The battlefield was in chaos. The golden plains had long been forgotten, replaced by scorched earth, deep trenches, and shattered stone. The sky, once a vast canvas of calm blues, was now torn apart by raging winds, molten fire, and rising mist.
Gramps stood at the center of it all, his breaths coming in slow, measured inhales. His coat was in tatters, his once-pristine attire now soaked in his own blood, torn at the sleeves, the edges burned and shredded. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword—not Scarlet, not yet.
He was still holding back.
Before him stood three towering figures, each a monstrous force of nature. Ignirion, wreathed in flames, its molten core pulsing like a raging heart of destruction. Aquelis, shifting between water and ice, its form ever-changing, unpredictable. Gaianox, an indomitable titan of stone, unmoving, yet every slight motion sent tremors through the ground.
And they were relentless.
---
A Battle Without Openings
Gramps moved—his instincts flaring as Ignirion lunged forward first, its Blazing Execution attack igniting the battlefield in an instant. The firestorm surged toward him, the sheer heat distorting the air, making even breathing feel like swallowing embers.
Gramps barely had a moment to react. His boots dug into the dirt, shifting his weight as he twisted his body, narrowly avoiding the explosion. The flames exploded behind him, but before he could counter—
Aquelis was already there.
The water golem struck like a phantom, its arms shifting into razor-thin blades of liquid, moving in perfect synchrony with Ignirion's attack. The heat from the fire hadn't dissipated—Aquelis had absorbed it.
The water shifted.
It wasn't just a strike.
It was steam.
Hundreds of nearly invisible, superheated blades materialized mid-air, slicing toward Gramps with terrifying speed.
Gramps ducked, rolling to the side, but the moment his boots touched the ground—
Gaianox was waiting.
The earth ruptured beneath him, the titan's Seismic Havoc shattering the land. Chunks of rock and debris flew into the air like cannon fire, the very ground beneath his feet collapsing.
Gramps had nowhere to step.
---
The Relentless Assault
For the first time in the fight, Gramps felt himself losing ground.
The synergy between the golems was almost unnatural. Fire forced him to move, water cut off his escape, and earth punished wherever he landed.
And Vaelor...
He was just watching.
Gramps exhaled sharply, dodging to the left. His instincts barely saved him from an ice spear that materialized out of nowhere, but a second too late—
A molten fist from Ignirion collided with his side.
BOOM.
Gramps gritted his teeth, pain exploding through his ribs as he was sent skidding across the battlefield. His body rolled several times before he forced himself to a stop, one knee crashing into the cracked earth.
His breathing was heavier now.
His coat was nearly burned through, his exposed arms covered in cuts, bruises, and scorch marks.
---
The Limits of Celestial Step
Gramps exhaled sharply, his fingers twitching at his side. The thought had crossed his mind—Celestial Step. His ultimate mobility technique, the one thing that could instantly reposition him, buy him time, or escape a direct kill-zone.
But he didn't use it.
Because he couldn't.
He had already used it twice. The first time to relocate their battlefield, the second in a desperate mid-air escape when Aquelis nearly impaled him. A younger man might have been able to force a third usage, but he wasn't young anymore.
Celestial Step wasn't an ordinary teleportation technique. It didn't just move the body—it rewrote its position in reality. The sheer energy required wasn't just physical—it tore into his stamina, drained his very core.
A third use was still possible.
But if he did it now? That would be it.
His body would shut down. His energy would be gone. He wouldn't even be able to lift his sword.
The realization hit him like a weight of this was it. No more tricks. No more instant escapes.
If he wanted to win this battle, he had to stand his ground.
No running.
No teleporting.
Just pure, raw survival.
His fingers twitched away from the hilt of Scarlet.
Not yet.
He clenched his fists, raising his gaze toward the five towering forces of destruction before him.
If Celestial Step was off the table…
Then he'd have to end this fight with his own two hands.
And the golems—
They weren't stopping.
Aquelis surged forward, forming a massive tidal wave, while Gaianox raised a mountain of stone, preparing to crush Gramps where he stood.
"Still standing, old man?" Vaelor's voice cut through the chaos.
Gramps didn't answer.
He was too busy surviving.
The younger warrior tilted his head, watching as the golems continued their assault. His grip on Vaeloris was loose, casual—he still hadn't truly entered the battle.
Because he didn't need to.
Not yet.
"You're barely keeping up as it is," Vaelor continued, his voice laced with amusement. "And that's just three of them."
Gramps exhaled sharply.
He knew what was coming.
Vaelor smirked. "Let's finish this, then."
---
The Final Two Golems Appear
Vaelor raised a single hand.
The moment his fingers snapped—
The battlefield shattered.
A deafening roar of wind erupted as the sky darkened. Thunder cracked, streaks of lightning splitting the heavens. The ground trembled—not from Gaianox, but from something even faster.
A blur of wind materialized out of nowhere, moving with impossible speed—
And then, with a howl, it took form.
Tempestus—the Storm Phantom.
A streak of pure wind and lightning, barely tangible, yet its very presence cut through the battlefield like a blade.
Before Gramps could react—
The temperature dropped.
Instantly.
The ground beneath his feet froze solid, the moisture in the air crystallizing into deadly spikes of jagged ice.
And then—
The final golem rose.
