The thousands of tentacles of the Thousand-Eyed Tyrant were not simple fleshy tissues. They were the physical extensions of its psychic power, the anchor points for it to manipulate dimensions.
With a screech from the Tyrant, the surrounding environment began to distort violently.
[Dimensional Displacement: Extreme Cold Ice Field.]
In an instant, the Slayer felt the surrounding temperature plummet to absolute zero. A thick layer of hard ice formed on the surface of the Tyrant's body. Those tentacles turned into sharp ice spikes, attempting to freeze the Slayer in place and then use the environmental shift to throw him off.
The Slayer didn't let go.
His left hand, gripping the tentacle, saw the Demon Dragon leather on his glove automatically contract and harden in the extreme cold. The barbs dug deeply into the Tyrant's flesh, like an ice axe driven into an ice cliff.
Change all you want.
I'm right here.
[Dimensional Displacement: Magma Purgatory.]
The ice field collapsed instantly, replaced by a boiling pool of magma. The Tyrant's body turned into flowing lava, and the tentacles transformed into whips of fire, madly lashing at the Slayer's back.
The Slayer still didn't let go.
The reflective armor on his back was burned red-hot, but he didn't even frown. Borrowing the energy brought by the high temperature, he activated [Heat Absorption], and his shield value actually rose a notch.
No matter how harsh the environment.
No matter how gravity inverted.
The Slayer was like a stubborn piece of gum, stuck dead onto the Tyrant's body.
He ran and leaped upon the Tyrant's form.
When the Tyrant tried to fling him into the void, he used the Meat Hook to snag another tentacle, swinging back with the momentum.
When the Tyrant tried to flatten him with gravity, he activated his thrusters, pushing upstream against the gravitational flow.
This was "Absolute Adhesion."
This was the "Melee Nightmare" that made all mages despair.
The Tyrant was finally getting anxious.
It realized that conventional environmental controls couldn't shake off this madman at all.
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It mobilized all its tentacles, no longer simply lashing out, but weaving them into an airtight "Strangulation Web."
Thousands of tentacles tightened simultaneously, like countless giant pythons, attempting to completely wrap around the Slayer and crush him to pieces.
"Die! Since I can't shake you off, then become part of me!"
The Slayer was surrounded.
Walls of writhing flesh were on all sides; the suction cups on the tentacles were trying to drain his energy.
The Slayer stopped moving.
But he wasn't strangled to death.
Because his muscles were engorging, expanding.
Every joint of the Praetor Suit was humming with the sound of a limit load.
He took a deep breath.
Then, burst.
SNAP!!!
A crisp sound, like a breaking lute string.
That wasn't the sound of one tentacle breaking.
That was the sound of dozens, hundreds of tentacles snapping simultaneously.
The Slayer's arms shoved outward with explosive force.
That power was like a volcano erupting within a confined space.
The Tyrant's tentacles, which claimed to be indestructible and could even strangle spatial laws, were as fragile as overcooked noodles in the face of the Slayer's pure brute force.
Splurt! Splurt!
Severed tentacles danced in the air, and purple blood fell like rain.
The Slayer stood up from the pile of tentacles.
He was still clutching a section of a severed, thick tentacle that was still twitching.
He glanced at this piece of "trash" in his hand.
Then, he looked up at the Tyrant's main body, which was spasming from the pain.
He didn't throw the severed limb away.
He grabbed both ends of the severed limb with his hands.
Since you like tying people up with tentacles.
Then let me give you a taste of being... "tied" by your own tentacle.
The Slayer swung that severed limb, which was dozens of meters long.
Whoosh—!
He used it like a giant whip, or a meteor hammer.
WHAM!
The severed limb lashed viciously across the Tyrant's face (although it was entirely made of eyes).
The Tyrant was knocked into a mid-air spin.
But it wasn't over.
The Slayer exerted force again.
Like a strongman performing acrobatics, he gripped one end of the tentacle and dragged the Tyrant, who hadn't yet stabilized its figure, directly down from the air.
BOOM!
The Tyrant smashed heavily onto the ground.
The Slayer stepped on its body, wrapped the tentacle in his hand around it once, and then... tied a dead knot.
Binding vs Collapse.
The binding method the Tyrant was so proud of ultimately became the rope that bound itself.
The Slayer stood on top of the hog-tied Tyrant.
He let go of his hands.
Then, he slowly drew out the weapon at his waist that had been silent for a long time, and was now vibrating madly because it smelled the scent of top-tier prey...
The Chainsaw.
...
Netherworld, Control Center.
Singularity, who had just settled the Celestial Court customer service (actually by writing a massive IOU), wiped the sweat from his forehead and reconnected the signal.
As soon as it connected, he saw this scene:
The Slayer was like a butcher, standing on the "Year Pig" (the Tyrant) waiting to be slaughtered, the chainsaw in his hand letting out a hungry roar.
"Oh! Caught it! Caught it just in time!"
Singularity rubbed his hands together excitedly.
"Great Hero! This is technical work!"
"Although the Tyrant is tied up, its life force is still there. A demon of this level can resurrect even if sliced into pieces."
"We must... pull up the weeds and dig out the roots."
Singularity looked at the Tiger Soul Chainsaw in the Slayer's hand, a glint of anticipation in his eyes.
"Since awakening, this saw hasn't really had a 'big meal' yet."
Next Chapter: The Chainsaw Shows Its Power. This isn't just cutting, this is... feeding. The Tiger Soul says: I'll take this piece of meat.
