SSS-Grade Acceleration Talent made me Fastest Lord of Apocalypse-Chapter 21: Mockery of humanity

"I should have taken a few more..."

Damien muttered under his breath, his fingers rolling the last remaining vitality pill in his hand.

Surviving the last two hours without these pills would've been impossible. Just thinking about how casually he had handed them over earlier made his chest tighten with regret.

He sighed, the pill still nestled between his fingers.

Devrok, who had been silently watching from the front, caught the moment. His gaze narrowed as pieces clicked into place. He'd seen Damien pop one of those pills before every major encounter, just when things were on the brink of collapse.

"Could it be..."

He didn't finish the thought, but a heavy guilt settled over his heart.

Devrok cleared his throat, trying to mask the awkwardness in his voice. "Are you okay?"

Damien, pulled from his spiraling thoughts, glanced at him. A wry grin tugged at the corner of his lips. "Hehe... of course I'm okay. What could even happen to me?"

ROAR!

A guttural, bone-shaking roar split the air, rising from deep within the second layer. It sounded ancient—feral. The forest stilled.

Immediately, Devrok's expression darkened. "No time to waste," he said grimly. "We need to find the Stone Hearted Knight and extract its core before whatever that is finds us."

As soon as the soldiers regained some strength, Devrok took the lead once more, his cloak fluttering behind him like a battle flag.

"We're close. Just follow me."

The soldiers exchanged wary glances but followed. They had no choice. None of them could navigate the twisted paths of this place. Without Damien, they would be lost, swallowed whole by the forest.

After them, Damien followed silently, inhaling deeply before urging his mount forward.

Though his body looked composed on the outside, every step felt like dragging a boulder. His heartbeat echoed like a war drum in his chest.

His spiritual space was nearly depleted, the two spiritual marbles frantically drawing in mana from the surroundings like thirsty men in a desert. Every arrow he fired, every burst of acceleration, had drained him further.

His body screamed to stop. To rest.

But Damien's eyes glinted with something cold and unyielding.

"As if mere tiredness can stop me..."

He pressed forward, jaw clenched. He had endured months working day and night on an empty stomach just to make sure his sister didn't go to bed hungry. Compared to that, what was a little pain? A little exhaustion?

He was not a slave to his limits. He bent them to his will.

Eventually, his horse caught up with Devrok's.

The scenery shifted.

Dense forest gave way to an eerie clearing—a battlefield frozen in time. A metallic scent filled the air. Thousands upon thousands of rusted swords jutted from the ground at odd angles, broken, chipped, and twisted by age and something far more sinister.

Each blade, though weathered, carried an undeniable aura. Damien felt it immediately—these had once belonged to warriors who had loved their blades more than their own lives.

It was haunting... and beautiful.

Long ago, this had been the site of a catastrophic event. According to legend, a mighty empire had once flourished here, only to be wiped from the face of the earth when an Abyss Gate opened.

The beasts had poured out.

And in their wake, nothing remained but ash and broken dreams.

Devrok stood still at the center of it all, a monolith amidst ruin, holding a massive greatsword that hummed faintly in his grip.

The soldiers stood five meters behind him, ready to provide support if necessary.

Damien squinted. "Is it... some kind of ritual?"

He had expected a battle to summon the Stone Hearted Knight. But now, watching Devrok—calm, eyes closed, blade planted in the earth—he realized something different was unfolding.

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"Because of their love for the sword, the swordsmen's souls refuse to leave this world..."

Devrok's mind echoed with memories of ancient texts and whispered legends.

The Stone Hearted Knights were not just beasts—they were formed from the remnants of warriors who had nothing but the blade in their hearts. Their souls, twisted and tempered by battle, never found rest. Instead, they lingered... and became monsters.

As a swordsman himself, Devrok wasn't here to hunt.

He was here to challenge.

He opened his eyes, gaze fixed on the empty space ahead. The aura of his sword pulsed outward.

He wasn't seeking the Knight.

He was summoning it.

Just like thirst drives men to water, the Stone Hearted Knight would come—drawn by the call of the blade.

Minutes passed. Then half an hour. An hour.

Doubt began to creep into the faces of the soldiers. Sweat trickled down their brows, not just from heat, but tension.

Even Devrok began to falter.

Was I wrong?

Then—

A pressure, heavy and suffocating, pressed down on the clearing.

Damien's senses flared.

He turned his head sharply toward the trees.

WHOOSH!

A violent gust of wind blew past them as something massive cleaved the air.

From deep within the shadows of the trees, it emerged.

The Stone Hearted Knight.

Ten meters tall. Humanoid. Its skin was a sickly greenish-purple, as if rotting from the inside. Black, gnarled armor encased its limbs—thick and impenetrable like a tortoise's shell—except for its chest, where a gaping hole revealed a single, glowing stone lodged deep within.

Its face was a mockery of humanity—blank and eyeless, twisted in an eternal grimace.

In its right hand, it carried a sword.

No—a slab of metal shaped like a sword. Nearly ten meters long. A weapon forged for annihilation.

Damien sucked in a breath. "That's... it. The Stone Hearted Knight."

A demonic, mutated creature formed from the soul of a warrior who refused to die. Its speed might be lacking, but its strength and destructive power were unmatched.

His gaze drifted to Devrok.

The prince stood still—but his face had paled. His hands trembled slightly around the hilt of his sword.

A chill ran down Damien's spine.

For the first time... he wasn't sure Devrok could win.

Devrok clenched his jaw, his inner thoughts spiraling.

Fuck! How the hell am I supposed to beat this thing?

But even as fear wormed its way into his mind, something else ignited in his chest.

Passion.

His fear became fuel. His doubt turned to resolve.

The fire in his eyes reignited, hotter than ever.