I regressed and became the Sword Ice King
Chapter 391 - 391- Festival 122- Raid on a Rainy Night 61

For a moment, time went still.

A motion so slow, it felt tangible to the Human skin. Causing freckles of goosebumps to spread at the surface while their insides churned tightly.

The tension broke in an instant. It cracked into a million pieces as the five silver balls hummed with a melodic hue. A cry of destruction setting its alarm to the world to know.

A cry to look out for what was to come.

Jane's gaze remained as it had a moment ago.

Hollow.

No shred of emotions threatened to reveal itself in his angelic, porcelain skin.

Wrinkles and scars seemed to have been sewn out of existence from his face, basking it in something new.

His focus was on an all-time high.

Drastically so.

Within his body, low and stern murmurs shook from time to time.

Cells erupt from the overload of pure godliness. Piercing its genetic code into oblivion with minute changes.

His body was slowly crumbling.

And if he didn't finish this quickly, it would continue until no cell was left to destroy.

With this in mind, buried deep in the chain of thoughts that riddled him, he turned the direction of his head forward. Glancing straight at Roland who charged at him in a get-go.

The orbs began to rotate at a drastically frantic speed, sparks of lightning igniting to life from the surface. Surrounding him like a second skin. Well, five layers anyway.

Each orb was a condensation of elemental magic. Water. Fire. Wind. Earth.

Pooled from the depths of his Mana circles to form this visceral form of transcendent power.

It was a skill he gained through enlightenment. Which was the most difficult method of obtaining a skill.

Not to talk of a Transcendent one.

The orbs hummed to life, each of the four Major Elements igniting to life around them.

Leaving one more that floated upwards to his chest.

The others continued to spin around, cyclically.

A vast amount of energy and wind pooled towards him like a hurricane.

Sound was sucked into a vacuum caused by the density of the Mana and wind that stood in the air.

Images turn to a blur, leaving just floating doodles to fight away for victory from afar.

Yet, to these two. Everything felt real.

Jane's body suddenly shook. A vibration that spread through him as a visual representation of his body seemed to have lifted up from his actual body– in a split second.

Inconceivable to the human eyes, but not to this Level 93 Magic Swordsman.

Roland felt his eyebrow twitch.

A visible curiosity and wariness take root in his expression.

Jane paid him no mind. At least not now.

He needed to focus.

This was his one last move. His only way of protecting himself and Darrell.

After this, he could be bedridden for days. Worse? A year.

That was just enough to fathom what he was actually doing. The disparity of the situation.

His decision to hold his ground to protect.

The thought caused him to flicker for a moment. A smirk formed across his face.

"Well, would you look at that…" He muttered to himself. An image of Raffaelo and the words he spouted that sounded absurd to him. "...Looks like you were on to something. Raph."

Roland finally closed the distance between them, an orb shooting out like a whip as it struck Jane with a thunderous blow.

The air whipped, the earth cracked and descended into a crater. The clouds split. Rain went to a halt. Reversing back to the skies instead of falling to the earth.

Mere destruction in wait.

Roland smiled.

This was it. This was more than enough to defeat the arrogant prick. But–

CRACK!

Time slipped back in motion. Playing at its levelled pace as Jane's body cracked under the pressure of the orb.

Shattering like a glass window.

Its crooked tendrils spread into the air. Into the atmosphere, cracking, breaking. Cutting into pieces what felt like reality.

A warped version of what was to be and what was never meant to be.

The pieces fell like shards into the air, slipping from onyx spacious openings. Deep as the eye can see. An abyss not meant to be peered into.

Roland's body shivered, yet he could not care less.

The orbs descended with their full brunt, another orb crashing into the orb that lodged into Jane's chest.

BOOM!

An explosion whipped into life, thunder and lightning screaming in a frenzy as the world turned to ash.

Dust particles fly across the air. An explosion that screamed like a Volcanic dragon. One awkward from its slumber, filled with the rage of a thousand poisoned needles.

It reached for the Staff Building which stood far away. A second, it stood. In another, it was gone.

Swallowed by the stretching dome of gas. Clawing its way into the sky in a giant mushroom.

Roland jumped out of the dust, unhurt and untouched by the severity of the explosion.

His body hovering in the air, over the expanse of the explosion.

