[Aethel]
[The Grand Colosseum]
A storm of voices erupted through the Grand Colosseum, shaking the foundations of the large area. Millions of spectators roared in exhilaration, their voices blending into a deafening sound. Fists pounded against seats, banners waved furiously, flares ignited in the stands—all in response to the absolute, unfathomable onslaught taking place before their eyes.
And at the center of it all—
A massive, high-resolution screen displayed a battle.
Within the screen, a blazing crimson comet streaked through the skies, tearing through it with absurd velocity. Enveloped in a red aura, Mikoto twisted, spun, and maneuvered through the endless barrage of attacks hurtling toward him.
Before him, standing in the air, was Lyraeth. Now in her Arcane Ascendance form.
Her now long, fiery-red hair fell down her back, each strand alive with a burst of fire. A magnificent golden headdress encircled her head, elaborate and wing-like.
Her gilded armor was a masterpiece, every inch made with extreme craftsmanship—layered, overlapping plates decorated with embedded jewels. The centerpiece, a corset-like chest plate, boasted a layered design.
Her beauty stole the breath of the onlookers, as did her wild nature. Making most second guess whether they should fancy her.
As in this moment—she was unleashing an apocalypse.
With a single motion, she raised her hand.
The air exploded.
From her palm, an enormous surge of fire erupted, spanning the entire area in a colossal wave. The intensity of heat melted the air, creating a mirage-like distortion.
A heartbeat later—
B O O M
The wave descended upon Mikoto, the colossal flames expanded outward, swallowing the vast area, threatening to consume everything in a sea of burning annihilation.
Mikoto did not stop. A split-second before impact—he vanished.
A sonic explosion ruptured the atmosphere, and within the blink of an eye, Mikoto reappeared in the sky—above the fire, unscathed. His red mana surged in wild ripples, the air around him distorting under the force of his movement.
Spectators leapt from their seats, unable to believe what they had just witnessed. Even the most hardened warriors, the most experienced sorcerers—all gawked in utter disbelief.
But there was no time to process.
Because in that very moment a golden streak tore through the sky in the screen.
A radiant blur shot through, moving beyond normal perception—a figure bathed in resplendent light, moving so fast it seemed as if time bowed to him.
It was the spawn of the Goddess of light.
His now long, flowing white hair streamed behind him, and his gold armor gleamed with light. His flowing, white cape-like garment flew behind him, catching the golden light of the halo that encircled him.
Mikoto barely had time to react.
Vulcan descended upon him like a lightning bolt, his body moving at speeds that defied the laws of nature. The sky split apart from the force of his momentum.
His strike came without hesitation.
A razor-thin arc of golden mana slashed through the area, cutting through clouds, air, time seemed to slow. A millisecond before impact, he twisted.
A violent red vortex erupted from him, his red mana clashing with the golden light of Vulcan's strike. The two forces detonated upon impact, sending shockwaves through the air.
The there was a thick silence. For a split second—there was nothing but the aftermath.
The smoke and the residual mana obscured everything.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE GODDESS OCTAVIA DID WE JUST WITNESS?!?" The Announcer's voice shattered through the silence, his disbelief palpable. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN—HAVE YOU EVER—IN YOUR ENTIRE LIVES—SEEN A BATTLE OF THIS MAGNITUDE?!"
The crowd went berserk.
Millions screamed. The energy inside the Colosseum was beyond control, beyond reason and beyond sanity.
-------------------
[???]
A scarlet streak tore through the sky, descending at blinding velocity.
BOOM!
The ground shattered violently as Mikoto slammed into the surface, his body hitting the desolate land with enough force to trigger a seismic wave. A massive dust storm engulfed the area, obscuring all visibility.
Mikoto stood.
High above, three figures loomed in the sky. The three Inheritors now encircled Mikoto.
("Kinda wish I didn't get amateurs; it seems they're still stuck with using magic to imitate their Gods' power. None of them can use their abilities to the fullest,") he mused as the three tensed.
The first to move was Lyraeth.
A single pulse of mana from her body annihilated the ground beneath her, she summoned a weapon.
A radiant blade—a colossal, uniquely sculpted golden greatsword, the odd engravings along its edges pulsed, channels of mana mixing through its design.
Mikoto said nothing as he lifted a single hand.
A silver blade materialized in his grasp.
Not his Saber.
Just a simple, crafted silver sword, one that seemed almost mundane.
Lyraeth did not seem to mind as she charged, he merely stood there.
