Chapter 21;Confrontation

...…

"Hmm… someone's here," Vastoth muttered in a calm tone, his voice carrying an air of inevitability. He had always known this place would be discovered; it was only a matter of time. Rising from his seated position, he strolled to the edge of the mountain peak. His sharp gaze swept downward, catching sight of Vyrinox struggling at the mountain's base.

Vyrinox was in bad shape, his movements hindered by the loss of one hand. Just recalling how he had lost it made his blood boil. He had been cautious, yet it hadn't mattered—the small shard of fragmented space he had touched sliced through his hand with such precision that he still dreaded the memory.

What worsened the situation for him was the slow pace of his regeneration, a rare and frustrating occurrence for someone of his stature. Wounds inflicted by natural law phenomena were vastly different from those caused by opponents with mastery over the laws. Space law, in particular, was far beyond Vyrinox's expertise, making the injury all the more severe. The slow regeneration diminished his overall performance, an unacceptable setback for one as prideful as him.

Vyrinox specialized in deception laws, a domain vastly different from the rigid, cutting precision of space laws. Deception laws governed illusions, manipulation of perception, and subtle distortions of reality. They allowed him to twist truth into lies and lies into truth, warping both physical reality and the minds of others. His strength lay in deception and control, but here, against the natural space phenomena, he was painfully out of his element.

As Vastoth observed Vyrinox's struggles, a faint smirk touched his lips. He turned back toward the monolith and muttered to himself, "Let's see how far he gets."

"This cursed place… Why is it always space?" Vyrinox muttered, glaring at the shards floating in the air. Each shard reflected broken images of his injured body, the stump of his missing arm mocking him.

Knowing he couldn't move forward in his current state, Vyrinox used one of his innate abilities, "Echoed Presence." With a quiet whisper and a simple motion of his hand, an illusionary copy of himself appeared beside him. The clone looked just like him, even sharing his missing arm and battle scars. It stood still for a moment before Vyrinox gave the command: "Go."

The clone nodded and stepped forward toward the dangerous path ahead. Vyrinox, meanwhile, retreated to a safe spot and sat down to heal. His body trembled as his energy worked to regenerate his arm. The process was slow since wounds caused by space shards were not easy to fix. He clenched his teeth, frustration and determination swirling within him.

The clone carefully moved forward, taking its time to study every danger in its path. Space shards floated like broken mirrors, sharp and deadly, ready to cut through anything. Space storms spun chaotically, creating flashes of light and pulling the air into strange ripples. Every obstacle seemed alive, as if guarding the peak of the mountain.

The clone paused often, watching the movement of the space shards and storms. At one point, it crouched low, waiting for a storm to calm. When the storm briefly weakened, it quickly slipped through, narrowly avoiding being caught in a vortex. Step by step, it made its way up, always moving cautiously.

Far below, Vyrinox sat cross-legged, his face calm but focused. His arm, which had been sliced off, was slowly regenerating. Muscles grew back in small layers, but the process was slow and painful. Space wounds were harder to heal, and this one drained his strength.

He kept his connection to the clone active, using it to track its progress. "Almost there," he muttered, feeling both relief and frustration. Losing his arm had been humiliating, and he was determined to make it to the top himself once he fully recovered.

At the peak of the mountain, Vastoth stood silently, his hand hovering just inches from the monolith. The air around him was strangely quiet, as though even space itself had stilled in the presence of the monolith. His eyes locked on the glowing surface, and his breathing slowed as he focused entirely on the moment.

"The final step," he whispered to himself, his voice steady but filled with tension. He could feel the power of the monolith testing him, pushing against his mastery of space laws.

The clone finally arrived near the top of the mountain after what felt like an endless journey. It stopped just before the monolith's still zone, where the chaotic space phenomena suddenly vanished. The silence was unnerving, making every step feel heavier. Vyrinox, observing through the clone, grinned slightly. "It's within reach," he thought.

