Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!-Chapter 638 - 194-We Are Not the Same

On the other side of the battlefield, after Alan's arrival, Francis finally let out a long breath of relief.

Realizing there was no time to waste on banter, he immediately spoke up with urgency. "I know exactly where Isabella is! You stay here and deal with these two. I'll go rescue her. Let's regroup at the ruin's entrance when we're done. And watch out for the one using metal-element magic… she's not like Fort."

There was a good reason Francis issued that warning.

During his earlier scuffle with the metal-element mage, something had felt… off. Deeply off.

If he had to describe it abstractly: Fort was like a slab of solid iron—hit him and you could feel the impact reverberate back.

But this metal-element mage? She was like a bar of pliable gold, endlessly flexible and eerily absorbent. No matter how much force he unleashed, the energy just… vanished, as if swallowed into nothingness.

Don't be fooled by her current blindness—Francis had aimed for her head initially.

It was only because the tridents he used couldn't pierce her skull that he settled for blinding her eyes instead.

"I understand," Alan replied calmly.

Without another word, he grabbed Francis by the back of his collar and hurled him into the air like a sack of feathers.

Midflight, Francis popped open the mana restoration potion Alan had handed him just moments before and downed it in one gulp.

In an instant, shards of rubble near the ground began to rise upward, defying gravity—his magic had returned.

Alan didn't spare him another glance. His gaze now fell squarely on the two remaining enemies: the one-eyed swordsman and the petite, blind metal-element mage.

It was at that moment the one-eyed man lunged forward.

Blade in hand, steps surging with fury, he launched a vicious thrust toward Alan's chest.

But Alan didn't flinch. He tilted his head slightly and narrowly dodged the strike without even taking a step.

In a battle of this intensity, losing one eye was a severe disadvantage. The swordsman's depth perception was off, and it showed—especially against someone as fast and precise as Alan.

Still, the man had experience. A lot of it.

He twisted his wrist, turning the stab into a horizontal slash aimed directly at Alan's neck.

The sudden change in motion reduced the attack's force, but even a light graze to a vital area would have served his purpose.

Alan, however, gave him no such opportunity.

Before the blade could reach him, Lumen Sancta—his sacred staff—flew to his side unbidden, shielding him with radiant precision.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

In less than a breath, Lumen Sancta and the swordsman's blade had already clashed hundreds of times, the flurry of strikes too fast for most to follow.

Then, abruptly, the man halted his assault and stepped back.

One hand remained on his sword. The other… reached up to his head, fingers brushing across the eyepatch that obscured half his vision.

With a single motion, he sliced the patch open with his own blade.

"Heh…"

A twisted grin curled across his lips.

Alan frowned. Why is he smiling? What's he up to now?

"You're one of the few who've earned the right to see me go all out, Alan," the swordsman growled. "Today, I'll find out whether the rumors are true… whether you're really unkillable."

As the words left his lips, he ripped off the eyepatch—revealing not just a functioning eye, but one that burned with a bloody red glow.

No… it wasn't just the eye.

Alan saw it clearly—streams of crimson liquid began trailing from the corner of that eye, dripping slowly down the man's cheek and onto the ground. It looked like he was weeping blood.

"Now DIE!"

With a savage roar, the swordsman's mana surged to terrifying levels.

The silver-white blade in his hands began to mutate—pulsing with life as vein-like tendrils crawled across its surface.

At the base of the hilt, a blood-red eye—identical to the one on his face—opened slowly, its vertical, beast-like pupil gleaming with malice.

Alan could hear it—the faint sound of a scream, echoing from deep within the blade.

And then the man raised the cursed sword high… and brought it down with all his might.

Alan didn't retreat. He raised Lumen Sancta in reply and swung upward with equal ferocity.

BOOM!

The two weapons collided with a deafening crash. A shockwave of mana exploded outward, strong enough to topple several trees around them.

When the dust settled, Alan stood tall, completely unscathed.

But the swordsman?

He staggered.

His organs had ruptured from the impact of the mana clash. His body trembled violently as he fell to one knee, blood gushing from his mouth. His complexion turned ghostly pale.

Crack… crack… crack!

The blood-eyed blade slipped from his fingers and shattered into dust.

Only now did the one-eyed warrior finally realize—the gap between him and Alan was too vast. There would be no victory today.

Panic set in.

"Run!" he shouted desperately toward the petite metal-element mage nearby. "Run as far away as you can!"

But she didn't move.

Using mana as her guide in place of sight, the girl had sensed her brother's impending death.

Tears—or what would have been tears—welled up behind her eyeless gaze as she stumbled to his side and dropped to her knees.

She begged Alan.

"It was our arrogance," she whispered. "We were fools… blinded by riches that didn't belong to us. Please… please have mercy. We're just hired hands. The ones you truly hate are the ones who put that bounty on your head…"

The swordsman nodded frantically. "Yes! Yes, she's right! You risked your life to save your sister… and she's risking hers to save her brother. In a way, Alan, we're the same—you and I. You understand that… right?"

The words had barely left his lips when—

Alan raised his hand.

In a blur of motion, Lumen Sancta slashed downward.

Cleanly slicing the metal-element mage in two.

The world went silent.

The swordsman's eyes widened in disbelief.

He stood there, frozen, unable to move, unable to speak.

Seconds passed before he could even form a thought.

Then his expression twisted into uncontainable rage, and he howled like a madman:

"You… WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

"I'LL KILL YOU!! I'LL KILL YOU, YOU MONSTER!!!"

Alan furrowed his brow slightly, as if the man's voice was more irritating than threatening.

And then—he raised Lumen Sancta again.

Moments later, the screams were gone.

A second corpse lay beside the first—bisected, like his sister.

Alan stood quietly, his face expressionless.

Then, slowly, he closed his eyes and looked to the sky.

With a sigh, he whispered:

"No… we're not the same. Not even close."

"If I had died today… then Isabella, and everyone else at Sirius Academy, would have been next."

"You would've torn them apart… one by one."