Dust still hung heavy in the air where the giant’s massive palm had crushed the group of Grandmasters into the ground. The impact crater stretched wide, cracks stretched out like fireworks.
But hope died quickly.
The giant bent forward, deathmist pouring from its towering form like a tide. It crouched low, and in a terrifyingly casual motion, it reached into the crater with its colossal hand.
The mist churned violently, coiling around its fingers like serpents, and when the hand came back up, it held two struggling figures, Grandmasters clutched like broken dolls. Their Essence flared desperately, but the mist swarmed over them, smothering their light.
At the same time, the dwarf moved. It strode toward the crater while picking up the fallen hammer mid way. The moment it reached the edge, it swung at a lone Grandmaster who had tried to crawl free from the rubble.
The hammer came down like a falling star.
BOOM!
The ground erupted. The Grandmaster’s body simply... ceased. One moment there was a man, the next there was nothing but a smear of broken Essence devoured instantly by the mist.
Above, the giant squeezed its fists tighter.
"Ahhh—!" the two Grandmasters it held screamed.
But the sound was cut short as deathmist surged into their mouths, their noses, their eyes. Their bodies convulsed violently, and in seconds their struggles weakened. Then, with a final shudder, they fell limp.
The mist did the rest, stripping them to nothing, leaving only armor and bones that turned to ash as the corruption consumed them.
I couldn’t look away.
Three Grandmasters were gone in a few seconds. Their lives, their strength, swallowed and added to the monsters that stood before us.
"Lightning Art: Red Sundering."
A voice rang out like thunder across the battlefield, and I felt my chest tighten.
BOOM!
The sky split apart as two beams of red lightning screamed down through the storm. They carved through the black clouds, tearing them wide open, and the world shook as if the heavens themselves were breaking. The air cracked and splintered, each bolt descending so fast I could barely follow it with my eyes.
Their targets were clear. The Phantoms.
The giant didn’t hesitate. It pulled back its massive arm and hurled a punch straight at the falling lightning. The dwarf spun with unnatural speed, swinging its warhammer upward to meet the other beam.
The collisions were deafening. Sparks of red and black clashed, filling the sky with light. For an instant, the world froze, two forces of power and death colliding above us.
Then, the lightning won.
The beams tore straight through, blasting down on the Phantoms. The giant staggered, forced down onto one knee, its red eyes glowing dimmer for the first time.
The dwarf was slammed into the ground, vanishing into a crater so wide it swallowed half the battlefield. The ground shook, dirt and stone rising like waves from the impact.
The Emperor’s voice cut through the storm.
"Do not relent. Attack!"
The grandmasters roared, their shock drowned out by fury. They surged forward as one, blades and skill flashing, aiming to crush the dwarf while it was still buried in the crater.
But then, a voice colder than death itself slid into my ears.
"You really think you can just ignore me?"
I turned, eyes snapping to the other side of the battlefield.
The leader of the Phantoms stood there, untouched, calm, as if the chaos around it meant nothing.
Its body was wrapped in deathmist, two glowing red lines burning on its face while the third remained dim. Around it, the strongest warriors of the Empire, everyone except Dante, had already encircled it, weapons raised, power ready to strike.
"[Solar Ray: Twin Verdicts!]" Cassian’s voice thundered.
Blinding light burst from the sky. Two colossal spears of light descended cutting through the storm and splitting the clouds apart.
Arkas moved next, his voice echoing like thunder.
"[Collapsing Heaven.]"
The air cracked apart as Essence surged. Lightning and space folded in on themselves, condensing into a crushing weight above the Phantom.
Then the Emperor raised his axe. His roar shook the battlefield, raw and primal.
"[Lightning Art: Twin Destruction!]"
The weapon swelled in his grip, its edge gleaming brighter than the sun. From its arc burst two colossal bolts of lightning—one red, one blue.
They twisted together like serpents, coiling around one another as they screamed forward. The twin bolts tore apart air as they moved.
