World Hopping With Gacha

Arthur's blade clashed against Sauron's with a deafening shockwave, the sheer force of impact sending tremors through the battlefield. Every strike Arthur launched was met with ease, Sauron deflecting each blow with a casual grace that felt unnatural, almost inhuman.

Arthur gritted his teeth—this wasn't the Sauron he knew. The Dark Lord moved with a power that seemed unbound by the laws of this world, his every motion precise, calculated, godlike. Arthur wasn't just fighting a Dark Lord—he was battling something far beyond his understanding.

For the first time in a long while, Arthur felt something deep within him—doubt.

Sauron let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, his fiery eyes gleaming with amusement as he loomed over Arthur.

"Impressive," he mused, his voice echoing like thunder. "You have lasted longer than even the Valar who opposed me. But it changes nothing."

He raised his massive blade, the air around it distorting under its sheer power.

"For soon, you too shall be nothing but dust beneath my feet—just. like. them."

His words carried absolute certainty, as if Arthur's fate was already sealed.

Arthur had anticipated that brute force alone wouldn't be enough, but now he understood why. His Narration and Maths Skill, which he thought would normally be his trump cards, were useless—Sauron's reality-warping powers far surpassed his own.

Sauron's power wasn't just manipulation—it was absolute authority over this world. And for now… Arthur was at a disadvantage.

---

This was no longer a battle.

It was a massacre.

Arthur was losing—no, he had already lost.

Arthur had fought monsters, gods, eldritch nightmares—but this? This was something else.

A walking apocalypse.

He had tried everything.

Excalibur? Deflected.

Rhongomyniad? Interrupted before activation.

Reality Manipulation Skills? Overpowered.

Tactics, weapons, magic? All useless.

Sauron was stronger. Better. Faster. Smarter.

And Arthur?

Arthur was dying.

A blackened blade came down—

SLASH.

His right arm was severed at the shoulder.

Arthur barely registered the agony before—

BOOM!

A brutal kick sent him flying back, his ribs shattering on impact. His body skidded across the bloodied battlefield like a ragdoll. Pain. Agony. Terror.

"Get up."

His instincts screamed at him, but his body Didn't move.

Sauron stalked forward, his molten eyes burning with cruel amusement.

"This is what you call a hero?"

Arthur coughed blood. His body felt like it was shutting down.

"Move… MOVE!"

He forced himself up—

CRACK!

A warhammer of blackened steel slammed into his left leg.

Arthur screamed.

His bone shattered instantly, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.

But it wasn't over.

Sauron grabbed him by the throat, lifting him like a broken toy.

"Pathetic."

Arthur struggled, his fingers clawing at Sauron's iron grip—

SNAP.

Sauron crushed his throat.

Arthur's vision blurred. His lungs screamed for air. His body convulsed as his mind faded.

"I'm… dying."

Sauron slammed him into the ground.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Cracks formed beneath Arthur's broken body.

He tried to breathe. Nothing.

His vision darkened.

His limbs twitched weakly.

This was it.

This was how he died.

All his power. All his strength.

And it wasn't enough.

Arthur had given up.

His body was shattered. His mind teetered on the edge of collapse.

He didn't want to move. He didn't want to fight. He just wanted it to end.

But Avalon refused.

The holy sheath pulsed with golden light, mending his wounds against his will, knitting together broken bones, repairing torn muscles, forcing his beaten body to regenerate.

"Stop..."

He didn't want to feel the pain again.

He didn't want to wake up to that nightmare.

But Avalon—Avalon wouldn't let him die.

---

Arthur's breath came in ragged gasps.

Even with Avalon's relentless healing, his body screamed in agony. His limbs felt like lead, his vision blurred, but he couldn't stop—not now.

Sauron wasn't slowing down.

If anything—

He was getting stronger.

"You are no Hero."

Sauron's voice boomed like thunder, his presence warping reality itself. A shockwave of pure darkness erupted from his form, twisting the air, distorting the ground beneath them.

Arthur's instincts screamed at him—

Move!

Too late.

BOOOOM!

The force slammed into him like a mountain, launching him through the ruins. Stone crumbled. Metal twisted. His body tore through debris, bouncing like a ragdoll before smashing into the wreckage of the ancient fortress.

CRACK!

Arthur barely rolled away as Sauron's massive greatsword impaled the ground where his head had been.

He countered—

Excalibur flashed forward.

Sauron caught it.

With his bare hand.

Arthur's eyes widened.

Sauron laughed in amusement.

And then—

A headbutt.

Arthur's skull split open, blood gushing down his face. His mind reeled, knees buckling.

Sauron's knee slammed into his gut—Arthur felt something rupture inside him.

Before he could react, a monstrous kick sent him flying across the battlefield.

Arthur hit the ground like a meteor, skidding across the ruined wasteland, coughing blackened blood.

He struggled to rise—hands trembling, body screaming.

