The air collapsed, water vapor trembled and the very floor of the artificial dimension gave way with a catastrophic implosion. From its core, it emerged. Its roar was so violent that Denisia and Natalis, still hovering above their now-fallen array, were tossed midair like twigs in a hurricane. Their flight formations scattered instantly, wings folding in on reflex as the shockwave flattened the clouds above them.
From the fractured heart of the broken world, the Octobehemoth rose. It was an octopus, yes but calling it that would be an insult to its grotesque majesty.
Its head was a tower of obsidian flesh, dripping in seaweed filth, bulging with eyes that blinked in irregular patterns. Its body alone stretched over thirty meters high, and that didn't even include the dozens of tentacles erupting around it. Each limb was as thick as a ship's mast and ended in spiked suckers that dripped with acid and venom.
The beast screamed again. The ocean's mystic pressure returned instantly like a crashing tidal wave, ripping the air itself apart and pushing down with a crushing force. Everyone felt it.
Everyone, except him.
Vastarael hovered calmly, his arms crossed and eyes glowing faintly, as if the chaos around him was merely an annoyance. Two interlinked Mystic Circles pulsed behind his back in a calm sapphire glow, spinning in opposite directions. It was his custom-made Flight Circles, formed during his five-year period.
He didn't even react as the massive octopus lunged.
Back at the ship, now finally floating again on the stable ocean's surface, the others were still recovering. Peroncerea and Eldrigan arrived in synchronized dashes, their Divine Forms dissipating into light. Adelasta wasn't far behind, a faint line of blood trickling from her lips. Narisva was the last to arrive, her eyes narrowed as she floated down beside Natalis and Denisia, all three of them looking toward the floating Vastarael in eerie silence. Elyonari, Xander, and a very pale but conscious Farrynelle were already on the deck, having been brought up to speed quickly. Xander's arm was looped around Farrynelle, who leaned weakly against the rail.
"How is he still flying?" Xander muttered.
"The pressure's back," Farrynelle whispered, her voice still raspy. "I can feel it… it's pressing down on us again."
"Then how's he not sinking?" Eldrigan asked, already drawing a new barrier around the group. "Even we can't fly now without burning energy fast."
Adelasta scoffed softly, brushing her damp hair behind her ear as her eyes locked onto Vastarael.
"You really don't get it, do you?"
Everyone turned to her.
"He's the son of a Hydroborn Goddess."
They stared.
"The mystic pressure in the oceans comes from ancient seals left behind by the Asmaphaeri Pantheon. The sea obeys the lineage that once ruled it. Vastarael may not flaunt it but that power lives in his blood. To the ocean, he's a native. This pressure doesn't affect him because the ocean thinks he belongs here."
Narisva smirked from her seated position near the helm. "Lucky bastard."
Back in the sky, Vastarael's eyes locked on the Octobehemoth as it reared back a tentacle thicker than a tower and slammed it toward him. With a flick of his finger, one of the Flight Circles rotated, forming a protective ring that intercepted the blow. The collision rang like a bell but Vastarael didn't budge. The tentacle reeled, cracked at the base.
"Huh. You're actually real. You'll do just fine for a real test."
The roar of the Octobehemoth rolled across the ocean. Its tentacles thrashed so wildly that even the reinforced barriers shielding the ship creaked under the weight of the chaos. To most, this creature was apocalyptic and an ancient nightmare from the dark fold of the sea.
But not to him.
The leader of the Sentina Erideae stood in midair, his sapphire glaive resting beside him as if it too were waiting for his permission to move. The glaive suddenly morphed into a mage staff. His lips parted and out came words that echoed across the entire area. Suddenly, the very fabric around the Octobehemoth began to bend and sing, forming into hundreds of glowing Seventh Star Mystic Circles, all etched with impossibly complex Runes that pulsed in sapphire light.
Some were small and delicate, spinning slowly near its eyes, locking its gaze. Others were massive, equal in size to the Divine Array Denisia and Natalis created. They hovered above and beneath the beast, aligning in a perfect web of mystic chains.
"Those circles..." Elyonari whispered from the ship, unable to look away. "They're... harmonized. He's syncing them to his Divinity."