A monstrous behemoth of pure frost, its body shifting between hardened ice and spectral mist. Its eyes burned with an eerie blue glow, and the moment it fully formed—
The battlefield itself turned into a frozen wasteland.
Glacivor—the Absolute Zero Enforcer.
The final piece.
All five golems now stood before Gramps.
---
The Moment of Silence
For the first time—
Vaelor's smirk faded.
He lowered his sword slightly, watching as the battlefield fell into silence.
The wind howled.
The ground steamed where fire met ice.
And at the center of it all—
Gramps stood alone.
His breathing was slow, steady. His stance unwavering. His eyes sharp.
Even against five legendary forces of nature, even as his body bled, even as his lungs burned—
He refused to kneel.
Vaelor exhaled.
Then, slowly—his smirk returned.
"Alright, old man," he said, tilting his sword slightly. "Let's see if you can survive this."
And with that—
The golems attacked all at once.
---
The moment the last two golems—Tempestus and Glacivor—joined the battlefield, the atmosphere shifted entirely.
This was no longer just a fight.
This was a calamity.
Wind, fire, water, ice, and earth—**five elements, five forces of destruction—**all turned their focus toward one single man.
And then—
They attacked.
---
Five Elements, One Target
Vaelor lowered his raised hand, his smirk widening as the storm of devastation began.
The first to strike—Ignirion.
Its entire body flared like an unstable sun, heat waves rolling off its molten form. Then, with a monstrous roar, it unleashed its deadliest technique—
🔥 Flame Requiem.
The ground beneath Gramps cracked and exploded as an inferno of liquid fire erupted from the golem's core. The very air ignited, turning into a sea of flames that consumed everything in its path.
But Gramps moved.
His boots dug into the shattered earth, his instincts flaring—
And just as the firestorm reached him—
🌊 Aquelis struck.
From within the hellish flames, water surged. Tsunami Oblivion crashed downward, a massive vortex of water swallowing the entire battlefield. The fire and water collided, creating a blinding mist that swallowed everything.
🔥 Fire.
🌊 Water.
They weren't just attacking—they were combining their forces.
Gramps gritted his teeth, his breath sharp as his mind calculated a way out.
And then—Gaianox moved.
🌍 Titan's Annihilation.
The ground beneath Gramps collapsed completely—massive stone pillars shot up from below, aiming to crush him from all directions. The battlefield became an earthquake of destruction, shaking with such force that the very land split apart.
Gramps twisted mid-air, using the debris as a foothold to push himself away—
But the moment he landed—
🌪 Tempestus struck.
A single blur of wind.
Gramps barely saw it coming.
Tempestus moved with impossible speed, faster than thought itself.
And then—
❄ Glacivor followed.
With Absolute Zero Cage, the ice golem encased the battlefield in a frozen wasteland. The mist from Aquelis' water attack had turned into razor-sharp frost, creating an unavoidable web of death.
🌍 Earth.
🔥 Fire.
🌊 Water.
🌪 Wind.
❄ Ice.
All five elements had trapped him.
Then—
They released their finishing move.
---
The Cataclysmic Combo – "Primordial Catastrophe"
The golems didn't stop.
This was their ultimate technique—a fusion of all five elements, converging into one singular destruction.
A massive sphere of energy formed in the sky, crackling with power.
🔥 Ignirion's molten core fueled the center.
🌊 Aquelis' water condensed into a pressurized bomb.
🌍 Gaianox hardened the shell into an unbreakable meteor.
🌪 Tempestus spun the energy at supersonic speed.
❄ Glacivor infused it with absolute cold, creating a chaotic thermal imbalance.
The energy compressed.
Then—
It imploded.
A violent shockwave erupted, wiping out everything in a mile radius.
The entire battlefield vanished in white.
Silence.
Nothing but mist.
Nothing but devastation.
Vaelor watched the aftermath, his sword still resting on his shoulder, the corner of his lips twitching upward.
There was no way Gramps had survived that.
His smirk widened. "It's over."
The mist lingered, thick and suffocating.
The golems stood still, their bodies flickering faintly as if awaiting confirmation of their victory.
Seconds passed.
Then—
A shadow moved.
---
The Return of the Unbreakable Warrior
Through the thick mist, footsteps echoed.
Slow. Measured. Unshaken.
Vaelor's smirk froze.
As the mist cleared—
There he was.
Gramps.
Standing.
Alive.
His entire body was drenched in blood. His coat was barely holding together, its fabric torn and burned, revealing his scarred, battle-worn form beneath. His arms were covered in deep cuts, his knuckles raw, his breath slow but steady.
And yet—
He smiled.
Vaelor's grip on Vaeloris tightened.
"…What the fuck?"
For the first time—he felt it.
Not amusement.
Not confidence.
Something deeper.
Something dangerous.
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, his gaze lifting to the five towering golems that had just unleashed a storm of death upon him.
"That," he muttered, rolling his shoulders, "wasn't bad."
Vaelor's eyes narrowed. "Impossible…"
"You're really something else, old man."
Gramps exhaled. His fingers twitched toward his waist.
"I know."
Even the golems, for the first time, seemed to hesitate.
Gramps took a step forward.
Then another.
Then—
The golems moved again.
No hesitation this time.
But Gramps wasn't looking at them anymore.
His eyes were on Vaelor.
He had finally realized something.
And for the first time in this battlle he had a plan.
Now, he knows how to win.
But can he execute it?
---
TO BE CONTINUED…