"At dawn, we will exploit their arrogance. They believe this land unassailable, their numbers infinite. Tomorrow, we will prove them wrong. We strike fast, hard, and without mercy—before the drums can call the horde to war."
And with that, THE WAR BEGAN.
With that, the meeting dissolved.
One by one, the goblin warriors bowed and filed out of the strategy chamber, their armoured footsteps echoing softly against the living wood. The carved board dimmed, its glowing runes fading back into the grain as the room returned to stillness.
The Transcenders followed.
Just as Raziel turned to leave—
"Raziel."
The voice cut through the air like a blade.
He stopped.
Slowly, deliberately, Raziel turned back, crimson eyes settling on the goblin commander. There was no irritation in his expression—only mild curiosity, as though indulging a creature that did not yet understand its place.
The Goblin Commander stood like a mountain carved from living stone, his posture rigid but natural, a predator at ease in its domain. His presence was heavier than the forest around him, a low gravitational pull that seemed to anchor the air and demand attention. It wasn't loud, flashy, or ostentatious—he did not roar or flare with energy—but it radiated authority, experience, and inevitability.
Even from a distance, his aura pressed subtly against the senses. It was the weight of countless battles, the patience of a lifetime spent commanding troops, and the cold calculation of a strategist who knew exactly what was coming. Every movement, even the smallest tilt of his head, carried a precision and consequence that made others flinch or step aside instinctively.
When he spoke, the room felt smaller. His voice did not shout; it resonated, vibrating through walls and bones alike, cutting through whispers and thoughts. Subtle tremors accompanied his gestures, as if reality itself acknowledged the authority he wielded.
Yet for all that, in the presence of Raziel, his aura seemed to bend and dim, like a torch struggling against the sun. The Commander's confidence and command were immense—but here was something utterly beyond him, something so fundamental that it both terrified and fascinated him.
He was a king among goblins, a general whose will shaped a domain—but next to Raziel, he felt like a student standing at the edge of infinity, aware that no amount of training, strategy, or cunning could fully prepare him for what was coming.
The goblin took a step forward.
"You," the commander said, eyes narrowing.
"You are the weakest among your group."
Silence followed.
"I feel no aura from you," he continued.
"No pressure. No authority. Nothing."
His jaw tightened.
"And yet…"
"You make me want to kneel."
The words tasted bitter in his mouth.
"You wear a crown and a circlet," the goblin pressed on, voice rising.
"But does that make you a king?"
He scoffed, attempting to claw at Raziel's confidence.
"You claim authority, yet we did not bow."
"And you forget something, Transcender—"
Raziel interrupted calmly.
"You asked me to save you."
His voice was soft.
Deadly.
"And this is how you greet me?"
For a moment—just a moment—Raziel laughed.
"Truly Amusing!"
He did not laugh loudly.
He did not laugh mockingly.
Amused.
The goblin's breath hitched.
Fear—raw, ancient, instinctive—flooded his veins.
He saw it then.
something worse.
A being so far above him that it did not need to prove anything.
Still, the commander forced himself to speak.
"In the Goblin Domain," he said stiffly,
"authority is ranked from F to S."
He gestured toward the door.
"Your companion—Esau—carries the pressure of a Supreme Being."
Then his gaze returned to Raziel.
"But you?"
"What are you supposed to be?"
Raziel's eyes sharpened.
"Be careful," he said quietly.
"It is not your place to ask such questions."
The air warped.
Reality folded.
And Raziel vanished.
The goblin commander staggered back, his knees nearly buckling.
His pride—
Shattered.
[DIMENSION: SANDBOX]
Raziel emerged into his domain without sound.
The mansion corridor glowed softly. Kami sat on the floor, completely absorbed in FIFA, controllers floating around him. Daniel lounged on the couch, watching a show that didn't exist anywhere else in reality.
Faceless Sand Agents moved efficiently through the halls—cleaning, restoring, polishing—keeping the dimension immaculate.
Everything was calm.
Controlled.
Raziel entered his room and closed the door.
