Thirty seconds earlier—
Valerius lay still on the shattered stone floor, his body steaming.
The pain had ceased.
There was silence in his bones. His breathing evened. His eyes opened.
Then—
"You don't have time."
Yelleen's voice rang sharply in his mind.
"Grace is about to die."
Valerius's eyes widened. "What?"
"Your body just crossed a threshold," she said. "Your senses have sharpened, your endurance risen. You're still weak—but far stronger than you were. I know how you feel about this girl. Use that nose of yours. Find her. Now."
Valerius inhaled, deep and sharp.
He caught it instantly—her scent. Faint, but laced with fear. With finality.
Then he moved.
BOOM.
He exploded upward, bursting through the ceiling in a shockwave of force and dust.
He shot through the air, tearing across Weston at Mach 3, the sound barrier shattering in his wake. The world slowed. Buildings blurred. Breathless civilians turned as a blur of heat and motion passed.
Through the fog, Valerius saw everything.
The gallows. The crowd. The ropes. Grace.
Then he saw Mathen.
His heart surged.
His muscles tensed.
A feral rage took hold.
He launched himself forward, diving from the heavens like a thunderbolt. The ground beneath him cratered from the sheer pressure of his descent as he delivered a devastating flying kick aimed squarely at Mathen's skull.
But Gavurn moved.
Just as fast.
The knight blurred forward, instincts flaring. He crossed his armoured arms—and caught the kick in mid-air.
BOOOOM.
A crater ten meters wide erupted from the force of impact.
The shockwave hurled villagers, guards, and nobles into the air. The execution scaffold collapsed.
Grace and Anna were flung like leaves in a storm.
At the centre of it all—suspended in mid-air—Valerius's boot pressed against Gavurn's braced arms.
Their eyes locked.
A silent war.
Valerius dropped, landing in a crouch as debris rained around them.
He rose slowly, his gaze never leaving Gavurn.
Gavurn's voice rumbled.
"…That kick wasn't meant for me."
Valerius's eyes shifted—past him—to Mathen.
Mathen's crooked smile vanished, fear replacing arrogance.
Valerius cracked his neck, his voice like iron:
"No more begging. No more cages. No more executions."
He stepped forward.
"You guys… are done."
---
Somewhere Else—
In a vast, dark chamber that echoed with eternity, a lone figure reclined in a throne carved from obsidian and starlight.
Before him, a colossal screen stretched across the void—no edges, no frame, just a boundless canvas of glowing light. Upon it played the scene from Weston, viewed through Valerius's eyes as if projected for gods.
Explosions, screams, dust, rage.
The being leaned back lazily, one leg draped over the arm of his chair.
He crunched on spectral popcorn from a floating bowl beside him, each kernel popping into existence before he grabbed it.
His eyes gleamed with delight as Valerius descended like a meteor into the execution grounds.
He let out a low whistle.
"Now that's what I'm talking about."
He tossed another kernel into his mouth and grinned.
"Finally... things are getting interesting."
---
Back in the square—
Valerius focused. Above Gavurn's head—a single star.
He narrowed his eyes and muttered, "Good. I can take him."
Gavurn watched him, troubled.
He's standing…? After all that? No… I broke every bone in his body. He should be paralyzed. Did he heal himself? That shouldn't be possible. He just awakened. He doesn't even know how to refine vitalis yet…
His jaw clenched.
Before, he could barely withstand a blow. Now… he pushed me back. This isn't talent. This is madness. This is—impossible.
Is he even Aurellian?
I am an elite Advanced Enhancer. I cannot have this.
Behind him, Mathen scrambled upright, brushing dust from his cloak. Aerion lay unconscious beside him.
Mathen turned and froze.
Valerius stood like a reaper reborn.
"What? No…" Mathen stammered. "How is he steel standing? He was dying yesterday. He looks… fine."
He searched Valerius for mana.
There was none.
"He's not a mage," Mathen whispered. "But then… what is he?"
He barked out, "Gavurn! Capture him! I want answers. I want to know where he got those crystals. This time, make sure he never walks again!"
Gavurn glanced back. Then returned his eyes to Valerius.
"Get out of here, my lord. I'll subdue him. And take the king with you."
He stepped forward, drawing his blade.
The steel hummed with power.
Valerius smirked faintly.
