CHAPTER 10: OMINOUS FORCES

A predatory smile curled across Wrict's lips, dark and gleaming with pride.

"Yes, you noticed," he said smoothly, his voice echoing with cosmic power. "I've taken on my Nova form. Your resilience is commendable, Syril. You've matched blows strong enough to warp the very fabric of space itself. But this… this is where I elevate the battle."

He raised a glowing fist. "I suggest you do the same."

Syril's gaze sharpened, the pupils in his emerald eyes narrowing with focus. He inhaled deeply, and in that breath, a vibrant green light erupted around him. The cyclone it formed howled, tearing through the stillness of the air. In seconds, his figure reshaped—his body morphing into a towering humanoid dragon. His skin hardened into glimmering emerald scales, his wings unfurled wide, and fury burned behind his gleaming eyes.

With a deafening roar that rattled the barrier walls, Syril locked eyes with Wrict, a savage grin breaking across his scaled face.

"Shall we continue?"

Without waiting, Wrict lunged forward. His fist shot like a comet, but Syril raised a clawed hand and caught it with ease. With a growl, he launched Wrict across the town in a single punch. Wrict crashed into the ground, tearing through the remnants of a shattered landscape before regaining his footing.

"You getting amped," Wrict said, brushing off debris, "is exactly what I wished for. Now let's enjoy the fight."

A blur of movement followed. The two combatants vanished into streaks of color and light, then reappeared in a flurry of hand-to-hand combat. Wrict dodged a brutal axe kick—Syril's leg crashing into the ground with a shockwave that obliterated what remained of the town. Dust and stone surged upward, but Syril opened his maw and released a condensed fireball, its heat so intense it vaporized the debris instantly.

With nothing left but the two of them, the real fight began.

Wrict fired a barrage of glowing fists—his Nova Pact blasts—each one trailing arcs of white-hot energy. Syril twisted through the air, dodging the onslaught. Some blasts landed, but his armored scales absorbed the force, his body only grunting under the pressure. With a powerful beat of his wings, he redirected the wind itself, hurling some of the Nova blasts back at Wrict.

Wrict blasted them apart mid-air, though a few slipped through and exploded against his frame. Roaring, he soared into the sky like a missile, fire propelling from his feet, and drove his shoulder like a spear into Syril's torso. The two clashed mid-air, locked in combat.

Claws met fists. Wings sliced through fire. Blasts of fire met with Wrict's nova energy, shockwaves erupting and shaking the very barrier holding their battlefield. For minutes, their long-range assaults echoed through the enclosed space like thunder—both warriors unrelenting, neither gaining ground.

From opposite ends of the barrier, they both prepared a final attack.

Syril exhaled and stepped forward. "This is your final move, Wrict. Your Nova Pact blasts? Only ten times more powerful than the energy of the sun. Impressive, but nowhere near what I'm about to unleash."

Wrict chuckled. "You've miscalculated my intentions. I'm not planning on using another supernova."

A spiral of cosmic energy formed around him, bending time and space with every rotation.

"I'm going to use a black hole."

Syril's eyes narrowed, briefly caught off guard. But only for a moment. He steadied himself and opened his jaws. Deep within his throat, a fiery orb ignited—burning red and orange like a newborn star. With a thunderous whoosh, he expelled it, the energy ripping through the air, vaporizing everything in its wake.

Wrict responded by condensing the swirling space around him into a singularity. A black hole—no larger than a football—formed in his palm, darker than oblivion itself. The two forces met mid-air with a roar that cracked time, tearing their barrier apart as the shockwave flung both warriors across the scorched battlefield.

Minutes passed. Slowly, both rose from the rubble.

Syril gasped, clutching his ribs. "Damn it… I was sure I had this in the bag. My blast was a thousand times stronger than the sun… he couldn't have possibly matched that."

