Within an office, an elderly man was hurriedly packing his bags. Needless to say, this elderly man was Chase.

“I think that’s everything. Ryzel’s army is on its way here, time to haul ass and get the fuck out of here. Those three kids should be able to handle it,” he said to himself, grabbing his luggage while making his way to the door.

After opening the door, what greeted him was a blonde elf with her arms crossed wearing a badge with the number seven on it, repeatedly tapping one of her feet.

“Cain told me to watch the office in case you decided to run away,” the elf said while looking at him coldly.

“Uh, will you turn a blind eye if I gave you one of my lollipops?” he tried bribing his way out.

The elf only proceeded to look at him as if he were the most disgusting sight she had ever laid her eyes upon.

The pitiful headmaster cursed internally while thinking (this is what I get for enrolling precocious students.)

Chase slammed his office door shut. He felt like he died a little on the inside and made the most miserable, prolonged wail he had ever made in his life. The wail continued for an indeterminate amount of time until he finally ran out of breath.

That’s when it happened. He felt a ridiculously large eruption of mana somewhere on the planet. At that instant, his facial expression contorted into something incredibly ugly. That expression vanished in the next moment, as if it had never existed. His face became completely expressionless and cold, no longer revealing a trace of his usual senile demeanor. This was his true self. Every single outward expression he had made up until this point had been a feigned act.

The aura Chase gave off was like if he felt like it, he could have annihilated Ryzel and his army without any effort.

(That amount of mana, an apostle from the Heaven Arena? Let’s find out.) he mused with a deadly glint in his eyes.

(Worldbreaking technique: Cross Gazer,) he said within his heart.

Chase’s vision shifted to an overview of the world. It was like he was viewing the world from a satellite. The amount of information his brain was processing would have instantly killed any other person at worst, or would have made them brain dead or placed them into a coma at best.

His view constantly shifted around the world, until finally stopping at the area where he felt the surge of mana. What he saw was a maelstrom of mithril fragments, with two figures fighting within. It seemed like the mana came from the one that looked like an elemental.

“Ah, it’s just children fighting, hohoho!” he adopted his former atmosphere, laughing heartily while running his fingers through his long, white beard.

Even between immortals, there were power differences that separated them into other tiers. There were +/- modifiers, and up to a total of one to three S’s. Normally, it would be hard to differentiate the ranks between immortals at a glance because there were simply too many variables. The remaining five members of Paragon were elite among immortals, each at least being SSS, yet Chase still acted as if they were insignificant in his eyes.

“But it sure is surprising. That brat Julius was hiding such an ability!” for a moment, he had almost mistook the large fluctuation of mana from Julius’ transformation into his elemental form as a descent of one of the four apostles from the Heaven Arena.

“Well, the victor of the battle is already decided,” he said while continuing to observe the battle disinterestedly. He saw Julius’ right arm turn into a beam of pressurized water, and Alistair deflecting it with his Prismatic Light Shield. At the battle’s climax, both fell into the sea.

The final thing he saw from the remnants of the battle was a lone figure rising up from the sea. The figure was grasping a shining white sword.

“As I thought, he was the winner after all,” he said smugly.

“Ohhh? Looks like something interesting is happening over here too,” Chase’s view once again shifted to another part of the planet.

---

In an isolated corner of the world, a man dressed entirely in black clothing stood facing off against another young blonde male wearing tattered clothes, like a vagabond. They were both deemed immortals by the standards of the world. The man in black had short white hair, and wore a black mask that completely covered his face, only revealing a pair of glowing heterochromatic purple and green eyes. With his black clothing, he looked like he was a ninja. This man was the immortal Schwarz.

Schwarz was searching for potential immortals to invite to Paragon. In truth, he had no interest whatsoever in Paragon’s ideals. He simply wanted to enter the next Heaven Arena ten years from now with the guild that had the strongest members, and so far he deemed the leader of Paragon to have the highest qualifications. He couldn’t depend on Julius’ referral of Volheilm’s son, Hope. Volheilm was a useless immortal, and his son would be one as well. This was his thoughts, and so he set off in search of strong immortals immediately after the guild meeting.

“I was mistaken, I thought there would be a strong immortal here,” Schwarz said in disappointment.

The blonde vagabond’s eyebrows twitched in irritation, and he said, “Are you implying I’m weaker than you?”

Those words were laced with hostility.

“Yes,” Schwarz replied bluntly.

