The continent was silent, but the silence wasn't natural. Every step Rayon took on the hardened soil of the Vessels' Continent felt like a countdown, a subtle tension vibrating through the air that spoke of power and anticipation. The trees here were enormous, centuries old, and their leaves trembled slightly, as if sensing the predator moving among them. Vorthalaxis still coiled lightly around Rayon's arm, sensing something wrong even before Rayon did.
Then he saw it.
In a clearing ahead, sunlight caught on black scales that glinted like shattered glass. Nexus—the black dragon, his mark-bearer, his companion—was chained to a massive, jagged stake that had been driven into the earth. Spears protruded from her sides, and the sharp tips glistened with a dark liquid. She thrashed weakly, smoke curling from her nostrils in small, angry puffs. Her tail lashed, tearing the earth beneath her, but the chains held fast.
Rayon's eyes narrowed.
"She's… restrained?" Erethon's voice was clipped, the sarcasm gone, replaced by genuine concern.
"She's theirs," Rayon said coldly. "And they'll regret it."
From the shadows, the group of Awakeners emerged. Ten figures, all tall and athletic, with eyes that reflected malice and experience. Each wielded a different power—a pyrokinetic flaring flames that twisted through the air; a telekinetic who could crush trees as easily as bones; one whose aura could freeze the blood in a man's veins; another who moved so fast he appeared in multiple places at once; and others, subtle, insidious, perfect masters of the dark arts that blended combat with overwhelming destructive precision. They were trained to hunt, kill, and capture beings far stronger than ordinary humans—but they were about to learn what the Black Primordial truly meant.
Rayon didn't hesitate. Black Resonance rippled from him like a living wave, warping the air around him, shadows stretching and twisting to form tendrils that lashed at the Awakeners. The ground cracked beneath his steps as he moved, faster than the human eye could follow. Spears and spells collided with the resonance, shattering on impact.
The fight was instantaneous. Rayon's fists were a blur, connecting with precision strikes to necks, ribs, and joints, disabling the Awakeners with surgical efficiency. Vorthalaxis lunged, tail sweeping through the air like a whip, smashing several attackers into the forest's edge. By the time the dust settled, most of the Awakeners were either unconscious or dismembered, their arrogance replaced by a painful understanding of power.
Rayon walked to Nexus, kneeling beside her. The dragon's humanoid form shimmered briefly, healing rapidly as her body adapted to her new form. But the poison in the spears lingered, sizzling beneath her scales, refusing to be flushed naturally.
Rayon's hands glowed black with the energy of Black Resonance. He pressed his palms to her chest, and the essence of the seven seals he had integrated pulsed into her, neutralizing the poison, knitting torn muscle, and stabilizing her heartbeat. Her eyes, still golden, locked onto his.
"Who did this?" Rayon asked, voice low and lethal.
A shadow moved behind the trees, slow and deliberate. Rayon's senses flared, detecting it before the figure fully emerged. A tall man stepped into the clearing, his face partially hidden under a scar that ran from temple to jaw, his eyes burning with arrogance. His build was athletic, movements controlled, and his aura carried the weight of a Primordial vessel—someone born and trained to contend with gods.
"I've been waiting," the man said, his voice smooth and menacing, curling like smoke. "The dragon you call yours… her heart is mine."
Erethon hovered, his expression unusually sharp. "That's… bold, even for a vessel."
Rayon's expression darkened. "I don't share."
The man smiled, a cruel curl of lips. "Then you'll die."
The attack began. Rayon moved first, his body a silhouette of fluid motion. Every strike, every kick, every sweep of his arm was calculated, a dance of martial artistry fused with the power of Black Resonance. He weaved around the man's attacks, dodging strikes that could have cleaved mountains, countering blows with precision. The vessel's own martial skill was extraordinary—he moved like a coiled spring, each strike designed to anticipate and disrupt.
The first exchange ended with Rayon standing in a cloud of disturbed dust, his hair brushing against the sweat glistening on his forehead, the other man balancing on a tree root as if gravity had nothing on him. Their eyes met, and the smile didn't leave the vessel's face.
"You're fast," he admitted. "But not fast enough."
Rayon didn't reply. Instead, he lunged, movements overlapping as if multiple versions of himself were attacking simultaneously. The vessel matched him blow for blow, their hands meeting with explosive energy, creating shockwaves that shattered the forest floor. Spears embedded in the trees and rocks from the Awakeners' earlier attack quivered from the residual force.
The combat sped up, near instantaneous, each movement so precise it felt premeditated yet perfectly chaotic. Rayon's kicks twisted in angles no human joint should allow, his strikes infused with resonance that bent the very air around him. The vessel countered with a seamless blend of speed, technique, and raw power, every move a test of skill and resilience.
"Not bad," the man said, catching Rayon's wrist mid-strike and twisting with a vicious grin. "But let's see how long you last."
Rayon responded with a flicker of movement, Black Resonance tearing through the air in tendrils that laced around the vessel's legs and torso, constricting, testing, gauging. He didn't want to kill him—not yet—but he wanted to feel the limits, map the strength.
"You'll regret ever touching her," Rayon muttered, voice calm but saturated with menace.
The two circled each other, near-instantaneous strikes flashing like lightning bolts. The ground beneath them became a fractured, scarred landscape of battle. Trees shattered, earth split, and the air crackled with energy. Every time Rayon's Black Resonance touched the vessel, it reacted, a subtle adaptation—a reflection of the vessel's own training to contain and redirect power.
The fight had no winner yet. They moved faster than thought, faster than sight. Every strike, every block, every pivot was a conversation, a story of two forces unwilling to yield. Their martial choreography was brutal, precise, and almost… intimate in the way deadly warriors danced around each other.
Rayon felt his pulse, the thrill of combat matching the rhythm of the Black Resonance, while Nexus watched from the background, recovering and furious, her eyes fixed on the man who dared strike her. Erethon's voice cut softly into Rayon's mind.
"Careful, Little Monarch. He's strong… older than most vessels you've met. But he doesn't have your control."
Rayon smirked faintly, almost imperceptibly. "I like that."
The two combatants launched at each other again, fists and legs colliding, strikes so fast the wind screamed, sparks flying, the forest floor fracturing under the weight of their blows. They were evenly matched in skill, but Rayon's adaptation, full potential, and resonance gave him the edge. Yet the fight had just begun—neither had truly opened their full strength, and both were calculating, dancing along the edge of fatality.
As they clashed again, hands moving in a blur of martial perfection, the scene froze in the tension of anticipation—the forest, the continent, the very air holding its breath.
This was only the beginning.