Chapter 10 (The Fall of the Abyss King)
The bell fell silent, but its echoing chime still vibrated in the air.
The Abyss King moved forward, his steps accompanied by the crackling of stone as ancient armor shed its crumbling remnants. His fractured glaive dragged along the ground, leaving behind a trail of dark fire, consuming even the air itself.
Zein tightened his grip on the sword he had picked up.
— This is about to get fun, — he smirked, never taking his eyes off his opponent.
Nait remained silent. His gaze was locked onto every movement of the King.
— You haven't forgotten, have you? You can't teleport.
— Yeah? So what? — Zein grinned. — Let's just keep things fair.
The King raised his glaive and stood still.
For a moment, the space around him seemed to contract, and in the next second, he brought his weapon crashing down.
The air shattered.
A massive wave of destruction burst forth from the impact, slicing through the arena with a deafening whistle, sending fragments of stone and bone flying.
Nait instantly stepped back, slipping into the shadow of a nearby sword.
Nait reappeared on the other side of the arena, his eyes flashing.
— Time to hit back.
The shadows quivered, preparing to strike.
Nait said nothing, his gaze tracking the King's every move.
— You do remember, right? You can't teleport.
— Yeah, and? — Zein smirked. — Let's keep it fair, then.
The King lifted his glaive, pausing for a moment.
The space around him compressed, and in the next instant, he slammed his weapon down.
The air tore apart.
A colossal wave of destruction erupted from the impact, splitting the arena with a deafening shriek, flinging shards of stone and bone into the air.
Nait vanished.
He stepped directly into the shadow of a flying fragment, his form dissolving into the darkness.
Zein, however, stood his ground.
When the shockwave reached him, he merely raised his hand.
And in that instant, the entire force of the blow was redirected into a nearby monolith.
The obelisk shattered into dust, unable to withstand the sheer power.
Zein brushed the debris off his palm.
— Damn. Now that's a real hit.
The shadows shuddered.
Nait reappeared on the far side of the arena, his eyes gleaming.
— Time to return the favor.
In his hands, two shadowy blades ignited, their edges flickering like liquid darkness.
He lunged forward.
Zein wasn't far behind. His sword felt strangely heavy, but he could tell—there was something more to this weapon than just steel.
The King didn't even try to dodge.
Nait swung his blades, aiming for the neck, but—
The weapons passed right through him, as if he were an illusion.
No impact. No wound. The darkness simply dissipated, leaving no trace on his armor.
Zein immediately slashed from the side, his sword carving through the air with deadly speed.
But when the blade connected—
The King didn't even flinch.
The metal slid off him like it had struck empty space, dealing no damage whatsoever.
— You've got to be kidding me, — Zein exhaled, leaping back.
But Nait didn't retreat.
He kept attacking, his blades weaving a relentless storm of strikes, the shadows writhing around him, but each slash, each lightning-fast cut left no mark on the King.
However…
Each time a blade passed through him, something changed.
Just a little.
Barely noticeable.
The King began to move differently.
As if, with every strike, he was growing heavier, as if reality itself was forcing him to obey its laws.
Zein noticed.
— It's working. Keep going!
He rushed forward, driving his sword with everything he had, putting all his power into a single devastating blow.
This time, when the blade struck the King's armor—
There was a sound.
Faint. Almost imperceptible.
But it was the sound of impact.
The King staggered back.
Only by a step.
But it was progress.
— He's not invincible, — Nait said hoarsely.
Zein exhaled, gripping his sword even tighter.
— Then we keep pushing.
They charged in again, unaware that this was only the beginning.
The King did not defend himself, but his body changed.
Every strike they landed made him… heavier?
As if with each blow, they were pulling something out of him—something that made him "untouchable."
And then, he struck back.
His glaive shot upward, and in the next instant, the space around them cracked like glass.
Black flames erupted, scattering shards of bone and rusted swords across the arena.
Nait slipped into the shadow of a flying fragment, vanishing into the darkness.
Zein, however, did not dodge.
He snapped his left hand forward, caught the shockwave in his palm…
And redirected it.
