Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

"KILL!"

At the command, countless soldiers surged forward, their battle cries reverberating as they charged toward Rhodes. Their combined momentum formed an oppressive barrier of power and determination.

Rhodes, unhurried and calm, reached into his pocket and retrieved a small pouch of white powder. With deliberate motion, he scattered it into the air toward the oncoming monsters.

"I grant you my blessings for your final journey. Everything shall return to nothingness."

As his words faded, a massive magic array ignited beneath his feet, glowing an ominous red. Its energy pulsed with a terrifying aura, consuming Rhodes as it activated.

"Susanoo!"

In an instant, skeletal armor began to materialize, wrapping around Rhodes like a fortress. Within seconds, a towering figure emerged, a behemoth clad in bones standing before an army of 400,000.

The sight was otherworldly, a visage of death incarnate.

"Is that the Grim Reaper? Am I looking at Death itself?" someone muttered, their voice trembling.

Rhodes rose slowly, his colossal form casting a shadow over the battlefield. His gaze bore into the soldiers, unyielding and merciless.

"I will give you one chance," he announced. "Use your strongest, most powerful magic against me. If you succeed in harming me, I will let you go."

A pause followed before he added, "You have five minutes."

The soldiers hesitated, their morale shaken by the impossible challenge. Among them, one of the six great magicians gripped his staff tightly. Unlike others, he was painfully aware of the futility of resistance. Yesterday's events had eradicated any lingering thoughts of victory.

Yet desperation overruled reason. The magician raised his staff, summoning an ancient spell. As a great magician, he had mastered the art of holy-level magic, a power said to rival demigods.

"By the power of the heavens and earth, I summon the frost of the gods! Cold Death!"

An intense chill filled the air, and frost began to spread from the magician's staff. The icy mist expanded rapidly, freezing the ground and enveloping everything in its path. The cold crept toward Rhodes, frost crystals forming beneath his feet.

The army erupted in cheers. Their prince, jubilant, exclaimed, "Hahaha! I thought you were invincible, but you're just a fraud! This is the end for you!"

Rhodes remained silent. The frost beneath him glistened, but it was powerless against him. He stepped forward, shaking off the frost as if brushing away dust.

"Large-scale magic like this always has a flaw: insufficient impact," Rhodes said flatly. "Your frost can cover vast areas, but against me, it is meaningless."

He turned his gaze to the frost magician, his tone coaxing yet commanding. "Join me, and I will show you the pinnacle of magic. What you've spent your life pursuing will be within your grasp."

The magician hesitated, torn between loyalty and survival. His gaze flickered toward his comrades. Their holy-level magic, capable of wounding demigods, had failed utterly. The massive meteorite they had conjured earlier had crumbled like a pebble against Rhodes.

The decision was clear.

---

Rhodes straightened, his skeletal form towering over the battlefield. The legendary Grass Pheasant Sword appeared in his hand, its blade shimmering with magical energy. With a surge of power, the blade elongated, radiating an intense blue light.

"Accept divine judgment," Rhodes intoned.

He swung the sword, unleashing a wave of energy that ripped through the enemy ranks. The blue light carved a path through the army, leaving devastation in its wake.

Blood painted the sky as death claimed thousands. The battlefield was consumed by the scent of blood, a chilling reminder of mortality.

Panic spread like wildfire. Soldiers abandoned their weapons and fled, their courage shattered. Even those who had sought refuge in the safety of the city trembled as they witnessed the destruction.

Rhodes allowed the survivors to escape, knowing that fear and rumors would serve his purpose better than slaughter.

As he surveyed the field, a trembling voice called out. One of the great magicians, Kentai Li, stepped forward. His face was pale, but his resolve was evident.

"Sir, I seek refuge under your command," he said, bowing deeply. "I have witnessed your might, and I wish to serve you. I am even willing to become a slave if you can teach me the path to your power."

Rhodes regarded him with approval. A man of ambition and fear, willing to submit for the sake of knowledge and survival, was a valuable asset.

He turned his gaze to the remaining magicians. "What about the rest of you? Will you join me in building a world of peace and stability?"

The frost magician, shaken but resolute, stepped forward. "I will serve you, my lord. Now and forever."

A faint smile played on Rhodes' lips as he looked at his new recruits. His victory was complete, not just through brute strength, but through fear, persuasion, and dominance.

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