"Great System," he said evenly,
"I neeed a new ability to use for the war, I'm going to use blood and wind but I need an Originality to use the wind.
He sat at the edge of the bed, crimson eyes thoughtful.
[THE GREAT TRUE PRIMORDIAL EATER has been activated]
A faint chime echoed through the Sandbox.
[Ding!]
[ABILITY DETECTED]
[Great one, I have detected an ability for your element: wind]
[Wind manipulation]
[Rank: S]
[Type: Domain/Conceptual/Movement/Power]
[Description: The ability to manipulate wind, to dissipate wind, to destroy it and to create it]
[Would you like to use Fusion of the infinite squared multiplier?]
"Yes" Raziel replied.
He was eager to know what would happen now.
[Ding!]
Ding!]
[Wind manipulation has become TRUE beyond wind]
[Originality ACQUIRED: TRUE BEYOND WIND]
[NAME: ÆTHERION — WIND OF THE FIRST BREATH] [POWER LEVEL: TRUE • BEYOND]
[RANK: OUTERVERSAL → BEYOND • META-CONCEPTUAL]
[TYPE: ATTACK / AUTHORITY / ELEMENTAL (WIND)]
[MANA COST: EXTREME → IGNORED BY INFINITE MANA USERS][COOLDOWN: NONE]
[DESCRIPTION:]
[This is not air. This is not motion. This is the first movement ever made.]
[ÆTHERION is the Wind that existed before space, before direction, before velocity. It is the Breath that taught reality how to move.]
[When invoked, all concepts of stillness, resistance, mass, distance, durability, and defence are overwritten.]
[If something exists — it can be moved. If it can be moved — it can be erased.]
[PRIMARY EFFECTS]
[All movement becomes absolute] [Resistance to motion is nullified] [Distance loses meaning] [Direction obeys the user] [Velocity is infinite by default]
[Armor, barriers, concepts, dimensions, and narratives are treated as empty space.]
[TRUE BEYOND WIND EFFECTS]
[Cuts without sharpness] [Destroys without impact] [Erases without force]
[The wind does not "hit" targets. It decides they were never stable enough to remain.]
[SUB-SKILLS — AUTOMATICALLY UNLOCKED]
[1] ALL-CUT: INFINITE CURRENT.
Every strand of wind is a blade.
• 1 cut• 1 billion cuts• Infinite cuts
All are identical in authority. The user chooses the number after the attack has already occurred.
[2]: [SOVEREIGN GALE: ZERO RESISTANCE: All forms of resistance are rewritten as acceptance.]
Physical resistance → null
Magical resistance → null
Conceptual resistance → null
Narrative resistance → null
[3] BREATH OF UNMAKINGA single exhale that removes all life from everything.]
[Peels reality layer by layer, Shreds laws into motionless fragments• Leaves only absence behind]
[Targets are not only killed. They are removed from existence.]
[4] [OMNI-DIRECTIONAL DOMINION: The wind originates from everywhere at once.]
[No blind spots]
[No safe zones]
[No escape vectors]
Dodging is meaningless.
[5] [ETERNAL CROSSWIND: All timelines, futures, and parallel outcomes are struck simultaneously.]
[Blocking in one timeline results in failure in all others.]
[PASSIVE PERKS]
[Wind recognizes you as its origin]
[Air pressure bows instinctively]
[Vacuum, storms, space, and void obey]
[Movement-based abilities of others are downgraded]
[Enemies feel pressure even in stillness]
[SPECIAL CLAUSE — TRUE BEYOND]
[This Wind does not require:• Atmosphere• Space• Reality• Existence]
[It functions in: • Void• Null• Sandbox• Outside the Tower• Outside narrative]
[SYSTEM NOTE:]
[This ability scales infinitely with: • Perception• Authority• Intent]
[The more calmly it is used —the more absolute the result.]
[Ding!]