The fiery blast obliterated a massive monument, but Zein remained standing.
He exhaled, tilting his head slightly.
— Now he's pissed.
The King froze.
His flaming eye sockets locked onto Zein.
In that moment, the pressure shifted.
The light began to fade.
The ground began to crack.
Waves of black fire rose around them.
The second phase had begun.
The bell tolled.
But it was not just a sound.
It was a wave of the end.
The earth shattered.
The arena vanished.
Everything within a kilometer's radius was erased into nothingness.
Stone, metal, bones, dust—nothing remained. Only a vast crater, filled with a shuddering darkness that seemed alive.
The sky… died.
Someone had ripped it away like a rotting canvas, leaving behind fractures in the very fabric of reality. They spread, crawling across the heavens like cracks in broken glass, through which the Abyss seeped in.
Everyone felt it.
Somewhere beyond the trial grounds…
Drake, the examiner, felt the wave first.
His breath caught.
He did not see the explosion itself, but his body already knew what had happened.
His hand involuntarily clenched into a fist, his gaze jerked upward.
And he saw the sky.
No.
What had once been the sky.
It was riddled with fractures. Their edges shuddered, twisted, as if the world itself was trying to mend its wound—but couldn't. From those fractures, darkness bled through. Alive. Endless. Crushing against the mind.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
The others nearby—examiners, observers, warriors—felt it moments later.
Another, a silent swordsman, simply took a slow step back.
— What… is that? — someone whispered.
— Something went wrong, — Drake said quietly.
This power… it wasn't supposed to be here.
It wasn't part of the trial.
It was something far worse.
A chill ran down his spine.
Something in his chest tightened—a primal feeling, like fear, but worse—the feeling that they were already too late.
— We need the Order of Keepers.
Silence.
And then:
— Call them. Now.
At the trial site…
The other participants stood frozen in horror.
Some did not move, just stared, as if their minds refused to comprehend what had happened.
Some tried to speak, but the words were swallowed by the suffocating silence.
They didn't know what had happened, but instinctively, they understood one thing:
This should not have happened.
At the King's Arena…
The moment the King broke his chains and the wave of annihilation consumed everything, Nait vanished into the shadows.
He had escaped at the last possible second.
But Zein…
Zein saw it.
That wave.
That cataclysm.
That rupture between life and death.
And he realized:
Without teleportation, he was dead.
He had never faced anything like this before.
Not even him.
His body reacted instinctively, vanishing into space, and in the next moment, he was already in the sky.
From there, he saw everything.
How the wave of darkness erased the arena.
How the very ground evaporated, turning to nothing.
How the sky shattered.
And how the King truly emerged.
He teleported back.
Nait stepped out of the shadows.
They looked at each other.
And laughed.
Softly.
Hollowly.
Almost on the verge of hysteria.
— We… almost just died, — Zein exhaled, slowly straightening.
Nait wiped blood from his lips.
— Yeah.
They were terrified.
Truly.
But they were still standing.
And in their eyes, fire still burned.
The fight wasn't over.
The King took a step forward.
Though 'step' was too simple a word.
His form blurred, like a shadow in water, and the air quivered, as if struck by a bell.
And in the next second, he disappeared.
Nait saw it.
A black void.
The exact same kind he himself had created before.
He barely had time to process it, because the King reappeared right in front of him, glaive already swinging.
Nait barely managed to dive into the shadows, slipping out just as the glaive tore through space, leaving behind a gaping rift in time.
One second.
The rift hung in the air.
Two.
He struck again in the same spot, even though the King was no longer there.
— What the… — Nait leaped back sharply, struggling to understand how they were supposed to fight an enemy whose attacks could repeat even after he had already moved on.
Zein didn't waste time.
His body vanished, and he reappeared in midair, above the King, attempting to strike from an unexpected angle.
But the King already knew.
He didn't even look up.
He simply raised his hand.
And in the air, another rift ignited.
Zein felt the pull, as if he were suddenly being dragged into a void, and barely managed to teleport back to the ground.
He smirked.