“Then let’s find out,” the vagabond said while grinning as if he expected the answer, and immediately took action. He materialized a large javelin out of thin air, and threw it towards Schwarz. The speed it flew at created a sonic boom before completely disappearing towards the unmoving Schwarz. The javelin vanished out of existence.

“Bingo,” the vagabond said and smiled. Experienced immortals would usually fight using their brains, and therefore take into account every possible variable they could think of and movement in a battle. The vagabond had assumed that Schwarz would dodge the javelin at the last possible moment to maximize his combat efficiency, using this assumption he was able to predict that Schwarz had already determined the speed at which the javelin was thrown at and the precise moment he needed to dodge it at. This was a trick he often used in combat. He applied spatial magic on the javelin before throwing it. The javelin would arrive sooner, and this would completely throw off Schwarz’s predictions.

The javelin reappeared in front of Schwarz, and precisely pierced through his heart and lodged into his body. The force flung his body backwards and sent him rolling along with the momentum of the javelin. A pool of blood formed under Schwarz’s unmoving body lying on the ground.

The vagabond was shocked when he saw the blood. The blood wasn’t red. It was a repulsive pitch-black, and it looked like tar. That wasn’t all, the ground that the blood came into contact with was dissolving. The blood was corrosive.

Schwarz slowly picked himself back up until he was standing upright, and grabbed onto the javelin.

“An Astral Mage?” Schwarz said with surprise filling his voice. Another person immediately came to his mind.

“Why didn’t you dodge?” the vagabond questioned him. The realization had finally dawned on him when he noticed it. Schwarz hadn’t taken into account the speed of the javelin at all. It was like… he didn’t plan on dodging it from the start.

“There was simply no need to,” Schwarz said, and pulled the javelin out from his body. The sight was surreal. The javelin had definitely impaled him and destroyed his heart. The vagabond felt like he was the main character in a horror movie.

“What the hell are you?” the vagabond asked him, terrified.

“A human, but I’ve experimented on my body to better suit my abilities. A wound like this won’t have any affect on me. I’ve turned off my sense of pain for now,” Schwarz said while throwing the javelin to the floor. As he spoke, the hole created by the javelin began healing itself until it was entirely closed.

They both silently observed one another, when both felt a large fluctuation of mana created by Julius and turned to face the direction it came from.

“I wasn’t planning on killing you, but a stronger immortal takes precedence,” Schwarz said while looking into the direction of Julius’ battle.

The vagabond regained his composure. A smug smile once again covered his panic-stricken face. He still had his trump card. He was confident that no immortal could endure it.

“You should have never provoked me. Regret it in the afterlife!” the vagabond shouted. He stretched both hands out towards Schwarz.

The space around Schwarz began to distort, creating a translucent dome that sealed everything within. Nothing could escape from it. It was a container created in fear of something escaping from it. The vagabond wasn’t afraid of the possibility of Schwarz escaping, but rather he was afraid of the damage he would cause from his own technique.

He was using his trump card. The strongest ability he possessed, and he was channeling all of his mana into it.

The air began to condense and compress itself into a tiny sphere in the center of the translucent dome that contained Schwarz. The tiny ball of air contained the foreboding feeling of a calamity. It continually absorbed the surrounding air in the vicinity and condensed it, like an endless vacuum. It possessed a terrifying amount of mana, and even the air outside of the dome was drawn towards it.

Schwarz stood unmoving, and simply stared at the ball of air in interest. Finally, the vagabond nearly used up his mana reserves, and could no longer funnel air towards the sphere. He was panting heavily and could barely maintain the dome that locked the area of space within.

“DIE! HAHAHAHAHA! Worldbreaking technique: Supernova!” the vagabond laughed madly, and ignited the compressed ball of air.

There was an explosion. An explosion on the scale of a miniature star exploding. It was as if a sun had exploded. Within the translucent dome, the only thing that could be seen was a raging blue explosion. The flames had been so hot that they took on a shade of blue, the hottest color of fire.

Having exhausted all his mana, the vagabond dropped to his knee. He looked defeated, but he was smiling. He had won. No immortal could have survived that. He kneeled on a single knee while enjoying the sight of his creation. To him, it was beautiful. The only thing that could be seen was a shade of blue. The explosion still continued, trapped within the sealed area of space.

The explosion had created a crater within the sealed area of space. If the ground hadn’t been sealed off as well, the explosion would have entirely disintegrated that area of the continent.

