The Sword Without Name

The battlefield was no longer just a battlefield.

It had become a divine fracture, a scar in the very fabric of reality where laws bled and timelines twisted. The clash between Priyanshu and the Divine Executioners had reached the point where space, time, and destiny were little more than shattered concepts.

At the center stood Priyanshu—calm, nameless sword in hand.

The sword did not shine.It did not cry.It did not seek attention.

Yet every divine being who laid eyes on it felt an unexplainable terror. Not fear of death. But fear of being… unwritten.

Zayael, the Executioner of Names, who had erased countless immortals with a mere gesture, now found herself staring at a force she couldn't categorize.

"You have no name," she said, voice trembling—an anomaly for one crafted to judge.

"I am not nameless," Priyanshu replied, his voice low, heavy. "I am beyond names."

Then he swung.

A single slash.

Not fast.Not wide.Not flashy.

Yet the very concept of Zayael began to tear.

System Alert: Authority Breach Detected. Conceptual Combat Engaged.

Nameless Sword Effect Activated:"Target's Role is reduced to Pre-Existence. Damage is now irreversible."

Zayael screamed.

Not in sound—but in meaning.

Across the realms, thousands of ancient names flickered in and out of memory. Tombs became blank. Statues crumbled. Songs lost their lyrics. Her own powers betrayed her.

Because in that moment, her authority was stolen—not by Priyanshu's sword…

…but by his belief.

Meanwhile, Veritus—Blade of Absolute Law—charged again, enraged. His blade, an edict of reality, sought to cleave Priyanshu's soul.

But Qilin intercepted.

And for the first time, the trickster shed his smile.

He raised both arms and wove a golden tapestry of threads—intersecting karmas, divine principles, and mortal sins. In one motion, he rewrote the Law of Blades, declaring:

"All weapons pointed at my brother shall bend."

Veritus's blade snapped in midair.

He looked down—Qilin was already in front of him, threads of fate binding every limb.

Qilin whispered, "Sit this one out."

And dropped him from existence.

Now, only four Executioners remained—Rheia, Nullgrave, Vastrol, and Hexelon.

But Priyanshu wasn't waiting.

He took a step forward—and vanished.

When he reappeared, Nullgrave was already impaled.

He whispered, "You silence prophecy. But I am the prophecy never spoken."

[Nameless Sword – Form II: Origin of Silence]

Nullgrave's eyes turned gray, and then she collapsed into herself, erased not by force… but by irrelevance.

No future. No past. Just nothing.

Vastrol, enraged, summoned the Infinite Spearstorm—an army of spears falling from dimensions unknown. Each one carried the judgment of a dying world.

But Ashen Crow laughed.

He held up a scroll.

"Let's write a new ending, shall we?"

And with a single line of blasphemy, every spear turned around—piercing Vastrol instead.

System Update: Ashen Crow's Inscription of Forbidden Paradox has overridden enemy technique.

Three Executioners left.

Hexelon and Rheia stood back-to-back, their divine auras burning.

Hexelon roared. "We are the divine order! The world burns without us!"

Priyanshu walked toward them.

"I know."

Then he lifted his sword again.

"No one said I'd let it live peacefully."

Behind him, Yue Ling knelt on one knee.

"Dark Saint, ready."

Elira loaded her crossbow. "Targets?"

Priyanshu grinned.

"Everyone who still thinks this world runs on justice."