He reached into his dinsional space and pulled out his sword. The mont the blade appeared, the air around him beca terrifyingly sharp, as though space itself had turned into an invisible forest of unsheathed swords.
His aura did not explode outward.
It did not flare.
It simply beca absolute.
Max lifted his sword high toward the darkened sky. His grip tightened slightly, his eyes narrowing in understanding rather than anger.
His voice was calm and steady.
"Sky Shattering Invincibility Sword Art."
The heavens recoiled.
Every Divine Rank expert felt the sudden shift—an aura so refined, so lethal, so perfectly condensed that even space buckled lightly around him.
Max drew a long breath.
"One Sword—All Conquered."
The blade moved.
There was no dramatic surge of light, no earth-shaking roar, no explosion of power. Instead, the world grew unnaturally silent for a heartbeat.
Then the sword descended.
A single, precise, unbroken arc of silver-white light swept upward, striking the colossal red hand at the very center of its infinite mass.
The effect was instant—and terrifying.
The gigantic hand split cleanly in half. The cut was so fine that the two sides didn't fall apart imdiately; instead they drifted apart in stunned silence, like two severed wings waiting for gravity to rember they existed.
The entire Lower Domain held its breath.
Then Max's sword moved again—once, twice, a dozen more tis in a blur.
Each swing was effortless. Each stroke carried the 4th level Severing Sword Concept pushed right to the brink of 5th level. Each strike combined with the invincible montum of the Sky Shattering Sword's final form.
The result was indescribable.
The gigantic hand that lood over the continent shattered into thousands of thin slices. Every piece was cut with perfect symtry, delicate and sharp enough to reflect the dying sunlight.
A second later they disintegrated.
The fragnts turned into countless red glowing particles that drifted slowly down from the sky like crimson snow. The destructive force vanished. The pressure faded. The sky began to clear. The entire ocean cald as if nothing had happened.
The red snow continued falling, glowing faintly as it dissolved midair.
The leaders stood paralyzed.
So trembled.
So dropped their weapons.
So forgot how to breathe.
Victor Whiteclaw whispered, his voice barely audible. "He split… that thing with a single sword…"
Damian Xuan's scalp tingled. "And then cut it to dust."
Alexander Draconis swallowed dryly. "This is no longer the level of a peak Divine Rank…"
Only Aden stood firm, though his eyes were shaking. "This is the power of soone who has touched the boundary of concepts this world cannot contain…"
And above them, Max lowered his sword gently.
His posture relaxed.
His eyes remained calm.
As if he had just brushed aside a minor obstacle on a quiet morning walk.
The red snow continued to fall.
Mark stared at Max, his expression twisted into sothing no one present had seen from him before. Disbelief, irritation, amusent and a faint edge of sneering curiosity all collided in those crimson eyes.
For centuries he had stood at the peak of Acaris, untouchable, immortal and unequalled. Nothing surprised him. Nothing unsettled him. Nothing challenged him.
There had been only single individual who had gone toe-to-toe with him.
Lucien.
And now another one appeared.
Max had just taken his full-scale divine strike and erased it with a single sword.
For the first ti in an age, Mark's lips parted—not in rage, but in stunned bewildernt.
Then he laughed.
Not a soft chuckle, but a wild, rumbling laughter that shook the air itself. His voice echoed across the Lower Domain like the roar of a mad deity.
"Fascinating," he said between laughs. "Truly fascinating. To think that the child who piqued my interest years ago would reach such a level. I truly underestimated you."
His eyes sharpened suddenly. His laughter faded into a crooked smile that carried the weight of absolute arrogance.
"But you should rember sothing, Max," he continued slowly. "You are fighting a losing battle. Grow as strong as you wish. Refine your concepts to any degree you want. It will not change the outco. No matter how strong you beco, I will always be stronger than you, all of you. You couldn't even hope to imagine what sort of strength I wield at my fingertips."
He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to sothing distant.
"And if you set aside , there is an even bigger catastrophe waiting just beyond the horizon. Sothing not even I can fully subdue. If you knew what was coming, you would not be standing here so calmly."
His voice dropped into sothing cold and disdainful. "I truly wonder what kind of future awaits all of you."
The gathered leaders felt their hearts turn to ice. Their faces drained of color instantly. The terror in their eyes was unmistakable. Mark was not one to throw aningless threats. If he said sothing worse than him was coming, then it was the truth.
Why had they never heard of this "bigger problem"? Why had no one sensed it? What else existed beyond their perception?
Max, however, remained perfectly calm.
He studied Mark with steady eyes before speaking.
"I wonder what happens to you if this world disappears, Mark," Max said quietly. "Will you vanish with it? You are a crownbearer. Your strength is tied to this realm. You draw your authority from the laws of this planet. If this planet ceases to exist, I cannot imagine what becos of a being whose very existence is anchored to it."
Mark's expression twitched.
It was small.
Barely noticeable.
But Max caught it instantly.
The leaders saw it too, and their hearts trembled.
"What are you implying?" Mark asked sharply.
"I am not implying anything," Max replied with a shrug. "I'm simply curious. If this world disappears, what exactly becos of you? Do you retain your power? Do you fade? Do you die? Crownbearers exist because the world does. If the world is gone, then what?"
Mark's smile widened, but this ti there was an edge to his tone. "You should worry about yourself, Max. I am a god. I have many ans of surviving this disaster. But you mortals… I am curious what you will do when the sky collapses."
Max's expression did not change.
He simply tilted his head slightly.
"How about making a deal with us?"
Mark froze for a mont, then laughed again—this ti more softly, more cautiously.
"Oh?" he said. "You have a fragnt of my soul, don't you? Or perhaps Lucien does. So tell —what kind of deal do you want to make?"
His eyes flicked between Max and Lucien.
This ti, his smile held no arrogance.
Only interest.
Deadly, calculating interest.
And unlike before… he was listening.
User Comments
0 comments from readers