Cain let out a silent breath of relief.
'That was close, now where was —'
Cain couldn't finish the thought. It was if the battlefield was replaced.
The battle dragged on, and the golemite began to adapt.
Its movements sharpened, no longer flailing but mimicking — predicting.
It lost two more arms in the process, but its learning curve was steep.
What began as a one-sided assault from Midi and Dilim slowly tilted.
The stone creature was adjusting, reacting to their patterns, and finding gaps.
Seeing it copy their strikes with eerie precision, the two giants exchanged a glance — shifting tactics.
Without hesitation, they swung their blades at each other.
The collision didn't clash—instead, fire met frost, and the impact birthed a surge of steam that swallowed the battlefield in a thick, roiling mist.
From within the vapor, Dilim stomped once, and frozen platforms formed mid-air, anchoring their next move.
With precision, he threw his sword like a spear, arcs of frost spiraling out — piercing the golemite's limbs and sealing them in jagged, icy restraints.
That was all Midi needed.
With a roar, he raised his blazing sword overhead and brought it down in a blazing arc of fury.
The molten edge carved through the ice like it were paper, the sheer force driving into the golemite nearly splitting it in two.
Shards of stone and steam exploded outward as the alloy creature reeled.
Eight arms and three sensing crystals left — but it learned a bigger lesson now.
It's body was now able to synchronize fire and ice — forging and tempering itself in the process.
Impurities fell away one by one. Its body, once rough ore and stone, now gleamed metallic and crystalline.
Then, the unthinkable happened — the golemite conjured its own mist.
Thick vapor began to pour as a pair of arms made of opposing elements made contact with one another.
Swirling in patterns eerily similar to the combo that Midi and Dilim had just unleashed. Only now, the mist no longer concealed them — it blanketed the field in confusion, favoring the stone monster.
'Yes! That's it fight harder and get stronger!'
Cain could only cheer on the side as the tide shifted.
The giants, once dominant, now found themselves reacting — swinging blindly, forced onto the defensive.
They tried to disperse the haze with wide, desperate strikes, but the golemite's extra limbs kept churning the vapor, birthing more with each movement.
Visibility vanished.
Once-stone now alloy swords lashed out from the mist with brutal precision.
Gashes opened along Midi's flame-scorched frame, a flaming fist appeared out of nowhere, shattering Dilim's armor of ice.
Still, they held their ground. But their weapons.... It began to fail.
Swords that once cut through legions now chipped, cracked, and splintered.
The golemite had analyzed their pattern with machine precision — learned to heat, to chill, to fracture.
Hot met cold with deliberate cruelty, unraveling the giants' strength stroke by stroke.
Wounds deepened. Movements slowed. Their forms, once towering and absolute, now staggered under the weight of pain.
But they did not fall. Not yet.
"Noya!"
(Now!)
Outmatched and bleeding, the duo made a desperate choice.
Dilim gritted his teeth, drove his prana into the blade, and slammed it into the ground.
Ice erupted outward, freezing the earth in a sudden, brittle sheen
In seconds, the battlefield turned into a glass-slick arena — cold, unstable, and lethal.
But this was no accident.
Dilim and Midi moved as one — gliding across the frozen surface with practiced ease, skating low and fast beneath the golemite's reach.
Slush flew from their heels as they twisted and carved their way across the ice.
Another stone arm fell, cleaved at the shoulder. The golemite staggered, its footing compromised on the treacherous terrain.
Then, with a sharp nod, Dilim made another move.
He hurled his broken sword with all his strength, aiming not at a limb, but directly at the where the highest concentration of energy gathered.
The blade spun through the mist and embedded deep into the golemite's chest, right where its core had pulsed during previous fights.
From behind the stone, Cain froze, eyes widening with confusion.
'What are they trying to do? I... I better be prepared.'
Flying the bee like drones in the air, he decided to monitor the battle closer.
The golemite reached up, appendages scrambling to dislodge the blade.
From the edge of the field, Midi planted his feet, roared, and hurled his own sword — a massive, flaming projectile arcing through the frozen mist.
It struck Dilim's embedded weapon with perfect precision.
A blinding light erupted.
Then came the explosion.
A firestorm of steam, frost, and raw energy tore through the air — an expanding dome of destruction nearly fifty meters wide.
The impact cracked the earth, melted the ice, and sent both giants tumbling across the battlefield.
Cain immediately laid flat despite him being at least a quarter kilometer away.
The twin swords had been socketed — one with a fire crystal, the other with ice.
With an engraving that would chase the other upon such dire circumstances, the reaction was catastrophic — a worth trump card indeed.
Smoke. Silence. And then...
Midi and Dilim exchanged a look.
Then, without a word, they both grinned and burst into laughter.
A genuine laugh — raw and triumphant.
It was a celebration of victory over a higher-tier foe, it wasn't just a small realm but a fighting across a major realm.
For them this was borderline impossible — a thought completely absurd idea when heard by others.
Cain watched them from the distance, silent.
To the two giants, the scattered ores weren't just remains of a shattered enemy — they were resources.
Raw potential. The beginning of something better. A new blade. A future reforged.
They believed in that.
Both had long dreamed of becoming soldiers of the Supreme Father Odin — divine guards standing watch over the tectonic throne.
Protectors of the highest order, carved from battle and loyalty.
Cain smirked, just a little. Their naivety almost made him laugh too.
He checked how much time he had, while his hand clutched into the detonator.
[00:07:21]
Detonating a bomb, all before the huge blast came off.