"Isn't it a bit unfair to bring a sword against an unarmed man?"
Gavurn's grip tightened.
"I don't know what kind of sorcery let you survive this long, but whatever strength you've gained—it won't be enough."
Valerius rolled his shoulders.
"Well then. Let's find out."
In his mind, Yelleen whispered urgently:
"Be careful. He's not like the others. He's a trained knight. Disciplined. Experienced. You are not. I'll say it again—do not let that sword pierce your chest."
Valerius said nothing.
But he smiled.
---
Valerius narrowed his eyes. His fists clenched.
"I don't know why," he muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching, "but I'm getting excited."
Yelleen's voice rippled through his mind like wind through leaves.
"That's normal. You're an Elvhein… after all."
In the blink of an eye—Valerius vanished.
To Gavurn's senses, it was as if space bent.
Then—bam!
Valerius appeared mid-air, directly in front of Gavurn, his body cocked, fist drawn back to deliver a devastating blow.
Instinct took over.
Gavurn's thoughts surged like lightning.
"Indomitable Defense."
A faint shimmer rippled across his body.
Valerius's punch landed.
BOOOOOOM!
The shockwave tore the street apart. Gavurn was hurled backwards, crashing through homes, storefronts, stone towers—an avalanche of destruction in his wake.
Civilians screamed and fled as debris rained across the city.
From the smoke, Gavurn stood, armour cracked but eyes sharp.
But Valerius didn't give him time.
In the next instant, he was in the air again—his fist aimed straight at Gavurn's chest like a meteor.
This time, Gavurn caught his arm mid-strike.
"I merely lost focus," Gavurn growled. "But I'm fine now."
He swung Valerius effortlessly overhead and slammed him into the ground.
CRRAAAAAACK!
A ten-meter crater bloomed beneath them like a crater on the moon.
Valerius gasped, blood splattering from his mouth. He barely had time to breathe before Gavurn kicked him, sending him rocketing through buildings—through walls, rooftops, and stone columns—until his body skidded across the ground, leaving a gouge like a blade across the terrain.
The people of weston scattered in every direction.
Smoke, rubble, screams.
Valerius, half-buried beneath debris, dug his way out, blood streaking his jaw.
He launched forward, throwing a fast punch.
Gavurn tilted his head and dodged by an inch.
"Do you think just raw strength is enough to contend with me?" Gavurn said coolly.
Valerius said nothing.
He twisted and unleashed seven rapid-fire punches in a heartbeat, so fast they blurred like streaks of lightning.
But Gavurn evaded every single one, his body weaving with unnatural grace.
"You think blindly swinging your arms can land a blow?" he said, sidestepping again.
"You lack skill."
WHAM!
He drove his fist into Valerius's stomach.
The younger warrior doubled over—but before he could react—
Gavurn vanished and reappeared behind him.
"You lack refinement."
CRACK!
He delivered a brutal backhand to Valerius's jaw, sending him crashing through a stone wall.
Gavurn was already waiting in his path.
"You lack experience."
He spun and kicked Valerius skyward, like a ragdoll launched by a catapult.
As Valerius soared, Gavurn calmly sheathed his sword.
"I don't even need my blade to deal with you."
Valerius's body arced through the air, limp for a breath.
Then—Gavurn leapt.
At the peak of Valerius's fall, Gavurn met him mid-air, cocked his arm, and delivered a monstrous uppercut to the face.
CRAAAAACK!
Valerius howled.
His teeth scattered into the wind.
Blood sprayed from his mouth.
The force of the punch sent him spinning through the sky—through three buildings, collapsing each like sandcastles—before slamming into the ground and digging a trench dozens of meters long.
Silence followed.
Valerius lay still.
Groaning, trembling, he slowly sat up—his mouth bleeding, teeth missing, one eye barely open.
He held his face in pain.
Yelleen's voice echoed in his mind, quieter now.
"I warned you… Just because you've matched his power doesn't mean you're his equal. Not yet."
Gavurn landed softly, his boots cracking the tiles as he approached, undeterred.
He circled Valerius, calmly, methodically.
"Your movements are as predictable as a child's tantrum," he said coldly.
Valerius growled and rushed him again, his fists blazing.
Left. Right. Hook. Spin.
