Tezca stomped his foot and sent Tai's clones flying.

“I am so done with doppelgänger today,” Tezca growled.

Tai's doppelgängers hit the ground and transformed into a beam of silvery light. A flash was all it took for the glinting light to bounce back at Tezca.

Each beam of light was like the sharpest of blades. Anything they touched—even a single-cell superalloy built like a diamond—would be cut. But despite such deadliness, the monster called Tezca received the attack without even a single break in his skin.

This technique is the [Sword Embodiment] used by the Ancient, Tezca thought as he burst through the barrage of blades by releasing a crimson wave of power. Barely slowed, he threw out another land-flattening punch, blowing apart everything in his proximity to take out his attacker.

The aftereffects of that punch were a wonder to behold. The wind howled in agitation by the might of strength alone. Updraft rose and flung everything that wasn’t nailed to the ground upward.

Chandra Nova was among these unnailed objects. The panicky girl's eyes spun as she got flung into the sky and landed with a thump. She groggily shook the daze from her head, noticing neither Lin nor the [Majestic Sea] were nowhere to be found.

Unable to suppress the sense of outrage, Chandra screeched aloud.

“Don't tell me that already bitch ran away?!”

Meanwhile, Tezca glanced around for the sign of his adversary. His ear was craning for any sound Tai could make.

The answer he received was a clap of thunder.

Tai appeared from above, pulling out a green meat cleaver of a blade glowing with green fire. Like a vengeful banshee with the hair of midnight, Tai gathered the light of [Sword Embodiment] and swung her weapon down.

On the receiving end, Tezca was hit with a déjà vu.

Wait a second, Tezca thought. Isn’t that the Thousand-Haunted Beheader?

Knowing the weapon's reputation, Tezca expected Tai’s attack to be extraordinary. Yes, despite sporting a bruise around her eyes, the relentless warrior somehow retained her intimidation factor.

Tezca wasn’t disappointed.

The attack was amped with [Resonance]—a shocking discovery given both Lin and Chandra couldn’t use it. Tai’s [Resonance] clashed against Tezca's own in a flash of indigo while the green flame penetrated his skin.

Tanking the flames conjured from the grudges of thousands of vengeful souls was inconvenient enough. What was more inconvenient was having those flames glazed with razor-sharp [Sword Embodiment] dissipating through the layer of his skin. Like razor wires, the penetration power of this technique was focused on a single point to cut through layers of time-space fortifications, allowing the haunted flames to diffuse into his flesh.

Upon realizing the dissipation pattern of the poisonous flame, Tezca knew instantly that Tai understood his defense, and there was only one bastard in the Astral Sea who could have told her.

Seriously, is that guy a cockroach?

Fed up with Rem’s omnipresent specter, Tezca bat Tai away and crushed the haunted fire in his body with his [Resonance].

Tai hit the ground with a grunt and disbelief. She looked at Tezca in sheer bafflement at how her perfectly calculated attack was immediately nullified.

“How?” Tai said in sheer bafflement at how her best attack failed. As far as she knew, she did everything perfectly.

“How?” Tezca retorted in disbelief at Tai’s audacity to be surprised. “Your [Resonance] is as plain as milk. If that cockroach pulls this stunt, I will probably be howling on the floor. But you are not that guy, aren’t you?” Tezca sneered. “Your kind never has the spice to contend with us. That's why your folks went extinct, Miss Reincarnated Ancient’s Princess.”

Tai gnashed her teeth in anger. Tezca’s words struck a wound in her heart. The monster was speaking the truth. [Resonance] was a skill scaled by the user’s devotion and commitment—the two Achilles heels of the Ancient.

Mighty as they were, the Ancient Era was incredibly cruel. Secular might was pursued above all else for the sake of survival and respect. Weaknesses were scorned, and the strong ruled as alpha. It was an era where love and ideals were second to self-interest.

With this condition online, it was the era where killing techniques were pushed beyond the conceivable limit. However, the power directly correlated with ideals, love, and self-sacrifice lingered in the Dark Ages.

Tai Nova—as the carrier of the Ancient—was the prime exhibitor of their emblematic problems. She had the knowledge to kill thousands but lacked the heart to make such power meaningful.

Like her long-dead predecessor, Tai pulled another sword to continue the battle pointlessly.

“Don’t bother,” Tezca said, dousing the girl’s effort in ridicule. “You are not accomplishing anything.” He scowled at the sudden rush of air and the light of an amber portal. “And speaking of people with the opposite problem..."

Out of the portal walked two men.

One was Hakeem De Darwin loosening the scruff of his collar for the fight of his life.

Another was Remus Breaker. The Knight of True was much worse for wear after his bout with Tezca. His trousers were torn to tatters. His button-up shirt was ripped open to reveal a muscular, toned body. A noticeable eye would even notice the slight wince he made with each step.

Tezca waited for the portal to close as the two threats hit the battlefield. He knew he should launch a surprise attack, but he couldn’t bother to fail again.

Those morons were like cockroaches.

“Here comes the real challenge,” Tezca said, acknowledging the only genuine threat to his rampage. “Didn’t I already beat you both? You two are hardly healed from our last tussle."

“We can still walk, Tezzy-boy,” Rem taunted. “Do a better job this time.”

“What he said,” Hakeem added.

Tezca scowled.

“You understand your position, right? One of you barely recovered from a beating, and another wasn’t at a hundred percent.”

