Rhaegor-Kul (Supre Commander of Alliance) POV
Rhaegor-Kul’s steps echoed like thunder across the polished stone of the Alliance citadel.
Each stride was heavy enough that the floor seed to groan beneath him.
His mind was not on the path he walked, but on the words his vice-commander had spoken to him earlier.
"He is the son of Pri Death, huh?" Rhaegor-Kul muttered under his breath, the weight of the statent clinging to him like a curse.
Pri Death’s na was enough to make the boldest Supre pause.
That being had always existed like a scythe of death above the cosmos, unmoving, silent, and yet impossible to forget.
Everyone understood that as long as no great sin was committed, Pri Death would remain in his sleep.
That truth was the only fortune for the Alliance and its leaders.
Because if Pri Death had ever chosen to act in vengeance for his son’s sake...
Rhaegor-Kul flexed his massive hands, causing the air to creak around them.
"Perhaps the Alliance wouldn’t even be standing right now," he admitted grimly.
He forced his focus to shift.
Pri Death wasn’t the only matter to dwell on.
"Heavenbreaker," he muttered, eyes narrowing. "That man is dangerous. How did he reach Stage 6 so quickly?"
The thought alone was maddening.
Be Supres, or mortals, everyone understood how difficult the leap from Stage 5 to Stage 6 was supposed to be.
So spent entire ages clawing toward that stage, yet the Heavenbreaker had forced his way up at unnatural speed.
Rhaegor-Kul’s mind briefly entertained the comparison.
"Is he as Realm Divinity God like the Machine God?"
The idea was imdiately dismissed.
Heavenbreakers could not beco Realm Divinity Gods.
Their very foundation was different.
The Supre Commander exhaled heavily, shaking his head. That answer only left more questions.
When he finally entered the palace, servants and aides bowed quickly, scurrying aside as the giant figure strode past them.
His secretary approached, a thin woman with sharp eyes and steady hands.
She carried a tablet filled with docunts, already reciting his schedule.
"Supre Commander, today’s agenda includes three military councils, two strategic briefings, and private discussions with seven representatives. There is also a list of petitioners seeking audience. Most are minor lords or researchers, but the list is long."
She showed him the digital board, nas scrolling down in glowing text.
Rhaegor-Kul’s gaze swept over them quickly, but his eyes froze when they landed on the last entry—the lowest priority.
"Read this one aloud," he ordered, his voice rumbling.
The secretary blinked, then read the na softly.
Rhaegor-Kul frowned.
His eyes sharpened in a way that made the woman falter, just slightly.
"This man has a special existence," he said, his tone weighted. "Only those at Stage 6 and above can perceive that. Do you understand what that ans?"
Her lips parted, but no words ca out at first.
When she managed to speak, her voice held a tremor she tried to disguise. "Is... is he a reclusive powerhouse?"
"Yes," Rhaegor-Kul confird. "Only people from the era of the universe’s creation wield techniques like this. Call him. I will et him first."
The secretary bowed quickly, moving with renewed urgency.
Rhaegor-Kul remained still for a long mont, staring at the list before him.
He did not understand why such a being would co to him now.
Nonetheless, he held no fear in eting such a mysterious figure.
Those from the universe creation era were powerful—unimaginably so—but the current era was not weak either.
The present had forged its own heights.
The knowledge of the ancients had been dissected, reshaped, and improved.
Concepts and techniques were more refined.
Technology reached further than ever.
In truth, gods of the sa rank now were stronger than gods of the sa rank back then.
Or so Rhaegor-Kul and many others believed.
A short ti later, he strode into the eting hall prepared for the mysterious visitor.
The heavy doors opened, and as soon as he stepped inside, his expression hardened.
The air was wrong.
Across the chamber, a man stood, or rather, a figure that should have been a man.
His body was swallowed entirely by thick, rolling smoke.
Even his existence seed dimd, and blurred, as if the world itself refused to acknowledge him.
But that wasn’t what tightened Rhaegor-Kul’s chest.
Two other presences lingered in the room.
They were not visible, yet to soone of his level, their weight was undeniable.
No, they wanted him to feel the weight of their existence.
They were letting him sense them.
Rhaegor-Kul straightened. His aura rose slightly in return.
His voice was steady when he addressed the smoky man.
"Did you bring these distinguished guests along with you?"
The figure did not answer.
Instead, one of the invisible presences laughed.
A booming sound reverberated through the hall like rolling thunder.
"Hahaha! See, Bram, this creature knows how to pay respect to us!"
Another voice, colder and heavier, followed. "Indeed, Kram. I was considering tearing him apart if he dared speak with insolence. But since he referred to us as distinguished guests, I shall let him live."
The two presences shifted, and in the next instant, they revealed themselves.
Rhaegor-Kul’s eyes narrowed.
Two gigantic dragons materialized.
Their bodies stretched impossibly large.
The space air bent around them as they compressed their colossal forms to fit within the room.
Their scales glead with a dull luster. They were battle-worn and scarred. Their wings carried tears and holes.
And yet their presence—overwhelming, crushing—was beyond question.
Rhaegor-Kul’s teeth ground together. His voice was low, and grim.
"Ancient Dragons..."
He steadied his posture, and his aura surged, clashing against theirs.
"How did you co here?"
The words had barely left him when their auras erupted.
The pressure expanded violently, crashing against the walls and ceiling like invisible storms.
Their eyes glowed like molten suns, fury rising at what they took as insolence.
The figure raised a hand quickly. "Calm down. This is not the ti—"
The reaction was imdiate.
Their rage turned on him.
Reviews
All reviews (0)