Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

The voice of Ozymandias's interrogation surged forward and carried on the overwhelming tide of magical power.

Under the pressure of such immense magic, Alaric felt as though he stood atop a stormy sea, ready to be engulfed by towering waves at any moment!

 Yet, Alaric remained utterly calm, his expression serene:

 "The Sword of End is about to break. It has only one use left, and I must save it for the final battle."

Six months ago, Alaric might have struggled to stand firm—or even faltered in fear—in the face of such terrifying magic from Ozymandias.

 But Alaric of today was different. Having endured countless trials, only an existence surpassing the Lion King could now shake him to his core.

Tap. Tap.

 Ozymandias descended from his throne, stepping down to stand at the same level as Alaric once more.

Now, just like their first clash six months ago, they stood in opposition to one another.

 However, Ozymandias did not strike immediately. Instead, he let out a booming laugh:

 "HAHAHAHA! The holy sword the Lion King gave you is damaged? How pathetic! How could a treasure bestowed by a king upon his subject be so useless?"

Even Ozymandias couldn't help but laugh.

 The idea that the Lion King's great treasure had broken so easily was simply absurd.

Alaric responded calmly:

 "After all, it's a holy sword that was created hastily. Its lifespan was always limited—

 But even without the sword, I can still exchange a few blows with you, King Ozymandias!"

Alaric adjusted his stance, drawing his blade as crimson magic instantly dissolved into a pitch-black radiance.

The starlight radiating from the magic was like a final requiem, utterly different from the crimson magic of dragonkind's ascension. This black radiance exuded a profound sense of malevolence, layers of chaotic emotions piling up until they twisted into something unrecognizable.

Even Ozymandias raised an eyebrow at this unfamiliar sight, witnessing for the first time Alaric's black magic being unleashed:

 "Sir Alaric, what's the meaning of this? What's happened to your magic?"

In Ozymandias's memory, Alaric's magic had always been crimson—a manifestation of the Dragon's Core, symbolizing his connection to the Lion King and his inhuman nature.

 But this black radiance stood in complete opposition to that. It was the pinnacle of humanity.

Even Ozymandias couldn't discern the mysteries hidden within this magic.

Alaric, too, seemed puzzled:

 "I don't know either. It's strange—it just appeared. Ever since I took hold of the Sword of End, something within me seems to have changed. Neither the Lion King nor the First Hassan's could explain it."

For now, Alaric could only set aside his quest for answers. If he couldn't survive the world's end, the truth would be meaningless.

"How boring," Ozymandias said dismissively. Seeing that even Alaric didn't understand the change, the Pharaoh abandoned further questioning. He strode forward with a laugh:

 "Before Chaldea arrives, let's see if you're worthy enough to warm me up!"

Before his voice had fully fallen, dazzling white beams of light erupted from the void in all directions!

 Ozymandias, the divine ruler of the earth, wielded a power few could rival.

 But this time, the opponent standing before him was a monster born outside the realm of humanity—

Clang!

 As the beams of brilliant light surged forth, a black crescent moon swept through them, swallowing all radiance in an instant and defiling the Pharaoh's sunlight, the embodiment of the sun god.

Alaric's gaze locked onto Ozymandias, his eyes shining with a gem-like glimmer.

No words were exchanged.

Alaric simply stared, focusing on the dense web of death lines covering Ozymandias's body. He activated his Mystic Eyes of Death Perception to observe the Pharaoh.

The number of death lines on Ozymandias had doubled compared to one month ago.

 Anyone killed by the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception would return to the embrace of death itself, and not even Ozymandias, with his pseudo-immortality provided by the Great Temple, could escape its effects.

His body now hovered between life and death, drastically impairing his combat capabilities.

 If Ozymandias fought in his current state, he could only exert 70% of his full power!

Unaware of these details, Alaric simply noted the proliferation of death lines on Ozymandias's body.

A flash of lightning!

 If it was a battle, then there must be exchanges of blows!

With a muffled sound, Alaric shot forward like a streak of light, charging directly at Ozymandias.

"HAHAHA! Sir Alaric, has your skill not improved at all?"

 Ozymandias laughed as he watched Alaric rapidly approach.

Suddenly, divine energy erupted from Ozymandias.

 It was the same godly aura as the Lion King's—a testament to divinity!

Faced with the divine aura, Alaric endured the first wave of pressure. Under its radiance, he felt as though he stood beneath a blazing sun, surrounded by an endless sea of sand.

Yet, Alaric did not retreat. The godly aura unleashed by Ozymandias was still within his tolerable limits!

In an instant, information about Ozymandias filled Alaric's mind.

The Great Temple was a colossal structure, a fusion of multiple overlapping temples with awe-inspiring grandeur. Its length spanned several kilometers, a breathtaking marvel of light and splendor.

Each temple within the complex held barriers and functions corresponding to different deities.

Beyond the pseudo-immortality granted by the temple and his mummified legend—making him unkillable within its confines—

 As the garden of the gods, Ozymandias could channel the mysteries of every Egyptian deity.

What he displayed now was but a fraction of his divine power.

 In this temple, Ozymandias was a true God-King.

Clang!

 With a single slash, Alaric instantly killed the oppressive divine aura surrounding him, leaving the temple air clear once more.

But Ozymandias's smile remained as he swung his scepter again.

 "Come forth! Abu el-Hol Sphinx!"

With a command bursting with divine authority, a massive figure emerged behind Ozymandias.

It was a Sphinx, similar in form to those Alaric had previously encountered, but entirely different.

Its body resembled the night sky—profound and vast.

As the Sphinx revealed its form, Alaric's pupils narrowed.

A grin crept onto his face.

In an instant, Alaric identified the creature Ozymandias had summoned.

A being both the avatar of the sky god Horus and a manifestation of raging fire and wind feared throughout the ages—

 The mythical beast of ancient Egypt: the Sphinx.

And the one standing behind Ozymandias was no ordinary Sphinx.

It was a royal species—The Abu el-Hol Sphinx, surpassing magical beasts and phantasmal creatures, equal to dragons.

With intelligence capable of devising battle strategies, each Abu el-Hol Sphinx could rival powerful Heroic Spirits. Even with its head destroyed, it would continue to fight!