Smoke and dust clouded the battlefield.
The eight of them collapsed to their knees, their bodies trembling, every drop of magic nearly spent after stopping the colossal stone that threatened to crush them.
For a moment, silence. Just the sound of ragged breathing.
But then—
CRACK!
From the broken earth, roots as thick as iron spears erupted. Twisting, coiling, they lashed around the exhausted eight, binding them mid-air. The roots pulsed, draining their magic as if feasting on their very life force.
"Ughh—! My magic—it's slipping away—!" one gasped.
Another screamed as the roots tightened, cutting deeper.
Vaelora's voice rang out, mocking and merciless.
"You are all pathetic. This generation… nothing but wasted potential. How shameful it would be if any of you belonged to my empire."
Her laughter echoed, sharp and cruel.
But then—
Cling!
A single spark of lightning traced through the suffocating roots.
A blade's arc cut cleanly through the bindings in one sweeping strike.
CRASH! The roots shattered, and the eight fell to the ground, gasping, but alive.
Through the haze, they saw him.
Imperial—standing tall, his blade humming with lightning, his two companions beside him. One of them carried the unconscious Jack over his shoulder.
The woman's expression hardened.
"So… you appear stronger than this rabble. But do not assume you can defeat me."
Roots surged toward Imperial like a forest of spears.
But the instant they reached for him—he was gone.
—Flash!
Imperial appeared behind her. His voice, sharp as thunder:
"Too slow. For a so-called former ruler of an empire… you are truly pathetic."
Her eyes widened, but before she could react—
High above her, Imperial's aura flared, "Sphere of Destruction."
A dark sphere ignited in the air—unstable, humming with pure annihilation.
BOOM!
The explosion engulfed Elara, tearing through her roots. Shockwaves blasted the ground apart.
In the very next heartbeat, Imperial reappeared—this time behind Septimus Draven.
The hiss of a blade unsheathing split the air.
"Lightning Magic: Two Hundred and Sixteen-Folding Sticks!"
His Raikatsu blade danced, slashing faster than the eye could follow. Each strike carried thunder's fury, raining upon Draven with merciless precision.
Both ancient emperors staggered back—wounded, blood drawn, their pride shattered.
And Imperial stood in the center, dark magic waves around him.
"Imperial!!" Dawn and Tracey's voices rang out together—half fury, half desperation.
Gray and Ari also turned toward him, their eyes sharp with disbelief.
Tracey's body ignited with flames as he shifted into his beast form, fire licking across his fur. Dawn gripped her iron rod, its surface glowing a brilliant blue as energy surged through it.
With no hesitation, both of them charged forward at full speed, the ground cracking beneath their steps.
"Why did you leave us?! Answer me!!" Tracey roared, his voice trembling with rage.
But just before their strikes could reach Imperial, Reyn intervened. Threads of string lashed through the air, wrapping around Tracey's limbs. The threads hissed and smoked against the scorching heat of his beast flame, but even burning away, they managed to halt his motion, freezing him mid-charge.
At the same time, Dawn swung her glowing rod toward Imperial. But before she could close the distance, Elara appeared, her blade magic flashing. Dawn twisted her strike, weaving the blood magic Elara unleashed as though it were liquid water flowing under her command. For a moment, it looked like Dawn might break through.
But Elara's focus sharpened, and with a swift motion she snapped her hand downward. Crimson coils of blood surged up and wrapped tightly around Dawn's feet, binding her in place. No matter how she struggled, the bindings held fast, rooting her to the ground.
The old Emperor seized the opening, moving swiftly to strike Imperial from behind. At the same moment, the Empress lunged forward in a flash, razor-sharp leaves in both hands, her attack aimed straight at Imperial's heart.
But the moment her blades touched him, Imperial's body dissolved into a gaseous form, her strike slicing through nothing but mist. The attack was wasted.
High above, the Emperor conjured massive stones, hurling them down like falling meteors. Yet before they could crash into Imperial, Ari dashed forward. With a single brilliant swing of her blade, a radiant white line split across the sky. Every boulder shattered at once, fragments raining harmlessly to the ground.
Without pause, Ari's speed surged. She closed the distance to Emperor Draven, her blade clashing against him head-on. The impact sent the Emperor flying backward, crashing through the battlefield.
On the other side, Imperial now faced the Empress alone. She struck again and again, slashing with her razor-leaf blades in a deadly flurry. But Imperial, moving with lightning speed, weaved left and right, dodging every strike as though it were a mere game. In a flash, he vanished—reappearing above her.
A dark arc of magic carved downward from his hand, aiming to cleave her in two. The strike landed, splitting her body cleanly in half—
But it dissolved instantly. A wooden clone.
From behind, the real Empress struck, driving her blade of leaves straight into Imperial's stomach. For a moment, her eyes lit with victory.
But Imperial only smiled. Slowly, the leaf blades began to smolder, dissolving into nothing as though burning away into ash. The Empress gasped in shock, pain flashing across her face as she realized her own fingers were caught in the magic, one severed cleanly in the process.
