Multiverse: Becoming a Giant of Light, Godslayer from the Start

The night passed without incident.

It wasn't until the next afternoon—when Su Mo was already aboard his return flight—that news finally arrived from the Sardinian magic association: the King of Swords, Salvatore Doni, had made it.

Upon hearing this, Erica let out a sigh of relief. At least he'd arrived within the deadline. That meant her lord probably wouldn't toss this fellow god-slayer into the Earth's core. She still vividly remembered what Su Mo had said the day before: "If he doesn't arrive within two days, bury him in the planet's core." And she had no doubt Su Mo was entirely capable of following through on that.

So, she felt somewhat reassured—there wouldn't be an unfortunate incident of god-slayer-on-god-slayer violence. As for the King of Swords? Well, getting beaten up by their lord was no big deal—as long as Su Mo's dignity remained intact. In fact, Erica would even prefer her lord to teach that blockhead a lesson.

Upon returning to Sardinia, Su Mo headed straight toward his previous lodging, guided by information from the local magic association. Sure enough, near a seaside villa, he spotted a young man with short blond hair and sunglasses, deep in thought as he stared out at the sea—split in two by Su Mo's sword the day before.

He appeared completely absorbed by it. There was no doubt—this man was the King of Swords.

Sensing Su Mo's presence approaching, Salvatore Doni turned and glanced his way. At first, he assumed it was more magic association personnel bothering him again. But the moment he saw Su Mo, his gaze changed.

It was the look a warrior gives to another of his kind. God-slayers weren't easy to recognize by appearance alone. In fact, even the seasoned Marquis Voban had once mistaken Lady Aisha for an ordinary human. But when it came to warriors, their instincts allowed them to identify one another—even without formal introductions.

Especially at this time, in this place.

A smile lit up Doni's face as he greeted Su Mo with boundless enthusiasm.

"Yo! You must be the newly born comrade—my dearest friend, Su Mo!" Even though Su Mo had mentally prepared himself for this encounter, he still felt a vein pop in his forehead.

"You don't even know what I look like, and you're calling me your dearest friend? That's a strange way to define friendship."

"So tell me—do I even know you?"

"That's irrelevant," Doni replied with a carefree grin. "Calling someone a 'friend' but meaning 'rival'—that's the popular thing nowadays, right?"

"And whether we know each other or not, a good sparring match and we'll be close in no time!" His words sounded friendly, but the intent behind them was pure combat. The kind of person who could laugh cheerfully while swinging a sword at you—this was exactly the type Su Mo expected him to be.

Erica stepped forward to offer a polite greeting. "Lord Salvatore, I'm glad to see you've returned safely." Although she and Liliana had already pledged loyalty to Su Mo, their magic association still fell under Doni's nominal rule. Naturally, they were familiar with him.

"Oh, right—you're Alan Ivanovich, I think?" Doni scratched his head and tossed out a random name. "You couldn't be more wrong. My name is Erica Blandelli," she replied, her formal smile cracking slightly. Not even one part of the name was correct.

"Ah, got it!" Doni nodded dismissively, clearly having no intention of remembering. Compared to the so-called genius knight, his attention was clearly more focused on Su Mo.

"My dear friend! I heard you promised a duel if I showed up in time. Since I'm here, you're not backing out, are you?" For a god-slayer, the ideal opponent was an heretic deity. Not only could they fight without holding back, but victory often meant gaining divine authorities as rewards.

However, such gods weren't easy to encounter. It wasn't uncommon to go a decade or more without seeing one. So, battle-hungry types like Doni naturally turned their attention toward their fellow god-slayers. His record of getting beaten up was quite impressive—he'd been pounded by both Marquis Voban and the Martial King Luo Hao.

This time, he had his sights set on Su Mo. Conveniently, Su Mo was also looking for him. With prior conditions set, Su Mo had no reason to back down.

"No problem. In fact, I came here for something too," Su Mo said, a mysterious smile playing on his lips. Doni didn't quite understand what he meant, but he could sense a trace of malicious intent. Rather than deter him, it only made him more excited.

"Great! You agreed so quickly—you might be my type after all, my dear friend!" He pulled out a cylindrical case from his back. Seaweed clung to the outside—evidence of his underwater trek.