But Gavurn dodged every strike—serpentine, precise.
And then—he countered.
A flurry of punches, each one thunderous, each one landing with surgical brutality.
One to the ribs.
One to the jaw.
One to the knee.
One to the side of the neck.
Another to the ribs.
Another. And another.
Valerius collapsed to his knees, blood dripping from his face, his vision blurring.
Gavurn stood over him, unbothered.
"It takes more than strength to become a warrior," he said.
His voice held no anger—only cold instruction.
"It takes control. Discipline. Precision. Experience."
He leaned down slightly, eyes narrow.
"And you have none of them."
---
Valerius wiped the blood from his mouth, eyes locked on Gavurn.
Yelleen's voice echoed in his skull—sharp and cutting through the haze of pain:
"You cannot win with strength alone. You need to think."
Valerius spat out a tooth, breathing ragged. "Fine. Then I'll think."
He shifted his stance.
Not brute, but bait.
---
Gavurn charged.
His movements were precise—disciplined. Every step efficient. Every strike fatal. A knight forged for war.
But this time, Valerius didn't meet him head-on.
He dodged left, letting Gavurn's punch strike a stone pillar. Dust exploded.
Gavurn spun—Valerius wasn't there.
He dropped low and swept Gavurn's legs.
Gavurn stumbled—first time in the whole fight.
Valerius didn't waste it.
He vaulted over the knight's back, twisting mid-air and kicked Gavurn behind the head before landing in a crouch.
Use his armor against him, Valerius thought. Use his size. His confidence.
He baited Gavurn forward again—then leapt backward into a ruined tavern. As Gavurn entered—
CRACK!
A broken support beam collapsed from above—Valerius had kicked it loose. It smashed down toward Gavurn's head.
The knight raised his arms to shield—but Valerius was already moving.
He slid across the floor, grabbed a jagged metal pan, and flung it like a discus.
CLANG!
It slammed into the side of Gavurn's knee. The knight buckled.
Valerius pounced.
Two hits to the ribs. One to the jaw. Then a full-force uppercut.
Gavurn staggered, blood trailing from his lip.
He caught himself—barely.
"…Impressive," he said. "But not enough."
---
Valerius didn't wait. He sprinted around the alley, knocking barrels over, kicking up smoke and ash from burnt debris, turning the terrain into chaos.
Gavurn followed—but slower. The ash stung his eyes.
Then from the side—
BOOM!
Valerius burst from a crumbled wall, elbow-first. The strike caught Gavurn off guard.
Gavurn grunted and punched forward blindly—Valerius ducked.
He head-butted Gavurn in the gut. The knight bent forward.
Valerius leapt, grabbed his shoulders, and kneed him in the face.
Blood flew.
Gavurn growled—and finally stepped back.
---
From the rooftop, Valerius leapt again. This time he used a fallen lamppost like a javelin, hurtling it with unnatural speed.
Gavurn sliced it in half with his gauntlet, but the distraction cost him. Valerius was already there.
A flurry of attacks—high, low, feints, knees, elbows.
For every five, Gavurn blocked three.
But two still landed.
The crowd, still watching from afar, gasped as the great knight took a knee.
---
Breathing hard, Gavurn wiped his mouth.
His gauntlets hissed.
"…You're forcing my hand," he said.
With a click, he unsheathed his sword.
The blade gleamed with faint blue inscriptions. It hummed like a living thing.
"I didn't think you'd last long enough to see this," Gavurn admitted. "But you've earned it."
Gavurn straightened slowly, brushing ash from his shoulder. His blade rested easily at his side, but his eyes were sharper now—focused.
"Knowing you lack refinement," he said calmly, "you used the terrain to tilt the battle in your favor. Well done…"
He exhaled, cracking his neck.
"…Tactical. Desperate. But well done."
Valerius blinked. Yelleen's voice whispered:
"Be careful. That sword..."
"I know" Valerius muttered.
Valerius exhaled.
Shhhhk.
The steel sang—a cold, resonant sound that pierced the air. Wind stirred. Mana pulsed. The very ground seemed to tense beneath their feet.
Valerius braced himself.
Gavurn moved.
A blur. A flash.
SHHHRAK!
Valerius barely dodged as the first slash ripped past him, carving a clean line into the stone plaza. The ground split apart in a ten-meter gash, spraying dust and debris into the air.
