The Khaos Wyrm, seeing the ship crippled and the Royal Rankers exhausted, coiled for the final strike. Its jaws widened again, preparing a blast even larger than the last, a wave of violet energy that promised extinction.
Ector, bruised and breathless, looked frantically toward the only figure who hadn't moved: Vincent Motsari. Vincent stood completely still, his hand resting on the hilt of the Nimbus Blade on the table, observing the Wyrm with an unnerving detachment, as if watching a mildly irritating insect.
"A True Divine Ranker," Vincent murmured, finally lifting his gaze from the blade to the Wyrm.
"Even a full-grown one. An amusing diversion."
The Wyrm released the massive, pulsating wave of violet energy. It was instantaneous this time, too fast for Dior, Rickert, or Madam Diva to even raise a defense.
In that single, fatal moment, Vincent moved. He didn't pull the Nimbus Blade. He simply closed his eyes.
A deep, chilling darkness erupted from him—not black like shadow, but a profound, absolute void that seemed to swallow light, color, and sound. This was not affinity; this was a conceptual presence. This was the raw power of his Core of the Abyss.
The darkness surged outward, reaching the colossal, incoming wave of violet energy from the Wyrm. The moment the two powers touched, the violet energy didn't explode, freeze, or scatter. It simply ceased to exist. It didn't disperse; it was Unmade.
The Wyrm's attack vanished as if it had never been fired, leaving a perfect, clean hole of emptiness where the devastating blast had been.
The profound void emanating from Vincent continued to spread, not aggressively, but with an absolute, undeniable finality. It enveloped the Wyrm's massive head. The serpent didn't roar or thrash; it experienced something far worse: END.
Its scales began to fade, its crystalline horns turned to ash, and the Wyrm, hundreds of feet of devastating Divine power, was erased from reality, shrinking into nothingness before it could even register pain or fear. Within three seconds, the Khaos Wyrm of the Void was gone, leaving only the sight of the untouched blue sky where it had been.
Vincent Motsari opened his eyes. The darkness receded instantly, leaving the air clear and the ocean calm, as if the battle had been a shared hallucination. The Nimbus Blade still sat on the table.
He looked over the destroyed deck, the exhausted, staring Royal Rankers, and the wide-eyed Ector.
"I told you, Prince Ector," Vincent said, his voice calm and level, though his breath plumed faintly.
"You need protection. Not from the beast, but from the collateral damage." He gestured to the empty air where the Wyrm had just been.
"And that... was merely a conceptual defense of my person."
The sudden, absolute silence was more deafening than the Wyrm's roar. The space where the massive Khaos Wyrm had existed was now only clear sky and distant ocean.
Dior slowly lowered his rapier, the deep blue of his affinity fading. Rickert rubbed his temples, a gesture of profound exhaustion, his elegant demeanor momentarily replaced by a deep weariness.
Seraphina pushed herself up from the deck, the lines of frost melting from her face, her breathing slowing to normal. They glanced at Vincent Motsari, a silent acknowledgement passing between them that confirmed their prior knowledge. They were drained from a battle that nearly killed them; Vincent had merely closed his eyes.
Ector, however, was paralyzed. He remained slumped against the wall, the scent of melted metal and ozone filling his nostrils, but it was the unreality of Vincent's power that truly choked him.
He was a prince, a Soldier Ranker, trained since birth in the laws of affinity and strength: power could be countered, shields could be breached, and strength had limits. But what Vincent did was not strength; it was an absolute violation of physics and conceptual reality.
"Unmade..." Ector whispered, his eyes wide and unfocused. He had seen the Wyrm, a True Divine Ranker's opponent, simply erased.
He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side, and stared at Vincent Motsari. His fear of the Wyrm was instantly replaced by a stark, chilling terror of the man before him.
"What was that?" Ector demanded, his voice thin, pointing a trembling finger at the empty air.
"That thing—it was beyond them, beyond all three of them! And you... you just stopped it. That wasn't a defense skill. That wasn't an affinity."
Vincent Motsari picked up a splinter of wood from the shattered deck, examining it with mild interest before tossing it overboard.
"You are correct, Prince Ector," Vincent said, turning fully toward him, the intensity of his dark eyes making Ector involuntarily take a step back.
"It was not affinity. It was a conceptual manifestation of my core, the Core of the Abyss. The Wyrm represented Existence and Power. My Core represents the End of those concepts."
He finally lifted the Nimbus Blade from the table, not drawing it, but holding the scabbard in his hand.
"The Nimbus Blade requires a conceptual core to wield it safely. A core that can contain what it seeks," Vincent continued, his voice dropping slightly.
"Your purpose here, Prince, is not to fight. It is to comprehend the power that will be used in your name." Vincent sighed.
"The End is always faster than the beginning."