The battlefield became a blur of motion.
Cadero recovered first, spinning his saber in a whirl of silver before launching himself forward, his snake-like movements weaving through the storm of black daggers Yohan had left hovering. Arlos came from the opposite side, his war hammer wreathed in golden light, each swing heavy enough to split the earth.
The crowd across a thousand worlds watched through the livestream, the universal chat scrolling so fast it was unreadable.
Yohan vanished in a streak of shadow, reappearing just behind Arlos. He pivoted low, his heel smashing into the giant's knee with a sickening crack, just as he was going for the kill Cadero's blade flashed, nicking Yohan's cheek, a single bead of blood hissing as it hit the ground.
The two angels pressed him hard now. Cadero's slashes were rapid, taunting, his voice dripping venom as he spat.
"You've gotten sloppy, Aurelius."
Arlos' strikes were blunt and crushing, hammering shockwaves through the field.
"Mother! We should help him"
Gladius, creating a giant claymore, was prepared to erupt from the castle until Solaria grabbed her and held her back.
"Watch him love, he won't fail."
With that she collapsed the creation of her weapon and sat down, watching through the window.
Yohan weaved between them, ducking a saber slash, teleporting mid-step to avoid a hammer strike, his counterattacks just as deadly, an uppercut that launched Cadero into the air, a roundhouse kick that spun Arlos full circle before sending him crashing through a cluster of spiked rocks, almost as if they were waiting on him.
The feed caught every detail: sparks showering from clashing steel, the ground fracturing under their combined strength, the arcs of black and gold energy cutting across the battlefield like lightning.
Cadero flipped midair, landing on his feet, his grin still plastered on his face. Arlos rose from the rubble, fury burning in his eyes.
Yohan stood between them again, dark aura flaring, daggers orbiting him like a crown of shadow.
"Come on," he growled, voice low but carrying. "Show me the power you betrayed us for."
The two men finally decided to stop throwing insults and found a rhythm, one weaving in and out like a viper, the other hammering down like a meteor. They came from both sides, their combined attacks creating a wall of gold and steel that even Yohan had to respect.
The universal broadcast trembled as the feed locked onto the three blurs of movement, explosions flaring every second. Viewers could only catch glimpses, a flash of Cadero's saber, the crack of Arlos' hammer, the violet-black streak that was Yohan countering in the same heartbeat.
Cadero darted in with a feint, drawing Yohan's guard high. Arlos came low, swinging his hammer for Yohan's ribs but instead of blocking, Yohan let the blow connect, skidding back across the shattered ground. The angels smirked, thinking they had him on the defensive.
Yohan's eyes bled red. His aura swelled. The air warped around him.
"Alright," he said quietly, his voice cutting even through the chaos. "Let's end the warm up."
Yohan darted towards the duo, who matched his speed as they rushed at him. At the last moment, he leaned back, delivering a swift kick to Cadero's chin that broke it immediately, sending him into a wall. With energy surging through him, Yohan channeled power into his fist, dragging his knuckles along the ground and launching a forceful uppercut into Arlos' stomach. The impact unleashed a massive burst of energy, lifting him off the ground.
Before the force could sweep him away, Yohan grinned and seized Arlos by the face, yanking him back just as he drove his left fist into the right side of Arlos' temple. Without hesitation, he used the back of his fist to strike the other side of Arlos' face. Grabbing him by the neck with his claws, Yohan hurled him, the massive man skipping across the battlefield like a stone on water.
In one fluid motion, Yohan sprinted alongside him and delivered a double knee drop into Arlos' chest as he soared through the air, the impact resonating with a thunderous crack.
The earth buckled, the Black Zone's barrier groaned under the pressure as the land folded, shards of black light spiraling outward into the void as the barrier started to splinter. A wave of dark energy erupted from Yohan in every direction, the shockwave ripping through the battlefield and out into open space through the cracks.
Dead worlds in the system long-forgotten, lifeless husks cracked apart as if an invisible hand had crushed them. Their debris glittered against the distant stars, drifting in slow motion across the void.
Cadero and Arlos were hurled away like leaves in a hurricane, their armor scorched, weapons sparking. The Order of Ash stared wide-eyed, their helmets reflecting the voidfire burning in Yohan's wake.
The livestream chat was nothing but chaos billions of viewers screaming in disbelief.
Yohan straightened, shadows swirling around him like a living storm as the two men tried to recover.
"Your turn," he said, his gaze fixed on the angels as they lay in the rubble.
For a single, breathless second, all present felt it, an invisible weight pressing down on every living thing, gods and mortals alike. It wasn't just force; it was presence.
The pressure settled across shoulders, into bones, deep into the core of the soul. Knees buckled. Breath caught in throats. Even the air seemed to grow heavy, bending beneath the unseen hand of something far greater.
