The icy expanse crackled beneath their feet as Noctis faced off with Iron, his gaze sharp and determined. Frost watched from his throne of glimmering ice, a bemused smile on his lips. He knew well enough to respect Noctis’s abilities, but he couldn’t resist the chance to test them.
Iron, towering and silent, raised his arm, materializing a massive club of solid ice in his hand. Each crystalline detail glistened in the cold light, edges sharpened to deadly points. Across from him, Noctis unsheathed his dagger, its dark blade gleaming with menace.“This is it,” Noctis thought, steeling himself. He knew the terms of the duel—no powers, no enhanced strength, just raw, primal combat. He couldn’t unleash his aura, nor could he rely on his energy manipulation. It was simply strength against strength, blade against club.But even under those rules, Iron’s icy composition gave him a near-unbreakable durability. His strength was practically elemental, fused into hisNoctis’s grin hadn’t fully formed before a blizzard of icy shards surged violently toward his face. He raised his arm instinctively, but the sharp-edged frost bit into his skin, leaving trails of crimson along his knuckles. Wincing, he gripped his dagger, maneuvering it to deflect the relentless barrage. Each clash of metal against ice sent reverberations through his arm, his muscles screaming with each impact."His range… it’s insane," Noctis thought, gritting his teeth as he sidestepped the icy shards, trying to regain his focus. He blinked through the haze of frost, struggling to steady his breathing."Things would be so much easier if I could just use my powers." But even as frustration flared, he squashed it down. The thrill of a challenge stirred something fierce inside him, and he welcomed it.Before he could even recover fully, Brass closed in on him, each massive step cracking the ice beneath his feet. With towering limbs transforming like liquid steel into weapons of destruc
The air crackled with tension as Noctis and Brass circled each other, their eyes locked in fierce determination. Without warning, both warriors charged, each propelled by unrelenting strength. The sound of impact reverberated through the icy ground as their fists collided in a brutal punch to each other’s midsections. Noctis felt the sickening pressure as Brass’s fist dug into his gut, the force behind it almost knocking the breath from his lungs. Pain bloomed like fire across his abdomen, and for a moment, he fought the urge to retch. Brass, too, staggered from the blow, his icy form splintering where Noctis’s fist had made contact. Another jagged crack ran across his midsection, shards of ice falling to the ground. Yet he merely narrowed his glowing eyes, ignoring the fractures. Both warriors stepped back, a flicker of mutual respect passing between them even as they sized each other up, breathing heavily. As they steadied themselves, a transformation began to take hold in both f
Jeremy’s fists clenched as he muttered, “I’m ready.” The words left his lips reluctantly, his eyes reflecting uncertainty. This wasn’t what he’d wanted—yet here he stood, compelled forward with no other choice.A silence followed, stretching long enough that he began to wonder if he’d even been heard. Then, out of the ethereal stillness, Mundan materialized, his expression unreadable as he approached. Without a word, he placed a firm hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, and the world around them shifted.In an instant, they were transported. The landscape was like nothing Jeremy had seen before, an expanse of pure white that stretched endlessly in every direction. The air felt charged, as if it held secrets woven into the very fabric of reality. They were alone in the vast, colorless void.Mundan’s voice broke the silence, his tone solemn. “You have chosen the right path, son. Welcome to the Celestial Realm. From this moment forward, you are one of us.”Jer
Six months had passed since Jeremy’s departure to the Celestial Realm, and Earth stood on the verge of chaos. Without his leadership, the Dark Horses Guild and those he’d left behind faced a relentless barrage of threats. The Netherworld’s forces had unleashed a wave of destruction, the freaks and abominations flooding the mortal realm, bringing terror and bloodshed to the innocent. In the shadows, Burke—predicting the moves against him—remained elusive, shrouded in secrecy and defending himself with elite fighters and vicious beasts.James Detroit bore the weight of protecting both Jeremy’s guild and, more importantly, his family. He had shouldered these burdens, gathering allies where he could, including a recent alliance with the Dark Horses Guild. As Jeremy’s absence became more widely known, the attacks grew more desperate, coordinated with vicious precision. Soren, a prominent force from the Netherworld, had become their primary threat, and his incursions le
The city of Texheram was no more than a smoldering wasteland. What once stood as a bustling metropolis was now a graveyard of shattered buildings and burning rubble. The streets, once filled with life, were eerily silent except for the crackling of flames and the occasional cries for help. The sky was a murky gray, thick with ash, and the faint glow of fires illuminated the chaos below. It was in this hellscape that Soren stood, embodying the destruction he had wrought.Perched on the edge of a crumbling skyscraper, Soren exuded a terrifying aura of dominance. His crimson attire, immaculate despite the carnage, caught the flickering light of the fires, and his tousled hair danced with the breeze. In his grasp was a woman, her neck clutched tightly in his hand. She gasped for air, her struggles feeble against the overwhelming strength of her captor.“Isn’t the weather splendid today?” Soren said with a grin that stretched unnaturally wide. His voice was calm, almost cheerful, yet laced