— So now it's gravity too? Fantastic.
The King did not respond.
He suddenly halted, his dark flames trembling.
And in the next second, he was gone.
A black hole.
Nait saw it too clearly.
That's… my power.
But he wields it like it's second nature.
The King flashed back into existence, appearing behind Zein.
But Zein simply disappeared into space.
Reappearing off to the side.
They were dodging.
They couldn't attack.
Because how do you fight something that moves like space itself?
But they weren't done yet.
And they knew it.
Zein wasn't just going to watch.
He vanished, teleporting behind the King, and struck with full force.
His blade whistled through the air, accelerating to inhuman speed.
Impact.
But… nothing.
Just like before.
The sword passed through the King's armor as if it didn't exist.
— Again…? — Zein exhaled, immediately springing backward.
But the King was already moving.
His glaive slammed into the ground.
And immediately, ghostly echoes of his movements erupted from the cracks.
Dark silhouettes of the King, blurred and semi-transparent, repeated his strikes with a fraction-of-a-second delay.
Zein dodged the first attack, but the shadow copy swung again—right at the spot where he had just landed.
He barely managed to teleport away.
— You've gotta be kidding me?! — he yelled, flashing higher into the air.
But the King wasn't looking at him anymore.
His gaze was locked onto Nait.
He froze, and around him, the darkness began to twist.
A vortex, swallowing everything.
Nait felt it immediately—his shadows began writhing, as if something was pulling them away.
— He's stealing the shadows…
The King slowly lifted his head.
And in the next moment, the space around them began to tremble.
The King did not stop.
His body quivered, and with every movement, the air shattered.
Nait dashed aside, slipping away from another strike, but his shadows did not move the way they should have.
The King was taking them.
He could feel it.
But there was no time to think about that.
Zein noticed something strange.
His sword…
It was glowing.
A faint golden aura rippled along the blade, as if something ancient was awakening.
Zein felt it.
Not a mind.
Not emotions.
But power.
Something in this sword was responding to him.
And yet… his attacks still couldn't cut through the King's armor.
— Why aren't you cutting him…? — he muttered, gripping the hilt tighter.
But the answer was silence.
Nait wasn't about to stand still.
He threw his arms wide, and dozens of shadow blades erupted from his back.
Before, he could summon only two.
But now…
Now he could summon hundreds.
And he unleashed them all.
A storm of black blades roared toward the King, but…
They did no damage.
As before.
The blades passed through the armor, scattering into dust.
But the King noticed.
He stopped.
Turned his head.
For a second, he seemed to analyze them.
And then, he reached forward.
Nait's shadows began to fade.
The King was absorbing them.
Dark flames dripped from his armor, siphoning the very essence of darkness from the surroundings, but…
Zein wasn't looking at him anymore.
He was looking at his sword.
The light…
It was getting brighter.
Golden radiance grew stronger, coursing along the blade in waves of living energy.
And in that moment, Zein felt it.
Warmth.
Not from the metal, but from deep within the sword itself.
Something was awakening.
And he didn't wait.
He vanished.
A blink-teleport, then a sharp acceleration, moving faster than human reaction could track.
The blade flashed through the air, and before the King could register the motion, his right arm flew off.
Severed clean.
The flames at the wound did not regenerate.
It did not grow back.
The King froze.
Nait's eyes widened.
— We can kill him… — he whispered.
But before they could land another strike…
The King lunged forward.
His movements turned wild, unrestrained, merciless.
Every strike—a detonation.
Every step—destruction.
He wasn't just fighting.
He was trying to erase them.
Zein barely teleported back before the glaive shattered the ground where he stood.
Nait dodged sideways, but the King was already vanishing into a black hole, reappearing beside him.
Now the fight was personal.
The King raged.
His blows tore through space, the air fractured under pressure, and every movement left devastation in its wake.
But Zein wasn't focused on the chaos around him.
He felt the sword.
This blade… it wasn't just a weapon.
It was a key.
As he held it, something deep inside resonated, as if the sword had been waiting for this moment.
