Chapter 61: The Fallen King
As the smoke slowly cleared—
From the shattered rubble rose Neraxis.
His crimson eyes burned dimly now, flickering like dying embers.
His hands were gone.
Literally gone.
Blood poured endlessly from torn flesh, splattering onto the cracked streets below. His body staggered, barely upright, every breath a battle.
He let out a hollow laugh, coughing violently as blood spilled from his mouth.
"I lost…"
His voice trembled.
"…didn't I?"
Kael stood still.
No rush.
No victory pose.
Just calm.
"Yeah," Kael replied plainly.
"You did."
He took a step forward, green eyes steady, unwavering.
"You were indeed the strongest being in all of history."
"But today—right now—"
"I surpassed you, Neraxis."
Neraxis' knees buckled.
He staggered forward, chest heaving, coughing blood again and again, each step heavier than the last.
And so—
The duel ended.
Winner: Kael Draven.
Yet the battlefield was not silent.
Gorou.
Yarau.
They still remained.
Neraxis suddenly grinned—wide, cracked, desperate.
With everything he had left, he screamed—
"GOROU!!!"
"YARAU!!!!!"
"COME!!!!!"
Kael's shoulders tensed.
Not happening.
"Like I'd let that happen."
Gorou rushed forward, intent clear—healing.
Kael vanished.
THUD!
His fist slammed Gorou straight through a building, concrete exploding outward like shrapnel.
From behind—
Swish!
Yarau's punch tore through the air, aimed straight for Kael's spine.
Kael turned.
And smiled.