He truly hadn’t expected Valtheron to still be this terrifying after all those years of imprisonnt.
But at this point, Zyraeth had no road left to retreat down.
One by one, the gems lit up in midair.
As Zyraeth kept pouring power in, they swelled rapidly, twisting, reshaping, dragging the world’s Primordial Force—and nearby materials—into a forced fusion.
One giant.
Three.
So wore layers of rock like armor. So glead with a dull, tallic darkness. Others pulsed with heavier, more volatile energy. But every single one of them was massive, and every single one carried a brutal pressure that made people’s throats tighten.
Valtheron’s face didn’t change at all.
The next second, the Primordial Core energy that had been surging in chaotic currents suddenly stilled—as if it had heard a higher summons.
All of it, at once, flooded toward the giants.
It was like the world itself had rolled over, reversing the flow and tearing away the strength those giants were borrowing.
The titans that had been radiating unstoppable montum froze mid-motion.
Their enormous fras shuddered, then gradually lost support. The materials that ford their shells began to peel off. The Primordial Force at their cores was forcibly extracted, stripped along the energy paths Valtheron controlled—layer after layer—until nothing remained but a dozen-plus gems restored to their original forms, hanging in the air, faintly glowing.
Those gems snapped back as if invisible threads had hooked them. They flew into his palm and settled there neatly.
He hadn’t even truly destroyed them. He’d simply pulled out the world’s power inside them, robbed them of any support, and returned them to their most harmless shape.
"Zyraeth. Don’t forget."
"These things were little toys I made back then."
"You’re using my own work against ." His eyes narrowed. "Do you realize how ridiculous that is?"
He really hadn’t imagined Valtheron could be this strong. This wasn’t just a gap in combat power—it was a more frightening kind of dominance, like being crushed at the source.
In Valtheron’s hands, they couldn’t even manage a decent struggle.
A woman—so stunning it ca off almost poisonous.
She lifted her chin, voice clear and cold.
The words made more than a few gazes around them tremble.
To him, this woman didn’t even qualify as a threat. He didn’t even care enough to give his own na.
Violent power spilled out.
The air warped in front of it. Light itself seed pressed thinner. Kaeskutal hadn’t even gotten the chance to truly make a move before that force swallowed her whole.
But then, in the very next beat, the power around her shifted.
It happened insanely fast—like a cloud of smoke blown apart but still holding onto its will, wrenching itself free from the energy wrap by sheer instinct and control.
Clearly, he hadn’t expected this woman—soone who looked like she deserved to be slapped to death without a second thought—to have a trick like that.
He still didn’t panic. He didn’t even change the size of his movents. He just kept his palm raised.
It sank.
Moisture in the air, flowing energy, even the dust drifting around them—everything got dragged into that chill at once.
The freezing happened almost instantly.
Not a surface frost.
Valtheron looked at her, his tone so indifferent he couldn’t even be bothered to fully commit to mocking her.
He lifted a single finger and tapped downward, lightly.
The next second, power detonated from inside the ice.
Ice chips and torn flesh burst outward through the air. She didn’t even have ti to leave behind a complete scream.
And Zyraeth—truthfully—felt the urge to retreat.
Valtheron’s pressure was too overwhelming. So overwhelming that Zyraeth’s instincts kept screaming that turning around and leaving right now might be the safest option.
His army was assembled here.
So he had no choice.
Fight a brutal, head-on battle.
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