He was matching Sauron.

But that was the problem.

Matching wasn't enough.

Sauron could keep going forever.

Arthur couldn't.

"If this keeps up… I'll lose."

Sauron sensed it.

The hesitation.

The doubt.

"You are not worthy of that blade."

Dark flames erupted along Sauron's sword, black fire consuming the battlefield.

"Die."

The blade descended.

Arthur reacted on instinct—

CLANG!

Excalibur met the strike—

Arthur's arms almost snapped from the impact.

"Think! THINK!"

He wasn't going to win by just trading blows.

He needed to change the battlefield.

He needed to turn the fight in his favor.

Arthur stopped blocking.

He started redirecting.

Every time Sauron swung, Arthur deflected at the last moment, using his enemy's immense power against him.

BOOM!

Sauron's own attack shattered the ground.

BOOM!

Another strike obliterated a stone tower.

Arthur used the destruction to control the battlefield, forcing Sauron into a collapsing warzone—one he could manipulate.

And then—

Arthur saw his chance.

The ruins of a fallen fortress.

Massive, towering debris hanging above them like a sword of Damocles.

Arthur lured Sauron in.

Step by step. Blow by blow.

Arthur took a stance, Excalibur in hand.

Not aimed at Sauron.

But at the fortress above them.

BOOOOOOOOOM!

Thousands of tons of stone collapsed, swallowing them both in an avalanche of destruction.

Buried beneath the ruins, the battlefield was now a twisted labyrinth of destruction.

No more space to dodge.

No more room for grand attacks.

This was a brawl.

Arthur vs. Sauron.

Face to face. Blade to blade.

Both injured.

Both pushed to their limits.

But only one would walk out alive.

Arthur's vision blurred as he stood amidst the wreckage.

His armor was shattered—golden plates cracked, stained with blood and soot. His left arm hung uselessly, nerves barely responding. Every breath came as a ragged gasp, each inhale sharp with pain.

Yet—

Sauron still stood.

Burned. Battered. But alive.

"What...don't like being tossed around on the battlefield?"

The dark lord loomed, wreathed in shadow and flame, his molten eyes burning with triumph.

"You fought well, mortal." Sauron's voice rumbled like an earthquake, shaking the ruined battlefield. "But this is where it ends."

Arthur grinned through bloody teeth.

"Yeah… it is."

Sauron raised his greatsword, black fire crackling along its edges, ready to cleave Arthur in half.

Arthur exhaled.

And he let go.

---

High above, standing atop a crumbling ruin, Arthur's last clone watched the battle unfold.

His emerald eyes locked onto Rhongomyniad, still embedded in the shattered ground, pulsating with power.

The clone's grip tightened around the legendary spear. His muscles tensed.

"This better work."

He hurled it.

Rhongomyniad ignited, a golden comet tearing through the sky, splitting through the storm clouds, a beacon of divine fury.

---

Sauron's blade came down.

Arthur didn't move.

The black steel pierced his chest—

Through skin. Through ribs. Through his heart.

A strangled breath left his lips. His body locked up, his strength vanishing.

But in that moment—

A blinding golden light exploded behind him.

Sauron barely had time to turn—

SHUNK!

Rhongomyniad tore through his chest.

His molten eyes widened in shock. His body convulsed.

The spear's holy energy surged, waves of divine radiance ripping through his very soul.

Sauron screamed.

The dark titan erupted into golden flames, his monstrous form disintegrating from the inside out. Black armor melted, shadows burned away, a soul unmade.

He tried to resist—to grasp at the fading tendrils of his own existence—

But it was too late.

Sauron was no more.

Arthur collapsed, his blood pooling beneath him. His vision darkened, his heartbeat fading.

His last thought?

"Worth it."

And then—

Darkness.

---

Arthur's eyes fluttered open.

He expected pain. Agony. The familiar weight of battle-worn exhaustion.

Instead—

Nothing.

His body felt… whole. No broken bones. No gaping wounds. Not even a dull ache.

"Am I… dead?"

He blinked a few times, trying to focus on his surroundings. It wasn't the battlefield. It wasn't darkness either.

It was—

A room. Strange yet familiar. A soft breeze flowed in from an open window, curtains shifting lazily. The scent of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air.

And standing over him—

A figure.

Tall. Dark-haired. Purple eyes.

A familiar smirk.

"You're late, idiot."

Arthur's breath caught in his throat.

His mind took a moment to process it. To believe it.

Relief crashed into him like a tidal wave.

"Utaha…" he mumbled, his voice hoarse, emotions swirling in his chest.

He reached out—

And got punched in the face.

THWACK.

"Ow—what the hell?!"

Arthur winced, rubbing his jaw as he snapped his gaze upward.

The figure crossed his arms, his face deadpan.

"Hey, I know you just got reborn, but I'm a grown-ass man. Don't confuse me with your girlfriend."

