Vol 3. Chapter 47: Vinny vs. the Ancient King of Marsmo

“The king has not personally applied Mars’s original tortures to outsiders for a very long time. This will be an excellent opportunity.” Kantesius’s tone brimmed with the contempt and cruelty of a superior toward ants. In his eyes, these two foreigners hardly counted as human at all—one was an attractive, interesting toy; the other, a fake-skin mannequin to be tormented and posed at will.

It was as if, to him, everyone but himself was merely a breathing prop.

He flexed his thick finger joints, cracking them with a terrifying ka-cha, ka-cha, while a chill laugh rasped from his mouth. Every step he took seemed to make the ground tremble—pressure incarnate.

This was beyond arrogance. This was a man who, by nature, believed all others owed him worship; that he could toy with anyone’s fate; that he alone was the world’s unquestioned master.

“Such a nauseating act. Hey—you’d better stop fiddling with your fingers like that. Careful you don’t snap those pig-hock digits of yours.” Vinny trash-talked as he summoned [Armor Fortress].

A silver sheen descended over him. A set of lux, awe-inspiring silver armor phased together over his body, then solidified—countless silver motes surging outward.

Now, at the Magus tier, [Armor Fortress] looked nothing like the original rank-and-file armor of the Old Tyrelis Empire’s “Spear of Tyrelis” troops. Calling it a legion commander’s kit wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

A blue knight’s long crest, trimmed with gold patterns, trailed down his back; a red war-cloak billowed behind him. The helmet had shifted from mail and face-veil to full metal, leaving only a breathing slit and visor seams. The boots and many parts that had once been mail were now solid plate.

More than an armored cavalryman, Vinny now looked like a grand knight in full dress.

Catching this, Isatia’s eyes flashed with a hint of surprise.

Of course she recognized it—Vinny’s [Armor Fortress] had evolved far beyond the category of a typical [Armor Fortress].

She quickly reasoned it was because Vinny had grown stronger and his Spirit Soul had advanced.

But did the [Armor Fortress] handed down from the Old Empire have a “changes appearance as the realm advances” function??

Isatia remembered: it did not. And she was certain her memory wasn’t wrong.

If a standard [Armor Fortress] could evolve to this degree, its looks alone would’ve made who-knows-how-many people choose it—yet its magic aptitude requirement was only one star.

That made no sense. Which left one possibility: Vinny’s Spirit Soul compatibility with [Armor Fortress] was extraordinarily high—so high that the [Spirit Soul] strengthened as its owner grew stronger.

So... did Vinny choose [Armor Fortress] not out of necessity, but on purpose??

“Oh? An armor style I’ve never seen among aliens. Is that your tribe’s harness? What lets you arm yourself in an instant?” Kantesius jeered with a savage grin.

Isatia clenched the gem in her hand, laboriously reached to pick up the fallen documents beside her, and refocused on the parchments—raising her [Construction Degree] toward Marsmo civilization.

She knew what she had to do now. True, Vinny belonged to the present age, and there was a massive generational gap between his magic and that of ancient Marsmo—he could use that gap to crush an opponent.

But the other party was the King of Marsmo. His magical aptitude—and likely his affinity—had to far exceed Vinny’s.

And while ancient magical tech was outdated, Vinny’s [Armor Fortress] was a mass-produced Spirit Soul from the early Old Tyrelis Empire, still a low-magic era. In terms of “generation gap,” it hadn’t outpaced Marsmo by much; the Old Empire and Marsmo eras were quite close.

Therefore, she didn’t count on Vinny defeating the revived ancient king Kantesius. She only hoped Vinny could keep himself safe while delaying the King of Marsmo for a while.

If it came to it—if Vinny couldn’t hold or was in danger—she would have to act with her current [Construction Degree], ready or not.

Kantesius strode in with overbearing momentum—as if he meant to crush his foe first with sheer presence, to let his enemy stew in despair. He deliberately slowed his steps; the red hair down his back flared like a lion’s mane.

This overly massive, dark-skinned man truly radiated a lion’s aura.

Wind stirred the cloak behind Vinny. The armored figure, spear of ice in hand, stood tall and imperious—like a battle-scarred knight facing a ferocious, enraged behemoth.

As Kantesius advanced, Vinny chose his moment and planted his feet.

“Pig-head—eat my Flying-Sand Kick!”

[Annihilating Heavy Stomp]

The ground shattered under Vinny. He gathered himself and sprang.

