[O King of Steel, please awaken from your long slumber!]
Outside the ritual, Buddha Dīpaṁkara chanted the incantation loudly.
Accompanied by the chant, countless lights converged toward the ritual's center. The Longinus Spear—previously flowing with the Holy Son's blood—was bathed, melted, and reforged by the innumerable lights.
Finally, it formed a beautiful sword embedded in the altar's center—the Sword in the Stone, which no one could draw.
This was the Divine Sword of Salvation (Little Garden version), its current true name Excalibur—meaning Holy Sword of the Star.
"According to Thousand Eyes' information, the Divine Sword of Salvation is King of the End's main body. Next, it only needs to be doused with highly concentrated Spiritual Energy."
Buddha Dīpaṁkara raised one hand before his chest, slightly bowed toward the Divine Sword of Salvation, then turned and spoke to the Holy Son—or rather, the God Slayer Messiah—holding the Holy Grail.
"Your Excellency, this little monk will take his leave now."
Buddha Dīpaṁkara knew well—what came next wasn't something he could interfere with. The battle between the Holy Son's incarnation and King of the End.
Though this Holy Son incarnation hadn't even reached Four-Digit, and the current King of the End was at best elite Four-Digit level.
That didn't mean he—this fake—could join in. He might not even withstand the shockwaves.
"No—stay here."
Messiah turned, staring at Buddha Dīpaṁkara, speaking firmly.
Buddha Dīpaṁkara sighed, shaking his head helplessly. Indeed, his fate was to keep toiling.
But since it was this Holy Son's request—he couldn't refuse.
He could only bow slightly toward Messiah.
"Yes, Your Excellency."
Then, Messiah stepped back several paces, yielding the awakening altar to Buddha Dīpaṁkara.
Buddha Dīpaṁkara sighed, took the Holy Grail, tilted it—pouring the bright red liquid inside.
All of it was blood drawn by Messiah. Under the Holy Grail's nourishment, it had become highly concentrated energy fluid—accelerating King of the End's awakening and recovery.
Enabling peak condition as quickly as possible—then he could kill him.
Additionally, the fluid was filled with Messiah's unique god pollution. Both Messiah and King of the End were Saviors.
Thus, he could use god pollution to restrict part of King of the End's power.
The bright red blood-like fluid flowed from the golden Holy Grail, drenching the golden beautiful Holy Sword—adding a touch of blood color to it.
And with the blood color's appearance, a shadowy figure emerged.
A man with golden hair and extremely handsome appearance. He had a lazy yet confident aura, wearing pale silver armor, standing beside the Holy Sword.
He looked at Messiah several steps away, mouth corners smiling.
"Didn't expect to wake this early? You woke me?"
"Seems you might not know—I'm a bit sensitive when woken?"
Aslan single-handedly drew the firmly embedded Sword in the Stone from the altar, pointing it at the distant Holy Son, and shouted.
"Excalibur!!!"
The highest etiquette in Savior meetings was face-washing with a beam.
Only those who could withstand a beam could be called Aslan's opponent.
Pure energy flow carrying infinite light and heat surged toward Messiah.
In this extraordinary situation, nearly all directions Messiah could dodge or escape were locked by the beam.
Forcing him to directly use his Authority to confront Aslan's released beam.
At this critical moment, a crown of thorns—unknown since when—appeared above Messiah's head.
It was the Crown of Thorns. Legend said when Jesus was crucified, Roman soldiers wove a thorn crown and placed it on his head.
Symbolizing the suffering he bore for humanity.
This Authority's manifestation was returning damage to the attacker when struck.
"The Lord at your right hand will shatter kings on the day of His wrath."
When the attack returned to Aslan, tiny unseen fragments appeared before him.
Forming what could be called absolute defense in front of Aslan—blocking all returned attacks.
Even reflecting some back.
The situation instantly became truly awkward.
Only a beam of light remained, gradually fading, bouncing back and forth between Aslan and Messiah.
Ultimately, neither was injured—not even dusted.
The only price paid was the surrounding ground bearing the shockwaves between Aslan and Messiah.
The originally prepared altar had long vanished—leaving countless craters and partially vitrified soil from high-temperature corrosion.
"Tch—no effect?"
