Clatter
"…Didn’t he already tell you that your fight isn’t with him?"
Pythor slowly turned his massive head backward, his glowing purple eyes locking onto Robin, who stood firm with his slender spear pointed directly at him.
Pythor looked at his rival from top to bottom, "You… Robin Burton, was it you who caused my body to explode? What is happening to me?"
"I… don’t know," Robin replied, his golden eyes scanning Pythor from head to toe as well, his expression unreadable. "But I can see strange movements within your body. My eyes tell me that your physical form is trying to abandon the ’Beast King’ state and revert to your original self, and I mean your true human self… but the Purple Sun refuses to comply. It’s resisting, forcing you to remain in your current transformation. Why don’t you just deactivate the Planet’s Gift and return to your original form? That might help us understand what’s wrong with you."
"Hah… Hah… Very funny, Robin Burton," Pythor let out a low, guttural laugh, though there was no humor in his voice. Crack! His muscles tensed as he twisted his enormous body toward his rival, his every movement radiating hostility. Step by step, he began to close the distance between them, his focus narrowing until Robin was the only thing in his vision.
"I have a better idea," he growled, his tone dripping with menace. "I’ll kill you first… then, I’ll go and ask the Red Plague King. I’m sure he knows a thing or two about what’s happening to me."
Robin remained silent, his sharp gaze fixed on Pythor. Then, without a word, he calmly raised his right hand to shoulder level and pressed it downward.
Whoosh!
The suffocating black smoke that had become so dense it obscured all vision suddenly compressed and sank, forming a thick, low-lying fog that clung to the ground like a heavy blanket.
"…?!?"
The demons, who had been struggling to sense anything through the thick haze, suddenly found their soul sence restored. It was so abrupt, so unnatural, that many of them momentarily froze, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
Then, Robin’s voice rang out clearly in everyone’s ears:
"There’s no need to panic, everyone. Use the portals calmly and evacuate to the new rendezvous point in the southern region. Begin your recovery. The battle is over!"
"What?!?"
Sakaar flinched, nearly losing his grip on Amon, who was still draped over his shoulder. "We may be injured, but the army is still here! Together we can still—"
"Leave!" Robin’s command came again, firmer than before
.
Sakaar clenched his teeth, his mind racing, but before he could argue further, Richard’s voice cut through the tension: "Move through the portals. All of you!"
Bam! Bam!
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The demons did not waste a single breath protesting. Without hesitation, they rushed toward the nearest portals, diving headfirst into the swirling energy, desperate to escape the unbearable heat that still lingered in the air.
"The Lord’s son!!" Sakaar shouted at Richard, his voice filled with frustration. "Aren’t you worried about your father?! He’s going to fight that thing alone! Didn’t you see what happened to Holak?!"
"….." Richard stood there, his expression unreadable as he carried Caesar’s unconscious body over his shoulder. "The battle is over. I’ve heard him say something similar before… on the Poison Rock Planet. I believe the result will be the same this time as well."
With those final words, he activated a spatial portal and stepped through, his figure vanishing in an instant. Behind him, countless demons followed suit, disappearing one after another.
"…Damn it!" Sakaar cursed under his breath. He had no choice. With a last, reluctant glance at the battlefield, he summoned his own portal, lifted Amon’s battered body, and leaped inside.
A deep, menacing chuckle echoed through the air.
"Hsss… Hsss… How touching," Pythor sneered as he resumed his slow, predatory advance toward Robin, his eyes burning with pure, unfiltered bloodlust. "Sacrificing yourself so your followers can escape? How noble."
"I just don’t want to see you pull some cheap trick before your death and drag the rest of my men down with you."
Robin tapped the ground twice with his spear, the sharp sound echoing through the scorched battlefield. Then, without hesitation, he started walking toward Pythor as well. His body still trembled faintly, veins pulsating with the remnants of green energy seeping into his muscles and bones.
"You still have a cataclysm Sealing Cube left, don’t you?" Robin’s voice was calm, almost casual, as he kept advancing. "If my guess is correct… you’re the one holding it."
