The arena was gone.
Minwoo stood in a void—no sky, no ground, just a circle of cracked stone floating in darkness. The final match wasn't held in the Citadel. It was held in the Threshold, a pocket realm reserved for battles that could break reality.
Kinro watched from the edge, his human form flickering. His voice was low, ancient.
Minwoo stepped forward.
The air split.
A figure emerged—tall, faceless, wrapped in flame and bone. Its aura bent the space around it. No name. No guild. Just a symbol etched into its chest:
The Sovereign Below.
The Battle Begins
It didn't speak.
It didn't need to.
Minwoo drew the Nexus Blade. The shadows surged. The Sovereign responded with fire—not elemental, but memory flame, burning through timelines, scorching versions of Minwoo that never existed.
Minwoo saw himself:
• Kneeling before a throne.
• Consumed by rage.
• Dead in the 13th Ward.
He roared and struck.
The blade clashed with flame. The void trembled. Each blow shattered illusions, each dodge rewrote fate.
Kinro watched, eyes glowing gold.
The Break
The Sovereign Below raised its hand.
Reality cracked.
Minwoo dropped to one knee, blood dripping from his mouth. The Nexus Blade flickered.
Then he remembered.
Saejin's voice.
He stood.
Shadow exploded from his body, wrapping the blade, his limbs, his soul.
He charged.
One final strike.
The Sovereign Below screamed—not in pain, but in recognition.
The blade pierced its chest.
The symbol shattered.
Aftermath
Minwoo stood alone.
The void collapsed.
He returned to the Citadel, cloak torn, blade dim, eyes burning.
The bracket board was gone.
The crowd was silent.
Kinro approached, his dragon form flickering beneath his skin.
Minwoo looked up.
then let change the world