Chapter 906: The Sword in the Stone, Twin Sovereigns
Beep-beep, beep-beep, beep-beep.
A sharp, rapid sequence of chimes echoed through the room. Reaching into her crimson handbag, Youyou pulled out a retro black pager. In an era dominated by hyper-advanced tech and neural networks, relying on such an antiquated device meant one thing: it harbored specialized operational parameters.
On the tiny liquid-crystal screen, a single line of text flashed:
[Traitor in our midst. Cease the trade.]
Youyou's brow knitted tight. The pager was an asset originating from the Infinite Space: though single-purpose and capable of transmitting only unadorned text, it bypassed the vast majority of magical wards and barrier arrays. Furthermore, it possessed near-absolute resistance against hyper-tech interception—a niche yet invaluable channel.
Her contact went by the codename Unharmed, a core executive of the Golden Order whose combat mass was formidable, widely regarded as the right-hand operative of Lady Providence herself.
Having identified exceptional potential in Youyou, he frequently funneled intelligence and strategic resources her way.
Youyou understood the subtext immediately. The message read like a running joke, yet the underlying reality was chilling: The Erdtree is compromised. Do not return.
Connecting this warning to the razor-sharp tension choking the Space, the truth fell into place.
Turning toward Madara Uchiha, who had changed into civilian attire, she whispered:
"Lord Madara... The war... has begun."
"Aaargh!"
Amidst agonizing wails, the protective barrier shattered like cheap glass as the sacred crest of the Golden Order guttered out. Draped in radiant, blinding holy light, Sacred Husk stood untouched, shrugging off the dense barrages of Glintstone sorcery without flinching.
Sustaining calculated damage triggered the kinetic and defensive multipliers of his Martyr's Physique, accelerating his Holy Power, self-regeneration, and conceptual immortality in lockstep.
A combat engine that grew fiercer the longer blood was drawn.
Backed by the divine-demonic multipliers of the Nephalem lineage, Sacred Husk wielded crushing superiority against mid-to-high-tier Reincarnators.
"Leave the Erdtree's trunk untouched. Put down all resisting elements along the path and push the vanguard straight through the northern border of Eastern Xia," Sacred Husk commanded. His heavy white mantle whipped in the sub-zero gale as the towering golden silhouette of the Erdtree swayed in the distance.
Golden spores drifted quietly through the air. The operatives he had felled were not permanently extinguished; their astral forms dissolved into pure light, funneled back toward the roots.
Across the mortal plane, this mechanic of Returning to the Tree operated without friction: throughout the globe, fallen champions of the Golden Order were reconstituted beneath the boughs of the Erdtree.
This exact systemic respawn had allowed the Golden Order to rapidly ascend as the Fifth Pillar—ranking directly beneath the Throne of Virtual Reality, Destiny, Avalon, and Paradise.
Except...
Sacred Husk kept his gaze lowered. At its bedrock, that remained the authority of an Outer God—an alien heresy that had breached this world.
He knew that despite the tactical pact negotiated between Lady Providence and their King, Yoru would inevitably cleanse the influence of the Greater Will.
Their King cherished only pure humanity. This world held zero room for cosmic parasites.
In launching this offensive against Eastern Xia, he had bypassed direct internal teleportation, driving an overland assault from the exterior to systematically sever the claws of the Golden Order while folding the northern territories into Avalon's administrative domain.
Within that region, the memetic contagion stirred by Inner Demon had already begun triggering cursed-spirit mutations, yielding immense strategic value.
Amidst these calculations, nearly a hundred elite Reincarnators unleashed coordinated abilities, flash-melting the tundra permafrost while purging every hidden waygate and defensive nexus in their path.
In the municipal core of Yingtian City, air-raid sirens wailed, their mournful shrieks tearing through the skies of a metropolis that had barely recovered from catastrophic trauma.
Following the horrific devastation wrought during the Void Paradise incursion, Eastern Xia's high command had drilled civilian protocols relentlessly. The second the sirens sounded, the populace evacuated into subterranean sectors in disciplined order.
Subway stations across the grid had long been reinforced as subterranean fallout shelters.
"Eastern Xia is truly a magnificent nation. Facing existential calamities of this scale, no civilian government on Earth could manage a more cohesive response."
Green hair danced wildly in the gale as ECHO offered sincere praise.
Yet clad in a partial set of Silver Cloth, Hibari offered zero warmth, glaring at this high-ranking executive of Avalon—the fabled right hand of Emperor Yoru, a veteran of the Knights of the Round Table:
The apex Reincarnator, Musou no Itto · ECHO.
"Hmph. Dressing your invasion in honeyed words does not alter the fact that this calamity is an artificial butcher's game orchestrated by your hands."
"Is the justice of the Round Table truly this hollow?"
Hibari refused to tolerate massive structural violence waged for personal ambition—particularly when ECHO breached a dense metropolis numbering tens of millions.