Kantesius, seasoned, slipped aside—his combat experience was obvious at a glance.

But he had underestimated the generational gap in magic—judging the move by experience alone.

He had never seen magic in this form. He thought Vinny was simply jumping up to kick him—never realizing Vinny’s landing point wasn’t him but the ground beside him.

Vinny fell like a missile. The instant both feet hit, countless rock splinters blasted out, rippling across the surroundings; dust erupted and billowed outward.

Not only that—a sandstorm vortex tore across the floor.

Right—this restraining, harassment-grade dust-and-sand vortex add-on was what he’d grasped when the sandstorm had swept him earlier.

Kantesius, caught off guard, was perforated by the flying stone fragments, then hurled into the air by a surging spread of earth element—only to be sucked into the sandstorm vortex, riddled again and again by the ever-spreading earthen shards. The golden gauze on his body was thrashed beyond recognition; even the mask on his face was blasted clean off.

As the beastlike figure crashed down like a cut kite, Vinny rolled his shoulders.

“You—King of Marsmo? Look at that—tore your mask right off. Time to beat your face in!”

“I thought you’d be something special—‘King of Kings’? This is it?” Vinny taunted.

Watching, Isatia’s eyes narrowed. As potent as Vinny’s earth-element magic was, she didn’t think things were that simple.

Vinny dusted his hands and looked at Kantesius, who lay motionless. He also felt it had gone too smoothly.

Earth element wasn’t known for offense, but at this level, a graze could kill—especially when the target had no elemental-resist items or gear and wore only a king’s robe like some primitive.

A direct hit should have blown a body into who-knew-how-many pieces.

But even allowing for a magic generation gap—this was a famed former king of Marsmo, wasn’t he??

No backup at all??

Was the quality of the revived really this poor??

Reality answered quickly.

Kantesius’s “corpse” rose, borne aloft by a strange power; the other “body fragments” floated too, then knit together in midair under that same uncanny force.

Kantesius revived.

“Heh... heh heh.” He chuckled without warning. “I’ve experienced death once already. I don’t mind experiencing it a few more times. In the end, I revive.”

“F—” Vinny couldn’t hold back a curse. “What are you, a cockroach??”

“Keep posturing, then!” Vinny swung his spear in a lateral sweep.

[Rimefrost Full-Moon Slash]

Now that Vinny had stepped into the Magus tier, [Rimefrost Full-Moon Slash] had grown notably stronger. A few faint blizzard scars etched themselves through the air; his spear cut a silver-comet arc and chopped Kantesius into an ice statue.

“Rot here and think about your sins!” Vinny snorted.

He’d more or less grasped the situation. This was a secret realm shaped by fragments of [Eternity] and [Continuance]. The people inside might well be unkillable—locked into a state of perpetual [Eternity] and [Continuance].

If he couldn’t kill him, then freeze and seal him. Just don’t let him move, right?

That was Vinny’s thought. Yet in the very next second, the ice statue creaked—krrrk, krrrk—and shattered. Kantesius stepped out unscathed; the vicious frostbite across his body melted away at a speed visible to the naked eye.

“Tickle.” It couldn’t slow Kantesius’s pace. He kept coming for Vinny and Isatia.

“Ignorant aliens—today, behold the miracle of Marsmo.”

“Here I stand upon the ground forged by my achievements and my glory. I am greater than I was in life—stronger!” Kantesius threw wide his arms. “I am undying.”

“Undying my ass!” An icy demon mask flashed over Vinny’s face—blue-green fangs bared—and he sprayed Kantesius with a torrent of abuse.

[Frost and Snow Engulfing Flame]

This time, the ice-flame blast scoured Kantesius to tatters—his body blown into burning shards of frost.

And yet, the next second, Kantesius appeared before them whole and unharmed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Reduced to frost-ash and still reviving, Vinny could only laugh in fury.

He’d finally kicked down the door into the Magus ranks, joined the strong—and the first fight was against an invincible mechanic boss. How was he supposed to run this market stall??

“Alien—feel fear.” Kantesius reached back, took up the monstrous, bristling mace behind him, and brought it down toward Vinny.

“Am I being too polite to you, you antique wall sconce? Keep posing—I’ll send you flying!” Vinny dodged in a hurry. That thing was made to break armor. Even if it probably lacked magic, he had no desire to take it head-on—that would hurt.

Vinny was classic dual-output: his hands never stopped, and neither did his mouth. Unfortunately, Kantesius wasn’t buying it.

