SSS-Ranked Summoner: Only I Summon All Heroes And Heroines Of Legend-Chapter 25: Ultimate Armament: The Twelve Penance Reward

The air itself seemed to bow.

Heracles stood at the center of a maelstrom of crimson energy, his body wreathed in power that cracked the earth beneath his feet . His muscles expanded, veins of molten gold tracing patterns across his skin as it darkened to a burnished red.

"Godhood: The Twelve Penance Reward."

The words rolled from Heracles like thunder.

His aura erupted outward in concentric waves, each throb carrying the depth of ancient battles, impossible trials and divine punishment transformed into divine strength. Altair felt it even from a distance, the memory of twelve labors compressed into a single moment.

Ghrangoroth staggered as he pushed himself upright, sand streaming from his shattered arms, he was already weaving replacements, constructs of compressed desert, hardening into something like prosthetics of his own making.

But for the first time since the encounter began, something flickered in those glowing eyes beneath his cracked mask.

Uncertainty.

"Impossible," the herald muttered, watching as Heracles’ form continued to evolve. "That I lose Here!".

The herald attacked immediately.

Sand erupted from the platforms in jagged spears, dozens of them, each one dense enough to pierce steel. They converged on Heracles from every angle, a killing formation that should have turned him into a pincushion.

Heracles didn’t dodge, he remained still, brewing his energy.

Ka-BOOM, BOOM, BOOM

The spears connected, leaving a wild explosion of dust and sand. But when the cloud of dust settled,

Heracles still stood, unscathed.

Then,

He moved.

BOOM.

The platform beneath him shattered completely as he closed the distance in a blink, appearing directly in front of Ghrangoroth with his fist already in motion.

The herald barely side stepped, the punch missing by inches and creating a vacuum of displaced air that carved a trench through the floating platform behind him.

Ghrangoroth snarled and retreated backwards, creating a fresh distance between them as his constructed arms touch the ground

CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.

The entire platform converted to sand beneath them, tendrils of compressed sand shot upward like striking serpents, wrapping around Heracles’ legs, arms, and torso.

Heracles didn’t even acknowledge them.

He moved, and tore through their grips like they were nothing but spiderwebs.

"Your tricks grow tiresome," Heracles said coldly.

"Tch" Ghrangoroth retorted, cursing beneath his breath.

Then, his prosthetic hands moved in complex patterns, weaving hieroglyphic seals in the air. Massive constructs materialized around him,,sand golems, each one ten feet tall and built like siege weapons.

"teph-mes-N-Ghrangoroth!"

(First sons of Ghrangoroth)

Three golems charged Heracles from different angles.

The first, descended an axe upon him. Heracles pivoted right, and punched its chest. The construct’s entire upper body disintegrated. He picked up its two legs, splitting them and using them as a projectile to destroy the other two mid-charge.

Ghrangoroth retreated to another platform, creating a massive wave of sand, easily thirty feet high, and sent it crashing toward Heracles with the force of a tsunami.

Heracles planted his feet...

CLAP!

He clapped both hands, releasing a shockwave that split the sandstorm down the middle, parting around him harmlessly before it collapsed into useless grains.

"Enough games," Heracles growled, moving for the kill.

Ghrangoroth kept retreating from one platform to the other and creating more constructs, more barriers, more traps. Quicksand pits opened beneath Heracles’ feet. Spears of compressed sand launched from every direction. Walls of swirling grains tried to obscure vision and disorient.

None of it mattered.

Heracles walked through it all like a god through mist.

And with each step, he grew stronger.

That was the nature of the Twelve Penance Reward, progressive resistance. The longer the battle extended, the more adapted he became. Ghrangoroth’s techniques were registering less and less with each passing second.

The herald realized it too.

FWOOSH.

Heracles’ speed doubled as he surged forward, and lunged.

BA-KOOM.

The punch landed like artillery fire. Ghrangoroth’s prosthetic hands came up to block, but the force shattered them instantly, reducing the reconstructed limbs back to loose sand. The impact didn’t stop there, it traveled through his entire body, fracturing the ancient bandages, cracking the mask across his face.

The ashen face-plate fell away in pieces, revealing something Altair couldn’t quite make out from this distance. Grey parched skin. and eyes that were too bright.

And in those eyes, for the first time in centuries, Ghrangoroth felt fear.

Real fear, a feeling he’d forgotten.

"No..."

He didn’t finish the word.