Now, it was in the hands of the one who could end this battle.
Zein snapped his gaze to Nait.
— Listen carefully.
Nait already knew what he was going to say.
— I need ten seconds.
— You're kidding me?!
— Ten seconds, Nait!
Nait exhaled sharply.
Ten seconds against this monster.
But he wasn't backing down.
— Then don't screw this up.
He spread his arms wide, and the world plunged into darkness.
Every shadow around them surged to life.
They twisted, tangled, weaving into thick, unbreakable chains that began binding the King.
The King jerked forward, but his feet were already trapped.
One second.
The King arched his back, dark flames bursting from his armor.
He slammed his glaive into the ground, unleashing a shockwave, but Nait held him in place.
Two seconds.
The Funeral Bell.
Everything vanished.
The world collapsed into emptiness.
The sky was gone.
The ground was gone.
Only darkness remained.
But Zein did not flinch.
He could no longer see the King.
Couldn't even see his own hands.
But he felt the sword.
Felt it as a part of himself.
And the moment sight failed him, his body moved on instinct.
Three seconds.
Zein gripped the sword tighter.
Golden light flared with ferocious intensity, illuminating the void around him.
He vanished.
And reappeared exactly where he needed to be.
Right in front of the King.
He raised the sword in a slow, majestic arc.
The blade in his hands began to shine, radiating beams of blinding light.
First, a ten-meter blade of pure light erupted from the sword, blazing like the flare of a newborn star.
It tore through the darkness surrounding them, shredding it apart, forcing it back.
A second later, the blade expanded to a hundred meters, transforming into a towering pillar of flame-like radiance.
Another second, and it stretched to a full kilometer, spearing through the fractured sky, tearing apart the Abyss that had swallowed them.
Zein, like a god of war, pushed his body to the absolute limit, pouring all his strength, all his fury, all his will into one final strike.
And brought the sword down upon the King, who was still trapped by Nait's shadows—caught in the grip of fate itself.
The impact shook reality, as if two worlds had collided.
The Abyss King, unable to escape, took the full force of the blow.
It was as if the weight of the heavens themselves had fallen upon him.
His armor, once invincible, shattered with a deafening crack, splintering under the overwhelming force—like fragile glass crushed by a divine hammer.
The dark flames that had cloaked his form extinguished instantly, as if ripped away from the depths of the void.
The King did not move.
His armor fractured, the cracks widening, his body beginning to crumble into ash.
Remnants of dark fire flickered within the ruptures, struggling to hold on, but soon they faded completely.
The ashes trembled, as if resisting the inevitable.
But then…
They reached for the shadows.
Like a river returning to its course.
Like a fragment of something far greater, merely retreating.
Nait felt it.
His shadows quivered, as if they were greeting a forgotten master.
And in the next moment, the King of the Abyss was gone.
But Zein was no longer looking at him.
He was looking at the sword.
First…
The golden glow dimmed, like the sun sinking beyond the horizon.
Then…
The metal began to crack, but not shatter—it was dissolving, like morning mist under the first rays of dawn.
Zein tightened his fingers.
He could feel the hilt becoming weightless.
The warmth of the sword fading from his palm.
The sword was rising into the air.
Golden shards broke away from it, drifting upward like glowing leaves carried by the wind.
They swirled around him, dissolving into light.
— Uh… — Zein hesitantly reached out.
The sword turned transparent, like sunlight through water.
And vanished.
Simply dissolved, leaving behind only a few shimmering golden particles, which soon faded into the air.
Zein stood there, empty-handed.
He blinked.
Then again.
— Hey… — he turned his hands over, as if checking whether the sword had somehow slipped into another dimension.
— I liked that sword!
Nait snorted, smirking.
— Yeah, I doubt it was ever meant for your collection.
Zein turned to him.
— No, seriously. I really liked it.
Nait shrugged.
— Then don't lose what you still have.
They looked at each other.
And without a word, they reached out.
A loud clap.
They high-fived.
They had survived.
Nait took a deep breath.
Zein was still staring at his hand.
— Damn, I still want it back.
They laughed.