Life Of A Nobody - as a Villain-Chapter 460 : All hell breaks loose -2

Memories of murder, of mayhem, of monsters he hunted during the two years he was trapped in the dungeon..of the worst time period of his new life, flashed right through his mind, and it all made Rio mad.

His shadow sensed his bloodlust and immediately left the battlefield. Disappearing back into it's normal place. Leaving him and Aelthar all alone, face to face.

"You'll regret reminding me of that." Rio muttered, while biting his tongue to suppress the mental pain as he looked up at the god.

The god's passive illusion had only poured oil into the pyre of his rage. Fuming him further.

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<All God's real forms have a passive skill of sorts which can make them seem supreme when the mortals first gazes at them.

It could be anything like a normal god suddenly becoming a giant who can swallow the universe, a small worm seem like a dragon, or a werewolf whose claws can rip the cosmos – or suddenly showing mortals the hell or heaven, bringing the dead back to life, or just about anything else impossible – it's basically a skill which makes mortals despair and god's look outstanding.

It's a mental attack to scare the mortals. To show them the difference between them indirectly at first sight, so they don't forget their place.>

Aelthar saw Rio breaking the illusion and still had the ignorance to look up and challenge him, and couldn't help but sneer.

He didn't use his energy to form a spear this time.

He didn't need it, as a fog swirled through his fingertips and flowed towards his empty shoulder, forming a new hand.

One entirely made of fog and light.

"You're but a flickering ember, in front of a new dawn." The god spoke, his calm tone showing the confidence he felt in this battle now.

"I'll crush you like the bug you are." He said, raising his new arm with clenched fists, and punched through the sky.

The powerful force breaking the world of darkness, forming a hole in the barrier, and still going further to blast the clouds in the real world.

This _ was his power.

But Rio ignored his antics, as if nothing he did could ever scare him.

He lifted his hand with an open palm.

And the sword lying across the battlefield, still covered in the god's blood, trembled in response.

And then it was gone.

With a whip-like crack of displaced air, the blade materialized in Rio's grasp, its weight perfectly balanced in his palm, as if it had never left his grip at all.

"I don't usually use this," Rio muttered, his voice low,barely above a whisper. But still loud enough for the god to hear. "Because no one who sees it lives long enough to talk about it."

"Unless you're a friend or family…. Which you aren't." As Rio's words finished, his figure disappeared under the god's gaze.

Aelthar's senses shrieked in warning, but even he—an ancient god—was not fast enough.

A searing pain ripped across his side.

Then another.

And then another.

Before Aelthar could even search for the mortal's traces, a hurricane of blades fell on his golden figure from all directions. While Rio's body moved faster than a thought, each swing, each slash - was a death sentence.

Aelthar looked around and finally found Rio's pattern.

Before the next hit landed, he immediately turned his body and punched forward with his foggy hand.

The fist, colliding against the tip of the sword.

But then

To the god's horror, the sword passed right through his magical arm.

As if this slash ignored the energy, and hit only at the flesh.

It was only now did he realise that the mortal tricked him again. The lousy footwork, the constant slashes, _ they were all just baits to lure him into this.

But the wisdom came too late.

The sharp sword already plunged deep into his sealed shoulder, leaving a large new gash while opening the previous cuts, before being pulled back.

One attack – and his newly formed arm was gone once more.

This sword technique wasn't his usual one. It was unlike anything he had shown before.

And for the first time, the god's confidence faltered.

Yet Rio gave no thoughts to the god's bewildered look, his entire attention was entirely on killing the god.

Him appearing in his true form wasn't something he had expected in this battle, _ it totally caught him off guard.

And to not repeat that mistake again, he plans to end this fight ASAP.

Which is why he didn't even hesitate to show his true strength anymore. His speed which was already on par with the weakened God, had increased further, leaving only a blur in sight.

Aelthar was right, the sword technique he used now was neither the foundation art made by his father, nor the star art he found in the academy libraries – it was something he made himself.

Well, not entirely.

This sword art was something the original Rio had created after living through the countless assassination attempts, and surviving hundreds of life and death battles.