"You've fought well," Gavurn said as he walked forward slowly, blade humming, "but strength without mastery is chaos."
He disappeared again.
KRRAAASH!
A diagonal slash cut through a nearby building, the top half sliding off and collapsing with a thunderous roar. Shards of glass and splinters rained down.
Valerius leapt through the falling rubble, spinning and landing hard—just as another arc of energy split the space beside him. The shockwave flung him off his feet and blasted a crater where he had just been.
He coughed, bleeding, eyes wide.
"He's... cutting through buildings like paper…"
"Focus!" Yelleen barked in his mind. "Don't let him control the fight—stay unpredictable!"
Valerius gritted his teeth and rushed forward, ducking under another swing. The sword smashed into a stone pillar behind him—BOOM!—and the pillar exploded outward in a ring of smoke and broken rock.
Valerius struck—a punch aimed at Gavurn's gut.
Gavurn twisted, dodging with ease, and elbowed Valerius in the side before pivoting into a ruthless slash. The blade tore through the cobblestones, the pressure alone sending Valerius flying into a wall. The stone cracked on impact.
He dropped to one knee, panting.
Gavurn advanced.
Another swing—SHINKK!—this time horizontal. The air screamed as the blade sliced through three wooden stalls behind Valerius, cutting them in half before he even moved. The ground trembled.
Valerius rolled aside, shoulder bleeding, and punched upward at Gavurn's chest. The knight caught his arm with one hand—then raised his sword with the other.
"It ends here."
SLASH!
A devastating diagonal strike tore across Valerius's torso, the pressure alone cratering the ground beneath them. Blood sprayed in a crimson arc. The shockwave shattered the remains of a nearby wall, sending it toppling behind them.
Just as Gavurn's sword carved through Valerius's chest—
Time cracked.
Not the world, not the sky—time.
Valerius's body froze mid-air, pain evaporating into silence. The world around him blurred, colors drained, and all sensation vanished.
He found himself floating.
A boundless plane of darkness stretched in all directions—no sky, no floor, no horizon. There was no up, no down, only stillness. Cold. Vast. Eternal.
Then—
Cards.
One by one, they began to appear before him. Towering, weightless, twice his height. They flickered into existence at an impossible speed—hundreds, thousands—each one dark, featureless, hollow. Outlines of beings shimmered faintly within them—shadows of forgotten titans, warriors. All waiting.
Dormant.
Watching.
He was in the Temporal Plane.
The realm between time and fate—where the Kingdom Seed user called forth his champions to fight on his behalf. Provided, they have acknowledged him.
Among the countless dark cards, one rose.
It pulsed. Glowed.
It drifted forward, separating from the rest, hovering inches before Valerius's face. His breath caught as he saw the silhouette inside—a tall, cosmic figure shrouded in the stars.
He raised his right arm, almost instinctively.
Fingers trembling, he touched the card.
FLASH.
Color exploded.
The void ignited with light as the being inside was revealed: a man with skin of obsidian, speckled like the night sky—alive with galaxies. His hair swirled like a nebula. His eyes glowed a deep, unearthly violet. His presence bent the space around him.
Inscribed at the bottom of the card, in letters of radiant gold:
SOLOMON.
And then—
Valerius screamed as light engulfed him.
---
Back in the real world—
Gavurn stood tall, sword descending in a final arc.
Then—
SHRRRRRRIP.
A thin, brilliant line carved itself through the air—no, through space itself—just inches from Gavurn.
SLASH!
A flash of light.
Gavurn couldn't react.
Blood sprayed.
His right arm spun into the air, severed clean at the shoulder.
"Ghh—!!" Gavurn grunted, stumbling, pain coursing through him. He clutched the stump, eyes wide in disbelief.
Valerius hit the ground in a heap.
Behind him, the slash mark remained—a perfect seam of white-hot light etched into the air, crackling at the edges.
Then—
FINGERS.
Black, star-speckled fingers gripped the edges of the rift, pulling it apart like cloth. Each finger as big as Gavurn himself.
The tear widened.
Two hands—not made of flesh, but of cosmic matter, swirling with galaxies and burning with impossible energy—tore the seam wider.
On other side of the rift, a giant purple eye watched.
And then—
To Be Continued...