The molten god staggered, its enormous frame trembling as rivers of lava were channeled into traps by Arin's command. Every movement it made was met with calculated opposition. Golems slammed into its legs, siege engines pounded its torso, and archers fired volleys that struck molten joints again and again. Each blow slowed it, disrupted its rhythm, and fed Arin's exponential growth.
The crowd had fallen silent. Even the other summoners could not comprehend what they were witnessing. The arena, once a place of worship and fear, had transformed into a warzone controlled entirely by a single boy. A null. A nobody. Yet here he stood, orchestrating destruction on a scale no god or mortal had ever achieved.
The molten giant roared, molten rock splashing across the battlefield, but it faltered. Its steps became hesitant. Its arms, once capable of leveling mountains, swung blindly and ineffectively. Arin's empire responded instantly, fortresses erupting from the dust to block paths, cavalry flanking, rivers redirecting molten flows, and golems crushing limbs mid-swing.
The summoner's face twisted in horror. "Impossible! This… this can't be!"
Arin's calm smile remained unchanged. He didn't even glance at the summoner. His focus was the battlefield—the chessboard, the empire, the army that moved as one under his will. "You rely on gods," he said softly. "I rely on creation. I do not fight with divine power… I fight with the world itself."
With a subtle gesture, Arin shifted terrain around the molten god. Hills rose behind it, trapping it in a narrow corridor. Rivers split, channeling molten lava into precise traps. Golems pressed forward relentlessly, hammering its legs and joints. Archers fired from newly-formed towers, striking weak points the god could not defend. The battlefield was alive—and every element answered to him.
The molten god stumbled again, staggering under relentless pressure. Lava hissed as it fell into channeled rivers. Its immense fists shook with frustration and exhaustion. The summoner screamed commands, desperation in every word, but the god could no longer respond effectively.
The spectators whispered, awestruck: "A null… controlling empires… he's unstoppable…"
Arin's eyes scanned the arena. His empire stretched as far as the eye could see—armies, cities, fleets, rivers, and fortresses, all moving in perfect harmony. He did not need gods to dominate. He was a world unto himself.
And then, far above the arena, a new figure appeared. A summoner Arin had not noticed before—a silhouette framed against the blood-red sky, radiating an aura that made even the molten god hesitate. Its presence was commanding, chilling, and unmistakably powerful.
Arin's smile widened. He recognized the aura immediately: a rival. One who had seen his display and understood its implications.
Good, he thought. Let the real challenge begin.
The molten god, already reeling, now faced an even more dangerous prospect. The arena was about to erupt in chaos on a scale no one had ever imagined. And Arin? He was ready.
I am not a null. I am an empire. And I will break every god, every summoner, every obstacle in my path.