"Hss… hss… hss…" Pythor let out a low, raspy laugh. "You actually think I’d use the Cataclysm Sealing Cube on you?" His laughter grew louder. "Aren’t you overestimating yourself a little, Robin Burton? I’ve memorized your combat style. There’s nothing you possess that would force me to use such a suicidal move. and if you think you can just stall for time until your allies escape, then open a space rift and flee yourself, forget it. You’d only embarrass yourself trying."
Pythor’s eyes gleamed as he studied Robin, his gaze predatory, unwavering.
"Space and Time… two terrifying laws, no doubt. But you can’t fully wield them, can you?" He sneered. "It has something to do with those markings on your body. You’re barely scratching the surface of the Laws. And let’s not forget your pitiful level… A Sage!! If I increase my speed just a little, I’ll be able to capture you with ease."
"Oh no, how terrifying," Robin said mockingly, chuckling as he continued moving forward. His head tilted upward slightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Heh~ No matter how much I try, I just can’t seem to hate you, Pythy. Is there really no way we can work together?"
"...Pythy?"
Pythor’s body tensed at the nickname, his expression twitching. Then, after a brief pause, he responded, "There is a way, Robin Burton, you don’t need to die. Swear loyalty to me. Become my first aide— you will have a status much higher than all the newly appointed Marshals." His voice was low, filled with temptation.
Robin sighed and shook his head.
"Such a shame…" With a single effortless motion, he leaped over a pool of bubbling lava, landing gracefully on the other side. Then, gazing up at the sky with a playful grin, he added, "You’re simply unqualified to have my services."
At this moment the dense energy coursing through his body slowly faded.
The healing process was complete.
Pythor let out a deep, dry laugh, shaking his head. "What an ironic twist, Robin Burton. You… a Truthborn Seed of immense potential, someone with a legitimate chance of becoming a Great Truth Chosen when you reach the Fifth Stage of your law… only to die at the hands of a mere mutant like me?" His laughter turned into a harsh, self-deprecating chuckle.
Bzzzt—
The last warrior to pass through the portals was a Warlord. The shimmering gates flickered before sealing shut one by one, vanishing into nothingness.
Now, only two remained in the miniature hellscape.
Robin.
Pythor.
Step.
Robin stopped at a calculated distance from Pythor, his gaze settling on his opponent’s face for a few seconds. His eyes held something almost resembling… pity.
"I’d love to prolong this," Robin said, his tone light, almost amused. "Exchange a few more insults, banter a little… but I need to end this now. My body has barely recovered enough for one final attack. I can’t afford any more delays."
His golden eyes flared brilliantly, twin beacons cutting through the darkness. Activating Eye of Truth at full power, he pointed his spear directly at Pythor’s body, scanning him from head to toe.
"Your energy core… your soul domain… your heart." Robin’s voice was steady, deliberate. "I can see all three. Which one would you like me to destroy?"
"...Hah?"
Pythor blinked before erupting into laughter. It was a cruel, guttural sound. "Ha… ha… HAHA! Go ahead, take your pick! Attack them all if you can!" His grin widened as his killing intent surged, his tail rising high into the air.
"Hmm…" Robin hummed, tapping his spear lightly against the ground, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "I’m not sure what would happen if I destroyed your soul domain as I still want your initial soul. And I have no idea what would happen if I shattered your energy core— after all, I already split it in half, and yet you’re still standing."
He paused, then grinned. "So… I’ll go for the heart."
Tap.
Robin’s spear struck the ground lightly.
Pythor’s eyes blazed with fury. "Hah! Then I’ll melt you first!!"
SWOOSH!
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Pythor’s colossal tail came crashing down like a meteor, its sheer force distorting the air around it. From this close… there was no way Robin could dodge.
"Die, Robin Burt—!"
But Robin didn’t move. He simply watched the attack descend, his smile never fading.
Then, in a soft whisper, he uttered a single word:
"…Goodbye, my temporary rival."
Ooooooommmmmmm—
The world around Robin… stopped moving.