The throne room could no longer be called majestic.
Cracked pillars.
A shattered ceiling.
Blood staining polished marble.
And at its center—
Three figures stood opposed.
Saare moved first.
Holy aura erupted from his body, pure white light flooding the room and forcing back Loki's demonic pressure.
"Divine Slash!"
His blade traced a crescent of radiant energy, slicing forward with enough force to cleave through fortress walls.
Garde followed seamlessly.
"Sacred Impalement."
His spear thrust forward, splitting into dozens of converging light lances aimed at every vital point.
Their teamwork was flawless.
Years of synchronized combat.
No wasted movement.
No hesitation.
Loki watched it all.
And smiled.
"Oh? Starting strong."
He raised one hand casually.
The marble floor beneath him cracked—
And from thin air, black metal began to form.
Material Creation.
A sword manifested in his right hand. A second in his left. Behind him, spears, rapiers, and curved blades shimmered into existence.
Tedron's eyes widened.
'He's creating weapons… from nothing?'
The holy slash reached Loki first.
He stepped forward.
One blade flicked upward.
A thin, almost lazy movement—
The divine crescent split cleanly in half.
Not dispersed.
Not deflected.
Cut.
Saare's eyes widened.
'He severed holy energy?'
The spears of light arrived next.
Loki didn't even turn.
The floating weapons behind him shot forward automatically, intercepting each lance with surgical precision.
The throne room exploded in light and sparks.
When the smoke cleared—
Loki still stood exactly where he had been.
Untouched.
He tilted his head slightly.
"You're fast. Coordinated and efficient."
He pointed one blade toward Saare.
"But you're assuming we're in the same category."
In the next instant—
He vanished.
Garde barely reacted in time, raising his spear to block—
CLANG.
The impact shattered the marble beneath his feet.
The shockwave blasted outward, ripping apart nearby pillars.
Garde's arms screamed from the force.
'Too heavy—!'
Loki leaned closer, smiling mildly.
"You rely too much on reinforcement through holy output."
His blade slid along Garde's spear, sparks dancing.
"Your base physical strength is lacking."
He twisted.
Garde was launched across the throne room, smashing through a wall and skidding across the courtyard outside.
Saare attacked from behind.
A perfect angle.
A killing stroke.
Loki did not even look.
"Dismantle."
A thin invisible line shot backward.
Saare felt it a fraction of a second before impact—
He twisted desperately.
Blood sprayed.
A clean diagonal cut tore across his chest armor, slicing through holy reinforcement like paper.
He stumbled back, barely keeping his footing.
Loki turned slowly.
"Oh. Let me explain."
He raised a finger.
"Dismantle is a ranged slicing attack. Extremely fine. Extremely sharp. It cuts concepts if I want it to."
His eyes gleamed.
"I adjusted that one to only slice your armor and skin. You should be grateful."
Saare's heart pounded violently.
'He held back?'
Garde reentered through the collapsed wall, bruised but resolute.
"Do not falter, Saare!"
They charged together.
This time, they layered barriers mid-sprint.
Triple-casted holy protection.
Loki nodded approvingly.
"Better."
He allowed them to close in.
Saare's blade descended—
Garde's spear thrust simultaneously.
At the last possible instant—
Loki stepped between them.
"Cleave."
His left hand caught Saare's blade barehanded.
His right palm pressed lightly against Garde's chest.
For a heartbeat—
Nothing happened.
Then—
Saare's sword shattered.
Not chipped.
Not cracked.
Shattered from the point of contact.
Garde's holy armor imploded inward as if crushed by invisible jaws. He was blasted backward again, coughing blood.
Loki released Saare's broken blade and brushed dust off his sleeve.
"Cleave activates upon contact."
He smiled faintly.
"It measures the target's durability… and applies the precise amount of force required to overwhelm it."
He looked at Garde.
"I used the minimum necessary."
The throne room trembled under the weight of his aura.
Saare's breathing grew ragged.
'This isn't a Demon Lord Seed…'
Loki's eyes shifted toward the kneeling king.
"You're quiet, King Tedron."
Tedron was shaking uncontrollably.
"What… what are you…?"
Loki hummed.
"Didn't you wonder why that little girl Violet's subordinates mean nothing to me?"
Violet.
Saare's mind jolted.
'Violet… the purple Primordial. Di he just call a Primordial a little girl.…'
Loki continued casually.
"Archdemons and demon Lords. Those are classifications that were created later."
He walked slowly across the ruined hall.
"I existed before that system."
Silence fell.
Garde's eyes widened.
"…Before…?"
Loki's smile sharpened.
"There are levels to demonkind."
His aura deepened.
The air thickened.
Breathing became difficult.
"Those born from fear and darkness in later eras."
He took another step.
"And those born at the very beginning."
The pressure doubled.
The throne room floor cracked entirely.
Tedron felt warmth spread down his legs.
He looked down.
And realized—
He had lost control.
A wet stain spread beneath him.
'Primordial…?'
Saare's memories resurfaced.
The Saints' briefing.
A demon with overwhelming presence.
Ancient.
Maroon eyes.
Unfathomable strength.
A being not to be engaged under any circumstances.
His pupils trembled.
"…It can't be…"
Loki's eyes locked onto his.
"You've been hunting one of us, haven't you?"
The horns on his head seemed darker now.
More real.
"Tell me, Holy Knight."
His smile widened.
"Which color were you looking for?"
Saare saw it clearly now.
The aura.
The density.
The absolute control.
Not a rising demon.
Not a seed.
An origin.
Fear seeped into his bones.
"…Primordial…"
Garde's grip on his spear weakened.
"…He's one of the originals…"
Loki laughed softly.
"Good."
In an instant—
He appeared before them both.
No sound.
No buildup.
He tapped Saare's forehead lightly with a finger.
"You were brave."
He tapped Garde's spear and it disintegrated.
"You were loyal."
He stepped back.
"But you never stood a chance."
The entire throne room collapsed inward from the residual pressure of his aura alone.
Dust and rubble rained down.
When it settled—
Saare and Garde lay embedded in the cracked marble floor.
Conscious and alive
But utterly defeated.
Loki stood above them, weapons dissolving into particles of black light.
He exhaled softly.
"I told you."
His golden eyes were calm.
"There are levels to this. Me and you two exist on two very different planes of existence."
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