Lyraeth vanished. A sudden burst of searing flames erupted, her form disappearing into an blur of speed, on an instant she was in front of Mikoto. Her greatsword cleaved downward in a colossal arc, a strike that could bisect most, the blade radiating an unbearable heat too, distorting the the air around it.
Mikoto moved.
With a single motion, he lifted his silver sword and their blades met.
A shockwave erupted from the point of impact, the ground screamed, the force of their clash sending waves of force rippling across the surface, carving out deep trenches miles wide.
Mikoto hadn't budged despite her absurd strength boosted by Arcane Ascendance, Lyraeth's face twisted in delight.
Her full-powered strike, intercepted with ease.
"How exciting!"
Mikoto tilted his head, then, without warning he pushed forward.
And Lyraeth was sent flying.
Before she could even react, Mikoto moved.
A blur streaked across the area, his silver blade flashed forward, seeking to carve through Lyraeth's golden armor. She twisted mid-air, her sword whirling around in a defensive maneuver.
CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!
A barrage of steel-on-steel as their swords met in rapid succession, Lyraeth countered with a vicious diagonal sweep. Mikoto ducked, weaving around the deadly arc, then retaliated with a sharp upward thrust. Lyraeth parried, barely. Sparks flew as the force of the parry sent massive energy waves crashing outward, reducing the surrounding area to rubble. She retaliated, lunging forward with a brutal stab aimed straight for Mikoto's heart.
Mikoto sidestepped.
Just barely.
The tip of her blade grazed his armor, but in that same instant Mikoto acted. His silver blade slid along the length of her greatsword, slipping through the gaps in her defense—
And in a flash, the edge of his weapon stopped just a hair's breadth from Lyraeth's throat.
She froze.
For a single, fleeting moment—she realized she had lost that exchange. Her mana detonated immediately.
A massive pillar of fire erupted, engulfing both of them. Mikoto leapt back, escaping the colossal fire. Lyraeth, undeterred shot upward, her greatsword now wreathed in a golden blaze, her mana surging to unimaginable levels.
Mikoto landed, only to immediately surge forward.
Their swords met again—
("This carrot top is way more skilled than me with a sword,") he mentally noted. Her skill was clear, yet it could not make up for the monumental gap in pure physical might.
Mikoto weaved through her onslaught, his sword deflecting, redirecting, parrying each strike. Lyraeth unleashed a stronger attack as her excitement skyrocketed, a colossal downward strike empowered by more of her strength, her sword glowing.
Mikoto hummed as he sidestepped. Her blade slammed into the ground and Mikoto's sword pressed against her throat.
For the second time.
Lyraeth's eyes widened.
She had lost the exchange again.
She had used everything.
And yet Mikoto still fought with one hand.
Her eyes flickered, still processing the overwhelming gap between them, her breath catching in her throat.
But Mikoto wasn't finished, his body barely shifted.
BOOM.
With blinding speed, he pivoted on his heel, and in a single, fluid motion, he drove his foot forward. His sabaton slammed into Lyraeth's midsection. The impact tore the air apart. A monstrous shockwave erupted, shattering the already devastated ground beneath him, sending a crackling rupture of force rippling across the battlefield.
Lyraeth's armor cracked on impact, and before she could even register the pain—
She was launched skyward.
Her body became a golden streak, shooting upward at such an insane velocity that the air around her ignited, she didn't stop.
Higher.
Higher.
Higher.
Until she disappeared into the upper atmosphere, a golden speck swallowed, a split second.
That was all the time Mikoto had before the others rebelled. From across the ruined wasteland, Reynard moved. It seemed he did not want Lyraeth to get caught up in his attack.
He slammed his massive spear into the ground. A deep boom rang out, reverberating through the area. The force of the impact shattered the surface, sending cracks spiderwebbing for miles, fissures howling open as violent torrents of mana-infused water erupted from the depths.
Two titanic, mountain-sized hurricanes manifested into existence. They were colossal twisting spires of churning, blackened water, infused with Reynard's mana, each one stretching so high that their peaks vanished into the stratosphere.
The force of their formation alone was apocalyptic.
The surrounding terrain was instantly obliterated, the ground collapsing beneath the weight of their gravitational pull, the pressure in the air skyrocketed.
Lightning thundered and the winds screamed.
Reynard's voice boomed across, "TWIN ABYSSAL MONARCHS!"