And then, just as suddenly, it was gone. The pressure vanished, leaving behind a deafening stillness, as if the universe itself had inhaled and forgotten to exhale. But that moment… that second… would be remembered in every realm as the instant they felt the true weight of Yohan's power.
On distant worlds, priests dropped their incense burners mid-prayer, clutching at their chests in shock. The great bell of Vurath a relic that had not rung in a thousand years tolled of its own accord.
Monks of the Floating Step monastery fell into deep, trembling bows, muttering his name like a mantra. On the sapphire oceans of Khyra, the pearl-skinned singers began weaving an unplanned harmony, their voices trembling between awe and fear, creating a song that would travel the waves for centuries.
In Altherion, a thousand bards leaned over balcony rails, their quills scraping madly at parchment. They wrote by instinct alone, some hands shaking so violently that ink bled across the page. The Black King had returned as the Ashen Lord. The Moment the Stars Bent
And from far higher still… gods stirred.
Some, wreathed in light so bright that it burned the air, emerged from their silent planes. Others, draped in endless night, folded their wings and moved without sound. Great beings shapes of thought and flame gathered at the edges of the Black Zone, looking down upon the battlefield like patrons at a theatre.
Some came in reverence.
Some came in hunger.
Others simply came to see if the rumors were true.
Gods from the outer realms watched as power rivaling their own had made itself known.
They watched Yohan stand alone before the scattered bodies of Cadero and Arlos, his army behind him like a tide waiting for the moon's command. The voidfire of his earlier strike still clung to his shoulders, licking at the edges of his black cloak.
From the castle walls, Solaria held their child close. The girl's eyes sparkled with unblinking wonder, hands clutching the railing as if she could hold her father's shadow in her palms.
"He's… beautiful," she whispered.
Her mother's lips trembled into the faintest smile.
"And terrible."
Ventris's legions still numbering in the hundreds of thousands despite earlier losses surged forward, fueled by desperation and command. But the fight had shifted. It was no longer battle; it was slaughter.
Yohan moved like the world itself was his weapon. One sweep of his arm birthed black spears of obsidian that fell like rain, skewering ranks by the thousands. He blurred into motion, each step detonating in a shockwave that ripped trenches into the earth.
He kicked off the ground, vanishing in a blur of violet-black lightning that ripped through the enemy ranks in a spiraling path of destruction. Soldiers combusted into ash as he passed, their armor melting from the heat of his energy.
On the cliffs, archers loosed an ocean of arrows all of which froze midair, reversed direction, and fell upon their own forces. Screams blended with the roar of collapsing beasts.
A giant warbeast lunged at him, its mouth big enough to swallow ten men whole. Yohan grabbed it by its tusk, spun it overhead like a flail, and smashed it into a column of troops, the shockwave toppling everything within a mile.
The Black Zone battlefield became a shifting mosaic of fire, stone, and blood.
Hours of war condensed into minutes. His army barely moved; they didn't need to. Every strike from Yohan claimed hundreds, sometimes thousands, until the ground itself turned glassy under the heat of his aura.
When the dust cleared, only the angels remained.
Cadero rose first, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his once-perfect sneer nowhere to be seen. Arlos stood beside him, knuckles white around the haft of his warhammer.
"Aurelius," Cadero spat, voice laced with venom.
"Still think you're a king?"
"I don't wanna hear that from the guy who's losing." Yohan smirked.
He stepped forward, the weight of his shadow dragging across the shattered ground like a second body. The gods above leaned in.
The angels struck first. Arlos came in low, hammer trailing sparks as it carved a burning arc through the air. Cadero was already in motion above, descending like a falcon, blades aimed for Yohan's neck.
The King caught Arlos's hammer one-handed, stopping its momentum cold, and slammed it into the ground the resulting quake knocking Cadero off his trajectory. Yohan turned in a blur, his elbow catching Cadero in the face before his boots touched the ground.
Arlos recovered, roaring as he brought his weapon up for another strike, but Yohan was already behind him, palm pressed to his back. A pulse of black energy sent the angel flying forward like a comet, crashing into a nearby rock formation taking the entire cliff down with him.
Cadero lunged in, feinting left then slicing upward only for Yohan to duck under the blade, grip him by the throat, and lift him high enough for their eyes to meet.
"You were my brother once," Yohan said quietly. "And for that… I'll punish you accordingly."
The ground beneath them split as he hurled Cadero into the air and then Yohan was there, above him, a dagger in each hand. He threw one into his chest, the second blade flying through the left side of his neck like a hot knife through butter, then with a flick of his wrist called the blade back to his hand.
Cadero's eyes wide in awe as the blade flew through the right side of his neck with even more force than the original strike decapitating him, then In a single, fluid motion, Yohan crossed the blades through his chest, the shockwave of the strike sending rings of force rippling into the void.
