Benjamin's body convulsed violently, every vein bulging as if something monstrous clawed within. His roar turned guttural, inhuman — and then, with a sickening rip, black tentacles burst from his flesh.
They writhed and thrashed, dripping a tar-like ichor that hissed as it touched the ground. The air itself seemed to recoil from their corruption.
Then, through the mask of shadow, Benjamin's eyes snapped open — twin voids burning with malice.
His glare locked onto Nathan.
In his right hand, darkness began to condense — spiraling, twisting, solidifying — until it took the shape of a sword, a weapon forged from pure corruption. It pulsed with foul energy, leaking tendrils of black mist that crawled across the ground like smoke from the abyss.
And then, Benjamin moved.
He was faster now — far faster than before. The corrupted power had consumed him, but it had also unleashed something savage, raw, and unrestrained. His massive form tore across the arena, his every step cracking the ground beneath.
Nathan's eyes narrowed. He saw the blur of movement coming. He braced himself, golden sword gleaming, ready to meet the charge — but then he caught sight of the tentacles writhing madly behind Benjamin, moving on their own, like serpents seeking prey.
Instinct screamed.
He shifted his stance and leapt back just as the tentacles struck.
BOOOM!
They smashed into the earth where he had stood a heartbeat earlier, tearing through stone and sand, leaving deep fissures in their wake.
A cloud of dust erupted, cloaking the battlefield.
But before it could settle, the tentacles lashed again — bursting upward, spearing through the haze, their tips glinting like obsidian blades.
Nathan's expression hardened. He gripped the golden sword tighter, powerful magic surging along the blade.
Then he moved.
He dashed forward, cutting through the dust, and his sword flashed — once, twice, again and again — golden arcs slicing through the darkness.
Each strike was precise, controlled, deadly. The tentacles, fast as they were, couldn't keep pace. With every swing, another was severed, black ichor splattering across the arena floor.
The crowd could barely follow. To mortal eyes, Nathan was little more than a blur of light carving through a sea of darkness.
And then —
FLASH!
Benjamin appeared right before him, moving with unnatural speed, his massive fist wreathed in black energy.
Nathan reacted instantly. His sword came down, clashing against the corrupted fist.
BAAADOOM!!!
A colossal shockwave exploded outward, shaking the arena, sending sand and debris flying. Both men were thrown back, skidding across the ground.
But before Nathan could steady himself — something seized his arm.
A tentacle, slick and pulsing with corruption, had latched onto him.
Benjamin roared, yanking Nathan toward him like a ragdoll, closing the distance in an instant.
His shadow loomed overhead — massive, monstrous, suffocating.
Nathan twisted midair, his instincts guiding him. As Benjamin's colossal fist came down, he spun aside, the blow grazing past. In that instant, Nathan seized Benjamin's arm, using his momentum —
— and flung him.
The corrupted giant was wrenched off balance, his body twisting as Nathan drove his knee upward with divine precision.
BADAM!!!
The impact cracked like thunder. Benjamin's body doubled over as the force of the strike shattered the armor plating across his torso. Pieces of black metal flew in every direction, scattering like ash.
For a brief second, time seemed to stop.
Then Benjamin was hurled backward, crashing into the ground with earth-splitting force. A crater erupted beneath him, dust and shards of rock rising in a violent surge.
Nathan didn't hesitate.
He kicked off the air itself, the golden aura around him flaring bright. Like a meteor, he descended toward the fallen foe, sword raised high —
But before the blade struck, Benjamin's body exploded.
Thick, suffocating blackness surged outward, swallowing everything in its path.
Nathan landed, blade cutting through the haze, but the body was gone — only the crater remained, a hollow scar in the arena floor.
"Where—"
He turned sharply — and then he saw it.
Benjamin stood several meters away, trembling violently. His breaths came in ragged growls, his muscles twitching uncontrollably. Cracks spread across his helmet, thin at first — then wider — until at last, with a sound like breaking glass, the mask split apart.
And what lay beneath was no longer human.
The audience gasped in collective horror.
Benjamin's face — or what remained of it — was twisted beyond recognition. His skin had turned black as tar, his veins glowing faintly crimson beneath. Where his eyes once were, now burned pits of red flame. Fangs jutted from his jaw, and every breath he drew came out as a guttural snarl.