At the peak, Vastoth noticed the clone's arrival. Turning his head slightly, he smirked. "So, you made it this far," he said under his breath, his tone calm but with a hint of amusement.

The clone hesitated as it stepped into the still zone. For a moment, its body flickered, showing its illusionary nature. Vyrinox, now fully healed, stood up. His arm was whole again, and his sharp eyes gleamed with determination. "It's time to claim what's mine," he said, his voice low and steady.

Vastoth stood up, his eyes fixed on the figure moving toward the monolith. Mistaking it for Vyrinox, he spoke with an arrogant tone, "Vyrinox, this place is my domain, and you are trespassing."

The clone paused, its gaze sharp. "And so what? Only the strong deserve this blessed land. Let's see if you can back up your claims."

Vastoth ignored the challenge at first, but the words "blessed land" caught his attention. His brow furrowed, and he asked with genuine confusion, "Blessed land? What is that?"

The clone tilted its head, its expression laced with disbelief. "You don't know?" it said, looking at Vastoth like he had been living under a rock. "It doesn't matter. You'll figure it out after I take this land for myself."

Vastoth frowned, scanning his surroundings. Something felt off. As he extended his senses, his gaze shifted downward to the base of the mountain. There, in clear view, stood the real Vyrinox, fully healed and very much not the figure in front of him.

Realization dawned on Vastoth. "A clone…" he muttered under his breath. He glanced back at the one before him, his mind racing. "But how does he plan to reach the top again? Will he go through all the space phenomena a second time?" The thought made him smirk in amusement.

Before he could ponder further, Vyrinox's voice rang out from the clone. "Shift."

In an instant, a wave of distorted energy rippled through the air. Vastoth's surroundings seemed to twist momentarily, and when the distortion settled, the positions of the clone and the real Vyrinox had swapped.

The clone now stood at the base of the mountain, as it slowly healed its wounds. The real Vyrinox, meanwhile, now faced Vastoth directly.

Vyrinox barely acknowledged Vastoth as he began walking toward the monolith, his movements deliberate and filled with purpose. His disinterest in Vastoth was clear, as though the mountain and the monolith were the only things that mattered.

Vastoth crossed his arms, stepping aside to let him pass. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he thought, "Let's see how you embarrass yourself this time."

Vyrinox observed Vastoth's reaction closely, a gnawing sense of unease creeping into his mind. Something wasn't right. Vastoth's calm demeanor and the faint ridicule in his eyes unsettled him.

Still, when Vyrinox's gaze returned to the monolith, his caution dissolved, replaced by greed. The allure of the monolith, so close yet unattainable, consumed his reasoning. Without hesitation, he began moving toward it, each step filled with determination.

Minutes passed, yet he hadn't made any progress. The realization struck him like a blow: no matter how much he moved forward, he remained in the same spot, as though the space itself defied his efforts.

He paused, frustration rising within him. Glancing to his left, he saw Vastoth standing at ease, his eyes filled with thinly veiled ridicule and disdain. The sight sent a jolt of something unfamiliar through Vyrinox,shame. For the first time in his existence, he felt humiliation creeping into his heart.

Vastoth let out a faint chuckle, shaking his head. To him, Vyrinox wasn't even worth considering a threat. "He doesn't even understand the stretching of space," Vastoth muttered under his breath.

Ignoring Vyrinox, Vastoth turned his attention back to the monolith. He moved forward effortlessly, each step precise and measured. The air around him seemed to bend subtly, as if acknowledging his mastery over the space laws.

Standing in front of the monolith, Vastoth exhaled slowly. A glimmer of determination flashed in his golden eyes. "Just a little more," he thought. The comprehension of the monolith was nearly complete. Soon, he would claim ownership of this blessed land ,a prize worthy of his ambition.

Vyrinox, left behind and seething with frustration, clenched his fists. His pride wouldn't allow him to give up, but the gap between him and Vastoth had never felt so insurmountable. For now, all he could do was watch. Vastoth seeing the expression on Vyrinox face completely let his guard down.