[you have acquired a title]
[TITLE: CROWNED SOVEREIGN OF THE FINAL CURRENT]
[CLASSIFICATION: TRUE • BEYOND • GREAT-BEYOND • CROWN-BOUND][AUTHORITY TYPE: ELEMENTAL DOMINION → ABSOLUTE PRMORDIAL INFINITE AUTHORITY] [COMPATIBILITY: GREAT CROWN • SANDBOX • DIMENSIONAL EXISTENCE]
[TITLE DESCRIPTION]
[Wind is no longer an authority you possess.]
[It is a throne you sit upon.]
[You rule over: • Motion• Direction• Velocity• Escape• Flow• Progress• Regression• The act of going forward itself]
[When you rule, everything moves because you allow it.]
[CROWN-SYNC EFFECT]
[WIND CROWN SYNCHRONIZATION: 100%]
[Wind gains Judicial Authority]
[Movement becomes a law, not a mechanic]
[Resistance to Wind becomes treason]
[Defiance manifests as environmental collapse]
[Wind now answers not as force —but as subject.]
[PASSIVE — TRUE BEYOND • ABSOLUTE STRUCTURE][NAME: OBLIGATORY EXISTENCE: HIERARCHY OF ALL THINGS]
[Description: Your presence redefines existence itself. All matter, thought, life, and concept within your aura instinctively aligns to your will. Resistance, defiance, or hostility becomes conceptually impossible.]
[Effects: Involuntary Submission: Kneeling, bowing, and obedience are automatic.]
[Conceptual Slowdown: Hostile intent and actions are delayed or nullified.]
[Existential Compliance: Laws of reality, magic, and causality subtly bend to favour you.]
[Omniversal Alignment: Even abstract, incorporeal, or narrative entities instinctively defer.]
[Stillness Bowing: Time, inertia, and stasis obey your hierarchy.]
[Dimensional Reverence: Space, probability, and entropy adjust around your will.]
[Perks: Infinite Deference: All beings default to obedience.]
[Causal Preemption: Aggression is delayed until you permit it.]
[Narrative Authority: Universal constants and stories defer to your presence.]
[Omnipresence Echo: Your aura affects entities across layered realities.]
[Even stillness bows to you.]
[ACTIVE — CROWNED]
[NAME: ROYAL DECREE: MOVE]
[You issue a command — verbally, mentally, or narratively.]
[What you decree must move.]
[You may command: An enemy's heart to take one final beat• A universe to advance into collapse• A frozen timeline to resume only to end• A god to step forward into judgment]
[This command cannot be misinterpreted. Wind carries the order perfectly.]
[DISCRETION — CROWNED]
[NAME: THRONE OF THE LAST BREATH]
[All movement everywhere is paused or permitted by you]
[Escape ceases to exist as a concept]
[Time continues, but nothing progresses without consent]
[ABSOLUTE CROWN CLAUSE]
[If a being claims: • Speed• Freedom• Escape• Flow• Transcendence through movement]
[They are already within your domain.]
[They may run.]
[They will still arrive where you decided.]
"Damn…" Raziel murmured, a hint of awe threading through his otherwise unreadable expression. He let his gaze drift over the passive's description, feeling the weight and absolute perfection of its effects resonate through every fiber of his being.
"This ability… it's flawless," he continued, his voice low but carrying the authority of inevitability itself. "Every movement, every thought, every action across all existence bows to it. And it… it has 100 percent compatibility with my Crown. Perfect synergy."
He raised a hand slightly, feeling the invisible currents of submission ripple through the air, reality itself adjusting to his will. "Thank you, System," he said quietly.
Even as he spoke, the aura of the Crown and the passive fused, a subtle shimmer radiating outward. The world, the tower, the air, even the multiversal echo of distant realities seemed to lean toward him, bending subtly, acknowledging the sovereignty of Raziel ÆLNOÛS, THE ONE ABOVE ALL, Maker of Everything, Lord of Hierarchy, and Absolute Authority.
And yet, he allowed a small, satisfied smile to touch his lips. The calm before the storm—the quiet before the inevitable bending of all things—was his alone to enjoy.
["Thank you my ass"]
["Spoiled brat"]
"...."