Opening it, he revealed a long sword. It was an ordinary mass-produced blade, around 80 centimeters in length. But the moment it entered Doni's hand; it exuded an unmistakable sense of danger. He hadn't even taken a stance—his form was riddled with openings. Yet it felt like no matter how you attacked, you'd be instantly countered.

"So eager to get started, huh?" Seeing Doni already in a dueling stance, Su Mo sighed lightly.

"Of course!" Doni grinned, brimming with fighting spirit. "From the moment I saw that sword slash you left on the ocean, I knew you were no ordinary swordsman."

"To cleave the sea without using any authority, and leave that mark lingering for days... Even that Eastern Grandmaster probably couldn't do it!"

"And if I'm not mistaken, you're from the East too, aren't you?"

"No wonder your swordsmanship is extraordinary."

"To be honest, it's taken all my willpower just to wait this long!"

Doni was a pure warrior through and through. Faced with someone whose swordsmanship was so refined, he couldn't help but want to cross blades. In terms of technique, he was near the top of the world. Even when compared to the Martial King Luo Hao, his swordplay was not inferior. But with Su Mo's emergence, he had clearly been pushed down a notch. He had no interest in fame—but swordsmanship? That was something he couldn't ignore. As Doni's fighting spirit surged, Su Mo had no reason to decline.

He instructed Erica, Liliana, and the other association members to retreat to a safe distance. In his palm, a translucent golden sword took shape—one of the manifestations of his [Eastern God of War] authority: the Golden Sword, signature power of Verethragna. This time, however, he wasn't using it to seal Doni's powers. It was just a weapon for the duel.

After all, against someone like Doni, neither Erica's Cuore Di Leone nor Liliana's II Maestro would survive a real clash—they'd be cleaved in an instant.

"A sword match, huh?" Doni's eyes gleamed.

Very few could match him in swordsmanship. He didn't dare challenge the Martial King, but with this new god-slayer's brilliance on full display—how could he not be thrilled? So, he too refrained from using his divine powers. And thus, their duel began—purely a clash of swordsmanship.

The golden sword, not empowered by divine words, was average in sharpness. It had been forcibly materialized from a divine concept and repurposed as a mundane blade—hardly optimal. As a result, it was evenly matched against Doni's mass-produced longsword. Their weapons canceled each other out. All that remained was raw technique.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Their swords clashed in rapid succession, blurring into a storm of steel. Within a single breath, they exchanged an uncountable number of strikes.

Doni's footwork was light, his sword style intuitive and unpredictable—an art of pure instinct. Su Mo's swordplay, on the other hand, was bold and majestic—capable of cleaving mountains and splitting oceans. Thanks to the Holy Grail's enrichment, he had absorbed techniques from various Heroic Spirits. Combined with the ground-shrinking techniques learned from Okita Souji, his movements were seamless and overwhelming.

Golden sword-light crashed forward like an iron curtain, crushing down upon Doni. Even a famed swordsman like the King of Swords began to falter. Moreover, Su Mo's physical prowess—enhanced by countless shared powers—far surpassed ordinary god-slayers. He hadn't reached Herculean levels, but he was leagues above average.

Stronger physique, superior technique, faster footwork—Su Mo crushed his opponent in every aspect. Even with nothing but simple sword swings, Doni was already starting to lose ground. Seeing this, Doni grinned.

"The physical gaps too unfair. Mind if I even things out a bit?"

Since this was a duel of swordsmanship, losing purely due to physique would be too anticlimactic.

He muttered a divine incantation under his breath. "O blood of the evil dragon Fafnir—grant me the fate of the undying!" It was the authority of Siegfried, the dragon-slaying hero—bestowed after bathing in the blood of the Fafnir.

In the Fate world, this manifested as the Noble Phantasm Armor of Fafnir. But in the world of god-slayers, it took form as [Man of Steel]—a divine power that granted the user the hardness and weight of steel. Not only did it bolster defense, but it amplified physical strength and attack power by leveraging a steel-like frame.

"Let's go another round!"

Now that the physical gap had been closed, Doni charged forward once more, determined to turn the tables with technique alone.