And on the other side, along the path between the trees… several hours later.
Lankaten and Klantin were standing in front of those terrifying individuals from the Cathedral of 'Nelk'rathen'…
Klantin approached a large man, glaring at him angrily and speaking in a sharp tone:
"And you think you're terrifying with that pathetic threat of yours?"
The large man moved his hand at a terrifying speed, so fast that the trees were cut down by the sheer force of it. He struck Klantin, destroying half the trees.
The man then rushed forward with insane speed to chase Klantin. Meanwhile, on the other side, Lankaten remained extremely calm as he looked toward the girl.
"You seem calm? Looks like you don't care about your friend," the girl said quietly, glancing to the left in the direction Klantin had flown.
"My friend?" Lankaten replied in a strange, unsettling tone. He then continued:
"I don't care. And since we're alone, fighting will be a good thing."
The girl's expression changed as she looked at Lankaten's aura in surprise, mumbling softly:
'His aura has changed… his killing intent is so terrifying, it feels like my head isn't in place.'
"I won't fight a filthy whore like you. My soldier will do that." Lankaten smiled widely, his grin stretching across his face, as he waved his card in the air.
It was the Phantom Card Three belonging to Lankaten. The drawing on it was bizarre: a person standing in the background watching a group fighting a monster seated on a throne and laughing.
Lankaten placed the card on the ground, laughing in a crazed tone that made the girl step back in concern. Black shadows moved across the ground until a soldier emerged — with long black hair, wearing a damaged armor etched with strange markings, and wielding an ordinary-looking sword that emitted a strange aura.
The soldier spoke in a sharp tone as he knelt before Lankaten:
"My king, what do you wish me to do?"
Lankaten conjured a throne made of leaves from the earth and sat upon it. He spoke while smiling, though his mouth never moved:
"Bring me her head. That's all I want. Is that clear?"
The soldier turned, looking at the mysterious girl, who was a little afraid but still responded in a sharp and strong tone, revealing ten claws from the gloves she wore:
"I am Andrea from the Cathedral of 'Nelk'rathen.' I will crush your pride — and your soldier's too."
The soldier suddenly appeared in front of her, placing his five fingers on her chest, preparing for a terrifying attack. He released a horrifying wave that sent Andrea crashing into a cluster of trees. She planted her claws into a tree to keep her balance.
The soldier walked slowly toward her, speaking in a chilling tone:
"I don't want words — I want actions. I could even crush my master if I wanted."
Meanwhile, Klantin was lying on the ground in a circular arena-like place, with extremely tall pillars connected to a broken sky and dismembered corpses. Blood fell like scattered raindrops.
Klantin got up, holding his head, and looked directly at the large man leaning against the gate of that circular place.
"You seem very weak, young man. Why not just surrender and go back to where you came from?" the large man said harshly.
Klantin brushed his hair back, rage covering his face, and spoke in a sharp tone that tore at his lips:
"I was assigned a specific mission. I won't return until it's complete."
The large man's expression changed to one of respect. He stepped closer to Klantin, leaving a short distance between them, standing in a strange pose — one hand forward and the other behind. He smiled slightly and said:
"You seem to have strong resolve. I like that — it makes fighting more fun. I am Shawkin. I will make your death legendary."
Klantin placed his Phantom Card into the four holes on his glove and summoned the flaming axe, smiling as he said:
"You're going to die a filthy death."
Shawkin smiled lightly and replied:
"Amen."
He attacked at a terrifying speed that Klantin couldn't even comprehend. Shawkin struck Klantin on the neck, sending him crashing into a wall. The wall didn't break or even crack, because it was made from the ground of the past.
'What is this terrifying weight behind his strike?' Klantin muttered.
Shawkin kicked again, but Klantin dodged and fired a bullet at him. Shawkin caught the bullet with his hand and crushed it.
Klantin was shocked. Shawkin appeared behind him and tried to pierce his chest, but Klantin countered by striking Shawkin's chest with force, forcing him back, then swung his flaming axe at Shawkin's hand, causing light burns.
"That's nice. You've got some good moves… but you're lacking in intelligence."
Shawkin kicked from afar, releasing a wave that Klantin didn't even see before it hit him, tearing the upper part of his clothes.
Reacting quickly, Klantin swung the flaming axe and released a fast whirlwind toward Shawkin. Shawkin stood still, smiling. He extended his hand forward and clapped powerfully, extinguishing the firestorm with a terrifying wave.
"Quick move, but you need focus. Amen."
