Commander Oryn made his move first. He reduced the size of his armor to make an extra hand and then he was at Galthor again, his punch coming down as fast as the wind.

Galthor knew he couldn't take much more damage again, but at the same time, he needed to get his hands on Commander Oryn.

His stone bullet was an impulsive technique and not something he'd practiced before. He had no suitable long-range attack and frankly, the wind-covered bastard was faster than him.

And yet, he couldn't let Commander Oryn take more than one or two hits at him.

So when the Commander shouted, jumped forward, and punched, Galthor relaxed his body, gritted his teeth, and painfully, intentionally lowered his defense.

His hands were a little spread, giving the Commander the chance to strike directly against his chest.

Time slowed.

Every instinct in his body screamed at him to defend himself and to get away. His body shouted that it was still healing from the punch from before and he shouldn't get hit again.

Those in the stands watching, some of them that could still follow the flow of things, cheered as they watched what was to be the end of the arrogant barbarian.

But some of them were worried. The Jaded Lord tightened his fist, and his expressionless eyes showed anger now. He dropped a whisper. "No."

Karathra narrowed her eyes. "Really?"

Casper and Skolvar were shocked. "No... no... no... don't fall for that!"

But the two fighting down in the pit were isolated from all of this. Galthor wasn't even watching the attack that was coming at him. He didn't even try to sense it. His eyes were blank, but his mind was working faster than usual.

The punch hit like a speeding bus, but much worse than the first one, as this one hit him directly in the chest. One, or maybe two, of his ribs cracked.

Pain flared, much worse than before.

But none of that distracted Galthor. The instant the punch touched him and his body began to lift backward, his two hands snapped forward with the speed of some clawed monster catching its prey.

Crack!

The hand shattered from the force. The forceful wind shockwave batted his face, but Galthor already got his wish because his hand had now touched the flesh and blood hand of Commander Oryn.

Crack! Crack! Crunch!

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Commander Oryn screamed.

Galthor didn't wait and instantly crushed the hand, twisting it at the wrong angle that somehow caused bloody bone splinters to punch through flesh.

He drew the Commander closer, and with his remaining Divine aura focused on his hands instead of spreading to heal his external and internal injuries, he tore the armor apart from the inside.

"No! No! Wait... I am the Commander... ahhhhhhhhh!"

Galthor took one of his wings and tore it out of his shoulder along with some bloody bones of the left shoulder. Then his hand clamped tight on his throat. He growled. "Any last words?"

Galthor had already decided not to give the man a dignified death since he made that slur about barbarians being slaves. Oryn wasn't wrong, but he didn't have to like it either.

Oryn clawed at the hand holding his throat, his eyes bloodshot, and it appeared that he had a lot to say.

Galthor smiled. "A shame. But it'll have to die with you. No final words for people like you."

His other hand went to the back of his head, and he twisted it until there were no bones holding the neck and head together.

Galthor frowned and then tore the flesh away as well, separating the head completely in a spray of blood. "This is the divine world. I must make sure they're dead. Who knew what trick is up here?"

It was only then that he stood straight and took a look at himself, ignoring the others who stood shocked and still.

The bones of his hands were still causing pain. Two ribs were cracked, and his insides weren't as firm as before. But nothing serious that a long rest and a full core wouldn't heal.

At the same time, he couldn't help but marvel at the power of this Commander Oryn. If Galthor hadn't formerly reached the ranks of lesser spirits, then he would surely be dead.

'...legacy are no joke if they can give this much power to share. How much of the legacy does Jaded Lord Serion Caelus have? I know he's much stronger than me, but this fight just made me reevaluate how strong he is...'

It was only after Galthor examined himself and let the remaining little divine aura work for healing that he finally looked up at those at the edge watching.

There were varying degrees of expression. Most were shocked, all the Winged people appearing as if they couldn't quite believe what their eyes were seeing.

Some looked sick, as if their perception of the world had been tampered with. The Jaded Lord on his throne crushed the arm of his seat as he clenched his fist. Out of everyone, he was the one most shocked, and that was because he knew how strong his first Commander was.

Galthor watched all this, but what brought him the most satisfaction wasn't the shocked expression of everyone, but the underlying fear he could feel coming from them. It made him smile and his eyes glow.

He looked up at Karathra. "Come down here, Karathra. Bring that one with you. I will keep my promise now."

Before any of the barbarians could react, she had already blurred forward, gripped Skolvar, and the two of them tumbled down the pit like falling stones.

They hit with a crash, and Karathra quickly disengaged from him and came to stand before Galthor once more. She bowed to him. "I didn't know you were that strong."

Galthor shrugged. "Simply a miracle."

Her eyes widened, and with that simple word, and because she was a warrior who valued strength above all, the bond toward Galthor increased.

Galthor felt more satisfaction because it wasn't only her; unknowingly on their part, the other barbarians above were trying to see him as more.

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