The first strike was not seen, only felt.
Prismarine fire clashed against lightning, the collision ripping the air into ribbons of shrieking light. The void chamber cracked like glass struck by a hammer, obsidian walls bleeding streams of indigo flame as the two titans met.
Vemy's gauntlets, blazing like molten crystal, met Akiar's blade in a storm of sparks. The sound was deafening, yet beneath it was something worse—a silence that ate the world around them. The moment their powers touched, all other noise ceased, as if existence itself dared not interfere.
"Vemy!" Akiar's voice thundered over the storm. "The Thirteenth Ring is forbidden for a reason! Every bearer who touched it—consumed!"
Vemy pushed back, his feet grinding against fractured stone. His eyes gleamed, not with fear, but with something deeper—resolve sharpened into rebellion.
"Then I'll be the first to master it. The first to wield it without breaking."
Prismarine flames coiled around his body, forming wings of living fire. Each feather shimmered between colors—azure, silver, indigo—like shards of glass cutting the void.
Akiar's eyes narrowed. "You're too arrogant to see it. You think this power is freedom—but it's the flame of annihilation!"
He swung his blade. A hurricane of lightning burst forth, ripping through the chamber like a tidal wave of storms. Vemy braced himself, Prismarine fire surging into a shield. The wave struck, engulfing him, shredding walls, collapsing platforms—
—but when the smoke cleared, Vemy still stood. His shield had shattered, yes, but his fists burned brighter, fiercer, more alive than ever.
"Chains. Balance. Fear." Vemy's voice was low, steady. "That's what keeps you weak, Akiar. I'm done being weak."
With a roar, he lunged.
The collision shook the chamber again. Fist met blade, fire met storm, each clash erasing chunks of reality around them. Shadows of Thrones leaned forward on their balcony, their whispers echoing like judgment:
"The Prismarine devours the void."
"The cycle is unraveling."
"He may open the path to the Ring God…"
Their voices were drowned out by the storm below.
Akiar twisted, his blade catching Vemy's gauntlet and sending sparks raining down. He kicked forward, striking Vemy in the chest. The force hurled him backward, smashing him into a collapsing pillar. Blood dripped from his lips—but when he stood, the Prismarine flames pulsed stronger, as if feeding on his wounds.
Vemy wiped his mouth, grinning through blood. "Is that all? You're supposed to be my rival, Akiar. Show me why I should fear you."
The taunt struck a nerve. For the first time, Akiar's composure cracked. His storm aura spiraled, no longer controlled, and his blade screamed with lightning like an enraged dragon.
"You want fear?" His voice roared like thunder. "Then drown in it!"
The chamber twisted. Lightning tore through the void, shattering fragments of obsidian into an endless abyss. The ground beneath them was gone—only floating ruins, suspended in a sea of fire and storm.
And there, suspended above destruction, two figures clashed again.
Prismarine wings vs. storm blade.
Every strike bending space, every blow shattering stone.
But then—something else stirred.
From the cracks of the void, a different flame seeped through. Not Prismarine. Not storm. Something blacker, heavier, hungrier.
Both Vemy and Akiar froze for a heartbeat as a fissure split open behind them. The fire that bled from it was not flame at all—it was absence, the hunger of a void older than the Thrones themselves.
The whisper that followed was not of the Thrones, nor of any man. It was a voice that cut straight through their bones:
"The Thirteenth Ring was not meant for mortals… yet you call to me."
The chamber darkened. Even the Thrones above fell silent, their crowns of flame flickering as if snuffed by fear.
Vemy's Prismarine fire flared in defiance, but deep inside, his heartbeat faltered. Akiar's grip on his blade trembled, his storm aura sputtering.
The fissure widened.
And something—someone—began to crawl through.
Cliffhanger End – Chapter 26