THE GENESIS Clash!

Aldric's eyes narrowed, and his expression hardened, his mind focused and resolute. He spread his legs and joined his middle and ring fingers of both hands, his voice a powerful declaration that reverberated through the hall:

"Dimensions: Domain of the Victor!"

A black veil descended over the castle, shrouding it in darkness. 

Dimensions are considered the epitome of 'Power' or 'Naritti,' representing the most potent and refined form of energy manipulation available to a being. Mastery of dimensions demands immense reserves of iko and Naritti, making it a formidable skill to wield properly. In ancient times, many early humans uncovered the secrets of dimensions and integrated their use into daily life and combat. As a result, it became a common practice among the world's warriors and was prominently featured during the Game—a legendary period marked by epic battles.

However, the number of humans who truly mastered the use of dimensions was exceedingly rare. Among the countless warriors, only twelve individuals possessed the exceptional skill required to harness this power to its fullest potential. These elite few were known as the Apex Warriors, revered and feared for their unparalleled abilities.

When a dimension is activated, it creates a barrier around a designated area, enveloping it in a mysterious black veil. The space within the veil transforms into an entirely different realm, uniquely related to the dimension's name and controlled by its wielder. Within this domain, the user exerts absolute control over every object and element, enjoying unparalleled liberty to manipulate their surroundings. The user's will becomes law, and they can bend reality to their desires.

For those unfortunate enough to be trapped within a dimension without the skill to counter it, the outcome is grim. They are subjected to the user's complete control and ultimately perish within the domain. Their bodies disintegrate into ashes, a testament to the dimension's overwhelming power.

However, there exists a crucial technique known as Sunpo, the Anti-Dimension art. Those who have mastered Sunpo can nullify the effects of an opened dimension, temporarily suspending the wielder's access to their powers. This technique provides a glimmer of hope for those trapped within a dimension, offering a means of escape. In some instances, the Sunpo technique has been known to strip the dimension wielder of their domain entirely, adding an element of risk to its use.

In Aldric's dimension, the atmosphere was nothing short of awe-inspiring and ominous. Golden swords hung suspended from the black ceiling, their blades shimmering with an ethereal light. They appeared like sentinels, ready to unleash their deadly precision at a moment's notice. The ceiling itself seemed to stretch infinitely, the blackness adding a sense of vastness and depth to the domain.

Behind Aldric's imposing throne, a massive skull was engraved in the black veil, its hollow eye sockets seemingly staring into the very souls of those who dared to enter. The skull's intricate details were accentuated by the faint, ghostly glow that emanated from within, giving it a lifelike and menacing presence. It served as a constant reminder of the power and authority Aldric wielded within his domain.

Aldric Jonathan sat upon his throne, a symbol of absolute control and dominion. The throne was adorned with intricate carvings and precious gemstones that reflected the ambient light, creating an aura of regality and intimidation. As he raised his right palm, the golden swords quivered with anticipation, their chains rattling as if eager to be unleashed.

The domain itself exuded an air of foreboding and control, a testament to Aldric's mastery of dimensions. Every element within the domain was a reflection of his will, a manifestation of his power. The very atmosphere seemed charged with energy, crackling with the potential for devastating attacks and intricate strategies.

As Aldric prepared to command the swords, the air grew heavy with tension. The golden blades, sharp and gleaming, awaited his orders, ready to execute his every command with unwavering precision. The stage was set for a devastating and calculated assault, the likes of which few could withstand.

The golden swords quivered with anticipation, their keen edges gleaming ominously in the dim light. "Forward!" Aldric commanded, his voice a resonant blend of authority and control that echoed through the vast expanse of his dimension.

With fluid precision, the swords broke free from their chains, moving as if they were extensions of Aldric's own will. They formed the Wedge formation, a time-honoured battle strategy from the Ancient Empire of Romania. The swords arranged themselves into a sharp triangular formation, the sides creating an impenetrable barrier around Aldric while the front charged relentlessly toward Ruhabayo. Two swords from the rear executed a swift flanking manoeuvre, aiming to trap Ruhabayo in a deadly pincer movement.

Zoe, the linchpin of the formation, struggled against her chains, her every movement a testament to her determination. At last, with a powerful surge, she soared into the sky, her presence summoning dark thunderclouds that crackled with raw energy. The air grew heavy, suffused with the electrifying promise of impending doom.

"Commence!" Aldric roared, his voice thunderous, shaking the very foundations of the castle.