A technique the devil later used to massacre the gods and spread his terror.

This was a technique whom the author himself called the penultimate of the sword styles.

(Obviously the ultimate sword art in the novel is something Leon creates later.)

With only one arm, it became even harder for Aelthar to dodge or defend against Rio's attacks.

Sometimes he couldn't see from where the mortal slashed, and when he did, his missing arm left him open.

In another few seconds the god was forced into a corner. Constantly stepping back and moving here and there trying to dodge or disappear.

While his body constantly suffered through many such slashes.

From shoulder to ribs

Ribs to thighs

Back to hips

And then, a swing straight across his chest.

Each slash was carving open his golden flesh.

Causing a pool of golden blood to form wherever the god passed.

None of his strikes were elegant. None looking beautiful like a fairy's dance, or mesmerizing like the divine's grace.

If anything, they were butchery.

Each swing, each slash, every little movement of his body, from how his hands moved to where his feet landed - all of it, were just _ to kill.

Aelthar also pulled out another spear sometime during the battle again, competing against the mortal in melee. Yet his strength and speed were far less than what he had at the beginning of this battle.

Rio was right, the god only had a fixed amount of energy, and slowly, it was running out.

Aelthar also sensed this and he couldn't help but roar in anger. His eyes brimming with flames, hoping to burn everything in sight.

A burst of fog wrapped all around him. Slowly spreading outwards.

And as soon as the god sensed something enter his domain, he immediately turned every particle of mist into blades, - tens, hundreds, and then thousands of them.

Knowing the mortal had means to turn light into dark, Aelthar dared not pour too much of his energy into it. Lest he gets pulled in another world of night.

Yet what each blade lacked in power, their numbers made up for it.

Whenever the god sensed any movement in the fog, he'd swing his arm and rain down the foggy blades in that direction.

A mortal should've died at once.

Anyone should have.

But even then the god didn't let go and kept barraging the blades for a dozen times more. Hoping to make mincemeat out of that damned brat.

Yet as he raised his arms to make the fog disappear, what appeared in front of him _ was the face of that demon.

Rio was covered in blood from head to toe, dozens of slashes across his skin.

While different colors of blips floating in air, signaling the many barriers he used and Aelthar's attack had broken down, before finally reaching him.

Yet it was all futile.

Had the god done it a few more times, maybe Rio really would've turned into mincemeat. But there was no medicine for regret.

Before Aelthar could summon his fog once more, a sword pierced his body.

The god gasped in pain, golden ichor spilling from his lips.

"You're slow." Rio muttered, as he pinched the god's face while twisting his sword.

Aelthar looked at Rio's face so close, while gazing into those bloody red eyes, and a feeling that he was the lesser being, the ant, the bug - couldn't help but crawl into his soul.

…

As his gaze shifted to the side when Rio let go of his face, that feeling of inferiority suddenly disappeared too.

But that one second, _ that one moment _ it broke Aelthar's very beliefs of superiority.

A blow to his very existence.

An illusion, a mistake - it didn't matter. This one thought had fumed Aelthar's anger to a new level.

"I AM A GOD."

He screamed loudly, as his body exploded in another blast of power, his energy surging once more to the skies.

His roar echoed in the dungeon, as if only by this shouting response could he calm down the question in his heart.

He looked at Rio in front of him, struggling to keep his feet on the ground. - and raised his arm.

Pulling the mortal body by force till his fingers wrapped around that tiny throat like ankles.

His fingers tightened as he lifted him off the ground, bringing his face in front of him once more.

"You _ would not exist." The god muttered, as Rio started choking and struggled to breath.

His thoughts slowed down and his vision was getting blurry _ but in between his blinks, he noticed a familiar figure fast approaching their battlefield.

He tried to shake his head, to warn the foolish girl to turn back, yet no words came out….

And then, _ it was too late.

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Author note - Woah, this was some good stuff ahh.

So Katherine finally appears huh.

What do u think is gonna happen next? She gonna save Rio? Or is she gonna be like one of those gals who wants to help but are just burdens to hero?

Share ur thoughts bitches