Soren descended gracefully, his crimson aura swirling around him like a living entity. His polished red gloves caught the dim light, and he dusted them off as if brushing away imaginary dirt. His gaze fixed on Elijah, a sneer tugging at his lips.“Insolent being,” he scoffed, his voice carrying an air of disdain. “How many times must I remind the world? I’ve stood at the peak of S rank for over a century. The strongest gods are just within my grasp. To think someone like you could challenge me… it’s laughable.”Elijah stood firm, his calm demeanor masking the storm within. “I agree with you,” he said, his tone steady. “Your power is extraordinary. But, you see, I’m not exactly ordinary myself.”Soren raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.“I’ve been stuck at the peak of A rank for over two decades,” Elijah continued. “And just as the A rank is a bridge to the heroic ranks, S rank serves as the gateway to divinity. You stand at the edge of godhood, but even the gods have their l
James stirred in the rubble, the sharp sting of pain dragging him back to consciousness. Blood trickled down his face, pooling beneath him, and his entire body felt as though it had been shattered and pieced back together. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle against the suffocating weight of debris and exhaustion.“Damn it,” he thought bitterly, his mind swimming in a haze of fragmented memories."Since I was young, I knew I was different. Special." James’s thoughts drifted to a distant past, a time when the world had been simpler. "I was born into wealth, into privilege. My family wanted for nothing, and from the moment I could walk, it was clear I wasn’t like the others."By six, James wasn’t just strong; he was superhuman. His punches could break walls, and his reflexes were unmatched. But with that strength came isolation."I terrified the other kids," he thought. "They couldn’t understand me. My silence, my ferocious gaze, the way I always got what I wanted—it
The battlefield was chaos incarnate, the ground trembling under the immense force of their clash. Elijah stood amidst the destruction, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His once-pristine white suit was now in tatters, his body marred by countless bruises and cuts. Yet, his eyes burned with an unyielding resolve.Across from him stood Soren, his figure exuding an aura of superiority. His crimson gloves gleamed ominously, his sly grin a cruel mockery of the man struggling before him.“You sure are strong for a mortal stuck in the A-rank,” Soren remarked casually, his voice dripping with condescension as he adjusted the base of his gloves.Elijah didn’t respond immediately, his mind racing as he worked to suppress the pain from his injuries. The earlier kick had done significant damage, and he knew he couldn’t afford to falter now.“Twenty minutes,” he thought, focusing his energy inward to heal his ravaged organs. “That’s all I need to buy him. Just twenty minutes.”Soren cocked hi
The air around them crackled with an oppressive, unnatural tension as Typhon stood motionless, towering over the battlefield like a living storm. His eyes, glowing like molten fire, were locked onto McCoy and his guild, his cold expression betraying no hint of mercy.A grotesque, unsettling noise filled the air. Typhon made an odd, guttural sound, and slowly, methodically, he stuck his massive hand down his throat. The movement was unnatural, almost alien, as he dug deeper, pulling something from within him. The sound of slick, greasy slime slithering over the ground followed, enough to make anyone with a semblance of sensitivity to retch.“Nu-ah...” Typhon muttered in an unsettling tone, his voice resonating deeply as his monstrous hand gripped the hilt of a weapon.From his throat emerged a sword—an absurdly long and grotesque blade, dripping with thick, viscous fluid. It was no ordinary weapon. The blade itself seemed to pulse, radiating a malevolent energy that made the air feel t
The flames didn’t stop with Jim. The fiery blast tore through the air, its heat warping the atmosphere. Buildings miles away were scorched clean, their facades riddled with perfectly circular holes as though a god’s spear had pierced them. Those not incinerated crumbled from the sheer force of the blast, collapsing in a cacophony of destruction.Even McCoy, standing far from the epicenter, felt the intense heat lick at his skin. His magically enhanced senses allowed him to track the blast’s trajectory, and what he saw sent chills down his spine.The devastation extended far beyond the city, leaving a trail of ruin in its wake. Streets buckled, trees withered to ash, and the ground itself cracked and smoldered. All of this happened in less than five seconds, yet the aftermath stretched for miles.A cold sweat ran down McCoy’s back as the reality of Typhon’s power sunk in. His hands trembled as he took in the scope of the destruction, but he forced himself to stay composed.“This isn’t
McCoy stood frozen, his mind racing through every piece of mythology he had ever read. His analytical nature warred with his instincts, both screaming at him to act but in entirely different ways.Before him stood Typhon—the youngest son of Gaia, a monster of unparalleled power. A being feared even by gods, Typhon’s mere presence warped the air, bending it to his will. His form loomed over the battlefield, a tempest of chaotic energy swirling around him."The youngest son of Gaia," McCoy said, forcing his voice to remain steady. "Surely you do not want to destroy a part of yourself."Typhon’s glowing eyes narrowed, his thunderous voice reverberating like an earthquake. "Huh? It seems this young mortal here is a fan of mine.""You could say that," McCoy replied, wiping the sweat rolling down his temple.He wasn’t lying. Since childhood, McCoy had immersed himself in the stories of gods and monsters, legends and myths that spanned cultures and centuries. Much to his parents’ dismay, he
