"Great Mother... hear my call—and destroy my enemies!"
Above the skies of Londor, one of the most formidable techniques ever witnessed was unleashed.
Maskith summoned a colossal phantom of a woman, her entire form shrouded in darkness.
The sheer volume of aura required for her manifestation was monstrous ...so overwhelming that a crushing pressure descended upon every living being within her domain.
Alexander Rybak bore the brunt of that pressure.
After all, he was the one who dared stand face-to-face against the ancient figure known as Maskith.
Yet despite the suffocating weight and the terrifying power on display, Alexander did not hesitate.
He surged forward at a frightening speed—only to find something unexpected.
The phantom... was watching him.
Tracking him.
As if time itself had slowed for her gaze.
And then ...
Without warning, her palm struck.
It came down with brutal force, offering him no chance to evade, no room to counter.
Raising his arms to block, Alexander was immediately overwhelmed—his body driven into the ground, dragged across the land, smashing through dozens of mountains in a single, continuous impact.
Yet the warrior of the Shadow Sect rose instantly.
He did not remain down for even a heartbeat.
His domineering, black-armored body stood uninjured despite the devastating blow.
Still... the sheer speed and raw force of the phantom left him genuinely surprised.
"Her durability... and her speed... they’re not normal," Alexander muttered under his breath, tightening his iron fist as aura erupted from it.
"I’ll crush her... in a single strike."
Lowering his stance, bending his knees, he prepared himself.
Gathering every ounce of explosive force within his body, Alexander launched himself like a missile ...
the ground beneath him detonating as he erased the distance between himself and Maskith in an instant.
The moment he closed in, the phantom moved again.
This time, it threw a thunderous punch straight at him.
But Alexander was ready.
He struck back.
His explosive fist collided with the phantom’s, and a massive detonation roared from the impact.
Blue, flame-like aura surged violently from within Alexander, while the phantom retaliated with a vast torrent of dark aura.
The two forces clashed in a brutal contest of power ...
a collision so immense it birthed earthquakes and natural disasters across the battlefield.
Alexander gritted his teeth.
Then ...
He unleashed a deafening war cry that shook the heavens themselves.
Compared to the phantom, his size was insignificant ... like an ant before a titan.
The difference between them was unnatural... overwhelming.
And yet ... That "ant" began to push back.
Before Maskith’s very eyes, Alexander Rybak gained ground in the clash, forcing the massive phantom backward.
The old man’s expression tightened in shock.
"The Great Mother’s Phantom... is my strongest aura technique... and yet he can resist it? Just who is this man...?"
With a flick of his staff, Maskith shifted the phantom’s movement.
It withdrew its fist ... then struck again with its other arm, sending Alexander flying.
But in less than a second—
He was already back.
Unaffected. Unshaken.
Drawing in all the surrounding air into his iron lungs, Alexander threw another nuclear-level punch ...
a devastating blast that tore into the phantom’s massive form.
Yet she endured.
And responded.
Her own strike came crashing down, sending him flying once more.
He hit the ground ...
And instantly rebounded.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The cycle repeated at terrifying speed.
He struck the ground in one instant, only to return to the sky in the next ...
to clash with the phantom once more.
The sequence blurred into a relentless exchange.
At some point, Alexander’s form could no longer be seen ...
he became nothing more than a streak of light, bouncing between sky and earth in a continuous storm of impact.
Destruction spread across a vast radius.
Aura exploded in impossible quantities.
Storms raged, hurricanes formed—engulfing the entire battlefield.
Seeing the absurd resilience of that monster, Maskith extended his hand toward the phantom, pouring even more of his immense aura reserves into it.
Its power surged.
Its durability increased.
Its strikes grew even more ferocious.
And yet...
Nothing changed.
No matter how many blows it delivered, Alexander returned ...
his dark metallic body completely unscathed.
"What... is that body made of?"
Alexander Rybak was no ordinary being.
Especially that body of his.
A body forged to be the strongest... the most indestructible within the Shadow Sect....
a body that no one could wield... except him.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!
Hundreds of nuclear punches detonated as Alexander struck again and again, blasting the phantom repeatedly ...
yet her dark form endured it all.
He could not destroy her.
Amid the raging storms of aura and the violent turbulence born from their continuous clashes...
Alexander found himself shaken by the sheer power of his opponent’s technique.
’Every punch I throw carries enough destructive force to annihilate advanced SSS-stage fighters in a single hit...
and yet... this old man’s technique withstands it—and matches me in raw force...’
For the first time, he faced an opponent he did not understand.
Unlike Vayne and Vex... whom he had already dealt with.
As the brutal clash continued, his eyes drifted almost instinctively ... toward the distant tomb.
The place he had deliberately kept the battlefield away from.
’My king... still needs time.’
’Until he returns completely... I must ensure no one interferes.’
His resolve hardened.
Power surged through his entire being as his aura exploded outward like a raging tide.
"I will not let anyone pass me—"
"Even if it costs me my life!!"
Alexander Rybak stood firm in the sky, placing himself directly between the phantom and the tomb.
The dark entity struck again ... stronger than any previous blow.
But this time...
Alexander did not counter.
He stood still.
Unmoving.
Hardening his body, tightening his fists ... gathering every ounce of strength within him.
And then ... The phantom’s fist crashed into him directly.
A massive shockwave erupted from his back, tearing through everything behind him ...
reducing all in its path to dust.
The force unleashed through that strike... belonged to an entirely different tier of power.
Yet Maskith’s eyes widened in genuine shock when he saw Alexander Rybak’s body remain fixed in the sky ... completely unmoved, not even a fraction of an inch.
The phantom woman’s fist rebounded off him, unable to push him back, leaving her exposed right before him.
And in that fleeting instant... the opportunity was seized.
Alexander inhaled sharply, drawing in the surrounding air as his eyes ignited with blazing blue flames.
" Supreme Art: Zero Punch!!!"
Both fists shot forward at once, releasing the full extent of his power in a single, catastrophic burst.
Alexander Rybak’s combat style had always been deceptively simple—compress an overwhelming amount of aura into an impossibly small space...
Then detonate it through his punches at extreme speed.
That was the secret behind those blinding explosions.
But Zero Punch... was something else entirely.
It operated on the same principle ... only the scale was magnitudes higher.
The aura condensed into that strike was dozens of times greater than before.
The moment it landed, the phantom’s chest and abdomen exploded apart instantly ...
her massive form collapsing before Maskith’s very eyes.
"Alexander Rybak’s style... Supreme art!!"
Maskith had no time to even process the destruction of his phantom.
Alexander was already upon him—closing the distance in an instant, as if that entity had never mattered at all.
Before him, Alexander formed a blazing sphere ... like a miniature celestial body ... then drew his fist back.
"Oblivion Ray!"
The instant his fist struck the sphere, it detonated violently ...
transforming into a roaring beam of condensed aura that pierced straight through the gaping hole in the phantom’s body...
and surged directly toward Maskith.