Wrict panted, a grin curling despite the blood on his lip. "You're not the only one disappointed. That was my most powerful attack ever. Seems we're evenly matched, Syril. For now, anyway. But this next technique won't require me to exert anything."

He raised a hand, forming a new barrier around them.

"This is where I draw the line. I'll kill you—and you won't be able to lay a finger on me. This technique is called…Eternis Divide". 

Then, another barrier formed around them in a twenty meter radius. 

Syril collapsed back into his feline form, panting but determined. He leapt toward Wrict—but landed with a frustrated growl. The space between them hadn't changed.

"I've seen this spot before… Why can't I reach him?"

He charged again. And again, the distance remained. Wrict stood just feet away—but unreachable.

"This is your doing?" Syril demanded. "The barrier?"

Wrict's grin widened. "Yes indeed. This technique creates endless distance between me and anyone else inside this barrier. You can run forever—but you'll never reach me."

Snarling, Syril slashed with his claws and there was projectile that followed. The attack, supposedly to sail toward Wrict… but, it was still at the distance it was released from and faded to nothing.

"Coward! Come to me."

Wrict obliged. He charged with a confident smile.

Syril prepared to slice Wrict's head off—but his claws passed straight through the demon's neck. Wrict's fist, however, connected with Syril's face, sending him skidding across the ground.

Dazed, Syril stood, eyes scanning the barrier. "Why… why am I still inside? I should've hit the edge by now."

"You're wondering how you're still in the barrier?" Wrict chuckled. "Simple. There's endless distance between you and me. But also between you and the barrier's edge. In other words… you're trapped."

Syril's expression darkened.

"And as for your attacks? They pass through me because I no longer exist in this dimension," Wrict explained. "I'm untouchable—like a ghost to a human. I can hurt you, but you can't hurt me."

"Prove it," Syril challenged. "Come at me again. I dare you."

With delight, Wrict rushed forward. Syril countered with a slash—but his claws phased through Wrict once more, and Wrict's punch slammed into his jaw.

Syril roared in frustration.

Wrict smirked. "You were hoping to hit me just as I struck, weren't you? Clever, but flawed. Even your roar attack wouldn't have worked. Sound, force, it all passes through me. You can't touch me. You're as good as dead."

Syril's body was fatigued, his thoughts racing.

"Yes," he murmured. "I hate to admit it… but I'm in serious trouble."

Still, he raised one final claw, putting everything he had into one last desperate slash.

Wrict watched, unfazed. "Futile," he muttered.

But the slash hit.

A deep, bleeding gash tore across Wrict's body.

His eyes widened in shock. "What?! How did that… how did you touch me?!"

Syril stood tall, his voice calm and steady.

"I couldn't—until now. I used another transformation: Chamelea. 

Wrict stumbled, blood dripping.

I used it to seamlessly merge with my feline form, ensuring my strategy remained concealed.

Then I used an attack similar to my feline slash and then sent it flying at you. You see, the Chamelea has the ability to adapt and blend with any phenomena. With that, the attack I sent to you reached your seemingly physical body because it adapted and blended with space itself within the barrier. So even if your technique creates endless space or distance, my slash merges with space itself, hence being within your reach but in this case, your seemingly physical body. So how did I hit you then? That's because my attack was aimed at your zail. 

Although you're in a different dimension, your form is still anchored here through your zail. That's why I can still see you and you can also attack me. Furthermore it's the main reason your essence exists in this dimension, "seemingly". So by aiming at your zail, it landed my hit.

Wrict's knees gave out, collapsing.

"You made a miscalculation, Wrict," Syril said solemnly. "The one who's dying… is you."

Wrict smiled weakly, blood on his teeth. "Well… you've won. You've given me great pleasure, Syril. Battling you… was an honor."

Syril looked at him, eyes heavy with sadness. "I only won because you underestimated me. You were the strongest demon I've ever faced, Wrict."

The last thing Wrict saw was Syril's face, blurry and distant, before the darkness closed in. His body, fading away. 

And then he was gone.