The whipping winds came to a grinding halt.

Beaming sunlight reflected off of the plates of armor. Bright silvers and delicate blacks alternated along its elaborate patterns. Just its presence alone seemed to make time itself stop, an eerie stillness hanging all around it.

As the halo passed over Leonel’s head, it was slowly covered by a helmet, sealing away his handsome, indifferent features.

A light clicking locked everything into space. As though it had come alive, the armor shrunk a size, clinging to Leonel’s armor as though it was nothing more than a second skin.

This was the true ability of Divine Armor. It didn’t function like a normal armor would. For all intents and purposes, it had become a living, breathing part of Leonel’s body.

When it was damaged, it would be repaired. When it moved, it would have a flexibility other armors couldn’t match. Its power was now Leonel’s own, its presence Leonel’s presence.

Leonel ripped his spear out from the ground, the world quaking beneath his benign action.

White gold wings spread along Leonel’s back once more. The contrast between his silver-black armor and them seemed to dazzle the world. However, whatever absentmindedness one could have had vanished when Leonel suddenly shot forward.

In a blink, he was already above Alexandre. Without any aid, he stepped into the air as though it was as easy as breathing, his spear descending with such forcefulness that one would have thought that his goal was to split the planet below rather than the man before him.

Alexandre’s pupils constricted. He was able to fly not because of an ability, but because of World Force which granted him such a strength. This was the first time he had seen someone who shouldn’t have a flying ability do so.

None of the reports he had received ever mentioned this armor, nor did any mention his ability to fly. It was clear that this was a trump card that Leonel had left hidden just for this exact moment.

Alexandre reacted quickly, his palm shooting outward toward Leonel’s blade just as it always had.

But, in that moment, he suddenly felt as though his hand was moving through a wall of wind or a depth of quicksand. It slowed considerably even though he felt it was moving just as fast as it originally was.

The cognitive dissonance threw him for a loop. However, it was then an alarming sense of danger shook him to his core.

Without hesitation, he shot backward.

Leonel’s spear descended. In one moment, it was before Alexandre’s palm. But, in an act that could only be said to break the laws of reality, it appeared past it in the next instant. It didn’t even seem to have teleported. Somehow… it felt that it had always been there.

Alexandre’s dodge came just in time, but he was too late to stop his Kingly robes from being torn in two, a shallow line of blood running down his chest.

Alexandre’s acceleration met the same muddy pastures. It was as though he was locked down from all sides. No matter where he moved, how he moved, or how much effort he put into it, it felt as though his speed had been cut down drastically.

The sight of the Apex suddenly finding himself on a backfoot left those watching stunned. To a degree, these even included those of the rebel army. But, very soon, they began to roar at the top of their lungs, emotions they had been bottling up for decades bubbling forth.

Leonel’s spear spun in his hands.

Through the air, he took slow and deliberate steps forward, bearing down on Alexandre.

His spear lashed out, splitting into two of its three parts. The blade shot forward like an arrow, completely unaffected by the same slow in speed Alexandre was. In fact, it seemed to have become even faster than it would be normally.

Alexandre put up his barrier once more. The only way he had managed to keep his head all this time was by protecting his body from all sides like this.

However, just when he was expecting the blade to pierce at his chest, it vanished, a massive pressure slicing into the shield to his back.

The sight left the nobles in horror. By now, they were absolutely certain. It was a spatial ability, and a devastating one at that.

Leonel’s chain snapped back into place, but in one fluid motion, he spun the opposing side forward sending another chain snaking forth.

What began as a slow, methodical approach became a torrential assault in the blink of an eye. The sound of snapping and retracting chains rang through the battlefield, shadows of grey and silver whipping about as Leonel practically used the supposed king for target practice.

Alexandre’s expression darkened. As though he was hiding in a turtle shell, he could only take the endless barrage, the sound of clanging metal ringing in his ears endlessly.

Looking at the armored figure standing in the skies even above him, his heart filled with intent to murder. It had been a very long time since someone truly thought to test his sovereignty.

He had never really counted Normand. In his eyes, such a man was nothing more than a rat struggling on his very last breath, a rodent caught in a trap without even the slightest chance to escape.

However, this was very different. This sort of assault on his rulership was unprecedented.

He was Alexandre the Apex. This world was nothing more than a stepping stone to him. There would come a day where he ruled this universe and would become the true Apex of all!

Alexandre roared, what remained of his robes shattering to reveal a powerful and toned torso.

The singular line of red running down it quickly healed, a large pillar of light descending from the skies.

At that moment, he truly evoked his Apex Title, his strength soaring.

He tore a trail forward through Leonel’s Domain, his palms squeezing into fists.

With a single punch forward, a golden fist appeared in the skies. It felt as though the world might collapse at any moment.