The Iudex's office.
Neuvillette, who was reviewing documents, suddenly jerked his pen, leaving a long ink streak across the expensive official paper.
He looked up toward the direction of the sound outside the window, his blue eyes filled with solemnity—and even fear!
Mr. King's "declaration of battle" this time was completely different from the one at the Tribunal!
If the last time felt like a warning that threatened his life, then this time, what he felt... was a despairing gap in power!
He couldn't even muster the will to resist!
It was like an ant looking up at the starry sky, or a mayfly facing the vast ocean!
"To make my incomplete self feel this way..."
Neuvillette slowly put down his pen, his fingers tightening slightly. "This has already completely exceeded the realm of the 'mortal world'!"
"Who on earth is he fighting?!"
Clorinde was doing his morning exercises at the training grounds. The moment he heard the sound, the training sword in his hand fell to the ground with a "clang." He gasped for air, cold sweat drenching his forehead, yet his cheeks flushed uncontrollably. In his eyes, besides fear, there was an indescribable heat.
That sound... is it him?!
So strong, truly so strong!
...The entire Fontaine, from the high and mighty gods and judges to the common people on the streets, was completely dominated at this moment by the "emperor engine" that felt like a descending natural disaster, falling into immense shock and fear.
And this terrifying heartbeat that swept through the city for ten full seconds was merely a slight "side effect" unconsciously triggered when King fused with his S-rank Talent.
Fusion complete.
The pain of fusion came quickly and left just as fast.
In just a dozen seconds, the agonizing pain of the transformation receded like the tide.
In its place was an unprecedented sense of power, so full it felt like it would explode!
King slowly lowered his head and looked at his hands.
The skin on his palms didn't seem to have changed; it was still human skin. But when he clenched his fists slightly, he could feel the muscle bundles beneath—woven like billions of ultra-high-strength alloy fibers—writhing slightly, containing terrifying power capable of tearing the earth and crushing mountains!
His body's density had reached an inconceivable level; he even felt the ground beneath him groaning slightly under the weight.
The force-exertion techniques of the Explosive Heart Release Fist remained clear, but the "engine" driving those techniques had been upgraded from a second-hand car to an interstellar warship!
Explosive Heart Release Fist (S-rank)!!
This was power!
Unrivaled power!
Power enough to control one's own destiny, and even the destiny of others!
King slowly raised his head, casting his gaze back toward Tartaglia.
Now that he possessed power, looking at Tartaglia's Burning fighting spirit felt completely different.
This time, King didn't feel the slightest bit of panic!
He was even a little "afraid."
Afraid that, having just mastered such immense power, he might accidentally kill Tartaglia with a single punch.
Killing Tartaglia alone would be one thing, but what if he harmed innocents?
The weak one still existed, but—the tables had turned!
The corner of King's mouth twitched upward.
It didn't look like joy; it looked more like a sense of relief.
Yet this subtle change in expression, in Tartaglia's eyes, became the ultimate form of contempt and provocation!
The expression seemed to say: "Challenging me? Reckless."
Tartaglia laughed in extreme anger. He cracked his knuckles loudly and twisted his neck from side to side, making a "click-clack" sound, the fire in his eyes almost bursting out.
"Interesting... how very interesting!"
"You truly didn't disappoint me!"
"Was that burst of power just a warm-up?"
"Or perhaps..."
"Because you are too invincible and couldn't find an opponent, you sealed away a portion of your power?"
"Hahaha!"
"Whichever it is, I am deeply honored!"
"Let's begin!"
"A blood-boiling battle!!"
Tartaglia moved first.
His movements were as fast as a phantom, his orange figure leaving an afterimage in the narrow shop as he instantly crossed the short three-meter distance to King.
He used no weapon, just a simple and direct jab that tore through the air with a sharp boom, aiming straight for King's face!
This punch held nothing back; it was enough to pierce rock and shatter steel, a killing technique forged in countless life-and-death struggles.
However—
King didn't even move his feet.
He just stood there calmly, watching the rapidly approaching fist. Then, at the moment the fist was about to touch the tip of his nose, he raised his right hand.
His index and middle fingers were pressed together.
"Bang."
A dull thud, like metal being lightly struck.
Tartaglia's heavy punch, capable of splitting mountains and cracking stones, simply stopped in mid-air.
His fist was lightly held back by the tips of King's two fingers.
Yes, held back.
Not caught, but just casually touched with the pads of two fingers against Tartaglia's fist.
The excitement on Tartaglia's face instantly froze, his pupils shrinking to the size of pinheads.
He could feel the immense force gathered in his fist vanish without a trace, like a clay ox entering the sea.
A counter-shock traveled up his arm, making his arm bones feel faintly numb!
"Impressive, but..."
"It's not over yet!!"
Tartaglia roared, his left leg sweeping toward King's ribs like a steel whip, even faster and from a more cunning angle!
King turned his body slightly and raised his left hand again.
Once more, it was just his index and middle fingers pressed together.
"Slap."
His fingertips lightly tapped, precisely meeting Tartaglia's whistling whip kick.
Another soft sound.
Tartaglia felt as if he had kicked a solid mountain of metal. The counter-force made his shinbone groan under the strain, and a sharp pain shot through him!
"Hah!"
Tartaglia used the momentum to flip backward and create distance. He stumbled slightly upon landing, his expression becoming incredibly solemn.
He shook his numb arm and stinging leg. The fighting spirit in his eyes, instead of fading, burned even more frantically!
"Interesting... how very interesting!"
Tartaglia licked his lips, blue light flashing in his eyes: "It seems I can't hold back anymore!"
Hydro Element power rapidly gathered and condensed in his hands, forming two blue water blades that shimmered with a cold light.
With the twin blades in hand, Tartaglia's aura suddenly surged again, his dangerousness increasing by more than a level!
"Watch closely! This is what I'm best at—"
Before he could finish, his figure vanished once more.
This time, it was a flurry of sharp, water-colored blade flashes!
Tartaglia's figure became a blurred blue storm within the small shop. The blade flashes were like a net, covering King from all directions and sealing off all space for evasion. Each flash contained the sharpness of cutting water and a continuous follow-through force, enough to easily tear heavy armor to shreds!
Facing this airtight net of blades, King finally moved—he took a step forward.
Just one step.
Then, he raised his right hand.
It was still those same two fingers.
"Clang clang clang clang clang clang clang—!!!"
A series of rapid, crisp, and dense impacts, sounding like heavy rain hitting banana leaves, echoed throughout the shop!
King stood where he was, his right hand becoming an afterimage nearly invisible to the naked eye.
His two fingers seemed to possess their own life and will, precisely tapping time and again on the weakest and most critical force nodes of the overwhelming blade flashes!
With every light tap, a sharp blade flash shattered, turning into scattered splashes of water.
Using only two fingers, he constructed an airtight "finger wall," blocking all of Tartaglia's storm-like attacks a foot away from his body!
Paimon covered his eyes with his small hands, yet couldn't help peeking through the gaps between his fingers, his small mouth forming an "O" shape.
Lyney and Lynette were slumped on the ground, completely dumbfounded, their minds blank.
Lilith even forgot to cry, staring blankly at this fight that surpassed her understanding—if it could even be called a fight.
The more Tartaglia fought, the more alarmed and frustrated he became!
His attacks, no matter how cunning the angle, how rapid the speed, or how violent the power, appeared so pale and weak before those two fingers! Those two fingers seemed to anticipate all his movements, always neutralizing his entire offensive with the smallest range of motion and the least effort!
In his eyes, King was relaxed, casual, and even... a bit disappointed.
This wasn't a fight at all!
This was simply... play!