Online Game: Starting With SSS-Ranked Summons-Chapter 454: The Golden Manes

The impact of the attack unleashed by Arthur lifted the massive predator completely off the ground, his blood streaming behind him like liquid metal as he sailed through the air in a perfect arc.

"Roaaaar... roar?"

The Golden Mane’s second roar began with anger but ended in confusion. The sound trailed off uncertainly as the beast’s intelligent mind began to process the reality of his ordeal. This wasn’t a normal fight, not by any means. This was something beyond his experience entirely.

As a Golden Mane that’s been born to hunt and devour enemies like nothing, he had never encountered such a fearsome, such a powerful entity...ever. So, for the first time in its life, it felt...genuine fear.

Arthur appeared beneath the Golden Mane’s falling trajectory, timing his next strike.

His hands moved towards the falling lion, and soon, his uppercut connected with the beast’s solar plexus just as gravity began pulling him downward.

WHOMP!

The Golden Mane’s eyes widened, its torso caved in, and suddenly the descent reversed instantly!

Its massive body launched skyward with enough force to scatter birds from nearby trees. Arthur had effectively turned the superior-rank predator into a living volleyball, bouncing him through the air with casual strikes that made it seem as if he was playing with him.

From his perch on Arthur’s shoulder, Aether watched the one-sided encounter with obvious fascination. The small void dragon’s eyes tracked the Golden Mane’s aerial acrobatics with a huge smile on his face.

Aether was enjoying himself; this time, he wasn’t the one playing, but watching the entertaining sports event that his master seemed to be holding.

"Wow, the master is really good at volleyball!" Aether commented with wonder, his voice carrying admiration for his master’s technique.

The innocent observation made the Golden Mane’s predicament even more humiliating. He wasn’t being defeated in a glorious combat to the death. He was being used as recreational equipment by an opponent who viewed him as nothing but a toy.

Arthur caught the falling Golden Mane with a perfectly timed palm strike to the creature’s side, sending him careening horizontally through the forest clearing. The beast’s trajectory carried him directly toward a cluster of oaks, their thick trunks promising a painful collision.

CRASH!

The Golden Mane’s body slammed into the tree line with enough force to shake acorns from branches twenty feet above the impact point. Bark exploded outward as the beast’s golden form created a creature-shaped impression in the ancient wood.

"roar... roar... whimper?"

The sound that emerged from the Golden Mane’s throat was no longer recognisable as the confident roar of an apex predator. Fear had begun creeping into his voice, eroding the pride and rage that had driven him to confront the intruders, transforming his aggressive calls into something approaching distress signals.

Each strike that landed on him had come with overwhelming force and precision, a blur of violence he couldn’t react to. The attacks hadn’t just wounded his body; they had shattered his sense of superiority that he had been born with, tempered in.

Barely two seconds had passed since the first blow, but it no longer resembled a fight. It was a one-sided display of power. And in that short time, the lion’s will had most certainly started breaking. What stood before Arthur now was not a proud guardian of the forest, but a creature lost in panic, trapped in a battle he never had the strength to win.

Arthur slowly walked toward the embedded lion; his stride was unhurried, and his expression was mildly curious.

He was no longer angry. The Golden Mane’s helplessness had drained his initial fury, replacing it with disinterest.

The lion had lost his ego, his will to fight, and fear was creeping into him. If the lion could speak, he would have certainly started begging Arthur for mercy, but he couldn’t. He could only roar and whimper softly in hope of being understood.

Just like Adam in that cell, the lion was nothing but a stepping stone. He was never someone who could rival Arthur, let alone stare down on him.

"Are you beginning to understand?" Arthur asked conversationally, though he expected no coherent response from the increasingly panicked beast. "This is what happens when arrogance encounters actual power."

The Golden Mane extracted himself from the tree trunk with visible effort, his once proud golden mane now matted with blood, bark fragments and forest debris. His previous confidence had evaporated entirely, replaced by the wide-eyed terror.

For the first time in his life, the golden mane had realised how it feels to be a prey and wander into a predator’s domain.

Arthur’s next movement was a casual kick that caught the Golden Mane’s rear flank, sending the creature tumbling across the clearing like an oversized golden ball.

Crash!

The beast’s attempts to maintain dignity or fighting stance had become irrelevant.

"whimper... roar... whimper..."

The Golden Mane’s voice had devolved into a confused mixture of defiance and fear. His brain couldn’t reconcile his status as a superior-rank predator with his current situation as a helpless plaything for someone with power that was beyond his comprehension.

Arthur appeared beside the rolling beast’s trajectory and delivered a perfectly placed strike that sent the Golden Mane spinning through the air like a golden torpedo.

The Golden Beetle watched this demonstration with growing awe and concern for its master. Arthur’s display of dominance had been swift and absolute, it was a masterclass in superiority, one that left no room for resistance and no hope for redemption.

While the beetle admired its master’s power, it also understood the deeper consequences of what had just taken place. Arthur had not merely defeated a Golden Mane, he had broken one.

He had stripped it of its pride, will, and dignity; the once-proud guardian of the forest now cowered like prey. And that, in the eyes of his kin, this was worse than death.

To the Golden Manes, strength was their identity. Their will was as sacred as blood.