On the other side of the battlefield, Az·Daka'ha stared at the figure before him—at the man whose aura had undergone a complete and overwhelming transformation—and for the first time, his expression faltered.
But the moment he grasped what had changed within Ren Kuroda, a trace of amusement curled across his lips.
That was why he had allowed Izayoi and the others to withdraw without interference.
Compared to them, he had found something far more interesting.
A far more worthy opponent.
"How astonishing," Az·Daka'ha murmured, his draconic gaze narrowing. "To think that you, a being half human, would carry the same essence as I do—the essence of a Humanity's Final Trial. Tell me… what exactly does the Final Trial you bear represent?"
The so-called Humanity's Final Trial was, in essence, the embodiment of obstacles or dilemmas humanity had yet to overcome.
The "Demon King of the White Night" born from geocentrism.The dystopian "Closed World."And now, standing before Ren—Absolute Evil itself, Az·Daka'ha.
Az·Daka'ha's existence as a Final Trial was deeply intertwined with the concept of the Third Perpetual Motion Engine. Its theoretical completion had summoned planetary annihilation weapons and tyranny—manifestations of "Absolute Evil."
His signature Gift, the Halo of the Conqueror, held the power to obliterate one-third of the world—symbolizing a weapon capable of mass destruction on an unimaginable scale.
Whether tyranny or doomsday weaponry, the inevitable consequence was always the same:
War.
That was the Final Trial he represented.
The justice of "evil" lay in serving as the final summit every hero must ascend—offering the corpse of transcended evil as tribute to "the victory of justice."
Ren's lips curved faintly.
"As Humanity's Final Trials, our natures are surprisingly similar," he said evenly. "Your existence is bound to the Third Perpetual Motion Engine—but that fantasy of endless energy without cost was born from human greed."
"People desire infinite power without paying the price."
He lifted his gaze.
"And greed is merely one of the nutrients that feed what I represent."
"You embody humanity's Absolute Evil."
"But what I embody… is humanity's Ultimate Evil."
"No matter how vile the deed, its root lies in human negativity—rage, envy, resentment, hatred."
"And what I represent is the most fundamental and purest culmination of all that negativity."
When Az·Daka'ha heard this, even he fell momentarily silent.
If Ren spoke the truth… then his Final Trial might become the most insurmountable trial in the history of the Little Garden.
Because anger, jealousy, greed—these were not exclusive to humans.
All living beings possessed them.
Even gods.
How could humanity hope to conquer a trial rooted in the very foundation of emotion itself?
Even saints could not truly purge desire.
To ascend beyond such a trial?
An impossible dream.
Yes—Ren Kuroda had once again risen from Demon King to Humanity's Final Trial.
How ironic.
He had only ever wanted to be a hero.
Instead, he'd unwillingly become a villainous Demon King.
And now?
Now he had ascended into something far worse.
A true Final Trial.
Just as he had predicted, the Gift known as "All the Evil of This World" had not robbed him of his sanity after becoming a Blessing within the Little Garden.
But it had transformed him into a Final Trial.
And by the laws of the Little Garden, he would instinctively impose trials upon humans within his territory until someone capable of overcoming him appeared—just like Az·Daka'ha.
That was why Ren had ordered Izayoi and the others to leave.
If they remained, they wouldn't just face Absolute Evil.
They would face two Final Trials.
Az·Daka'ha.
And Ren Kuroda—the Ultimate Evil.
Even if Ren intended to destroy Az·Daka'ha, the rules dictated that if humans were present, he would be compelled to challenge them first.
Now that they had left the region—
He could finally fight without restraint.
After all…
Nowhere in the rules did it say that Final Trials couldn't fight each other.
—
After becoming a Final Trial, Ren's appearance had not changed dramatically.
But if one had to describe the difference—
Everything except his skin had turned black.
His chestnut hair had deepened into a midnight cascade that flowed to his waist. His eyes had lost their whites and pupils entirely—now twin voids of pure darkness.
His clothing had transformed into a long black robe, and droplets of inky mud floated and revolved around him like orbiting satellites.
The malice and ill omen radiating from his body made him look every bit the archetypal final boss—refined, composed, terrifying.
"Fūrinkazan Style—First Form."
"Swift as the Wind—Breaking Army's Pride!"
Having been reborn, Ren understood something essential:
If you're going to be a proper villain—
Be ruthless.Speak less.
Az·Daka'ha had been preparing for another exchange of grandiose declarations before commencing battle.
Instead—
Ren moved.
His hand formed a blade, and he slashed downward through empty air.
The surrounding black mire responded instantly, surging upward as if drawn by an unseen force. It condensed into a jet-black gale-shaped slash that tore across the battlefield toward Az·Daka'ha.
Though it appeared casual—
Az·Daka'ha did not dare underestimate it.
He could feel it clearly.
Ren was no longer the same.
That single offhand strike rivaled the aurora pillar Izayoi and the others had unleashed earlier.
"Dragon's Afterimage."
A Gift usable only by pure-blooded dragons of the Little Garden.
The moment it activated, Az·Daka'ha's body expanded geometrically.
Power. Speed. Strength.
All amplified exponentially.
Even the shadows behind him sharpened into controllable blades.
In an instant, his body swelled to a towering hundred meters.
As the black slash expanded with the wind, growing to dozens of meters before reaching him—
Az·Daka'ha raised a single colossal claw.
And shattered it.
"ROOOOOOOAR—!"
With a thunderous roar, the enormous shadow behind him fragmented into countless shadow blades.
They fell like a torrential storm—
Raining down upon Ren from above with terrifying speed.
"Fūrinkazan Style—Fourth Form."
"Immovable as the Mountain—Gate of Sloth!"
Behind Ren rose a towering black mountain.
The descending shadow blades collided against it with the ringing clash of metal against stone.
Sparks scattered.
Each blade was deflected—
Sent ricocheting away in every direction.
And at the center of it all—
Ren Kuroda stood unmoving.
Like the calm eye of a storm.
Like the incarnation of evil awaiting judgment.
The true battle between Final Trials had begun.