"This feeling..." Mikoto's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet in thought. The sense of unease did not stem from the sheer scale of the hurricanes; rather, the power Reynard used seemed to be imbued with the Abyss. This was even ignoring the ominous name.
Meanwhile the hurricanes roared to life, surging forward. Their velocity warped space, twisting the area as the colossal whirlpools advanced, consuming everything in their path. The pressure alone would be enough to crush mountains into dust.
And it was all aimed at Mikoto.
Mikoto scoffed as the hurricanes drew closer.
He simply swung his blade, a single, casual swipe. Just a lazily executed, horizontal arc of silver.
The very moment his blade cut through the air, an unimaginable force erupted. A monstrous, invisible pressure tore across the area, warping the space in its path. The force of his swing seemed to split all in its path.
The winds screamed and the ground detonated outward.
The hurricanes—
They ceased to exist.
Not dispersed, not redirected, they were simply dismissed.
Gone.
Reduced to absolute nothingness, the sky cleared in an instant, the winds stopped howling, the lightning ceased.
The aftershock of Mikoto's attack flattened the surrounding terrain, leveling everything, parting the clouds in the upper atmosphere, and creating a wound in the world.
Mikoto shook his head. "Careful. Your little attacks might sting me a little." His voice was quiet, not the least bit disturbed.
But to Reynard? It was terrifying.
His eyes widened behind his glowing blue faceplate.
He felt it in that moment, the overwhelming disparity. That attack—one of his strongest techniques—had been erased.
Simply dismissed, like it was nothing, .ike it was an inconvenience. A bead of cold sweat trailed down his neck, despite the atmosphere.
They were attacking carefully, they were holding nothing back. Mikoto still wasn't taking them seriously. This wasn't a fight, this was an execution in slow motion.
And Mikoto was the Executioner.
But it was not over just yet—
From above, high, Vulcan watched. Being the weakest when it came to close quarters combat, his abilities served better at a distance.
He raised a hand.
And the skies answered.
A tremor shook the upper atmosphere as thousands upon thousands of radiant bolts of light ignited into existence, coalescing into a vast barrage. The bolts of light swarmed together, each individual bolt was blinding, a lance of pure, unfiltered light, superheated. The air twisted and groaned beneath the collective mana surging above.
He gestured once more.
They fell.
A storm of destruction descended on Mikoto. The air howled, ripped apart by their velocity. The ground quaked, rupturing beneath the force of their descent.
That was hardly all.
Far above, Lyraeth had recovered. Her body still ached from Mikoto's devastating kick, but she ignored the pain, her eyes smoldering with ecstacy.
"Now this is what I'm talking about!" She bellowed from on high.
This wasn't enough. They needed more. Her hands ignited. An infernal sphere formed between her palms, a single burning ember of fire—
And then it grew.
And grew.
And grew.
The sphere expanded wildly, swallowing the sky in its ever-rising heat, swelling into an unimaginably vast, mass. It was more so a miniature sun now. A burning celestial body that screamed with incinerating heat, its surface roiling with uncontrollable solar flares. The atmosphere around it distorted, melting into a mirage.
Everything beneath it would cease to exist.
Lyraeth's voice echoed despite being so far away. "BURN IN THE FLAMES OF ANNIHILATION!"
And with that, she hurled the sun downward.
A force erupted, sending shockwaves rippling outward as the miniature star began its descent, falling alongside Vulcan's rain of light.
At the very center of it all Mikoto remained still. His eyes narrowed beneath his helmet, reflecting the combined onslaught of obliteration coming straight for him.
Even so there was no panic, no fear, not even concern.
Instead—
He raised his blade, just slightly.
Impact followed shortly after.
The moment the bolts of light and the miniature sun collided with Mikoto's raised blade, a monstrous, deafening explosion erupted, dwarfing everything that had come before. The detonation was instantaneous, unleashing an all-consuming tidal wave of destruction that rippled across the entire battlefield with unparalleled ferocity.
The entire planet quaked.
The atmosphere ruptured.
The blast's magnitude sent a shockwave surging outward, carving an unimaginable crater into the ground and obliterating the terrain beneath their feet. The sky turned white. A pillar of annihilation ascended into the skies, piercing the stratosphere and extending beyond, its light outshining the actual sun. The ground shattered for miles, entire mountain ranges flattened in an instant.
A massive wall of dust and debris erupted into the air, a towering barrier so thick and vast, that it swallowed the entire area, everything was engulfed, nothing remained visible.
For a moment—
There was nothing.