And above it all, he changed. It wasn't the Divine Transformation Elyonari had seen during the final battle of the Erna Isles. This was something else.
He remained his natural height but his entire being radiated a quiet, devastating power. His usually stark white hair shifted into a cascade of sapphire blue, threads glowing softly as they billowed behind him. His skin shimmered faintly, etched with runes too ancient for language. They moved beneath the surface of his flesh. He reached out his hand gently as the sun rose.
"Good morning, you old fish. And goodbye."
He snapped his fingers but what came after was divine annihilation.
The mystic circles began to pulse with an almost eerie calm, each one spinning faster and faster, synchronizing perfectly with one another like cogs in a clock. And then in a blink, all of them stopped, hovering in a timeless pause before discharging pure devastation.
Every circle unleashed a beam of plasma, the highest, most refined form of Vastarael's energy. He was one of the two beings in the world who could use plasma, his father being the first of course.
Every single beam was aimed directly at the Octobehemoth.
From the heavens, from the sides, from below, from all directions, the sky lit up. The monster tried to scream and escape but there was no space left to move. The beams struck its body with the force of compressed suns, each one hitting not just flesh, but its very soul piercing layers of protection that had never been touched in centuries. The instant they made contact, reality buckled. It was as if the planet itself held its breath as an explosion of pure blue plasma engulfed everything. Plasma erupted from the core of the Octobehemoth's crumbling form so blindingly bright that the sun itself seemed to dim in reverence. The ocean directly beneath them was obliterated into a massive circular crater three kilometers wide, water launched into the sky like inverted waterfalls, forming a dome of rain that hadn't even begun to fall yet. For a terrifying moment, there was no sea, only vapor, void and a deafening, all-consuming silence.
Then, the shockwave hit.
Back at the ship, Eldrigan braced his feet against the deck, his teeth gritted as he roared, trying to reinforce his barrier. The crimson dome he summoned rippled like an unstable bubble, shaking violently, groaning with stress as wave after wave of concussive force slammed into it like divine fists.
"HOW IS THIS EVEN LEGAL?!!"
He shouted over the roar, pouring every ounce of his strength into holding the barrier as the entire ship tilted nearly forty-five degrees, water crashing onto the deck, thunder booming overhead from air being split apart. Lightning began to spiral in the skies. It was not natural lightning but residual static born from Soul Energy tearing air into plasma. The ship was now rising and falling, violently rocking and waves stacking as high as fortresses before crashing onto themselves.
"IS HE EVEN A PERSON ANYMORE?!" Shouted Peroncerea, clutching onto a rail as her wings folded in from the pressure.
"WHY IS HE EVEN USING THIS MUCH POWER?!" Yelled Adelasta, water streaming down her face as she crouched next to Xander, shielding the weakened Farrynelle, who was holding tightly onto his arm with wide, trembling eyes.
Even Denisia and Natalis, floating nearby and still glowing with their purification light, had to retreat and fold their wings in, diving low to avoid the sheer air displacement the blast had caused. And there, sitting on a crate as the wind howled and the sky split and the sea howled like a god in pain was Narisva. Her legs were crossed, her hair whipping behind her and her eyes watched the chaos unfold. Her lips didn't move. Her posture didn't change but everyone else turned toward her anyway.
"Narisva!" Elyonari shouted over the maelstrom. "Still think you're the strongest?!"
"Tell us!" Screamed Eldrigan. "Is this your idea of second place?!"
"Say something!!" came Natalis's voice, half-laughing, half-terrified.
But Narisva didn't speak not because she was silent but because she genuinely didn't know what to say.
The vast stretch of ocean they were watching, where the Octobehemoth had once stood was empty now. No trace of it remained. Only waves cascaded back into the massive crater, creating whirlpools that spun for kilometers. The sky was torn open. The sapphire afterglow from the explosion lingered like a wound in the heavens.
And at the center of it all hovered Vastarael. A slow gust of wind flowed around him as the Flight Circles dimmed and rotated to a stop. His staff morphed back to a glaive. And for just a moment, all of them remembered something vital.
He was the son of a Hydroborn Goddess and the strongest mage in history, and the heir of the Richinaria bloodline.