For a while, the staredown continued.

The man was frozen in his place, thousands of thoughts running through his head, yet none of them were useful in this scenario.

He had thought that he could just run away, but that wasn't possible anymore.

And he couldn't just wait for Kael to die on his own because he was sure that even if Kael were to die, he would bring him along.

'I-I don't want that...'

For the first time in his life since he had become so powerful, the scarred man, Vilonder Faeyard, felt fear so deep that it unsettled his very bones.

Worst yet, this fear he felt was because of a being he could've crushed with his mana alone a second ago.

That didn't just shake him physically but also mentally.

However, before Vilonder could continue with his thoughts, Kael moved.

Not with rage.

Not with sound.

He moved the way inevitability moved.

The man never even saw it coming.

One moment, he was frozen in Kael's gaze—

Next, his left arm tore free.

There was no wind. No flash. No strike.

Mana merely decided the arm no longer belonged to him.

The man screamed.

It was the first real scream Kael had heard from him.

"Pain..." His words echoed as if the whole world was resonating with them. "Is something that breaks you, but it also reminds you."

Kael watched, hollow-eyed, as blood sprayed into the air and the severed limb fell—then stopped mid-fall, suspended by Kael's mana.

Kael's claw lifted.

The arm rewound.

Flesh crawled backward. Bone stitched itself together. Nerves reconnected with sickening precision.

The man gasped as his arm reattached.

Before relief could form—

It was torn away again.

"That you are still nothing but a mortal pretending to be a god." Kael's words completed themselves.

And the man saw his other hand being torn apart as well.

A different angle. Slower. Crueler.

Again.

And again.

Kael wasn't just overpowering him.

He was out-controlling him.

Mana flowed through Kael with such density and clarity that it mocked everything the man believed about power.

But it didn't end there because the next second, something unbelievable happened.

The man's head detached.

"You." Kael's voice was heard again. "Are nothing."

What was more shocking was that the man could still see everything. He could see the blood flowing down his torn neck, and he could see his body dangling below.

But it was only for a second before his eyes blacked out.

'Ah, no,' he thought. 'I don't want to die like this.'

And just when his vision went out, a voice echoed through his head.

"You won't die. Not this easy."

The next second, he found his body in one piece again.

"Wha.. What's happening—"

Before he could even understand anything, he felt a new pressure.

"N-No!"

He felt his body twisting.

It was as if he were being compressed.

"NO! NO! NO—!"

His voice was cut short, as in the next instant, with an unimaginable pain, he realized that he had turned into a box of flesh.

'Ah...'

He couldn't even think anymore as his vision faded again.

But he was back again—his body is in the best shape.

His body trembled as his eyes turned to look at Kael's void-like eyes, and for the first time, he saw an emotion in them.

Those eyes seemed to be enjoying this.

"No... Please..." He begged, feeling that this was far from over, and the next second, as if telling him how right his thoughts were, he was killed.

Every time, it was a new way.

He didn't even know that he could die in such ways until it happened.

But no matter how many times he died, he was resurrected—if that was the right word for whatever was happening—to his peak body condition.

Healing, tearing, rewriting—Kael did it all casually, like a bored god dismantling a toy.

The man thrashed, trying to scream, to cast, to exist—

But Kael allowed none of it.

And as all of that was happening, above them, the sky broke.

Black clouds roared as thunder slammed downward, bolts smashing into the earth, cracking it open like glass.

The cloud mass expanded violently—one kilometer, two kilometers, then three kilometers—stretching outward as if the world itself were panicking.

The ground beneath them collapsed.

A huge scar spread outward, a yawning crevice that screamed of planetary fracture.

It felt as if it were left like that, then it would end up tearing the whole world apart.

Even as the seconds passed, the scar and the clouds kept expanding.

And still Kael stood.

But his body—

It was failing.

Cracks widened. Golden blood seeped constantly through his scales, evaporating into black mist.

His form trembled, unstable, collapsing and reforging with every breath.

Yet his eyes—

They were empty.

Emotionless.

Enjoying it.

[STOP—!]

[HOST CRITICAL—!]

[POWER OVERFLOW—!]

[IF CONTINUED: TOTAL SYSTEM FAILURE]

[PLEASE—]

Kael didn't see them.

Didn't hear them.

Until—

[EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN INITIATED]

[REASON: WORST-CASE SCENARIO IMMINENT]

[COUNTDOWN: 3 seconds.]

Kael's head tilted.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his gaze shifted—away from the man.

Two seconds remained.

"…She's not supposed to have this much authority," Kael said quietly, voice fractured and wrong.

"But now that she does. There would be consequences."

The notifications went silent.

