Zyraeth understood the severity imdiately.
At this point, he couldn’t afford pride or appearances. He went all-in, frantically gathering every shred of power he had, trying anything—anything—to keep his soul intact.
As long as the soul survived, there was still a chance. Rebuild a body. Claw his way back to life.
But he realized almost at once—
It wouldn’t work.
The runes on that sword had already sealed his flesh and soul together.
It wasn’t just a stab through the heart. The mont the blade made contact, it nailed him into a single, inseparable whole—body and spirit fused into the sa dood package.
If the sword’s power surged one more ti, he’d be erased completely. Flesh to soul, ground down until there wasn’t even a trace left.
"Valtheron!"
Real fear finally broke through Zyraeth’s voice.
"Don’t forget—back then, I spared you! I let you live until today! Don’t you owe the sa?"
Valtheron still didn’t answer.
He simply kept pushing power.
Endless Primordial Force and golden runes pressed down the blade in layers, like countless heavy, razor-edged chains drilling inward—following the wound, burrowing through bone, threading into the fractures of Zyraeth’s soul.
This wasn’t "damage."
It was deletion.
The next instant, a shriek tore out—so sharp it made the sky tremble.
Zyraeth’s body began to collapse at a visible pace. The cracks spread, widened, multiplied, until he looked like a statue pushed past its limit—then shattered from the inside.
Not long after, the once-lofty Supre Deity turned to ash before everyone’s eyes, scattering into the world’s wind.
Not even a single intact piece remained.
On the distant battlefield, the rest of Elysion’s forces saw it and froze.
No one had expected their Supre Deity to be killed so... easily.
The shock didn’t even have ti to beco comprehension. So of them were still stuck in the middle of attack motions, muscles tensed—yet their minds had gone blank and their bodies had locked up.
Before they could recover, Valtheron’s power rolled out again.
This ti it was wider.
And colder.
It climbed into the sky and spread fast, blanketing the heavens. Light itself seed pressed down, and even the far edges of the battlefield dimd as if the world had been smothered.
"You rats who crawl in the dark."
Valtheron’s voice layered across the sky, low and echoing like it ca from the bottom of a pit.
"It was your betrayal that left sealed away all these years."
He slowly raised a hand, eyes sweeping over the mass of Elysion soldiers below—now visibly breaking into panic.
"Today, you’ll pay for what you did."
He didn’t even need to finish the sentence.
People were already shaking.
Ethan felt the wrongness instantly.
He knew exactly what happened when an existence on Valtheron’s level stopped holding back and truly let killing intent loose. So he turned and barked orders almost imdiately, telling everyone under him to pull back—now—no exceptions.
"Fall back!"
The command rippled out, and Erald Castle’s side widened the distance at once.
And almost the mont they cleared out—
Valtheron’s power ca down.
It wasn’t a single attack. It wasn’t even a normal area bombardnt. It was like the space itself—and the Primordial Force in the region—had aligned as one and targeted the Elysion army.
Everyone who was still standing there was wrapped up in the force at the sa ti.
Then the compression started.
Shoulders and chests caved inward first. Then bones, flesh, and organs were crushed toward the center together, ground down by an invisible press.
A lot of them didn’t even get a full scream out before their bodies lost their shape. Not long after, half the battlefield detonated in an instant.
Blood mist and shredded at burst in every direction, painting the already brutal plain a deeper red.
It was too bloody.
Even Ethan couldn’t help frowning hard as he kept backing up with the people around him.
But Valtheron clearly had no intention of stopping. He hung in the sky, expression cold, continuing to release that almost absolute power of slaughter.
Worry slowly crept into Ethan’s eyes.
Because he’d already thought it through.
If Valtheron finished slaughtering these people and still didn’t rein it in—if he smoothly turned that killing intent on them next—then everything would get ugly fast.
Valtheron was just too strong. In Erald Castle as it stood now, there wasn’t a single person who could face him head-on.
If it ca to a straight collision—
The entire Erald Castle army could be wiped out right here.
And for the mont, no one could stop him.
Before long, Elysion’s forces were completely exterminated.
Across the whole plain, not a single enemy was left standing.
Only wide sars of blood, shattered armor, collapsed ground, and lingering streams of leftover energy remained, mixing in the wind into a silence so heavy it felt oppressive.
Valtheron hovered in the sky, his chest rising and falling. Even he had clearly paid a price.
He took a few rough breaths.
Then he suddenly threw his head back and laughed.
There was a release in that laughter—years of pressure finally bursting open—along with a lightness that edged close to madness.
"Finally. Those bastards are dead."
He slowly spread his arms, like he was embracing the sky again.
"From this mont on—"
"I’m truly free."
Ethan steadied his breathing, forcing it even.
Then he layered every bit of power he could mobilize across the surface of his Powered Combat Armor and brought every weapons system online.
Runes and lines across the suit lit up in sequence. Cold tal sheen, energy surging underneath—ready to detonate at a thought.
Only after that did he rise and drift to Valtheron’s level, voice controlled, steady.
"Now that Zyraeth and his people are dead, you’re the real master here." Ethan looked at him without a hint of probing. "I’ll imdiately withdraw the Erald Castle forces."
After he said it, he didn’t even pause—he was already about to turn and issue the order for a full retreat.
But in the next instant, Valtheron reached out and grabbed his arm.
Ethan’s eyes flashed. Instinctively, his power started to rise—
But there was no hostility in Valtheron’s grip. That hand simply held him in place, firm and steady. Then Valtheron’s voice dropped.
"I’ve been sealed in that dungeon for too many years. I lost my rule over this world a long ti ago." Valtheron didn’t look back at the battlefield. His gaze fell on the natives farther away. "Besides... they’ve already accepted you as their master. If you pull out now, are you really going to leave them here?"
Ethan froze.
He looked up at Valtheron, a clear edge of scrutiny—and sothing stranger—entering his eyes.
He genuinely hadn’t expected Valtheron to say that at a ti like this. And before Ethan could fully untangle what it ant, Valtheron had already pulled out a white crystal and pushed it straight into Ethan’s hand.
The mont Ethan felt it, his gaze changed completely.
It was an incredibly pure white crystal. Inside it, a thread-fine light drifted, faint and subtle—like sothing sealed within it was gently rising and falling with a breathing rhythm.
"This is my core energy source," Valtheron said. His tone stayed calm, but the weight behind it was terrifying. "A piece of my soul is inside. And it’s fragile."
As he spoke, his eyes locked straight onto Ethan’s.
"If you want to, you can crush it at any ti. If you do, my body will be severely damaged—maybe I’ll die on the spot."
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