Reincarnated Lord: I can upgrade everything!

The sheer force of Asher’s earlier clash had not left the behemoth unscathed. The Cyclops stumbled back, its massive frame smashing into the golden wall behind it with a resounding crash, sending golden bricks cascading like a fractured dam.

With a guttural roar that shook the city, Solvane—now fully transformed into the One-Eyed God—brandished his twin cleavers, their golden edges gleaming with an unnatural glow. He charged like a battering ram, the ground trembling beneath each thunderous stride as he bore down on Sirius.

The mighty white wolf inhaled, then unleashed a torrent of orange-blue flames, a searing wave of fire meant to halt the beast’s momentum. But Solvane burst through the inferno unscathed, arms crossed before him, cleavers shielding his eye like twin shields of divine wrath.

With terrifying speed, he swung one cleaver in a wide arc—aimed directly for Sirius’s skull.

But Sirius ducked beneath the killing blow and leapt, pouncing with primal fury. Its claws raked deep into the Cyclops’s flesh, drawing forth thick streams of blood. Solvane howled, not in pain—but in rage.

Releasing his cleavers, which stabbed deep into the earth like monuments of war, the giant grasped Sirius with both hands and hurled the beast with monstrous strength.

BOOM!

Sirius crashed into the city wall with cataclysmic force, shaking its foundations. Entire sections of battlements crumbled, and dozens of Everard soldiers were sent plummeting to their deaths, their screams lost beneath the storm of battle.

Solvane turned, retrieving his cleavers with a ground-splitting wrench. As he lifted them once more, he roared toward the Ashbourne army, a challenge issued not just in voice, but in unbridled wrath.

Just then, a crescent beam of ice lanced toward him, cutting through the air with a high-pitched screech.

He shattered it with a single swing—but it was only a feint.

Asher blurred past the broken ice, reappearing in a flash of silver light right behind the Cyclops’ neck, the Leviathan longsword gripped with both hands, poised to decapitate.

But the fatal blow never landed.

CLANG!

A titanic shockwave erupted, flattening nearby ruins and sending dust clouds exploding skyward. Solvane had blocked it, raising one cleaver in defense just in time.

Their weapons locked, metal against metal.

They stood as equals—two Legendary Awoken Ones, beings who could bend the external world with the pressure of their internal realms, though not yet summon their full inner worlds like the Fourth and Fifth Order Knights.

With a snarl, Solvane raised both cleavers high into the air, and brought them down like twin judgments from heaven.

Asher stood his ground, lowering his stance. The tip of his blade touched the earth, his body coiling with tension. He straightened his back, exhaled, and poured his mana into every fiber of muscle, every joint, every tendon—then exploded upward with a roar of steel.

BOOM.

The collision sent a roaring gust of wind rippling outward, flattening banners and rattling bones. For a moment, the battlefield froze. Even Ashbourne’s hardened warriors found themselves struck with awe.

That one man… could challenge a giant amongst giants.

A hushed reverence fell over the field—then was shattered by a war cry.

“Bring down Cyclox!” roared Galanar, voice booming like thunder across the ruins. His fur-padded cloak whipped around him like the pelt of a storm beast, and his mighty greatsword glinted as he charged forward, determination burning in his eyes.

The Ashbourne army surged behind him, a roaring tide of steel and conviction, their cry rising to the heavens.

Asher crashed into the ground, a hundred meters away, a long gully carved behind him from the sheer force of his impact. Dust billowed around the crater as he groaned, rising slowly, sword in hand. Blood dripped from his lip. His muscles ached, but his will remained unbroken.

With a grunt, he swung his Leviathan sword forward, releasing a surge of mana—an immense crescent beam of ice burst forth, whistling through the air like a blade forged from winter itself.

The Cyclops—Solvane—readied to evade, his foot tensing to move, when suddenly—his connection to the earth vanished.

The massive giant hovered, suspended, his eye wide in sudden realization. In that fleeting moment of weightlessness, the ice beam struck home, ripping through his side, carving a massive, jagged gash. Crimson blood erupted, splattering across the ruined battlefield.

But Asher wasn’t done.

He snapped the gravitational tether again, and the Cyclops crashed to the earth with a deafening boom.

Then lifted again—and slammed again.

And again.

And again.

Seven times in total, each impact tearing deeper into the already ruined land, forming a colossal crater around the giant’s broken body.

When Asher finally came to a stop, he was on one knee. Solvane, the mountain of flesh and fury was brought low, his chest heaving, thick sweat matting his skin as he laid flat in the crater.

All around them, the battlefield howled.

The clash of metal on metal. The roars of men. The roaring tide of war. Ashbourne and Everard forces collided, two tides crashing in violent fury, and only the stronger tide would remain standing.

Victory would not come without a price.

The Everard soldiers fought with desperation, their eyes wide with the knowledge that there would be no mercy. The Ashbourne army fought with burning resolve, blades singing for justice and vengeance. No matter how savagely evil lashed out… it would be purged.

A deep growl echoed across the crater, dragging Asher’s eyes back to the center.

Solvane was rising.

One massive foot braced against the shattered stone, then the other. The Cyclops lifted his cleavers, blood flowing from his wounds but hatred glowing in his eye.

Their gazes locked.

“Now, you shall die,” Solvane growled, each word like rolling thunder across the field.

Asher’s eyes narrowed. He gripped his sword—but something was wrong.

He pulled.

It barely moved.

He tried Again but the sword had grown monstrously heavy. Not from damage. Not from fatigue.

From Solvane’s inner world manipulation!

A horrifying realization struck him.

His sword—the Leviathan blade—now weighed dozens of tons.

At his current level, Asher could lift 15 tons with ease, and 25 at his limit. But this… this was far beyond him.

Then he staggered.

His knees buckled.

His armor…?!

It was like the weight of a mountain had suddenly settled onto him. His chest constricted. His breath caught. Every inch of his body screamed under the strain.

He couldn’t even stand.

The ground beneath his feet cracked from the pressure.

Asher’s face hardened, a shadow falling over his eyes.

‘I should have known.’

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