Divine Mask: I Have Numerous God Clones

King Lionel's face twisted in fury and determination, his eyes burning with the resolve of a king who refused to lose. Gripping his Sacred Sword tightly, the blade gleamed with the blinding light of his nine-star power, radiating holy energy as if the sword itself was alive with divine fury.

Without a moment's hesitation, Lionel lunged forward, swinging his sword in a flurry of powerful strikes aimed directly at Lucas. Each blow was delivered with the strength to level mountains, the sacred energy radiating from the blade tearing through the air with deadly precision.

But Lucas didn't move.

The strikes landed one after another with bone-crushing force, yet Lucas stood there, unmoving, his posture calm and indifferent.

His body absorbed each blow, but to Lionel's growing frustration, it was as if the attacks didn't even touch him. Not a single cut, no sign of injury. It was as though the strikes were nothing more than a breeze.

Lionel's eyes widened in disbelief. Sweat trickled down his brow as he pulled back, breathing heavily from the relentless barrage. He stared at Lucas, his heart pounding with the realization that something was terribly wrong.

"How… how are you still standing?" Lionel's voice trembled with confusion, his disbelief clear. "You should be dead by now. No one can withstand the power of a nine-star!"

Lucas remained silent, his expression completely unchanged. A beat passed, then a slow, mocking smirk crept onto his lips. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he met Lionel's bewildered gaze, savoring the king's desperation.

"You're the one who's weak," Lucas finally replied, his voice low and filled with cold mockery. Every word cut through the air like a blade, dripping with disdain. His calmness in the face of such power was infuriating.

Lionel's face contorted in rage at those words, the veins on his neck bulging as his hands clenched around the hilt of his sword. The air around him grew tense with his fury, his aura flaring violently. "Weak?!" Lionel's voice boomed, his tone filled with pure venom. "I'll kill you, you insolent brat!"

With a roar of fury, Lionel raised his Sacred Sword once again, the blade crackling with renewed energy. His face twisted with pure determination as he channeled every ounce of his power into his next strike. The sacred energy of the kingdom surged through his body, enveloping the sword in radiant light as he prepared to unleash his most powerful attack—King's Strike.

The ground beneath them trembled as the full force of his power built up. Lionel's eyes blazed with the intent to destroy as he swung the sword down, aiming to end Lucas once and for all.

The radiant energy exploded forward, creating a shockwave that tore through the battlefield. It slammed into Lucas, engulfing him in blinding light and overwhelming force.

And yet, as the light faded and the dust settled, there Lucas stood—unharmed.

Not a scratch.

Lionel's breath caught in his throat, his heart hammering in disbelief. His hands trembled slightly as he gripped his sword tighter, but his mind raced to comprehend what had just happened. How can this be? he thought. His voice trembled as he gasped aloud, "How… how is this possible?"

Lucas tilted his head slightly, his smirk only widening, his eyes gleaming with smug superiority. He looked at Lionel with a calm, almost bored expression, his voice dripping with condescension. "You're really not as strong as you think."

But despite the confident smirk on Lucas's face, a silent truth gnawed at him. His body was drenched in sweat—not from fear, but from the relentless, unbearable agony that accompanied each of King Lionel's strikes.

Though his skin showed no signs of damage, the pain was very real. Every time Lionel's sword connected, waves of searing pain coursed through his body, threatening to overwhelm him. His defense was perfect, but it didn't make him immune to the suffering. The agony hit harder than the blows themselves.

[What's wrong, Lucas?] the system's voice chimed in with its usual arrogance. [Feeling a little sore? You look fine, but I know that pain must be tearing you apart inside.]

Lucas gritted his teeth, pushing back the urge to wince. "The defense is good, but the pain... it's unreal." His thoughts were strained, his inner voice filled with frustration.

[Hah! You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you? You should be grateful. No one else would get the privilege of enduring pain like this and still looking so smug.] The system's tone was mocking, dripping with shameless glee at Lucas's discomfort.

Lucas knew he couldn't afford to let his pain show, not now. His composure was crucial, the psychological upper hand over Lionel was his biggest advantage. If the king saw even a flicker of weakness, the tides could shift.

He took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing the pain to simmer just below the surface. His face remained calm, his smirk steady as he locked eyes with Lionel. The king's expression was still one of disbelief, unable to comprehend how Lucas remained unscathed.

[You better keep up that cocky look. Don't let him see how much it burns. You wouldn't want your little facade to fall apart now, would you?] The system's voice was taunting, enjoying every second of the torment Lucas endured.

Lucas exhaled again, more slowly this time, letting the heat of his suffering dissipate beneath his cold exterior. His smirk never wavered, his eyes gleaming with the same icy confidence as he stared Lionel down.

"Now..." Lucas's voice remained eerily calm, though every fiber of his body screamed in pain. He leaned forward just enough to signal his intent, his eyes glinting with a dangerous edge.

His next words slipped out like a cold, sharp blade, each syllable dripping with quiet menace. "It's my turn."

Lionel's eyes widened slightly, but Lucas's smile only deepened.

[Ah, there it is. The arrogance. I knew you had it in you. Go on, show him why we're untouchable.] The system laughed internally, utterly shameless.

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