Klantin charged angrily at Shawkin and landed a heavy blow to his stomach with the flaming axe, causing a very deep wound. But Shawkin grabbed Klantin's hand and broke it.
Slowly, Shawkin began striking Klantin's stomach repeatedly, then lifted him into the air and slammed him hard into the ground.
Shawkin landed and walked calmly toward Klantin.
"What's the point of fighting me? Nothing. You're going to die stupidly for absolutely nothing," he said with deep pity.
Klantin was wrecked from the beating he received from Shawkin, who was like a terrifying tank.
Klantin spat blood onto Shawkin's face while laughing and said:
"I don't care what you think. I can get up and crush you."
"Just nonsense. You won't be able to—"
Before Shawkin could finish his sentence, Klantin moved the flaming axe at lightning speed, breaking Shawkin's leg and leaving a deep gash. Klantin then fired a bullet straight at his heart.
Shawkin was stunned by the sudden ambush. Klantin rose to his feet and tried to strike Shawkin's chest again, but Shawkin dodged in anger and tried to counter. Klantin suddenly appeared behind him and struck him on the back with the axe, sending him crashing into the wall.
"Heh… what do you think now? You talk too much… with no action at all," Klantin said with difficulty, one eye closed, the other still open.
Shawkin was leaning against the wall. He slowly moved his hand, pulling a cigarette from his pocket. He placed it in his mouth and lit it with just a snap of his fingers.
He stood calmly, brushing the dirt off his clothes. Klentin could feel Shawkin's aura beginning to change.
'What's happening now? How is this monster able to stand after those blows?' Klentin spoke in a low voice.
"A wise man once said, hunger and thirst show no mercy to man. They are a form of execution—but in slow motion. Now, I shall become hunger and thirst… and make you die a painfully slow death," Shawkin spoke with a sharp tone, smoking the cigarette with eerie calm.
He placed his right hand on his scratched eye and pulled out a long, transparent sword—its blade sharp and jagged.
Shawkin gripped the blade with his right hand, speaking quietly:
"I didn't want to torture you with my fists. I wanted to try my special sword on you… since you seem worthy of that."
In a terrifying and sudden moment, Shawkin moved so fast that the air itself didn't register the motion. He appeared in front of Klentin and swung a horrifying slash—but Klentin raised his axe and blocked the strike.
Shawkin vanished and reappeared behind Klentin, striking his back hard enough to slam him into the wall. Then he stabbed him with a powerful thrust, making blood gush from his chest like a waterfall.
He grabbed Klentin's hair and smashed him to the ground. As he prepared to stab him again, Klentin caught the sword with both hands, growling in fury.
'This cursed sword… it only becomes visible when it's swung or in contact. Otherwise, it stays transparent,' Klentin muttered to himself, clutching the blade with his bare hands.
"To grab your enemy's blade and roar with rage… I'm truly impressed by your willpower," Shawkin spoke with chilling calm.
Shawkin yanked the sword back, slicing off four of Klentin's fingers. Klentin stood and struck Shawkin's neck with tremendous force, nearly slamming him into the wall—but Shawkin placed his sword against it to avoid impact.
Klentin, like a madman, struck Shawkin's back so hard he crashed into the wall. But the terrifying part was that Shawkin was still gripping Klentin's neck, even after taking such a devastating blow.
Klentin kept punching Shawkin's hand furiously, to the point that bone started to show—but Shawkin, like a beast, didn't care at all.
"A swift and solid hit… but it won't help you with me… Amen." After uttering "Amen" with a sharp tone, Shawkin smashed Klentin into the ground repeatedly, breaking his right arm. Then, he threw him into the wall again.
Klentin's arm and leg were broken from the relentless heavy blows. His nose and mouth bled profusely.
Shawkin approached Klentin in his miserable state. He struck Klentin's stomach hard, making him vomit blood. Then, without hesitation, he placed the sword on his right arm and sliced it off.
"You truly were a noble hunter… but in this world, there are those who can destroy you," Shawkin said calmly, pulling the cigarette from his mouth.
He placed the sword on Klentin's head and raised it to finish him—but suddenly stopped. Shawkin closed his eyes.
He returned the sword to his eye and spoke with a smile:
"It seems our Lord commands us to return to the Clown's Graveyard to witness a grand battle. So now, brave hunter, your death will come… later. Amen."
And with that, Shawkin moved like a ghost and vanished from the place. Klentin, physically destroyed, gritted his bloodied lips and said:
"Next time… you won't see the crimson moon ever again, you filthy heretic."