Shockwaves rippled through the air, their sheer force preventing Ruhabayo from mounting any effective defence. The flanking swords struck first, their blades embedding deep into Ruhabayo's sides with a sickening crunch. A devastating blast followed, as one sword drove itself deep into his internal organs. Blood sprayed from the wounds, staining the ground a dark crimson.

The stage was set for the final act. All the remaining swords converged on Ruhabayo, their razor-sharp blades slicing through his flesh with unerring precision. The ground became a blood-soaked testament to the ferocity of the battle. Ruhabayo coughed violently, blood dripping from his lips. Aldric, certain of his victory, was suddenly stunned as he witnessed the colour of Ruhabayo's blood shifting from a vivid red to a shimmering golden hue.

What could this transformation mean? Why was Aldric so thrilled to see this? The mystery hung palpably in the air, a question that demanded immediate answers. The battle was far from over, and the true nature of Ruhabayo's power was on the verge of being revealed, hinting at deeper and darker secrets yet to unfold.

Aldric stepped closer to Ruhabayo's lifeless body, crouching to touch the pooling blood. The moment his fingers brushed against it, a chilling realization struck him—he now understood why Ruhabayo's blood was shifting, but the truth had come too late.

Before Aldric's very eyes, the fallen warrior—on the brink of death just moments ago—began to rise. Yet something was wrong. Ruhabayo's movements were unnatural, his posture eerily rigid, as if his body no longer belonged to him. It was as though an unseen entity had seized control, puppeteering his broken form.

A nervous smile flickered across Aldric's lips as he muttered, "So, you are no ordinary human."

But Ruhabayo did not respond. His gaze remained cold, unseeing—yet piercing straight into Aldric's soul. Slowly, he spread his legs apart, planting himself firmly onto the ground. Then, without emotion, he turned his face towards Aldric, his hollow stare more terrifying than any battle cry.

And then, he spoke.

"Sunpo: Death Before Birth."

At that moment, a cataclysmic surge of aura erupted from Ruhabayo's very being, flooding the domain like an all-consuming storm. The sheer pressure stretched the boundaries of reality to their breaking point, forcing the domain to expand violently—until it could no longer contain the overwhelming force. With a thunderous crack, the dimensions themselves shattered.

Panic surged through Aldric as he attempted to counter the Sunpo technique. He activated Realm Expansion, a technique meant to reshape a concentrated space into a vast, controlled realm. But the effort was in vain—the aura particles continued to swell, filling the newly expanded realm like an unstoppable tide.

Aldric's eyes widened in horror. His plan was crumbling before him, unravelling into chaos. This battle had spiralled far beyond his control. Desperation clawed at his mind as he made a fateful decision—one that would put the entire Raven Islands at risk.

Lifting his sword, he took a deep breath and whispered the incantation that would seal their fate.

"Ashes rise, heavens weep…"

Ruhabayo's voice rang through the battlefield as he declared his next attack.

"Sword of Justice: Fourth Form—Judgment!"

With relentless determination, he surged forward, aiming to disrupt Aldric's chant before the catastrophic incantation could be completed. But Aldric had foreseen this. Without hesitation, he summoned Morcant into his domain, locking eyes with him and giving a single, commanding order.

Morcant bowed.

"The Velvet Worm's Defense."

At his command, a swarm of glowing, violet-hued velvet worms materialized from the surrounding aura, slithering through the air like phantoms of the void. They coiled around Aldric, forming an impenetrable barrier—a living shield that would repel any external threat. Satisfied that his master was now protected, Morcant dashed toward Ruhabayo, unsheathing his sword in a single fluid motion.

With a chilling calmness, he announced:

"Sword of Loyalty: First Form—Oathbreaker's End."

Morcant's blade gleamed with an otherworldly light as he swung in a wide, deadly arc. Ruhabayo reacted instantly, raising his own sword to parry the strike. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, yet despite his defense, Ruhabayo was wounded—more of his blood spilled onto the ground, staining the battlefield.

Morcant's eyes gleamed as he asked, "Have you ever broken a promise in your life?"

Ruhabayo let out a low chuckle, his voice unwavering. "I have never made a promise," he replied. "But I promise you this—today, I will carve a legacy into the pages of history."

Morcant smiled darkly, raising his sword once more.

