The Last Paragon in the Apocalypse

Oscar lay sprawled on the ground, dark blood seeping from his mouth and nose. His hood had fallen off, revealing a human demon’s pale, ghastly visage. His face was ghostly white, a chilling sight.

Thanks to Klaus and his Dragon killing the summon demons, he had already lost four-sevenths of his soul.

Klaus hadn’t expected the Dragon to manage to kill any of the Ascendants, but it had. His plan was for the dragon to hold the succubus and the Dark Elf back so he could deal with the other five.

But it managed to kill one. He was grateful for that small miracle.

As a show of gratitude, Klaus gave the Dragon another task. The result? The Orc Shaman’s charred body collapsed, breaking into crisp, blackened fragments.

Nearby, the Dark Elf clutched her wounded right arm, her face contorted in frustration and pain. It had become nearly impossible for her to draw her bow, leaving her vulnerable.

The demon-killing circle was gone.

The Alien had met his end after his brain had been fried, his lifeless body sprawled in the dirt. The Assassin hadn’t fared much better, succumbing to the Hell Chain Domain.

Now, only a few remained. The dual-wielding swordsman was giving everything he had, his movements desperate as he tried to bring down the annoying human who just wouldn’t die.

The Troll, however, was far too slow, lumbering uselessly in the chaos. Klaus had decided to save him for last.

After all, it was the Troll who had inflicted the most damage on him earlier, and the pain still lingered in his battered body and broken bones.

That pain, combined with the strain of his collapsing body, was becoming impossible to ignore. The inevitability of it all hung in the air like a heavy shadow.

Klaus moved swiftly, continuing his battle with the Demon Swordsman, who was surprisingly agile despite the [Face of Starvation] eating away at his essence.

The pain coursing through Klaus’s body was unbearable, yet he held on with sheer willpower, his jaw clenched and his breathing heavy.

Suddenly, Klaus evaded a sword strike, his reflexes razor-sharp. He retaliated with a kick, lunging forward and using his saber to steady himself as he regained balance mid-motion.

The kick connected, forcing the Swordsman back. Seizing the moment, Klaus dashed forward, slipping between the Troll’s massive legs. His saber slashed upward but met resistance.

“Bastard’s skin is ridiculously thick,” Klaus muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing in frustration.

The Troll’s hide would require a special kind of poison to kill him. His body was an impenetrable fortress, and Klaus was running out of time.

Every second spent battling drained more of the volatile energy inside him, and the toll on his collapsing body was mounting.

He needed to release his boons, which is the [Sky Dominion] giving him a 300% boost and [Shared] giving him 240%, but to do so, the remaining two enemies had to die.

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Luckily, the Dragon was almost done with the Dark Elf.

BOOM.

The Troll’s massive mallet struck the ground where Klaus had been just moments before. Dust and debris erupted, but Klaus had already dodged, his sharp eyes catching an opening in the chaos.

Without hesitation, he went for it.

In the heat of combat, such moments could tilt the balance of power. Even a Demi-God could fall prey to an unexpected strike.

This time, the Demon Swordsman bore the brunt of the chaos. The impact didn’t throw Klaus off course; instead, it sent the Swordsman flying through the air.

Klaus appeared behind him the instant he landed, his movements like a blur. A spear materialized, piercing through the Swordsman’s head from the back, appearing through his mouth.

Lightning surged along the spear, crackling with destructive energy.

The Demon Swordsman’s head was reduced to nothing but charred remnants, the air filled with the acrid stench of burnt flesh.

Klaus stood still momentarily, his chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.

The troll was the only one left, towering over him like an unmovable mountain. Klaus scanned the beast, his sharp eyes darting to the mallet in its hands.

He clenched his fists, frustration flickering on his face. He saw no clean way to bring the behemoth down.

“Tsk,” he muttered, his lips curling in annoyance. “This isn’t noble, but I need to win. For that, I’ll lower myself to this.”

With swift precision, Klaus grabbed a handful of dirt and hurled it into the troll’s face. The grains struck true, blinding the creature. It roared, thrashing its massive head in confusion.

Seizing the moment, Klaus moved like a shadow. With a sharp, violent twist, his hand shot out, and he drove his spear into one of the troll’s eyes.

It burst like an egg, sending dark ichor spraying across the battlefield. His spear found its mark again and, a heartbeat later, took out the second eye.

The troll howled in agony, its giant mallet slipping from its trembling hands and crashing to the ground.

Klaus stood back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His posture straightened, and his eyes gleamed.

“Second rule of slaughter,” he said, his voice steady, “if you can’t kill them with your weapon, kill them with theirs.”

Klaus extended his hand. The mallet shuddered and then flew into Klaus’s hand.

With an effortless leap, he soared six meters into the air, his body crackling with raw energy. Lightning sparked around the weapon, crawling across its surface like hungry snakes.

Klaus’s eyes blazed white as arcs of electricity burst from the mallet, illuminating the battlefield. The weapon pulsed in his grip, its size swelling threefold.

Its weight increased fivefold.

“Die, brute!”

His voice boomed like thunder as he brought the colossal weapon down. Lightning and thunder roared in unison as the mallet struck, splitting the troll’s skull clean in half.

Blood and bone scattered in a violent eruption.

The mallet cracked under the force, breaking in half, but the job was done. The troll collapsed, its massive frame thudding lifelessly to the ground.

Soon, it dispersed and was gone.

Klaus landed heavily, his knees bending to absorb the impact. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but he paid it no mind. His lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze locked on the elf in the distance.

He wasn’t done. Not yet.

The ninth core churned within him, glowing faintly as it neared completion. He felt its power surging, almost ready to overflow.

The moment the elf fell, that would be it. That would be when his transformation into a Sage would begin.

As expected, when Klaus looked at Oscar, he saw the man was barely clinging to life.

Klaus chuckled, glancing again—this time at the seven cards still hovering in the air. His blood boiled with excitement, his lips curling into a sly smirk.

He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them. Since Oscar believed his soul could unlock the true nature of the Seven Deadly Cards, Klaus was determined to accomplish what Oscar could not.

Parts of Klaus’s body were nothing but exposed bone, but he would survive… somehow.

ROAR

Suddenly, a powerful slash tore across the once-beautiful sky.

The Dark Elf was sent hurtling downward, her scream echoing before being abruptly cut off. The bow in her hand snapped, and her charred body hit the ground with a sickening thud.

She was roasted alive, her body sizzling like a cruel mockery of a barbecue. The Dragon had cooked her.

The moment she died, Oscar’s body stilled as well. But unlike hers, his body didn’t vanish.

Klaus sat cross-legged in a lotus position, his breathing ragged and his expression hollow. Then, his head dipped forward as his mind gave out.

He passed out.

Above him, the heavens split open. Tribulation runes rained down, glowing with divine love as they poured into his battered body.