No sound or movement.
Only a suffocating silence as the thick, wall of dust loomed over them, concealing everything. The ground still trembled from the force of the explosion, due to the monstrous power that had been unleashed.
Lyraeth descended as she landed beside Reynard and Vulcan, the three of them standing at the edge of the destruction, eyes locked onto the thick dust storm ahead.
Seconds passed.
A minute.
Two.
The tension was suffocating and Reynard prayed that the attack got him. But it seemed no prayers would be answered this day.
There was a faint shift in the dust the a shadow.
Mikoto emerged.
His black armor now bore light battle damage. A chip had been torn from his helmet, revealing one piercing, blood-red eye, sharp, beautiful and feminine—
And it glared.
"Is that really all?" His voice dripped with condescension. He rolled his wrist lazily, flexing his fingers as if warming up. He tilted his head slightly, his gaze, locked onto them, was calm.
Yet it was terrifying. Because in that single eye, in that one mocking glance, one truth was made clear—
He wasn't even trying.
"Excitement."
"Necessity."
"Fear."
A impossibly wide grin spread beneath his shattered helmet, his single exposed eye burning with an eerie emotion. "I see…"
It was a simple phrase.
But the way he said it sent a suffocating wave of unease crashing down upon his opponents. Vulcan's radiant form dimmed, but there was no glory in his form, no righteous fire in his stance.
Instead—
He merely sighed, tilting his head as the mask-like tarp flowing over his face shifted slightly in the wind. "Seems we've really gotten the short end of the stick here, huh?" His tone was exasperated, not fitting of a divine warrior.
It was as if he had been thrown into a fight he had no real interest in partaking in.
And perhaps, that was the truth.
Vulcan had seen many battles, fought many adversaries, clashed with some of the most monstrous of Astrothians as an Inheritor.
Yet this…
This was different. This was like staring into the Abyss and watching it grin back. He could already tell. This was a fight he wanted no part in.
But Reynard?
He was silent.
Not because he had nothing to say—
But because his mind refused to process what he had just witnessed. The sheer effortlessness of it. The arrogance in the way Mikoto had dismissed their combined assault with a simple block. He had known—everyone had known—that Mikoto was strong.
But this?
This was wrong.
This wasn't how it was supposed to go.
He could feel his own breath shuddering, his grip on his spear tightening, his thoughts scrambling for an explanation. ("He's just been using enhancement magic as well. Not even an offensive spell or anything.")
His throat felt dry.
Enhancement magic.
That was all he had been using?
Not even an actual attack spell?
A pit formed in his stomach.
This kind of power… this kind of absolute, overwhelming dominance…
It was unnerving.
No—
It was terrifying.
But while Reynard was locked in fear, Lyraeth was different.
She stood at the ready still, grinning. Not just in nervousness—though it was there, flashing in her golden eyes—but in something else.
Excitement.
She licked her lips, fingers tightening around the hilt of her blade. Every fiber of her being screamed at her, told her that this was danger, that this was an opponent she should not be facing.
Even so her body disagreed. The heat in her core, the tingling anticipation flooding her limbs, the way her heart hammered just a little faster.
It was intoxicating.
Mikoto was terrifying.
Mikoto was absurdly powerful.
Mikoto was in control.
And she liked that.
She took another step forward, lowering her stance, readying herself to fight again.
Mikoto noticed.
A flicker of annoyance crossed his exposed features.
"Oh?" His tone was snarky. "Getting excited, really?"
Lyraeth coughed in her fist, she refused to answer. Instead, she simply grinned wider, baring her teeth.
("The redhead is the only one here worth a damn.") He had already noticed it—her absurd destructive capabilities, the subtleness of her combat techniques. It wasn't just raw strength. No, Lyraeth was dangerous because she was smart.
She had placed charms in her earlier attack, something he only noticed after his armor refused to repair itself. ("The enhancements of my armor ain't working, I'll have to fic 'em.")
She had taken note of that before the battle even truly began.
If he ranked the Inheritors, she'd only be fifth. Tied with that white-haired woman.
His excitement spiked.
("Seems she can't go all out though, hm if she didn't imitate her God's power through magic than I would have been in some serious trouble. She'll be a force when she gets stronger.")
Everything was falling into place, Arcane Ascendance was closer than ever before.
And these poor fools? They were simply stepping stones.
"Come on then." His blade gleamed, raised at his side, his single hand gripping it loosely. "Show me something worth remembering."