Heracles hit him again, a straight right that launched him backward like a cannonball. His body tumbled across the sand, limbs flailing, until he crashed on a platform fifty meters away.

For a moment there was silence. Then, he moved.

Ghrangoroth dragged himself upright, sand pouring from the stumps of his arms, his exposed face twisted between rage and panic. He turned and ran.

Not strategically retreating, Fleeing.

Sand erupted beneath him, forming a platform that lifted him into the air. He rose higher and higher, putting distance between himself and the nightmare below.

With the remainder of his powers, glowing seals manifested in the air around him, Hieroglyphic patterns that began to weave themselves into a circular formation. Ghrangoroth was carving an escape route. A way out.

"Even if I cannot bring thee, bearer of the Codex," he muttered, voice strained, "I can tell the Watchers where thou art. They shall come. They shall reclaim what is theirs."

Below, Heracles stood on the platform’s edge, muscles still blazing crimson, but grounded. The pillar of sand was too high, too unstable to climb without it collapsing.

From the distant platform where Altair, Ryka, and Svenja watched, Ryka’s eyes narrowed.

"He’s escaping!," she said.

Altair’s face hardened. "We can’t let him..."

Ryka stepped forward, her summoning seal flaring to life at her wrist. Crimson light erupted around her as she thrust her hand skyward.

"Come, Rhegalyion!"

The air above them tore open, and with a deafening roar, the young wyvern burst forth. Massive leathery wings spread wide, scales gleaming deep crimson and gold. The beast was easily twenty feet long, powerful muscles rippling beneath its armored hide.

Ryka immediately issued a mental command, and Rhegalyion shot forward in bulllet haste, picking up heracles and hurling the hero upon its saddle as it trailed towards Ghrangoroth

Ghrangoroth was so focused on his seal, casting a spell of this magnitude without hands took more time and concentration, that he didn’t notice the approaching shadow until it was nearly upon him.

His eyes snapped to the side.

The wyvern was right there. And on its back, Heracles stood tall, fist already drawn back, power condensing into a single point.

"No..."

Heracles leapt.

The force of his jump launched him forward like a meteor.

Ghrangoroth trie to create a defensive barrier, but It didn’t matter.

"OLYMPIAN SURGE!"

Heracles’ fist ignited with golden light, divine strength condensed to its absolute limit. He punched through the forming barrier.

His fist connected with Ghrangoroth’s torso.

BOOOOOOM.

The impact was catastrophic. The herald’s body exploded outward in multiple directions, arms, legs, left, right, all separating as the structural integrity of his form shattered completely. Sand and fragments of bandage scattered across the void.

The escape seal flickered once, then collapsed, its half-formed pattern dissolving into nothing.

Heracles was descending now, his body freefalling through empty space.

Rhegalyion dove beneath, and the hero landed heavily on the wyvern’s back. The beast adjusted mid-flight, powerful wings beating steadily as it circled back toward the platform where Altair and the others waited.

They landed with a heavy thud, and Heracles dismounted immediately.

The crimson aura around him was fading now, the blazing heat dissipating into the air. His muscles began to shrink back toward their normal size... still massive by human standards, but no longer swollen with divine fury. The deep red of his skin lightened, returning to its natural bronze tone.

He took two steps forward, then his legs buckled.

Heracles dropped to one knee.

"Heracles!" Altair rushed forward.

The hero raised one hand, waving him off. "I am fine, young one." His voice was rougher now, strained. "Just exhausted. The ultimate armament takes its toll."

His breathing was heavy, each exhale visible in the strange air of the void.

"I have no will to drain your mana to recover," Heracles continued. "I shall return to my domain. To rest, and recover properly."

Altair knelt beside him. "Okay then."

Heracles met his eyes, and despite the exhaustion, there was satisfaction there.

"That was a worthy battle. The herald was strong, you chose well to call upon me."

"And you two" He turned to Svenja and Ryka. "Your aid is appreciated"

The girls nodded back in respect.

He placed one massive hand on Altair’s shoulder briefly, then removed it.

"Summon me again when you face another challenge of this magnitude. I am always ready."

His form began to dissolve, breaking apart into particles of golden light that drifted upward like embers from a dying fire.

Altair watched until the last particle faded from view.

Then from the silence.

DING.!

The notification chimed brightly into his vision.

[CONGRATULATIONS: You have completed a Major Quest]

[Quest: Defeat A Herald of the Watchers — COMPLETED]

[+10,000 XP]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[Level Up!]

[HERALD FELLED - Choose An Artifact]