond just watched him, his expression shifting from curiosity to irritation, then to something colder.

"Fine. If you don't want to say, then you can just die."

He muttered, as without warning he aimed for the head next, instead of the last limb.

*SSHHHHK*

*THUNK*

The Demi God's blade swept once more, and once more Charles was a little too slow to block, as despite watching the intent line close down around his neck, he became powerless to stop it.

*SLASH*

Charles felt a brief sting, a brief warmth, and then weightlessness as his world spun. His body drifted one way, his head the other.

Yet his lips curved into a small, tired smile.

In the end, his last thoughts were not of fear or regret but of pride, pride that he had defended the Cult to his last breath, pride that he had not bent or begged, pride that he had stood tall even as his body fell apart.

In his final moments, he thought of all the faces he had saved, all the hands that had gripped his in gratitude and all the underlings who had followed him into hell without hesitation.

He thought of Leo, the boy who would one day surpass him, and how his legacy would live on through him even if his own life ended here.

And as the wind carried his severed head downward, his blood trailing like a banner, one final thought drifted across his fading consciousness, light and almost playful:

'Agh, shit… I wish I could have had one last drag before I died… but I guess I'll leave it for the next life.'

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