Chapter 478: Horizon Split
Until now, the pressure he had been releasing—terrifying and overwhelming as it was—had only been a half-asure. A shell. A controlled fragnt of the true Concept that churned inside him. He had held back for a reason. Two, in fact.
The first was simple—power. He needed ti to channel every last drop of mana, to drain his body completely so that when he finally unleashed the true Concept, it would be at its maximum potential, sharp enough to sever not just matter or energy—but intention, fate, and certainty. He needed the strike to carry everything. The full weight of his will. The culmination of his path.
But the second reason… the second reason was far more dangerous.
Because if he had revealed the full Concept of Severing Sword too early, Drevon—with his experience and monstrous instinct—might’ve sensed the danger. Might have understood the sheer lethality behind the true form of the Concept.
And if that had happened, Max knew what would follow. Drevon wouldn’t wait. He wouldn’t hesitate. He might have interrupted the build-up. Might have attacked, crushed, or killed Max outright before he could even finish summoning the blow.
So Max had gambled.
He let Drevon believe he had already shown his hand, let him stand there with that arrogant smile, believing he could withstand it. All the while, Max had been bleeding every drop of his essence into his blade, feeding it with raw mana, letting the Concept fernt into sothing far more potent. And now, with his body nearly drained, the ti had co.
He let it detonate.
The full weight of the Concept of Severing Sword dropped like an invisible guillotine across the entire battlefield.
It was instantaneous.
One breath they stood—warriors, leaders, commanders, experts—and in the next, every single soul felt it: the cold edge of a blade pressed lightly but unmistakably against their throats.
Not physically. Not sothing they could see. But deep in their instincts, in the most primal part of their being, they knew—if they so much as twitched, they would be severed.
A suffocating silence swept across the skies. Thousands hovered frozen mid-air, motionless, eyes wide and pupils shaking.
Even the strongest—the battle-hardened Expert Rank leaders, the proud demons, the ancient elven generals, the seasoned human warriors—stood utterly still, as if ti itself had halted.
No one blinked. No one breathed too deeply. It felt like death was a mont away, not from a visible strike, but from an intent so sharp, so absolute, that it didn’t need to land to kill.
Sweat drenched every back.
Not a single individual on that battlefield dared to move. Because in that mont, it felt as if Max—floating high in the heavens with his sword raised—was no longer just a person. He had beco the sword itself. And the sword had chosen to draw a line through life and death.
The very world held its breath.
And not a soul, not even Drevon, could pretend this was anything less than what it was—
A killing blow poised to fall on everything.
And then, just as the crushing weight of the true Concept of Severing Sword blanketed the battlefield, so sharp and absolute that it made even the strongest feel one wrong breath could split their necks open—Max vanished.
One mont he was a figure suspended in the sky, consud in the brilliance of his blade, and in the silent impending doom he appeared right before Drevon.
The Young Monarch was still reeling from the shockwave of Max’s overwhelming presence, the sheer force of the concept pushing against him, leaving him montarily disoriented.
But it was only for a fraction of a second. Max, already in motion, swung his sword downward with a force so focused, so refined, that the air around him tore. The sound of the blade cutting through the air was like the scream of a shattered world.
“Concept of Severing Sword – Horizon Split!” Max’s voice rang out with a finality that echoed through the battlefield, his sword descending in a perfect arc, gleaming with destructive intent.
Drevon’s eyes snapped wide with the realization of what was happening. He had barely recovered from the initial shockwave of Max’s presence when the true attack ca crashing down. This was different—this was the full power of the Concept of Severing Sword, the embodint of destruction, a force that could cut through everything.
“Damn!” Drevon’s teeth gritted as he barely had enough ti to react. His body moved on instinct, pulling his sword from its sheath in a single, fluid motion, the blade shimring with the gathered energy of a monarch.
He raised it just in ti to block the incoming strike, but the sheer force of Max’s attack sent shockwaves through his entire body.
The mont Max’s sword collided with Drevon’s, the heavens scread.
There was no drawn-out struggle, no back-and-forth exchange of techniques—just one swing. One perfect, devastating swing fueled by every ounce of Max’s mana and will, guided by the sharp, absolute truth of the Concept of Severing Sword.
The instant the two blades clashed, a deafening crack split the sky—not the sound of tal eting tal, but the sound of sothing being broken beyond repair.
And then, in that one, heart-stopping instant, Drevon’s sword shattered.
Cleanly. Effortlessly.
The thick, reinforced monarchic blade—revered and feared across the Lower Domain—was severed in half, right down the middle.
One half spun off into the sky like a discarded scrap of iron, the other remained clutched in Drevon’s stunned grip, glowing with flickers of ruptured energy before crumbling into sparks.
But Max’s blade didn’t stop there.
It continued downward, riding the full montum of his strike, the edge flashing with unstoppable killing intent. The sheer pressure of the Concept surged forward like a wave, and in the very next mont, Drevon was blasted out of the sky—a monarch turned into a falling star.
He was launched like a teor, his body a blur of red light streaking through the atmosphere. The air ignited around him from the speed and pressure. And then—
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