Raziel rose from his bedroom, movements deliberate, measured, as if even the air around him deferred to his authority. This time, he did not bother with doors. They were irrelevant.
Reality itself bent quietly, obediently, around his intent. Walls softened, space folded inward like paper, and the very fabric of existence seemed to shift to accommodate him. There was no flash, no distortion, no clatter of material objects giving way. There was only him.
He appeared in the meeting chamber with effortless inevitability, standing among his waiting comrades as though he had always been there. The subtle ripple of his presence was felt across the room—the air itself thickened with the weight of his authority, the very atmosphere bowing in reverence.
Eyes flickered toward him. Some could not hide their awe, while others, more daring, tried to maintain composure but felt their wills quietly unravelling under the pressure of his presence.
It was a quiet dominance, terrifying in its subtlety. Presence itself had a weight, and he carried it like a crown, invisible but undeniable.
And this time, he released nothing so crude as aura or pressure.
What unfurled was his presence.
Not dominance. Not killing intent. It was the presence of the wind itself—no… something that existed before wind had meaning.
An authority older than motion. Older than breath.
The air in the chamber grew thin. Not because it was stolen—but because it forgot how to move. Lungs tightened. Hearts stuttered. Every soul present felt as though their next breath might be their last, taken not by force, but by inevitability.
It was insane.
And yet—undeniably real.
Yesterday, he had severed John's arm as casually as one might brush dust from a sleeve.
What would he do today?
Silence stretched. Seconds bled into minutes.
Then Jacob spoke.
"You're… you're here, Raziel," he said, voice trembling despite his effort to stand tall. His knees shook, yet his spine remained straight—an act of defiance, or perhaps devotion to The One Above All.
Raziel's gaze fell upon him—empty, unreadable.
Then his eyes shifted to Esau.
And Raziel smiled.
'Yes,' he said softly. 'He truly is the one.'
'I will make him an agent as well,' Raziel continued calmly. 'Whether he desires it… or not.'
His smile flicked briefly toward the Goblin Chief—not warm, not polite.
It was the smile that precedes extinction. A promise. An ending already written.
"Let's end this battle quickly," Raziel snarled, eyes locking onto the Commander.
The Commander straightened. "We already know the plan," he said. "We strike the rear—the weak side. Everyone guards the front gate. No one ever locks the back door. That's their weakness."
Raziel tilted his head slightly."How do you know this?" he asked. "Did you plant a spy?"
The Commander scoffed. "You're asking the obvious. How else would we—"
"That plan is wrong," Raziel interrupted. "We fight them head-on."
The room froze.
"Are you insane?" the Commander snapped, finally unable to meet Raziel's gaze. "Do you think we can win against the orcs? They outnumber us. Outpower us. They'll tear us apart!"
"They are already among us," Raziel replied calmly. "Circling. Watching. Do you truly believe the so-called 'back door' remains unguarded?"
The Commander clenched his fists. "You—"
"Instead," Raziel continued, voice absolute, "John, Jacob, Mary, and Sarah will engage them from the front. Esau and I will guard the castle."
"The strongest—?" the Commander began.
"That will be enough," Esau said firmly, stepping forward. "I will follow Raziel's lead."
"Good," Raziel replied.
No argument followed.
No choice remained.
They left.
Before them lay a battlefield carved from forgotten ages.
Thousands of shattered swords pierced the earth like gravestones. Dead bodies—remnants of wars—layered the ground in silent testimony. Civilizations had ended here. Realms had burned.
And standing atop this graveyard of history were five hundred goblins.
The best their race could offer.
Their worth measured, judged, dismissed.
and in front of them?
Four Transcenders—Maryian, Hamin-woo, Uriel, and Robin—stood at the forefront, radiating power that made the very air tremble. Behind them, a tide of two thousand Orcs stretched as far as the eye could see, a wall of raw strength and battle-hardened resolve. Even among this massive army, the weakest were still B-rank—enough to make ordinary Goblin soldiers quake at the mere sight. This was not just a battle; this was a war that would reshape everything.
How were they going to win?
Simple.
Raziel would make them win.