The explosion had eventually subsided, leaving behind a vestige of scorched Earth within the crater and a still raging sea of blue flames. The vagabond could no longer maintain the barrier, and finally released it. The smell of smoke instantly filled the air, and blue flames engulfed the surroundings as soon as it was released.

The vagabond kneeled, observing the spreading flames in adoration. He was completely satisfied having spent all his mana to cause that scale of destruction. He looked towards the center of the crater.

In the midst of the blue flames and smoke, he could vaguely make out a figure. Despair filled him. The figure was completely covered in burns, and the only thing he wore was a mask, the rest of his clothing had been disintegrated. He was engulfed in flames, and stood completely still within the blaze as if it had nothing to do with him. That figure gazed at him with glowing purple and green eyes.

The vagabond no longer had any more energy nor mana. He dropped to the ground, and began crawling. He was crawling away from that monster. He dragged his body across the ground in an attempt to escape.

“It’s useless,” Schwarz said, as if to crush all his hopes.

“I told you I’ve experimented with my body. It’s immune to all thermal changes. Something on that level can’t harm me, unless it’s on the scale of Chase’s Supernova. Yours is just a cheap imitation compared to his,” Schwarz continued. He moved at an extreme speed that put out the remaining blue flames before arriving next to the crawling vagabond.

“Goodbye.” That was the last thing the vagabond heard before he could no longer see, move, or hear. Something entered his body. The only thing he felt was pain, an extraordinary amount of pain that made him wish Schwarz would have just simply killed him. The torturous pain was a fate worse than death.

If any other immortal enhanced their vision with mana, they would have seen a green powder originating from Schwarz that was entering the vagabond. That green mist was a poison that cut off all senses aside from pain. It ate away at the victim’s body from the inside. If the poison successfully entered the body, the only thing waiting would be an extremely excruciating and painful death. This was Schwarz’s Worldbreaking technique: Rafflesia Essence, it made his body excrete a deadly, invisible poison.

Years ago, back when those who knew him were still alive, they had called him The Lord of Poison, Schwarz.

The vagabond wanted to scream, but he was unable to. He felt like his throat was on fire, and kept thinking repeatedly, (KILL ME! PLEASE! JUST KILL ME!) Black patches began appearing on his skin, and the last moments of his life were filled with thoughts of wanting to die.

Schwarz stood next to the corpse of the former immortal, and said, “Time to find out where that mana came from,” while looking in the direction of Julius’ battle. He was about to leave when a voice stopped him from behind.

“You’re as cruel as always,” the voice sounded like it came from an elderly man.

Without turning back around, Schwarz retorted, “I don’t want to hear that from someone who abandoned his own guild in the last Heaven Arena ninety years ago.”

That was his sin.

“You saw the source of that mana fluctuation didn’t you? What caused it?” Schwarz asked.

“Give it up. It was from Julius,” the voice answered.

The two immortals here were the only survivors on their planet from the previous Heaven Arena from ninety years ago.

Schwarz slowly turned around to face the source of the voice, and said, “Speaking of the Heaven Arena, why don’t you join Paragon, Chase? It’ll increase our chances of winning if we have you, the leader, and I in the same guild.”

The person Schwarz was speaking to was The Legendary Astral Mage Chase.

“I woooooould, but human supremacy isn’t my thing,” Chase declined while shrugging.

“I’ll just kill you to increase my chances, then,” Schwarz stated plainly.

“Are you sure? I haven’t fought seriously in decades. You’ll definitely regret it,” Chase said while laughing away.

“I’ll take my chances,” Schwarz said before flashing and appearing in front of Chase, or rather where Chase once stood. Something brown materialized above him and fell. It completely covered him.

Chase’s figure could no longer be seen, only leaving behind an echo, “I told you you would regret it.”

Chase knew that Schwarz would immediately come after him, so he teleported away and left a parting gift at where he stood moments before. It was shit. Chase had actually accumulated and collected years worth of his own feces in his own dimensional pocket. He had released that dimensional pocket above himself before he teleported back to his office at Galvane.

Schwarz was left naked, and completely buried within a pile of feces. He did in fact regret it.

---

Excalibur skewered both immortals in mid-air, causing cracks to appear on Julius Earthern-formed body, and another heavy wound to appear on Alistair. The only thing that kept both of them in the air was the momentum from the holy sword.