Above, Cassian’s sunfire roared down like judgment. From the side, Arkas’s collapsing lightning rushed in. And from below, the Emperor’s splitting axe thundered with destruction.
Three forces. Three Grandmasters at their peak. All converging on the same foe.
And then...
The Phantom raised its hand. Slowly. Casually. As if brushing aside a strand of hair. With a single finger, it traced the air.
"Cut."
One word. That was all.
A black slash was born, like ink spilled on paper. It lashed out and touched the converging forces.
There was no explosion, no thunderous clash. Just silence. The attacks were snuffed out like candles in a storm, their brilliance fading to nothing as the black slash carved through them and kept going.
The mightiest techniques of three Grandmasters... erased as if they never existed.
Around me, silence fell. Even the storm above seemed to hesitate.
The Phantom’s voice rolled over us, steady and cold.
"[Domain: Breathing Mist Forest.]"
A ripple burst from his body, spreading across the battlefield. The earth quivered. Then the ground itself began to breathe. Thick, choking deathmist seeped upward, spreading like smoke from invisible cracks.
Before anyone could react, the soil tore apart. Black tendrils of mist burst free like roots from a nightmare, coiling upward with terrifying speed.
They lashed onto the legs of the Grandmasters who floated above, dragging them down before they could even counter. Their bodies slammed into the ground with bone-shattering force.
Damian, the Emperor’s loyal guard, flared with lightning.
His entire body became a storm, crackling and burning against the tendrils. But it was useless. The roots latched tighter, and in a blink the lightning was sucked away. His aura flickered, and the mighty warrior was crushed to his knees like a child.
On the other side, Edgar’s shadows swelled and twisted, rising like blades in defense. Yet before his attack could even take shape, the deathmist tendrils constricted. His power was stolen, devoured, leaving him struggling, helpless in their grip.
"In my domain, no one breathes unless I allow it." Its voice was calm.
"Say your farewells."
The tendrils tightened, coiling around every Grandmaster and hoisting them into the air like puppets dangling from black strings. Their bodies thrashed, their auras flared, but it was useless.
One by one they tried to summon Essence, desperate to break free. Skills lit up for the briefest moment, but the tendrils breathed like living beasts, devouring the power before it could take form. The harder they struggled, the faster their strength was stolen.
The deathmist thickened, smothering the battlefield, each breath heavier than the last.
"It’s useless," the Phantom said, its voice almost gentle. "Struggle all you like. In the end, you will belong to me. Let me assimilate you... and together we will walk the path of greatness."
The Phantom took another step forward, then paused mid-stride.
"Hmmm?" A questioning sound escaped from its faceless helm, low and strange. Its head tilted slightly.
"Didn’t I say no hiding?"
It snapped its fingers.
In an instant, Dante appeared, dragged out of the space and forced into the center of its domain.
He was on his knees. The wound across his chest still bled freely, and now dark streaks of blood dripped from his lips.
His skin looked pale, his shoulders hunched, and looked even older.
The Phantom stared down at him.
"I will keep you alive. I am curious about you."
Dante lifted his head slowly. Each breath was ragged, painful. He forced a crooked smile even as blood stained his teeth.
"Sure... if you don’t die first."
The Phantom tilted its head again as if amused. But before it could speak, the battlefield shook with a sharp cry.
A piercing bird’s call tore through the air, so loud and clear it silenced the roars of deathmist. My heart leapt to my throat.
Then—BOOM!
The clouds, dark and heavy, shattered apart. The swirling deathmist above was blasted away as if swept aside by a divine hand.
I raised my head, eyes wide, and felt something I thought I had lost return to me. Hope.
There, high above the battlefield, stood Billion.
He balanced on Silver’s back, the bird’s wings stretched wide and glowing with crimson mist. Billion’s long coat whipped violently in the storm winds. His hair, now reaching his shoulders, whipped in the storm winds, sharp and untamed like the look in his eyes.