Then one appeared.

[I won't let anything happen.]

Kael exhaled.

One second.

His eyes snapped back to the man.

"I won't kill you," Kael said calmly. "But I will make your life worse than hell."

Something entered the man's body.

Not mana.

Not poison.

A presence.

The man convulsed, screaming without sound as Kael finally withdrew his control—leaving him broken, unable to heal, and unable to scream properly.

Kael's eyes closed.

The thunder vanished.

The clouds unraveled.

The fractured earth sealed as if it had never been broken.

It was as if the reality reset itself.

The next second, Vilonder crashed to the ground in a pool of his own blood, staring blankly at the sky.

Not far away, Kael's massive body fell—

—And hit the earth like a dying god.

Dust and debris flew as he fell, but Vilonder didn't even look at him.

Because right now, all he could think of was running away.

He moved the instant his limbs obeyed him.

He didn't look back.

He didn't dare.

Every shred of pride, every fragment of dignity he had built over decades was crushed beneath a single instinct—

Run.

He staggered to his feet, blood-slick boots skidding against scorched earth, mana flaring desperately as he tried to tear space open, to flee anywhere—anywhere that wasn't here.

Then—

Something inside him twitched.

Vilonder froze.

His eyes widened.

"No… no, no, no, no—!"

Pain bloomed from within, not sharp, not blunt—wrong. It felt alive. Coiling. Crawling through his veins, his organs, his very soul.

Whatever Kael had put inside him woke up.

Vilonder screamed.

A raw, animal cry tore from his throat as he collapsed, clutching at his chest.

He could feel it—chewing through him from the inside, gnawing at his mana channels, scraping against his core like teeth against bone.

It wasn't fast.

It wasn't merciful.

Seconds stretched into eternities. Each heartbeat felt like it would be his last, yet it never was.

The thing inside him fed, then settled, leaving behind a hollow, burning emptiness.

Vilonder lay there gasping, eyes bloodshot, body shaking violently.

"…I—I can't die here," he whispered. "Not like this."

It was then that the mana in the sky shuddered.

Vilonder's head snapped up.

The air tore open with a sound like glass screaming.

A portal formed—vast, radiant, and carved with unfamiliar sigils that hummed with ancient authority. Vilonder's breath hitched.

'Another gate…?'

Not Astraea's. He knew that instantly. Astraea's portal was still in the sky, and he wasn't expecting anyone to come from there because he had ordered no one to.

So, he was sure that this one was someone else.

His mind barely processed the implications.

'Demihumans…' he thought desperately. 'It must be them.'

They weren't best friends, but he was sure that they wouldn't want to kill him.

So, although he would look like a joke, a supreme who was begging, he still crawled toward the portal, his voice breaking as he screamed, "HELP! PLEASE—HELP ME!"

His pride was shattered completely.

"I'll give you everything!" He shouted hoarsely. "Artifacts! Territory! Information—anything! Just—Just take me to the portal! Send me back to Astraea! Please!"

He laughed hysterically, tears streaming down his face. "I'm a Supreme! I'm valuable! I can—"

Then the figures stepped through.

Vilonder's words died in his throat.

Tall.

Too tall.

Graceful silhouettes draped in flowing robes that shimmered like moonlight on water. Pale skin that glowed faintly, as if kissed by stars. Eyes that burned with colors no human mana could replicate.

Pointed ears.

Elves.

They didn't arrive.

They descended.

The air bowed around them. Mana silenced itself, flattening into submission as an ancient presence flooded the battlefield. Where they stepped, reality grew quiet—as if afraid to breathe.

Vilonder felt his heart drop into his stomach.

'No. No no no no—' Vilonder shook his head repeatedly.

They were elves.

And for humans, they were worse than demons.

Demons bargained. Demons deceived. Demons wanted souls—but they gave something in return.

Elves?

Elves gave nothing.

In Astraea, every Supreme, every high noble, and every mage was taught the same truth from the moment they entered the city:

'If you ever meet an elf, do not negotiate. Do not beg. Do not offer anything.

Just pray they are weaker than you, or if they were stronger, then wish that they let you live.'

Because elves didn't hate humans quietly.

They hated them loudly.

Vilonder's legs gave out.

Normal people didn't know about elves, as they hadn't seen them for centuries, but people in Astraea knew more.

Especially the higher-ups like Vilonder.

They knew that the elves' hatred for humans stemmed from an event a long time ago and the fact that humans always tried to enslave the elves.

So, he, Vilonder, now knew that this was not salvation.

This was judgment.

And for the first time since Kael fell, Vilonder Faeyard wished—truly wished—that the dragon had killed him instead.

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