"This...!"
Grom swings his miasma axe mid-turn. The pitch-black blade clashes against the demigod's fist.
A piercing metallic ring. The fist remains unscathed, but the axe warps and twists from the point of contact.
A spatial magic attack. By enveloping the target in a distortion, it destroys whatever it touches.
That must have been how the evidence in the underground magical workshop was obliterated. Defense against it was virtually impossible.
The best counter would be spatial magic of equivalent output, but that was hardly realistic. Evasion seemed the only practical option.
The fist, having bent the axe, continues onward toward Grom as if to bore straight through him.
Grom releases the axe and staggers backward, his body arching away.
"Grrraagh!"
Grom flashes both sword and spear forward in a single sweeping motion.
The demigod who had been in the attack's trajectory vanishes.
Of course, he was not cut down. He had teleported before the blow could land.
The demigod was directly above Grom. Spinning in midair, he unleashes an axe kick.
Grom crossed his weapons to block it.
Watching them twist, he drew in a breath.
Then, he unleashed a torrent of miasma fire from his mouth.
The black flames erupted in a fan-like spread, threatening to engulf the demigod.
Without hesitation, Grom ascended into the sky.
His leg was severed, left behind on the ground.
It was the demigod's doing, having appeared behind him.
A clean chop with the edge of his hand.
Likely an application of space magic.
He must have used a fault in spacetime as a blade to target the leg.
It was only natural that physical defenses were useless against such an attack.
Furthermore, the demigod was unharmed.
Even the miasma fire seemed to have been avoided via teleportation.
From his vantage point in the air, Grom began hurling miasma weapons down.
They pierced the ground one after another, triggering massive explosions.
The demigod charged straight through their midst.
He moved as if kicking off the air itself, hurtling forward.
The miasma weapons and explosions were no impediment.
As the demigod closed in on Grom, he drew back his arm.
The preparatory motion for a thrust.
Seeing this, Grom assumed a defensive stance.
In the next instant, a piercing hand drove into his back.
Grom pitched forward with a low groan.
"Guh... guuuhh..."
The demigod was in front of Grom.
It wasn't in a position to attack from behind.
Yet, one of the demigod's outstretched arms was missing from the elbow down.
Only that severed portion was floating behind Grom, embedded in his back.
A bizarre sight, but it was no illusion.
This was unquestionably happening in reality.
(It manipulated the connection of space.)
I inferred from the flow of mana.
This was a technique far more advanced than mere teleportation.
For a demigod, distance was irrelevant.
It could be considered capable of attacking instantly from anywhere.
If I had challenged it without knowing this, I would have been utterly deceived.
Knowing its method of attack in advance like this was a significant advantage.
Grom's selfless effort was already bearing fruit.
"Guh, hah...!?"
While I was watching, a hole opened in Grom's torso.
It was the hand of the demi-god that obliterated them.
No matter how robust the defensive enchantment, it seemed the hand could pierce through.
A mere touch would prove fatal.
Grom twisted his body, attempting to grasp where his torso had been vanished.
But the demi-god's hand withdrew and disappeared.
Looking again, it had returned to its original position.
It seemed the spatial connection had been severed.
"What a petty trick...!" snarled Grom.
Furious, Grom regenerated his eight types of weapons.
Wielding them left and right, he lunged at the demi-god with the speed of a gale.
But he came to an abrupt halt just before the demi-god.
No, to be precise, he didn't stop.
He was still inching forward, ever so slightly.
His speed had drastically diminished.
"..."
The demi-god watched this, merely holding a hand outstretched.
Grom swung his weapons with desperate might, but they could not reach.
(Is that... stretching space itself?)
Visually, nothing had changed.
The distance between them, it seemed, the demi-god had stretched to an inconceivable length.
If this were a normal situation, the distance would be close enough to close in immediately, but the demi-god was forcibly extending it.
"That should be enough. It was futile after all," murmured the demi-god, waving his hand.
A distortion of space appeared, and Grom's torso was severed cleanly in two.
Then, cut apart one after another, he was reduced to a fine powder.
Just when almost no trace of his original form remained, he began to fall.
(Overwhelming strength. The title of demi-god is no mere decoration.)
In terms of pure power, Grom was superior.
This was purely a gap in ability.
Spatial magic was far too unreasonable.
The ability to unleash such techniques repeatedly was not within the realm of humans.
And yet, the demi-god had hardly shown any signs of exhaustion.
He had demonstrated perfection in both offense and defense.
(As I thought, I must be the one to defeat him.)
Just as I resolved this, I felt a single sense of dissonance.
My consciousness and gaze turned toward Grom's remains.
From the fingertips of the falling remnants, a miasma extended like a filament.
Hundreds of times finer than a spider's silk.
Normally, one would hardly notice it.
I had only discovered it by chance.
Because I had become accustomed to the miasma, I perceived it.
The threads were so infinitesimally fine they were nearly imperceptible.
Grom's finger curled.
Following his movement, the miasma thread drew taut.
I traced the line of the thread with my gaze.
At its end was the undead's arm.
It was wrapped there, layer upon layer.
Naturally, the undead remained unaware.
Then, as the pulling force increased, the threads tightened.
Seeming to sense it then, the undead lowered its face, eyes widening.
But it was already too late.
In the next instant, one of its arms was severed and sent flying through the air.