Cadero's body hit the ground headless, lifeless, his wings already turning to ash.
Arlos roared in fury, charging through the debris with murder in his eyes. He swung the hammer in a massive overhand blow and Yohan caught it again, this time twisting it free from the angel's grip. The hammer shattered in his hands, fragments glowing white-hot.
The King spun once, twice, the broken haft becoming a spear of stone and steel in his grip and sent it deep into Arlos' chest. The angel staggered, looking down at the burning hole, then up at Yohan with disbelief.
"Impossible…"
Yohan stepped forward, shadows twisting around his arms as he held the broken haft, pulled it out and stabbed Arlos again and again and again.
"Don't be too sad. This was never your war to win."
He clapped his hands together. The air buckled. Arlos was swallowed whole by a vortex of black fire, his scream cutting short as his body was reduced to cinders in seconds.
The battlefield was silent. Only the crackle of cooling stone remained.
From the edges of the Black Zone, gods and mortals alike stared in reverence and dread. Songs were already being sung. Prophecies were already being rewritten. And in the distance, on her great starship, Ventris's eyes narrowed, a thin smirk on her lips.
Yohan stood alone in the ruins, the wind tugging at his cloak, his army still watching from behind the wall he had created. His wife's gaze met his, their child still clutching her hand.
The Black Winged King had returned. Reborn as the Lord of Ash. The galaxy now knew his name and his power.
The battlefield had gone still.
The air hung heavy in the aftermath of angelic bloodshed.
That was when the space above Yohan tore.
It wasn't a ripple, or a flash of light, it was an absence. A rift that devoured color, noise, and breath. Through it stepped Korva, her silhouette crowned in jagged shadows, her smile small but lethal.
No one had felt her approach. Not even him.
Her hand twitched and the attack came. A spear of condensed blood, so fast that even Yohan's instincts barely screamed in time. His body moved on reflex, energy flaring to shield his heart
but the impact never came.
A wet sound split the air.
Zervas stood before him, the red pulsing spear buried clean through his chest. The young man's breath shuddered, crimson dripping down his chin as his knees buckled.
"Vass!" Yohan caught him before he fell, his gauntlets slick with blood.
The man's eyes flickered, straining to focus on his friend.
"I… I'm sorry… for everything. F-for hurting you. For not fighting with you. My family, she took my family. I- I had no choice brother, I'm sorry."
Tears clouded his vision as he felt his strength fading as red veins crawled along his form
"I love you....broth"
His words broke into a cough, blood speckling Yohan's cheek. He tried to speak again, voice barely more than a rasp… but the last syllable died in his throat. His weight went slack.
Solaria looked on as Gladius cried in her arms calling her uncle's name.
The moment stretched.
Yohan's head bowed, horns casting long shadows across the broken earth. His shoulders trembled not in weakness, but in something far more dangerous.
The ground cracked beneath his bare feet.
Then it came.
A ripple of power erupted outward, and with it the true sight of his essence not mere shadow, but a swirling storm of deep violet threaded with streaks of burning red, cold blue, piercing white, and infinite black. It looked less like energy and more like a piece of the cosmos had torn free and taken shape around him, galaxies collapsing and stars igniting in slow, silent motion.
The Black Zone itself groaned, the fractured remnants of its once-impenetrable walls splintering further, seemingly gathering around Yohan like shards of glass. Castle towers collapsed. Mountains shook. Even the gods watching from afar leaned back instinctively, their immortal eyes narrowing.
Those close enough to stand within its reach could taste it, an ancient, crushing pressure that slammed into every soul alive.
Just like before, gods and mortals alike felt the true weight of Yohan's existence pressing on their shoulders, as though they'd been forced to bear the gravity of a dying star.
The soldiers nearest to him his own soldiers, staggered back, their lungs screaming for air. The primal urge to flee turned into necessity. Weapons clattered to the ground as friend and enemy turned and ran. None were ordered to.
Korva's smile lingered… but it faltered. A bead of sweat traced down her temple before she masked it.
"Did I just… make a mistake?"
She smirked anyway, forcing her tone into a dagger's edge.
"I thought you wanted him dead? If anything you shouldn't look angry, you should look grateful."
Yohan looked at her.
Silent.
The tears in his eyes caught the light of his glow and for the first time, they weren't born of grief alone, but of something ancient and unshackled.
His voice was low, steady.
"Sol, take her back. All of you… get back."
His wife's lips parted, the beginnings of a protest dying as she saw the look in his eyes. His soldiers hesitated, torn between loyalty and instinct until the swirling cosmos around their king pulsed again making them obey.
The gods leaned closer. Some fascinated. Some in dread.