Commanding the destructive mass of an apex combatant, even if he managed to best her in combat, halting her draw before the blade cleared the scabbard was borderline impossible.
And once that legendary Musou no Itto was unleashed, the city would be cleaved in two. Destructive yield of that caliber far eclipsed conventional natural disasters; it was a kinetic stroke measured on the scale of continental tectonic plates.
"To preserve the survival of this world, collateral trauma of this tier is unavoidable. Hibari, you likely fail to comprehend Yoru: the path she charts is invariably the correct one."
"If you truly style yourself as a Saint of justice, you should not be standing in my path. Aiding me in neutralizing this theater and pacifying all armed resistance across Eastern Xia is the optimal outcome for every Reincarnator—and for the world itself."
Arcs of lightning crackled across ECHO's skin. Thunderclouds gathered overhead as howling gales swept through the district, transforming Yingtian into a disaster zone within seconds.
Sheltered along the perimeter, dozens of local Reincarnators observed the standoff with grim, suffocating expressions.
These were the premier combatants of Yingtian, each holding official titles, forming formidable syndicates.
Alerted to the impending inter-district war, they had mobilized to repel Western incursions, ready to deliver a fierce counter-strike the moment Western forces appeared.
Yet to their shock, the Western deployment to Yingtian numbered a solitary operative.
And that single warrior carried enough presence to strip them of the will to draw steel.
Thank the heavens Hibari had arrived—the champion who had held the line for Yingtian had stepped onto the field once more.
"Save your grand designs. Whether Yoru or Mercenary Tao, you are all simply arrogant tyrants seeking to enforce your subjective will upon the rest of creation!"
"I shall tear both of them down!"
Flames of unadulterated fury ignited within Hibari's eyes.
These combatants who commanded apocalyptic violence possessed zero resolve to shield the fragile, yet strutted through the world imposing their mandates upon humanity:
Whether Yoru Katerina, who claimed she would unify the globe to resist external threats, or Mercenary Tao, who enforced absolute order purely through overwhelming butchery.
Two sides of the exact same coin.
Lowering his chin, Hibari exhaled a plume of white vapor, casting aside the final shred of hesitation coiled in his chest.
He felt profound self-loathing. Hours ago, he had harbored naive hopes that surrendering administrative order to a monster like Mercenary Tao was a viable compromise: at least beneath that unassailable violence, lesser demons dared not victimize common mortals.
He had tacitly accepted Tao's bloody peace.
Yet that tyrant, that monster, had vanished into thin air the second the board grew complex!
Having seized the sovereign crown of the East, he had casually abandoned the seat, leaving the order to fracture into ash.
Hibari tasted bitter regret. Justice could never be entrusted to the hands of butchers like Tao or Yoru.
To place faith in such monsters was a mortal sin!
Burn away, my sins.
Burn away, my naivety.
From this breath onward, the justice of this world shall be forged by these very hands!
Burn... My Cosmos!
BOOM!
Silver-white Cosmos flared with incandescent ferocity, wrapping Hibari's frame in roaring celestial fire, elevating his spiritual presence into a blazing beacon.
Concentric ripples of the Heartlight Soul-Pulse began expanding outward in lockstep.
Seeing the clarity burn through Hibari's eyes, ECHO ceased her counsel.
Authentic apex combatants could never be swayed by rhetoric. The foremost requirement of a sovereign warrior was an unyielding heart. Hibari had previously harbored cracks in his resolve; right now, those fissures were sealed shut.
He had become an authentic powerhouse. To claim this city for Yoru, she had to discard all reservations.
Cross blades!
CRACK!
Violet lightning detonated through the cloud cover, illuminating the ruined avenues below.
ECHO slowly lowered her stance, drawing the massive nodachi exceeding six feet down to her waist, her right hand resting loosely over the hilt.
SCHWING!
A deafening blade resonance tore through the sky—the undeniable signature of weapon mastery achieving Level 10.
Her emerald ponytail whipped in the backdraft as ripples of verdant force rolled outward in rhythmic cadence.
Like Yoru, ECHO was an apex combatant devoid of structural flaws: authorities, Heartlight Soul-Pulse, conceptual mechanics, and pinnacle weapon masteries—she commanded them all.
"Brace yourself, Hibari... Witness this draw!"
Hum—
She drew the steel with deliberate, agonizing slowness. Unlike orthodox Iaijutsu disciplines that prioritized blinding velocity, her draw was profoundly heavy, as though dragging the kinetic mass of a thousand tons through the scabbard.
Hibari's footing sank into the asphalt. His senses registered an off-the-scale metaphysical gravity: the microsecond that blade cleared the mouth of the scabbard, ECHO's existential mass breached her prior ceiling.
I cannot permit her to complete that draw!
Hibari's arms blurred through celestial katas as his constellation flared behind his spine, manifesting the towering avatar of Hercules.