Vinny slipped past the blow, seized on Kantesius’s end-lag, and thrust for his flank.

But if Kantesius lagged in magic because of the generational gap, in live combat Vinny was far beneath him.

Kantesius reacted instantly, clamping the spearhead and preventing Vinny from drawing back Frostfang. With his other hand, he swung the mace straight for Vinny’s crown.

Two choices for Vinny now. One: abandon the weapon and evade—losing initiative completely, with no path to reversal. Two: take the mace head-on.

Vinny chose the latter.

[Ice Skin]

CLANG! CLANG!! The mace slammed into Vinny, now an ice-armored man, blasting out a spray of ice chips that spattered across Kantesius—raking and frost-burning swathes of his skin. Vinny dropped [Ice Skin], rolled his spear, and hacked hard at Kantesius’s neck—blood gushed at once.

“Heh... heh-heh!” Even with his vocal cords nearly severed, Kantesius forced out a torn, flayed laugh—hysterical, manic.

The man was long since lost to some form of madness, wasn’t he??

And it didn’t stop there. He seized Frostfang’s shaft and yanked Vinny off his feet, then hammered him into the ground.

The floor cratered; Vinny was smashed into the pit.

What monstrous strength. Was this thing even human?!

Dazed and reeling, Vinny lay in the hole, unable to pull Frostfang free—its blade wedged in Kantesius’s neck. The human-shaped beast’s neck was thick as a stump, the musculature densely hard. The beheading chop had sunk through skin, shattered bone, and half his throat—and still couldn’t take his life.

Kak-kak-kak-kak! Kantesius loosed a frenzy of laughter. Half his mask had fallen away; Vinny saw the rough, flushed meat of his face.

Had bone shards lodged in his throat?

In pain like that—and he could still laugh?

What a... monster.

As Kantesius began to cast, ready to cripple him, Isatia’s grip tightened around the eagle-talon crown-gem.

At the last split second, Vinny exploded with strength again. Weaponless at the bottom of the pit, his palm snapped out [Congealed-Ice Shackles], binding Kantesius’s arms, raised to gather magic—and with those [Congealed-Ice Shackles], Vinny hauled himself toward Kantesius.

Borrowing force, Vinny kicked. He knew full well that, with his strength, a kick on this humanoid monster wouldn’t even cause a flinch; conventional physical strikes could scarcely harm it.

So he kicked... Frostfang.

Another kick—he drove Frostfang deep into Kantesius’s neck.

At last, a reaction—Kantesius, in agony and wild excitement, clawed for Vinny.

Even now, the brute hadn’t lost combat power.

Vinny knew he wouldn’t be able to draw Frostfang back out. Landing, he smashed the crimson, coagulating-liquid potion Aesphyra had given him straight into Kantesius’s face.

It was an instantly recognizable vial—the roiling fire-red spoke for itself.

A savage bloom of fire erupted, racing across Kantesius’s body in an instant.

Vinny watched the king thrash in the blaze and crumble to ash, then retrieved Frostfang from the heap.

Now, the alchemical stock Aesphyra had given him was nearly spent, and he himself was injured. He’d carried Isatia on his back for so long without rest, only to fight the King of Marsmo right away. The piled-up exhaustion hadn’t eased—it had worsened.

His stamina was drained dry. He’d thrown everything he had at Kantesius and killed him several times over—yet he still had to face Kantesius climbing from the ash pile again, unscathed, status fully refreshed.

Vinny was a spent arrow; Kantesius stood as robust as when he’d first strode into the chamber.

Was Kantesius strong?

Not really. Leveraging the magic generation gap, Vinny had killed him several times. But Kantesius could make endless mistakes, while Vinny could afford only one—and he had no way to restore his state.

From behind, half-watching Vinny, Isatia felt a flicker of surprise at the strength he’d displayed.

In her plan, Vinny could at best stall Kantesius for a short while before she’d be forced to step in. The outcome, though, was that Vinny had delayed Kantesius for a very long time—and killed him multiple times. If not for the rules set by the [Eternity] and [Continuance] Divine Authority, the ancient King of Marsmo would not have been Vinny’s match at all.

Vinny’s performance today had far exceeded Isatia’s expectations. At this point, he could probably slip into the first-year top ten with ease.

But now... it looked like Vinny was close to his limit. Isatia glanced at the parchments at her side—many still remained.

Perhaps... there was no room left to hold back.