“IF I’M DYING, I’LL DEFINITELY TAKE YOU DOWN WITH ME, JULIUS!” Alistair shouted with his remaining strength.

The tempest of mithril fragments immediately stopped. They reassembled to form back into their original state, and millions of Excaliburs levitated, pointing at both of the airborne immortals that were pinned together.

“I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL!” Alistair yelled, and the Excaliburs were attracted to them like magnets.

They were continually pierced by the millions of the surrounding Excaliburs. They were thrown around in the air like ragdolls, only managing to keep afloat due to the Excaliburs’ force and trajectory.

Julius’ body was covered in cracks, and his limbs that were held together with mana were phasing in and out of existence. Under the continuous onslaught of Excaliburs, Julius’ body completely crumbled into pieces and fell into the sea beneath them.

Alistair’s body was shredded beyond recognition, with several holy swords stuck in his body. The remaining Excaliburs vanished, leaving only the original still impaled in his body, and he too fell into the sea.

The surroundings went abruptly silent. It was as if the grand battle moments before never took place.

Moments passed before something slowly rose from the quiet sea.

What rose from the sea was a pebble.

The levitating pebble seemed to possess mana, and expanded until it formed a body. Mana extended from the body’s joints. Limbs began to form themselves. A right arm made from water, a left arm made from white flames, legs crafted from Earth, and a head of mana.

“Foolish to the very end. As long as I have a connection with mana in this form, I’m invincible,” Julius said. He had transformed into an elemental, a being composed entirely of mana. He siphoned mana from his surroundings to recreate his body.

Having judged that Alistair perished, Julius canceled his technique and reverted back into his human form.

“Although being in that form does place a heavy strain on my body,” he muttered ruefully. His entire body was sore.

Julius stretched out an arm toward the sea, and a brilliant white sword was attracted to him. He thoroughly examined the sword in his grasp with his mana sense.

“A fake,” he said and clicked his tongue. He judged that the artifact wasn’t The Legendary Holy Sword Excalibur. It was an imitation made in Excalibur’s image. The False Holy Sword Caliburn. Caliburn was an artifact created with the intention of mimicking Excalibur, but it fell short of Excalibur’s power. It was an inferior copy of Excalibur possessing a lesser version of all of its abilities, yet it still had its own sentience as an artifact.

The sword he was holding was actually much, much more powerful than Excalibur. It was one of the strongest swords in the galaxy, but how could Julius have known? The sword didn’t approve of Alistair, nor did it approve of him. It didn’t like either of them and didn’t allow them to use its full power.

“I’ll just give this to one of my surviving apprentices,” Julius said, while still holding what he deemed to be a worthless artifact, The False Holy Sword Caliburn. Little did he know it no longer called itself Caliburn.

The sword possessed sentience. It was jealous. It was created as a clone of Excalibur, but it was still always inferior to it. That feeling of inferiority overwhelmed it. Why wasn’t it as powerful as Excalibur, or other legendary artifacts? Years of its existence passed, and its jealously only grew. It was always, always overshadowed by Excalibur. Its jealousy was so intense that it managed to stumble upon a divine door within its consciousness. This divine door was frighteningly similar to the one that appeared within Zieg’s consciousness.

It opened the door. The door contained a soul fragment of the previous sovereign of their world. A fragment of the Demon God’s soul. After the Demon God lost in a battle against the current ruler of their world hundreds of years ago, the god presiding over their world’s Heaven Arena. The Demon God split his own soul and consciousness into seven fragments as a last resort. Years later, the fragments searched and lay dormant in their own suitable hosts. The fragments could only select one host. This was why Zieg had reincarnated, because a fragment of the Demon God’s soul had chosen him and used its power to forcefully resurrect him as the son as the person he most recently killed, but Zieg refused to unseal the door containing the fragment.

Once a gate containing one of the Demon God’s soul fragment was opened, it could ultimately only end with one of three possibilities. Either the Demon God’s fragment’s consciousness would consume its host’s consciousness, fuse and merge with its host’s consciousness, or the host consumed the Demon God’s fragment’s consciousness. Co-existence was also possible, but as soon as the door containing it was opened, it would constantly try to consume its host.

Caliburn successfully merged its consciousness with a fragment of the Demon God many years ago. The moment it succeeded in its fusion, it no longer called itself Caliburn. It called itself Caljeal, The Demonic Holy Sword of Envy. An artifact that possessed a terrifying ability.