Both warriors resolved to fire their ultimate lethal arts from the opening breath. In a dense metropolis, every stray exchange brought catastrophic collateral slaughter; both sought to compress the duel into a singular heartbeat.
A single strike to settle the board!
Their metaphysical ripples grazed one another, reading the other's resolve with pristine clarity.
Above the airspace of Yingtian, an unseen woman hovered within the void, dense data streams cloaking her silhouette from sensory detection arrays.
The Third Seat of Destiny, Root, processed the telemetry with cold, flashing optics:
"My King: ECHO of Avalon and the Saint of the East, Hibari, have engaged. Both are utilizing maximum-output finishers; telemetry projects a decisive single-strike resolution."
"Confirmed: this exchange is entirely authentic, devoid of coordinated misdirection."
"Understood. The moment the clash concludes, I shall execute whichever survivor remains standing, and excise Yingtian from the map."
Root delivered her report in flat, synthetic cadences.
High above the skyline of Yanjing, the wizened elder avatar of Destiny narrowed his eyes as he absorbed the transmission.
Could this war truly be devoid of collusion between Mercenary Tao and Yoru?
Destiny had observed countless peerless Reincarnators across epochs. Within an ecosystem where operatives were harvested like seasonal wheat, exceptional anomalies inevitably broke through:
Genius strategists who swiftly parsed what the Space hungered for, hoarding resources at blinding speed;
Monstrous duelists who repeatedly executed asymmetric upsets against higher-tier entities;
And blessed individuals carrying miraculous fortunes, slipping past terminal traps unblemished.
Yet the cruelty of the Space lay in forcing those singular talents into mutual slaughter, pruning them before they achieved full maturity.
Destiny had assumed Yoru and Mercenary Tao were merely exceptional specimens of that breed.
Yet both had developed with terrifying absurdity—their growth velocity and latent providence crossing unmanageable thresholds.
At times, even Destiny tasted quiet envy.
Before either had even perceived his presence, both had developed sovereign immunities against fate-based interference:
The Unnamable and the Imperial Seal of Destiny completely blinded him from observing their core cognitive pathways and true choices.
This had granted both operatives the agency to maneuver unseen beneath his nose.
And Destiny had to concede: having had his avatar pulverized by Tao's Serious Punch, the memory of that raw violence was etched deep into his core.
He had begun paying attention to Tao's maneuvers.
Whenever a deployment touched Tao, he found himself compulsively calculating multiple timelines, mapping disparate futures to mitigate exposure.
"Song Xian. Yield. Before the horizon of humanity's future... domestic patriotism must step aside."
Yoru stood composed above the Yanjing high command bunker, surrounded by over a hundred high-tier Reincarnators.
Yet she had brought none of her Round Table knights with her. She had manifested entirely alone within the sovereign core of Eastern Xia.
Turning her gaze toward the aged general shielded behind Ryo and the towering mecha, genuine appreciation flickered in her eyes.
Yoru knew that every Reincarnator on Earth understood her baseline combat mass. For a common mortal to stand within her sight meant he had long discarded all fear of death.
Beyond Mercenary Tao, no combatant alive could claim the capability to shield a fragile life before her presence.
Perhaps even Tao would fail: the old man's vitality was simply far too brittle. Before entities like herself and Tao, the raw atmospheric displacement of their unconstrained presence was enough to rupture mundane internal organs.
"General Li... No matter how you calculated the future prior to this hour, with my arrival, those timelines have collapsed."
"My scope encompasses far more than Western Europe, East Asia, or the parochial interests of any single mortal nation."
"I shall shoulder the survival of all humanity."
Yoru raised an unhurried hand, speaking with solemn, sovereign weight.
Li Tianming had heard rumors of an Empress in the West whose stature rivaled Mercenary Tao, yet this was his first time beholding her in the flesh.
The woman spoke with transparent, unyielding conviction; merely listening to her cadence pulled one's mind toward compliance.
However...
Li Tianming shook his head slowly. Eastern Xia carried its own civilizational marrow; he could never surrender the governance of his nation into the hands of an alien sovereign, regardless of how trustworthy her rhetoric rang.
Yoru lowered her gaze, parsing his refusal in an instant.
"Indeed... Without shedding blood, the world cannot be driven forward."
Her fingers closed around the hilt at her waist, slowly easing the blade from its scabbard. In that microsecond, Song Xian heard what sounded like the roaring cheers of millions echoing across the sky—as though absolute victory stood naturally at this woman's side from the beginning of time.
The Sword in the Stone?!
Curse it all... What do we do?! Paradise still hasn't responded!
Must we genuinely accept the tribute offered by Destiny?!
That creature reeked of a predatory trap!
Step... step... step.
Measured, unhurried footsteps echoed through the silence as a silhouette draped in obsidian armor stepped out from behind the Eastern Xia ranks.
"The Round Table council... is convened."
Gazing upon the woman wielding the Sword in the Stone, Artoria Pendragon spoke with ancient, unyielding gravity.