What followed was not merely a duel for dominance—it was a conversation through steel. Every clash of their swords carried the weight of their convictions, every strike an unspoken declaration. Sparks erupted as their blades met, lighting up the battlefield in fleeting bursts of brilliance.

Even in the depths of the earth—within the Prison of Humanity's Hell, buried thousands of meters below—the echoes of their battle could be heard.

Meanwhile, Aldric stood unwavering within his protective barrier, his chant nearing its devastating climax:

"…the world shall bow,the doom runs deep…"

Above the castle, the sky blackened, an unnatural darkness swallowing the light. Clouds churned and twisted as if the heavens themselves recoiled from the power being invoked.

"Fire and ruin,death untamed."

The chant's effects had begun manifesting even before it was completed. The sky above the castle was no longer just dark—it had fractured, forming a massive circular void. From within this abyss, rays of light transcended downwards, converging upon the castle's highest spire—a terrifying omen of what was to come.

On the battlefield, Morcant and Ruhabayo fought with such ferocity that their battle shattered the castle's ceiling. In one swift motion, both warriors leaped onto the rooftop, their blades clashing in midair.

Morcant glanced upward at the sky, watching as the heavens twisted into something unnatural. A knowing smile crossed his lips as he whispered:

"Is this the will of the victor, my lord…?The head of the Rulers—Sir Aldric J. Malebranché Noctis."

Ruhabayo gazed at the darkened sky, his expression turning solemn. With deliberate force, he drove his sword into the rooftop, his voice echoing through the battlefield:

"Begin the Judgment."

In an instant, he lunged forward, piercing Morcant's chest plate, his blade sinking deep into flesh.

Above them, a colossal pillar of golden light descended upon Morcant, its divine radiance illuminating the battlefield. This light did not merely burn—it measured his sins, determining whether he was worthy of execution. Empowered by the judgment itself, Ruhabayo tightened his grip on his sword, ready to deliver the final blow.

Morcant, a warrior of thirty-six years, had known battle, had known struggle—but never had he endured a pain such as this.

His once-proud figure—his long, blonde hair reminiscent of a French noble's elegance—was now bloodied, broken. His body screamed for mercy, for release, for freedom from this world. Yet his expression betrayed none of it.

Despite his body's desperate plea for death, his spirit refused to yield.

Though the lightning's wrath had seared through his flesh, though his left arm had been torn away, Morcant still forced himself to rise.

His grip tightened around his blood-drenched sword.

His vision blurred. His hearing faded. His life flashed before his eyes—a cruel montage of everything he had lived for. He had every reason to surrender.

Yet, he chose not to.

Morcant gritted his teeth, his body battered and broken, yet his resolve unyielding. He spoke through laboured breaths:

"Pain is the proof that a warrior has done his duty. My suffering is evidence that I fought until my very last breath. But I cannot let pain consume my will—so I will fight."

With renewed determination, Morcant raised his blade high and declared:

"Sword of Loyalty: Final Form—The Ultimate Sacrifice!"

This final form of the Sword of Loyalty was a technique of absolute devotion—one that demanded the user's entire life force in exchange for victory. As Morcant executed the technique, his blade conjured the Pin of Loyalty, a spectral force that pierced Ruhabayo's heart.

The effects were immediate and devastating.

Ruhabayo's Twelve Dragon Defense, an impenetrable shield against all but the mightiest attacks, failed him. The Pin of Loyalty worked its deadly magic, slowing him, distorting his thoughts, and clouding his mind in a storm of confusion.

Blood cascaded down Ruhabayo's chest as he staggered, his breath ragged. With a defiant snarl, he swung his sword, dispersing the thick smog left in the wake of Morcant's final attack.

Morcant, despite his failing body, managed a smile. He knew his fate was sealed, yet he embraced it without regret.

With his remaining strength, he shouted his last words:

"I have always been devoted to the leader of the Rulers—Sir Aldric J. Malebranché Noctis!"

Ruhabayo's gaze hardened. Without hesitation, he drove his sword straight through Morcant's body, impaling him with brutal force.

Morcant did not resist.

He had already surrendered—to his cause, to his fate, to his god.

Blood splattered across the castle walls, pooling beneath his fallen form. The once-proud floors of the Raven Islands were now drowned in a sea of crimson.

Aldric, standing amidst the carnage, felt a tear slip down his cheek. His most loyal warrior—his La Main—was gone.

Yet, deep down, he knew there was no time to mourn.

Morcant was dead.

[To be continued in Chapter 29]