Chaos Heir

Lord Mighty sensed it before seeing it. A tremor ran through the arena, both ethereal and physical. The air and ground under the floor shook, eventually affecting that partially maimed metal surface.

An earthquake encompassing the earth and sky took over the area, opening cracks in the floor and air. Pieces of metal bent and shattered everywhere, gradually levitating as their fabric split even further, creating black whisps that hovered above the surface.

The event had no specific pattern or arrangement. The destruction unfolded in random spots, some far distant from each other. Still, the process was identical every time, and its source was obvious.

More and more chunks of the floor broke, crumbling into rising clouds of metal dust. Trails of that dark gas littered it, almost resembling injuries that bled into the air.

The destruction expanded until it reached the four pillars at the arena's corners, and their sturdy surfaces gave in to that influence. Their metal shattered, creating more trails of metal dust. The damage was so extensive that their bright runes started to go dark, leaving only Zedekiel's unnatural red sky as a light source.

Lord Mighty didn't know the specifics behind that event but only wasted a few seconds inspecting it. The battle was over in his mind, but that damage wasn't tolerable. Test or not, Lord Mighty had to vanquish that threat to Zedekiel's buildings.

The Royal Guard jumped, leaping past the crumbling spiked wave t reach Khan's position. He planned to end him in one blow, in a single decisive stomp. However, power abandoned his attack when he was about to land. Deepening the arena's destruction was pointless when his opponent wasn't there.

Surprisingly, Khan had disappeared. He had felt too weak to breathe just one moment ago, but his body had still moved, albeit not fast enough to make Lord Mighty lose him. The Royal Guard heavily landed on the metal floor before lifting his head and looking at the tiny figure high in the sky.

Khan sensed Lord Mighty's gaze but ignored it. He didn't care about anything in his current state. His bright eyes reflected the world, highlighting the symphony of destruction that had captured it. Of course, Khan knew he had caused that, but even that didn't matter.

Desperation was a funny thing. Summoning its purest essence had put many details into perspective, often making Khan realize how worthless they were.

That feeling was far from new to Khan. He had hovered near its edge many times, often after traumatic and bloody events. Someone had always managed to pull him back to society before he properly dived into it, but that couldn't happen now. No one could save him from that dark perspective.

'If the world doesn't work like I want,' Khan thought, seemingly possessed, 'It has no reason to exist.'

The arena, Lord Mighty, and Zedekiel as a whole seemed to be hindrances in Khan's journey, so he would break them. That deep, empty, but powerful feeling filled his body, and the world echoed it, conveying his wishes.

'If the universe won't help me,' Khan pondered, 'It might as well turn into dust.'

Khan's right arm hung lifelessly from his shoulder. His ears rang, and his chest hurt. He couldn't breathe properly, but none of that mattered. Khan didn't feel any pain, either. He just followed his strange mindset, and his left hand eventually rose.

Long, bright lines appeared before Khan while his fingers followed instinctive urges. They also chose the perfect amount of mana every time, eventually creating an intricate but familiar tall rune.

Khan partially came back to his senses at that point. He didn't know why, but he had drawn his improved version of the [Blood Vortex], albeit with a few minor modifications.

'Why did I make this?' Khan wondered.

Theoretically, the new [Blood Vortex] was similar to Khan's offensive rune. Both symbols absorbed the world's mana, but the former didn't have ways of storing it, and Khan had never attempted to modify it in that direction.

Khan began to think before realizing his mistake. He felt truly stupid at times. He had better ways to look for answers. Someone dear to him had taught him how long ago.

Truth be told, Khan wasn't completely to blame. He had learned too much, and most of those theories conflicted with each other. Khan couldn't abandon thoughts, either. After all, he had a brain and planned to rely on it, but that went against some of his arts. ɽÂƝŎ₿ΕS

"[Feel me]," Khan asked in the Nele language. "[Teach me how]."

The world was already echoing Khan's feelings, and the opposite happened now. The two were connected, and deep knowledge flowed into Khan's brain, blending with his expertise to shape it into something he could perform. Suddenly, Khan knew what he had to do and became possessed once again.

Khan added new lines to the tall rune's design, transforming its purpose and increasing its power. He didn't have a clear goal in mind. His mind wasn't clear at all. However, his very being wanted something, and the symbol eventually reflected it.

Once Khan finished drawing, he pushed on the intricate array of glowing lines, activating the rune. A small red-purple star formed in the sky, generating a suction force that reached every corner of the area.

Even the arena's floor succumbed to the suction force's power. The metal surface kept breaking, and dark trails of dust surged into the sky, converging toward the purple-red star. A black and invisible vortex formed before Khan, absorbing energy at an unfathomable pace.

The artificial star eventually became unable to retain its spherical form. The spell expanded, continuing to absorb energy. Its light dimmed, but its fabric remained dense, stretching toward the sky and arena until it achieved a final shape.

A deep, clicking growl echoed through the sky, sending shivers into its structure while Khan gazed at a familiar shape. The spell was immense, bigger than anything he had ever created. Even his array of spears paled in comparison, but he recognized it. Khan had recreated the wild cloud, injecting new life into that old ability.

"[Yes]," Khan said, switching back to the Niqols language to reply to the clicking growl. " [Let's end it all, once and for all]."

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