He was no longer a man. He was a beast.
The gladiator they had cheered a lot during the tournament was a monster.
Shock rippled through the crowd, silencing even the loudest voices.
They could not believe it.
"Wow… Athena," Dionysus drawled, his voice carrying across the sky, half amused and half uneasy. He swirled the wine in his cup, eyes locked on the blackened abomination raging below. "You really should disqualify that thing and end it right now, don't you think?"
There was no jest in his tone this time — only grim truth.
That creature below was no longer a man. It was something defiled, its soul twisted by Iblis's power. Every god watching knew what that meant. Anything tainted by that ancient corruption was beyond salvation. It was a blight — and the law of all pantheons was clear: such beings were to be destroyed. Without hesitation.
Yet Athena made no move.
Her blue gaze remained steady, her expression unreadable. She neither raised her hand nor summoned her spear.
Because she knew.
There was no need.
Just as in the days of the Trojan War, she understood when intervention was unnecessary. She had seen this before — the madness of Agamemnon, the fall of heroes — and she had seen Nathan's sword bring divine judgment without necessary of any Gods intervening.
She trusted him to do it again.
"There is no need," Athena said softly, her eyes never leaving Nathan's figure.
Dionysus followed her gaze, then exhaled with a crooky smile. He understood.
Down in the arena, Nathan stood poised, golden blade gleaming, his calm unshaken despite the monstrous form before him. Benjamin loomed larger now, the corruption swelling his flesh, twisting his limbs. His sword — a black, jagged blade of living shadow — grew enormous, pulsing with hateful energy. His very presence seemed to blot out the light.
And still, Nathan remained composed.
Then — he moved.
With a sharp kick, Nathan launched forward, his form vanishing in a blur of speed.
A moment later—
BADAM!!!
A deafening impact split the air.
Benjamin's massive frame was sent hurtling backward as though struck by a divine hammer, his body crashing through the ground, shaking the entire coliseum. One of his enormous tentacles was sliced cleanly away, tumbling across the sand before Nathan followed through, golden sword flashing with radiant brilliance.
Then, with a swift arc, Nathan invoked the light of Apollo.
A searing beam of pure sunlight cascaded from his blade, striking the severed tentacle — and in an instant, it vaporized, leaving behind nothing but drifting motes of gold.
"Apollo's Light," Dionysus murmured with a grin, raising an eyebrow. "Clever… very clever." He took a slow sip of his wine, eyes gleaming with intrigue. "But I do wonder — where, and how, did Apollo ever come across this man?"
The question hung in the air, unspoken among the gods.
The other divinities looked on in stunned silence. To see a mortal wielding Apollo's light magic — a power reserved for the sun god himself — was unthinkable. Such a gift was not given lightly. It was a sign of divine recognition, of favor that transcended mortal measure.
They had all known Nathan was no ordinary man. But this… this confirmed it.
Below, Nathan blurred into motion once again. Golden radiance flared around him as he invoked Apollo's light, his every strike tearing through the darkness like the dawn breaking over night.
He slashed and spun, cutting through Benjamin's writhing tentacles — one after another — his movements too swift for mortal eyes to follow. Each swing left a blazing trail, each impact bursting in radiant sparks.
The crowd erupted.
They could no longer see him clearly — only flashes of gold and bursts of light illuminating the monstrous shadow. But it didn't matter. To them, this was no mere fight — it was legend unfolding before their eyes.
A single man, standing against a black god.
Their cheers thundered through the heavens:
"SEPTIMIUS! SEPTIMIUS!"
But the monster roared back.
A guttural, bone-shaking scream tore from Benjamin's throat as his body warped further. Out of his torso erupted a cluster of jagged weapons — spears, blades, axes — as if his very flesh had turned into a forge of chaos. His corrupted aura spiraled violently, forming a storm of black energy that cracked the very arena floor.
Nathan leapt back, skidding across the sand, eyes narrowing as the monstrous form trembled and grew.
Benjamin was changing again — larger, more grotesque, his humanity fading entirely.