Breath hitching, she immediately retreated, leaping back to put distance between herself and Imperial, her expression darkening with the realization of just how dangerous he truly was.
The Empress skidded back across the torn battlefield, clutching her injured hand, her crimson eyes narrowing. The air around her rippled as razor-sharp leaves bloomed into existence, circling her like a storm of blades.
Imperial didn't move. He stood calmly, faint sparks of lightning crawling across his shoulders, his smile never fading.
"You think distance will save you?" he said, his voice calm yet cutting.
With a sharp cry, the Empress launched her storm. Thousands of leaf-blades screamed through the air, each one honed to pierce stone and steel. The battlefield turned into a whirlwind of green and silver, the storm rushing in to shred Imperial where he stood.
But in that instant—he vanished.
A crack of thunder split the sky as Imperial reappeared above her, his body flickering with lightning. The blades tore through his afterimage, shredding nothing but air.
The Empress spun, already anticipating him. Her arm whipped upward, and a giant leaf-blade stretched from her hand like a greatsword. She swung upward in a lethal arc.
Steel and storm collided. Imperial caught the strike with his bare hand, lightning flaring violently against the living blade. Sparks and shards flew in every direction as the two forces clashed.
"Impossible—" the Empress hissed, her strength straining against his grip.
Imperial's smile widened. "You're too slow."
In a flash, his other hand shot forward. Dark lightning condensed into a spear and drove straight toward her chest.
At the last second, the Empress twisted her body, forcing the spear to graze across her side instead of piercing her heart. Blood sprayed as she cried out, flipping backward to escape.
Landing hard, she clutched her wound, her breathing ragged but her gaze fierce. She raised her remaining hand high. The ground beneath them trembled, and from the soil sprouted enormous stalks of thorned vines, each tipped with jagged leaves that gleamed like swords. The vines writhed and lashed out, trying to cage Imperial inside a forest of death.
But Imperial only closed his eyes for a moment, as if amused. Lightning surged outward from his body in a dome-like wave, incinerating every vine that dared approach. The battlefield was left scorched, smoking, and silent.
The Empress staggered back, her storm shattered, her body bleeding, her expression dark with both fury and fear.
Imperial stepped forward slowly, the crackle of his lightning echoing with each step. "Is that all, Empress?
But then—the battlefield began to change.
The cracked ground softened, sprouts bursting upward, spreading faster than fire. In seconds, the ruins had become a vast forest. Trees surged skyward, their roots tearing through stone. Grass thickened into writhing waves, and vines coiled around shattered debris like serpents.
Imperial had already begun walking away, his steps slow, lightning fading. But he stopped. He glanced back over his shoulder.
The Empress floated above the newborn forest, her wounds glowing with an emerald light as they knit shut. A radiant green aura pulsed from her, flooding the trees, the ground, the very air with life.
Her voice rang out, steady and commanding:
"Grass Zone: Forest of Anything."
The forest obeyed.
Branches twisted into spears. Roots tore upward like whips. Blades of grass sharpened into daggers, hurling themselves at Imperial from every direction. The entire zone itself had become her weapon.
But Imperial's expression didn't waver. His eyes narrowed. Lightning hummed faintly across his body.
Then—he moved.
A flash.
Each strike missed, crashing into the ground, detonating in massive bursts of splintered wood and stone. The forest roared, unrelenting, but Imperial weaved through it all—dodging with such precision it seemed the storm of attacks curved away from him. Every time an attack fell, he was already gone, a blur too fast for the eye to follow.
The Empress's focus sharpened, pouring more magic into the zone. Yet in that moment, her chest tightened. A shiver ran down her spine.
She realized—he was gone from her sight.
When her eyes widened in panic, it was already too late.
Imperial was there. One step away. Close enough to feel the crackle of his lightning in the air.
A sharp sting brushed against her throat. For a fleeting instant, the world slowed. Her vision tilted. The ground rose up to meet her.
She saw her own body fall.
From the head's point of view, the last thing she witnessed was Imperial, standing calmly, unsheathing Raiktsu. The black lightning blade gleamed, humming with power, faint arcs of violet sparking along its edge.
Then—darkness.
On the other side of the battlefield, Ari and the others clashed with Emperor Draven.
Tracey roared, flames bursting from his beast form as he hurled blazing fireballs toward the Emperor. The air shimmered with heat, each shot detonating like falling meteors. At the same time, streams of molten mercury rose around Draven, snaking like liquid chains, ready to bind him.
Dawn followed up, slamming her staff into the ground. Water surged upward, twisting into the colossal form of a sea dragon. With a roar, the beast lunged, its jaws snapping down toward Draven.
But the Emperor raised a single hand. A ripple of overwhelming force spread outward—his magic nullifying wave. In an instant, the fireballs fizzled, the mercury shattered into droplets, and the sea dragon collapsed into harmless water.
Draven's cold eyes glinted. "Is that all?"
A streak of white light cut across his vision. Ari was already in motion, her blade glowing with overwhelming brilliance.
"Eternal Blade!"