"AAARRRGH!" Guissepo was blasted away. It was miracle that he had managed to make it out with only a chunk of his ribs torn off. The same wasn't true for the Drakkens he had allied with to defend Cogent Stark Order, though. Once he'd made known that the safety of Pherdanta's Territory was threatened, the Drakkens – being semi-autonomous beings – had rushed to help him.

Unfortunately, all of them had paid dearly for it.

Their bodies, partially overlapped because of the number of enemies involved in the conflict, were easily blown through by an outrageous attack from a pissed off General of Boron. One of the Drakkens had lost its head, and the others spotted great, ovular orifices on their torsos from which mana began to flake out, deconstructing them slowly. The bizarre attack responsible for this had tracked through all these creatures before bashing into Pherdanta's Territory and causing it to collapse.

"Fools," said the short, ugly General responsible for the projectile attack. Ashema, who was above him was laughing wildly.

With Cogent Stark Order gone, all the conflicts going on inside it were revealed.

Things weren't going so well for the Anti-Masked Man squad.

The Five House Heads, the general Aigas combatants and the accompanying Stark Troops couldn't seem to put down Nigerra. The woman was particularly fierce in a fight. She was a Form User of unmatched proportions. Many of her opponents had already died twice or thrice over after barely seeing her pass by them. They had only been spared because of Pherdanta's Territory.

Now that it was gone, not only did everyone begin to free fall into the wide-open space where the ocean had been, but also…

"GET BACK!" Gerriey cried aloud, but it was too late.

Nigerra's Eyes of Moving locked in on every single combatant around her and planted downward facing arrows on all of them. These arrows channelled all kinetic energy the victims produced downwards, hence restricting them from moving in the way they desired.

Nigerra's eyes, livid with bloodlust, scanned her army of enemies. She disregarded the Stark Troops for the moment because of their armour had strange defences which she couldn't get through. Everyone else was free game, though.

A lazy figure, like a shadow, or better yet, an audio spectrum given human shape was inching out of her body. Its dreary ebony colour and the vibration it produced were in conflict; it was unclear whether this entity represented something sinister or something vibrant.

Yuyui would have known what this was called if she were here.

The Aspiring Immortal Shadow.

It was what the original power system for Aigas was meant to reward Beyond the Veil Stagers with. It was a key the Deities of Aigas gave to their mortal creations, a hint to unlocking Divinity. Or rather, it was supposed to be.

The Aspiring Immortal Shadow, mostly bonded to Nigerra like a physical deformity, pointed at the enemies…. And one by one, arrows began appearing over their heads channelling horrific kinetic energy charges that turned them into bloody pancakes!

All the miscellaneous combatants were wiped out in an instant, their faces filled with dread.

…And then it was Agnees Kudobtu's turn.

Then Rudus Morde.

Then Braxten Shannazah.

"NO!" Shura Desmonn cried.

Illyinni Wolverik was too frightened to call out. She could only accept her fate.

There was no coming back from this. Not without Pherdanta's paradise of a Territory. It was the reason any of the Heads had been able to compete with Nigerra in physical attributes at all and why any of them hadn't feared fighting such an advanced combatant head-on.

Gerriey didn't give in to despair, though. She fought back, along with the other Stark Troops right then. It didn't matter that Pherdanta's Territory had been dispelled. The burden of their lives couldn't solely depend on the Commander.

Speaking of Pherdanta, she was in dire straits herself. She could sense everyone dying just a couple hundred meters away, and it ground her tender bits, but she couldn't do anything about it.

While Uyuniya was giving it all her all, clashing with the masked man with mild support from Maxim and Vali, she was immobilised by her own suit of armour. Worse yet, her sword, Dance of the Necrotic Butcher refused to obey her. It released a refined [Great Vein], an invisible slash that cut her neck, then another to slash at her torso, and yet another to cut her legs. The attacks were so precise that they bypassed her armour, which was playing a phenomenal role in keeping her paralysed.

Somehow, the masked man was able to turn powerful artefacts against their users.

'DAMN YOU!' thought Pherdanta while leaking wrath so profound it could almost be seen. Her eyes had turned bloodshot.

It was not a pretty prospect knowing that she would have died to her own sword… if her Infinite Sword Class didn't make her invulnerable to all sword-based attacks. And indeed, this was one of Pherdanta's default abilities. But even then, because her sword and her technique were so powerful, she still took damage.

Even now, she could barely feel the sinew from her neck hanging on, and her legs would give out if she were given the right kind of nudge.

Kintar was in a similar boat, if only a little better.

Her limbs were twisted at gruesome angles within her Granted Star Armament, and she too was rendered incapable of moving or mustering any energy at all. Her fury was many times greater than Pherdanta's, though.

As they fell, she hissed in a breath and turned to Pherdanta.

"Don't tell me you came all the way up here to talk smack and immediately die to your own sword, bitch!" She was as abrasive as ever.

Lucky for her, Pherdanta could sense things she hid beneath the surface. She could detect the burning sorrow inside Kintar.

What greater pain could there be other than being refused the chance to avenge a friend? For Kintar's naturally unstable mind, this was the worst punishment.

She couldn't say it outright. She couldn't admit it, but she wanted Pherdanta's support.

Now, she did anyway.

"If only it were that simple to kill us," said Pherdanta.

That was enough for a response.

A mutual resolve diffused between the two women. If this was their limit, then they didn't have the right to call themselves Skullius Festos Dawn's equals.

Thus, against the impossible, they each worked out their own ways to get rid of their predicaments.

Kintar was the first.

She looked up at the fragmenting bodies of her Drakkens. The powers used to make them was hers. Even if her ability to manipulate mana was sealed… that didn't change the fact that Drakkens were hers.

With an impossible force of will, she drew on one of the Drakkens with its torso blown in. It heeded at once and performed one final act before rapidly disintegrating.

BWOOOOOOOH!

A jet of pure fiery destruction fired from the creature's mouth and struck Kintar point-blank.

The Granted Star Armament she was adorning didn't stand a chance. It quickly melted. While Kintar was also mildly scorched by the attack, she weathered through it. When her armour was gone… she was free.

Pherdanta, on the other hand… was having contest of control with her sword.

'It was stupid of me to think I had already conquered this sword. I knew it had a consciousness, and no doubt I won its allegiance, but I never even thought about it having a soul and what that I entailed. Does this mark me as a bad leader? A bad swordswoman?' she thought.

It didn't matter.

Pherdanta had a good idea about how to seize control of her sword, but she didn't get to use it as quickly as she would have liked.

After all…

"Majestic Territory Expulsion…!" Nigerra called out from above them, her hands locked together!