Elijah stood firm, his voice steady despite his labored breathing. “Fighting isn’t just about brute strength,” he declared, his words cutting through the chaos. “Sometimes, wisdom outmatches power.”The words had barely left Elijah’s mouth when a deafening blast tore through the battlefield.Soren’s body was flung backward, forced deeper into the earth as concentric circles of light—white, gold, and red—engulfed him. Each explosion was more devastating than the last, the ground shattering beneath him in a cascading storm of debris.The battlefield transformed into a massive crater, the destruction extending for miles. Smoke and fire erupted from the epicenter, painting the sky in ominous hues.From a distance, Elijah and James watched the chaos unfold. They panted heavily, their bodies trembling from exhaustion. Blood dripped from their wounds, pooling beneath them as they knelt on the cracked earth.“Did we get him?” James asked, his voice hoarse and uncertain.Elijah didn’t respond
Two figures stood amidst the wreckage of a city torn apart by their power. One radiated a blinding, ethereal light, while the other exuded a suffocating darkness that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Their combined presence created a storm of energy that rippled outward, shaking the city to its very core and filling the air with a foreboding sense of impending doom.“Yo,” James sneered, his voice carrying a sinister edge. The shadowy aura around him writhed and twisted like a living entity, its tendrils snaking across the ground as if searching for prey.Soren stood across from him, grinning wickedly. His red aura flared with malevolent energy, a living flame that seemed to consume the air itself. A glowing crimson rod formed in his hand, jagged and pulsating with chaotic energy, its shape constantly shifting like molten lava.“This is going to be fun,” Soren declared, his voice dripping with sadistic glee.The moment the words left his mouth, the ground beneath them shattered.
The battlefield was chaos incarnate, the ground trembling under the immense force of their clash. Elijah stood amidst the destruction, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. His once-pristine white suit was now in tatters, his body marred by countless bruises and cuts. Yet, his eyes burned with an unyielding resolve.Across from him stood Soren, his figure exuding an aura of superiority. His crimson gloves gleamed ominously, his sly grin a cruel mockery of the man struggling before him.“You sure are strong for a mortal stuck in the A-rank,” Soren remarked casually, his voice dripping with condescension as he adjusted the base of his gloves.Elijah didn’t respond immediately, his mind racing as he worked to suppress the pain from his injuries. The earlier kick had done significant damage, and he knew he couldn’t afford to falter now.“Twenty minutes,” he thought, focusing his energy inward to heal his ravaged organs. “That’s all I need to buy him. Just twenty minutes.”Soren cocked hi
James stirred in the rubble, the sharp sting of pain dragging him back to consciousness. Blood trickled down his face, pooling beneath him, and his entire body felt as though it had been shattered and pieced back together. His breaths came in shallow gasps, each one a struggle against the suffocating weight of debris and exhaustion.“Damn it,” he thought bitterly, his mind swimming in a haze of fragmented memories."Since I was young, I knew I was different. Special." James’s thoughts drifted to a distant past, a time when the world had been simpler. "I was born into wealth, into privilege. My family wanted for nothing, and from the moment I could walk, it was clear I wasn’t like the others."By six, James wasn’t just strong; he was superhuman. His punches could break walls, and his reflexes were unmatched. But with that strength came isolation."I terrified the other kids," he thought. "They couldn’t understand me. My silence, my ferocious gaze, the way I always got what I wanted—it
Soren descended gracefully, his crimson aura swirling around him like a living entity. His polished red gloves caught the dim light, and he dusted them off as if brushing away imaginary dirt. His gaze fixed on Elijah, a sneer tugging at his lips.“Insolent being,” he scoffed, his voice carrying an air of disdain. “How many times must I remind the world? I’ve stood at the peak of S rank for over a century. The strongest gods are just within my grasp. To think someone like you could challenge me… it’s laughable.”Elijah stood firm, his calm demeanor masking the storm within. “I agree with you,” he said, his tone steady. “Your power is extraordinary. But, you see, I’m not exactly ordinary myself.”Soren raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself.“I’ve been stuck at the peak of A rank for over two decades,” Elijah continued. “And just as the A rank is a bridge to the heroic ranks, S rank serves as the gateway to divinity. You stand at the edge of godhood, but even the gods have their l
The city of Texheram was no more than a smoldering wasteland. What once stood as a bustling metropolis was now a graveyard of shattered buildings and burning rubble. The streets, once filled with life, were eerily silent except for the crackling of flames and the occasional cries for help. The sky was a murky gray, thick with ash, and the faint glow of fires illuminated the chaos below. It was in this hellscape that Soren stood, embodying the destruction he had wrought.Perched on the edge of a crumbling skyscraper, Soren exuded a terrifying aura of dominance. His crimson attire, immaculate despite the carnage, caught the flickering light of the fires, and his tousled hair danced with the breeze. In his grasp was a woman, her neck clutched tightly in his hand. She gasped for air, her struggles feeble against the overwhelming strength of her captor.“Isn’t the weather splendid today?” Soren said with a grin that stretched unnaturally wide. His voice was calm, almost cheerful, yet laced