Arthur froze.

Squinted.

Took another good, hard look at the person standing over him.

And then—

Realization hit him like a speeding truck.

"Oh… You're me."

The clone sighed, rubbing his temples like he was dealing with a particularly dense child.

"No shit, Sherlock. Took you long enough."

Arthur groaned, throwing an arm over his face.

"Kill me again."

Arthur sat up slowly, rubbing his face as he tried to process his very unexpected reunion.

"So… what the hell happened after I died?"

His clone shrugged. "Simple. After your big, heroic sacrifice—"

Arthur scowled. "I wouldn't call it heroic. I got my ass handed to me."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, after you left Rhongomyniad behind, I picked it up and launched the final attack. Sauron got obliterated, the One Ring melted, and the world kinda… rebooted itself."

Arthur frowned. "Rebooted?"

"Yup. The corruption started fading, lands that were once dead are healing, and, oh yeah—people actually have hope now. Congratulations, you saved the world."

Arthur blinked. "Huh. That's… nice."

"Yeah. You're welcome."

Arthur sighed. "So… what now?"

His clone grinned.

"Now? You get to figure out how to explain this whole 'dying and coming back' thing to your girlfriend without making her lose her mind."

Arthur paled.

Arthur stammered, "O-Or we just don't tell her."

His clone gave him a flat stare. "Yeah, no. That's a horrible idea, because while you were sleeping, you were having nightmares and all that fun stuff. Pretty sure you've got PTSD now."

Arthur blinked rapidly. "Wait, what?!"

His clone crossed his arms. "You kept mumbling about Sauron, screaming, flinching in your sleep. Trust me, if you think you can just sweep this under the rug, Utaha's gonna take one look at you and know something's wrong."

Arthur groaned, rubbing his temples. "Great. Just great. First, I get brutally murdered, now I have emotional baggage. What's next?"

His clone smirked. "Telling your girlfriend the truth and getting scolded for being reckless."

Arthur visibly paled.

"I'd rather fight Sauron again."

Arthur's clone deadpanned, arms crossed.

Arthur awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "On second thought… telling her might be a better option."

The clone raised an eyebrow. "You think?"

Arthur sighed. "Yeah, yeah. No need to be sarcastic about it."

The clone grinned. "Oh no, I absolutely need to be sarcastic about it. You died, I had to clean up the mess, and now I get to watch you get scolded. This is the best entertainment I've had in ages."

Arthur groaned, rubbing his temples. "I really should've programmed my clones to be less of a pain in the ass."

Arthur's clone's expression hardened, his usual smirk fading into something more serious.

"There's one more thing you should know."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

The clone hesitated for a moment, then asked, "What do you know about Eru Ilúvatar?"

Arthur blinked. The name sounded familiar, buried somewhere in his fragmented knowledge of this world.

"...The creator of Arda? The god of that world?"

The clone nodded slowly. "Yeah. And it turns out… he knows about you."

Arthur froze.

"...What?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, 'knows about me'?"

The clone crossed his arms, his expression grim. "Eru Ilúvatar played a role in Sauron's overwhelming power."

Arthur's breath hitched. "Explain."

The clone exhaled. "Sauron wasn't just strong because of the Ring or his own might. Something—someone—allowed him to be stronger than he should've been. And after you died, I felt something… watching. Like we weren't supposed to win."

Arthur clenched his fists. "So the god of this world interfered?"

The clone's eyes darkened. "Looks like it."

Arthur's expression hardened. His mind raced through the possibilities, but none of them made sense.

"Why?" he muttered, more to himself than to his clone. "Why would Eru Ilúvatar empower Sauron… only to let me defeat him? It's contradictory."

The clone nodded. "Exactly. And there's more—Sauron didn't just grow stronger. He wiped out the Valar. He absorbed them. That shouldn't be possible. Unless…"

Arthur's eyes darkened. "Unless Eru allowed it."

A heavy silence followed.

Arthur clenched his fists. "So the real question is—why?"

Arthur's mind raced, piecing together the implications.

Eru Ilúvatar, the supreme creator, was supposed to be a distant force—one who rarely interfered directly. But if he had a hand in Sauron's rise and fall…

That meant everything had been deliberate.

"I don't like this," Arthur muttered. "If he wanted Sauron dead, he could've done it himself. So why go through all this trouble?"

His clone folded his arms. "I don't know. But one thing is clear—Eru was watching. And he's not done with you yet."

Arthur rubbed his chin, deep in thought.

"Maybe I should go back to Middle-earth… If Eru really had a hand in this, I might be able to meet him."

His clone scoffed. "Oh yeah, great idea. Just waltz back into a world where you literally died and hope the god of that realm wants a friendly chat."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Got a better plan?"

The clone hesitated. "…No. But at least be ready. If Eru set this up, he's expecting something from you."

---

Point out any mistakes you find.