Aslan clicked his tongue irritably. He'd hoped to kill Messiah upon appearance.
Directly unleashing his big move—killing Messiah in one strike.
But it seemed difficult now.
"Looks like a tough fight ahead."
Aslan sighed, then looked at Messiah across from him.
Just using abilities from Arthur and King of the End Spirit Status—without his mastered Displacement Magecraft and spatial operations—defeating this old-timer.
Still a bit challenging.
Especially now—Aslan and Messiah hadn't truly fought yet, but already knew the other was a tough opponent.
Neither could breach the other's defense.
"How about we both drop defenses and fight like real men?"
Aslan set down the Holy Star Sword, looking at Messiah, asking probingly.
How to fight if both wore turtle shells?
Messiah paused, staring—as if stating his intent.
(Who'd trust you? The first to drop defense suffers most.)
Aslan raised an eyebrow. Invisible Air wrapped the Holy Star Sword in his hand—hiding the blade's form.
"Fine—seems we can only keep fighting with turtle shells."
Unnoticed, the Holy Star Sword in his hand had been replaced by a spear shining like sunlight.
"Careful—this move isn't easy to block."
Aslan suddenly thrust forward—stabbing toward Messiah.
Messiah unconsciously dodged right. The inevitably hitting, inevitably winning Gáe Bolg locked him—stabbing toward his heart.
But unfortunately, it was blocked by the Crown of Thorns on his head. The divine spear's tip stabbed as if hitting unimaginable hardness.
And shattered bit by bit.
"Something wrong?"
The stabbed Messiah quickly realized something off with his condition. He raised his head—shocked to see his Crown of Thorns somehow damaged.
"You noticed?"
Aslan sneered, summoning Gungnir again—the eternal spear used by Odin in Norse mythology.
"This spear will definitely pierce the Crown of Thorns before me."
*SWOOSH!*
The sound of pierced air rang—a white light flashed.
Then, the spear pierced the Crown of Thorns.
But the effect wasn't great. Only slight damage to the Crown—then shattered by the counterattack.
It could only be said—this was indeed a carefully chosen Authority by the Holy Son. Its effects were no joke.
"However, Holy Son—how many more times can you endure?"
Aslan pocketed both hands. Countless golden lights surged behind him. Artifact weapons recorded in Celtic, Norse, and other mythologies under Queen Halloween slowly emerged.
Aiming at Messiah like projectiles.
Indeed—Gilgamesh's weapon usage was most comfortable.
Gate of Babylon: Divine Sword of Salvation version!!
Aslan lightly waved.
*SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!*
*SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!* *SWOOSH!*
Countless artifacts shot toward Messiah—as if cost-free!
"You remind me of a shameless kid."
Messiah sneered, stomping— a giant cross shadow appearing behind him.
This was the primary Authority he prepared for himself.
Time was too short. Heretic Gods he killed weren't many.
All obtained Authorities came from Christian angels and the Heretic God Jesus he incarnated.
"If former Pope Artorius had one-tenth the shamelessness of you and that kid—he wouldn't have died in the Dystopia War."
As Messiah finished, countless holy lights released—destroying all Aslan's artifacts in one strike.
In this process, Aslan wasn't surprised at all.
He showed a bright smile—lightly brushing away the hymns ringing with the holy light and falling feathers.
"Thank you for the compliment. After all, the noble die repeatedly in wars. Aren't the survivors shameless ones like us?"
"Don't you think, Judas—who betrayed the Holy Son?"
With Aslan's words, space fell silent at this moment.
The holy light hymns from Messiah's summoned cross shadow vanished—feathers stopped falling.
Only boundless killing intent remained.
Messiah stared coldly—and after a while, said.
"I admit—you're as annoying as that damn guy."
One more sentence he didn't say. If not for seeing Aslan's Spirit Status, aura, and appearance truly different from Arthur—he'd almost think they were the same person.
This mouth, this shameless character, this annoying attitude—all carved from the same mold.
While speaking, he turned the shadowy Crown of Thorns on his head into an entity—wearing it.
The thorns pierced his skin—bright red blood flowing from his head.
Aslan vaguely felt his head stabbed by thorns—but Avalon blocked this attack for him.
Causing him no damage.