“We call that handicap,” Rem shrugged. “You just fight through a gauntlet of mega bitches. Sure, they lasted shorter than asphyxiating vegans in bed, but the experience must be harrowing. Isn’t it right for us to hold back a little on a trauma victim?"

Tai wanted to complain about the slander, but she was mercilessly slammed by both allies and enemies.

“Tough talk for someone who allied with Allphort’s obedient little drones,” Tezca retorted.

“Oi, stop insulting the remote-control drone,” Rem said. “Those little toys actually do as they are programmed.” Rem then pointed up at the pool of liquid malice. “And tough guy, what is it with the time-space escape runways hanging above us?”

To not lose to Rem, Tezca pointed to the brutalized Tai.

“Shut up about the allocator. What’s up with teaming with the biggest losers in multiversal history?" Tezca mocked. “You know we fucked those guys over, right?”

“We are not teaming up with those faithless losers, moron,” Rem bit back. “Can’t you recognize a meat shield when you see one?”

Hearing those banters, Tai wanted to beg the universe for an answer to why everything from good to evil and ugly was content with kicking her like a soccer ball.

To no one’s surprise, everyone ignored the Last Princess of the Ancients.

“Well, you are out of meat shields,” Tezca said. “What are you two hoping to accomplish by jumping me? This realm is finished.”

“Maybe,” Hakeem replied. “But we aren’t giving up till the very end.”

"Yeah, we want to drink some Diet Coke on top of your mangled corpse,” Rem added.

Done with these two annoying insects, Tezca made one point exactly clear.

“You two f*ckers will not die in peace.”

“Is that the best promise you can make with that room-temperature block of cement on your shoulder?” Rem said, readying his battle stance.

“The sentiment is mutual,” Hakeem added, conjuring an amber glove to box against the humanoid abomination.

The three combatants rushed toward each other. Fists rose, and a kick flew. The rumble of warring [Resonance] intensities rocked the space-time continuum and unleashed an aftershock that leveled the deserted block of the city.

Caught in the epicenter of this cosmic gang war, Tai was sent flying like a bowling pin hit by a cannonball. The only thing the proud reincarnated princess could think about was what god she offended to land her here.

…

Inside the Cosmic Tree of Braves, Symphony and Cytortia watched the live feed of the street fight of demigods.

The three spared no effort to bury the other side. Buildings were thrown. A chain of spatial shackles was created and snapped within a period of seconds. Rem even delivered a testicular-cracking kick at Tezca’s crotch with such ferocity that it would utterly break anything with the concept of pain.

“Well,” Symphony said, dissatisfied when Rem’s nutcracker elicited nothing but a grunt and a retaliating hook that sent him into the many debris laying on the battlefield. “Let it be known that Malrort’s minion has no balls.”

“Did you teach him that?” Cytortia asked in awe at the multiple instances of dirty fighting she was witnessing.

“Are you talking about the nut-shot or the [Resonance] amped brick he is throwing at Tezca’s face right now?”

Meanwhile, on the screen, Tezca charged at Rem, only to be bound around the ankle by spatial chains. In a swishing of amber, the monster was flung high in the air and sent smashing down to the ground like a human tennis racket.

Hakeem repeated the smashing for several rounds before Tezca broke out and rocketed toward him. In response, Hakeem escaped into a portal as Tezca eviscerated the ground on which he once stood.

Symphony sighed and answered the question.

“I teach them everything, Cytortia,” Symphony sighed. "The truth is, there are no rules in a street brawl.”

“You call this a street brawl?” Cytortia said, pointing at the screen showing Tezca being hit with several bricks and a kitchen sink. “Did he just throw the kitchen sink?”

“He did." Symphony nodded, accepting that they had run out of both time and options. “Cytortia, I don’t want to rush this, but you need to make the choice now given that my child has to resort to the literal kitchen sink.”

Cytortia went silent. She recalled Symphony’s explanation and knew that she didn’t have much leeway in this.

“I don’t think I have a say in this,” Cytortia said.

“You always did. Cytortia, you always have free will to define who you are. Sadly, our nature pushed us to choose the path of thorns. We simply cannot help it. Even when the entire world accepts that is just how things are, we subconsciously declare we can hold back the tidal wave with our hands.”

Despite the despairing statement, Symphony found something else to chuckle about.

“And strangely enough, we are technically right. Those who accept the world as they are and do nothing about it face stagnation. Those who accept reality but fight to make it better create an everlasting legacy. Even now, the legend of heroes hasn't faded, no matter how the faithless tried to drown in the canon. The world is still waiting for heroes. That light of endurance and self-sacrifice is something the cyclical nature of cynicism will never emulate, no matter how hard it cheats.”

Cytortia sighed. “Nova would call us egotistical punks, but I guess I have always been that.”

“Better a punk than a boomer,” Symphony said. “Are you ready?”

Cytortia got up from her chair and kneeled for the conferment ceremony.

Meanwhile, Symphony conjured a sword made of light. She tapped the girl on the shoulder and performed the induction.

“The accumulation of choices led to this solemn moment. May the stars sing the glorious ode. May the honored, departed, and yet-to-come witness this appointment. Cytortia Nova—Daughter of Heaven—will you accept this office?”

Cytortia reflected on her life, and she knew there was no other answer. Her nature as a person truly led her to two simple words.

“I will.”

Symphony tapped the blade on the other shoulder.

“Henceforth, you shall be as the Grand Saint of True—the [Cradle of Renewal]. Grand Saint Cytortia, you may rise.”