Epoch of Cinders wasn’t a domain of powerful attack. It was a domain of principles where Rhys set the rules, and those rules could change whenever he wanted.
When he activated it, the normal laws of the world beca useless here. This part of the world beca his personal place, governed by his personal laws.
It was flexible, as he could change the laws as he needed.
The two domains, one of raging crimson and the other of silent grey, strained against each other. The floating island groaned, threatening to shatter under the pressure of two competing realities.
Kaelen’s manic grin was gone, replaced by a look of utter disbelief.
’How is this possible?’ Kaelen muttered internally.
He could not comprehend it. His Origin Skill, the Sanguine Apocalypse, was the ultimate expression of his being.
It was a law born from millennia of demonic heritage and the lifetis of pain from millions of demons. It should have been unstoppable.
Yet, it was being held at a perfect stalemate.
The screaming souls in his blood storm were simply erased by Rhys’s black and silver fla. The corrosive blood that should have devoured everything was neutralised by the dead ash.
It was a perfect counter.
Unknown to Kaelen, it was not the doing of fla and ash; rather, Rhys had analysed the details of his domain with the system and made laws which could counter its functions.
"How?" Kaelen hissed, his voice a mixture of rage and disbelief. "How do you also have an Origin Skill?"
He no longer saw Rhys as a toy, or even as trash. He saw an equal. A rival. A monster that mirrored his own.
’How could the son of that man be ordinary?’ Kaelen licked his lips.
He thought about the fight. How could the Spark Fist, which was rely a low-level skill, beco Heaven-grade in Rhys’s hands?
If it was any other Heaven-grade skill, Kaelen would have blad Rhys’s father. He would have assud it was a hidden inheritance.
But the sudden appearance of the new Heaven-grade skill in the middle of combat that forced him to use his own Origin Skill, nullified that possibility.
A terrifying thought appeared in Kaelen’s mind as he defended against Rhys’s domain.
"You can evolve skills, can’t you?" he whispered in a voice only both of them could hear. This realisation shook him to his core.
Rhys was taken aback. Despite his surprise, he did not show any expression as he pushed his domain further.
"Oh... hiding secrets, huh," Kaelen’s voice turned cold. "Then I will just have to kill you and unravel the secret myself."
He poured all of his remaining power into the Sanguine Apocalypse. The crimson domain surged, the screaming souls within it growing louder, more desperate.
Rhys t his charge, his own Epoch of Cinders flaring with a silent, silver-black light. Their two domains pushed against each other, a sphere of raging crimson locked against a sphere of silent grey.
The floating island they stood on began to fracture under the strain of two competing realities.
The fight had reached a bottleneck. Neither of them could advance, and neither could retreat. They were locked in a battle of pure will.
Then, the world shook.
Thump...
It was not the tremor of their own power. This was sothing deeper, more ancient. A rhythmic, ponderous beat that seed to resonate in their very bones.
Seduction, who had been watching the duel with a lazy smile, was the first to react. She turned her head, her pink, heart-pupilled eyes looking towards the hazy horizon.
Her smile vanished, replaced by a delicate frown of annoyance.
’Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ she sighed. ’Can’t you see we’re busy?’
Thump...
The sound was closer now. Kaelen’s manic grin faltered.
He felt it too. A presence so imnse, so overwhelmingly powerful, that it made his own Origin Skill feel like a child’s tantrum.
Rhys’s domain of ash and fla wavered. He did not need the System to tell him what was coming. He had felt this presence before.
From the swirling, starlit void at the edge of the Sanctum, a shape erged. It was a mountain. A walking mountain of black rock. A huge shadow lood over them.
"The Titan..." Rhys whispered.
It moved slowly, its massive feet making no sound, yet each step sent a tremor through the very fabric of the Labyrinth.
It paid no attention to the clash of Origin Skills. It ignored the fracturing island. Its path was a straight, unwavering line, a course set thousands of years ago.
A course that would take it directly through the centre of their battlefield, destroying every island in its path.
Both of their expressions changed. It was not because of fear.
[Warning: Destruction of the Sanctum’s core islands will result in trial failure. All potential rewards will be voided.]
The Labyrinth’s announcent echoed in the minds of every challenger.
Rhys looked at Kaelen. The demon’s face was a mask of pure fury, not at the Titan, but at the situation.
He had co to the sa conclusion. If the Titan destroyed this place, their fight, their struggle, all of it would be for nothing.
They would lose.
They looked at each other. For a single, fleeting mont, the hatred between them was replaced by a shared, desperate understanding.
At the sa ti, they moved.
The two competing domains collapsed. Rhys and Kaelen shot forward, directly towards the approaching Titan.
The disciples watching from the other islands were stunned into silence.
’"Why are they rushing towards that monster?" one of the Sterling disciples asked in a choked whisper.
Anya Sterling stared, her mind unable to process what she was seeing.
"Don’t tell they’re going to fight that thing..."
Every disciple, from every family, had the sa horrified expression on their face. They had just witnessed a battle between two beings who could create their own laws of reality.
And now, those two monsters were teaming up to fight sothing even bigger.
"I am more curious," Daemon muttered, his voice low. "Will these lunatics even fight together to defeat that thing? They might even try to kill each other on the way."
Rhys was ahead, continuously using Low-distance Jump to move forward.
Kaelen followed just behind him, already launching reckless attacks. Torrents of blood energy and crimson flas slamd towards Rhys, who skilfully evaded them without losing speed.
’Sera, wait there without moving,’ Rhys commanded in his mind.
He heard the sulking voice of Sera complaining silently through their bond.
’I want to fight too.’
’You are weak,’ Rhys replied bluntly.
’Then can I fight with weaker opponents?’
’Yes. If you find any,’ Rhys answered, hoping Sera would find so scattered monsters on the islands to fight.
With the Behemoth by her side, he did not have to worry about her safety.
’Okay, Papa!’ Sera’s cheerful voice made him smile.
After disconnecting from Rhys, Sera turned to look towards the disciples of the great families.
She rubbed her palms together, mimicking Kaelen, who licked his lips whenever he was excited.
"Who’s weakest here?" a childlike voice echoed in the central plaza, sending a chill down the spines of the watching heirs.
Silence.
Everyone in the scene took a step back. Sera frowned, pursing her lips.
"Okay, since you guys are shy, let select one..." her eyes wandered among the disciples before stopping at Anya Sterling.
"You..."
And a wicked smile appeared on her cute face.
"...are the weakest."
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