Nathan's expression hardened, then softened into a faint smirk.
He raised his golden sword — Alexander's blade, gleaming with ancient might — and held it aloft.
"This," he said quietly, his voice carrying through the wind, "is for Ameriah… and Auria."
At his words, the air trembled.
Red light — fierce, divine, and wrathful — began to spiral around his blade. The power of Amun-Ra, god of the burning sun, surged forth like a blazing tide.
The ground cracked beneath Nathan's feet as the destructive energy gathered, fusing with the golden brilliance already surrounding him. His hair and cloak whipped wildly in the pressure, his eyes glowing with fiery resolve.
And as the crimson light reached its zenith, the battlefield was bathed in the radiance of a rising sun — a light that promised both judgment and annihilation.
Benjamin's monstrous eyes locked on Nathan, glowing with fury and madness. A guttural growl rumbled through his massive chest, shaking the arena like distant thunder.
Then, with a horrid, shuddering motion, every one of his tentacles began to move — twisting, coiling, and spiraling together. They converged before him, writhing like serpents, until their tips met at a single point.
Darkness gathered.
An orb began to form.
It was small at first — a trembling sphere of shadow, pulsing weakly. But with each heartbeat, it grew. The air itself thickened, humming with malignant energy. The sands of the coliseum began to lift, swirling around it as the ground beneath cracked and quaked.
The black sphere pulsed again — and this time, it shimmered with corrupted magic, raw and unstable, like a dying star. Each pulse released a wave of cold darkness that rippled outward, making even the gods watching from above narrow their eyes in concern.
The sky dimmed.
The light of the stars seemed to fade, devoured by the black sphere's hunger.
Yet Nathan remained still.
His expression was calm — eerily so — as though he were staring into something he had seen countless times before. His grip tightened around the golden hilt of Alexander's Sword, and the blade hummed with a light of its own — the Destructive Light of Ra, crimson and divine, swirling across its edge like molten fire.
He raised the sword slowly, pointing it forward, directly at Benjamin's heart.
Then—
BADOOOM!
The ground fractured beneath Benjamin's monstrous form as he released a thunderous roar, exhaling a storm of black energy toward Nathan. The corrupted magic screamed through the air, devouring everything in its path.
Nathan's lips moved — faintly.
"Breath of Ra."
And then the air split open.
BADOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
A blinding red light burst from Nathan's sword, pure and incandescent, surging forward like a divine beam of judgment. The column of energy struck the black sphere — and in that instant, shadow met sun.
The collision unleashed a roar that shattered the air.
Waves of scarlet light erupted outward, annihilating every fragment of corrupted energy. The black sphere screamed, its surface cracking and collapsing in on itself, devoured by Ra's divine wrath.
Benjamin's monstrous roar was cut short. The destructive beam pierced through him, burning through flesh, darkness, and spirit alike.
Then the light expanded — a radiant pillar shooting heavenward, piercing the clouds and splitting the night apart.
The gods above flinched back, shielding their eyes as the pillar's brilliance reached them. The divine air itself shimmered, trembling beneath the might of Amun-Ra's Breath.
Below, Benjamin's body disintegrated piece by piece — torn apart by the red brilliance. His form convulsed, imploded, and then… simply ceased to exist.
For a heartbeat, there was silence.
Then—
BADDOOOOOOOM!!!
A final explosion of crimson light blossomed like a dying sun, consuming the arena in blinding radiance. The air rippled with divine warmth; a storm of fire and starlight washed over the spectators.
And then… nothing.
When the light faded, Benjamin was gone.
Not a shadow remained — no trace of his existence, no whisper of corruption. The sands of the arena had been scorched into glass, and above them, drifting softly, were motes of red light.
They floated upward at first, then slowly began to fall — shimmering embers descending from the heavens.
The night sky glittered as though a thousand stars had been reborn.
Each ember, each spark of divine red light, drifted down toward the stands — brushing gently against the faces of the crowd, settling upon their hands, their hair, their tears.
It was as if Amun-Ra himself had scattered his blessings upon them.
And for a long, breathless moment, no one moved.
They simply gazed upward, bathed in the fading glow of a god's wrath… and the mortal who had summoned it.
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