He floated upwards. His gaze remained fixed on it as four orbs propelled out of the dust with him. Hovering over his sides and resuming its ridiculously quick spins.

His throat ran dry as he stated at the scene. His body appears as a pygmy to the growing dust of the explosion.

Jane should have died.

That had been his conclusion.

No one had seen that skill and lived to see the next day.

In fact, no one had pushed him to use that skill until now.

But the moment he did.

His heart pounded.

Excitement, primal and Raw, taking shape in his heart.

For a moment, he basked in the breeze of the wind as it blew past him. Striking against his handsome yet worn-out face.

His arms still clenched on his Executioner blade while his right stump swayed rigidly.

Victory had already been grasped.

Or so he thought.

At the periphery of his vision, a whisk of gold came to life and his head whipped to the direction.

Jaws clenched as his suspicions became reality.

Jane survived. Shirt torn, and trousers hanging loosely with charred edges.

He held the same level of godliness as he did a moment ago. In fact, it seemed to have doubled as his body glowed with a shimmering whitish-gold.

Confusion first played on Roland's face, but it was quickly overtaken by rage.

He burst forward in the air, blasting himself with enough energy to get to him. But his vision caught another golden flicker, and he forced himself to an abrupt halt.

'What?'

His eyes flared open in shock. When another golden flicker caught his attention.

He turned again. Found Jane. Yet, another. He turned. Found Jane. And again. Turned. Jane. Again. Turned. Jane. Again. Turned. Jane. Turned. Jane. Turned. Jane. Jane. Jane. Jane. Jane. JJJAAAANNNEEE????!

His shoulders raised and fell with the rhythm of his breathing. Rage turned to exasperation and a deep lingering fear as he turned around again and again.

Whipping his head in different directions. Spotting the same child that should have died a moment ago.

It wasn't a few. Not even a number he could count.

No, this was much worse.

The skies, above and below. His right and his left.

Everything and everywhere, all at once.

Jane stood.

Hovering in the air with the same clothing. Same pristine skin. Same glowing hair.

Shimmering cosmic powers in the depths of his eyes.

And that same condescending stare that they all had.

Every single one portrayed that same attribute.

He simply stood for a moment. Lost in thoughts. Lost in the confusion that began to spiral out of control.

He had lost it before, but he couldn't do that now.

This was much worse. This was a crisis.

Because these clones could all be real. Real enough to all be him and still not be him.

Yet, they could be fake. Fake enough that they would disappear the moment he touched them.

So which was it?

His eyes darted about for a moment. Adrenaline surged within as he rolled his shoulders.

'Doesn't matter. I'll tear through them all.'

He closed his eyes– gulped, and opened them once again.

Clarity returned to him in an instant.

Jane, or the Jane's all looked at him in unison. A slight chuckle escaped all of their lips. Projecting. Echoing. Stacking upon one another's voice until it became this voice of unity that would scare even Greater Demons.

Then he said, "This is the gift of the god, Loki."

The voice projected once again. Like a canopy of gods intertwining with one another without actually combining. Authoritative in all its forms.

"Roland Sunrise. We will now condemn you to your death. For your deeds, good and bad. The gods find you guilty."

They raised their arms in the air, an aura of golden surrounding their fists.

"The Reckoning."

In a heartbeat, they charged at him.

Flying through the air at an uncanny speed, fist readied for a final pound down of their foe.

Roland clicked his tongue, enveloped himself in mana and charged right back.

His orbs spun with shredded intensity. Firing one after the other through the hive of Jane's.

It screeched with speed. Untraceable with the naked eyes as it rushed past them.

In the blink of an eye, a chain of explosions followed in their wake.

Golden light mixed with silver ash erupted like fireworks into the night sky.

A canopy of Divine energy mixed with Transcendence in its primal form. Sending a world of quakes through the skies.

The rain split in an uproar. Scattering like lost sheep without a shepherd.

A far cry from the showdown that was yet to begin.

The clones of Jane's exploded with the least touch from the transcendent balls.

Smashed through bodies of gold, lining in order as they exploded from the cacophony of energy that mixed in diabolical amounts.

The sight was captivating, yet Roland seemed more interested in the act rather than the result.

His lips curled into a tight smile as he chuckled quietly.

'Of course.' He thought. 'They're all fakes.'