CHAPTER 361: PEACE

[Arkas’s PoV]

I deflected a blow with my trident, sparks flying as the enemy Grandmaster’s blade scraped along its edge. We’d been locked in a brutal exchange for a while now—me, Pedro, and one more of our side holding off two from the Holts. The sky cracked with power above us, but I could feel something shift.

Something bigger.

I turned slightly, mid-parry, just in time to see him.....Billion.

He was rising slowly above the battlefield, wings outstretched, body glowing with pure lightning. It wrapped him like a storm given shape. His hair was wild, charged with power, and his eyes, those sharp, focused eyes, were locked on the world below.

He raised both arms. Two thunder hammers formed in his hands, swirling with violet electricity, pulsing with Essence. The moment they appeared, the air grew heavier. Even the Grandmasters near me paused.

And the kid didn’t stop there.

He brought the hammers together, fused them into one and poured more power in. I felt the Essence shake, space itself ripple in response. Above him, clouds twisted in fear. The hammer grew. One hundred meters. Two hundred. Three. The thing was massive, vibrating with energy, larger than anything I’d ever seen used like that by someone who hadn’t lived for even twenty years.

And yet there he was, just a boy to most of us, holding it like it was nothing.

Soldiers on both sides stared upward. I could see their expressions—shock, confusion, terror. Even the Holt Masters had frozen. A few turned and started running.

Then Billion moved.

No exaggerated motion. No expression on face.

He simply swung.

The hammer dropped like a god’s judgment. The air screamed. Thunder rolled out in waves. And then came the impact.

A blinding flash filled the sky. Lightning exploded in every direction. The ground split. The battlefield shook beneath our feet. I heard the screams before they were silenced—then nothing but the roar of destruction. The shockwave raced across the field, throwing dust and bodies into the air. A crater formed instantly, swallowing entire squads.

I had to cover my face with my arm just to keep my eyes open.

When the light faded, there was only silence.

The hammer was gone. The battlefield below? A smoking ruin. Thousands of enemies had been wiped out in that one swing.

Pedro hovered beside me, shaking his head.

"That boy," he muttered, "is something else."

I didn’t speak right away. I was still watching Billion. He hadn’t moved after the strike. Just floating, lightning still humming softly around him like it didn’t want to let go.

"He’s not a boy anymore," I said finally. "He’s an executioner."

The Holt Grandmaster across from me had lost the will to fight. He looked down, then I saw the light dim in his eyes.

[Random Holt Soldier PoV]

I was just a soldier in the Holt ranks. Not a Master, not anything special. I’d trained hard for years to fight with a blade, learn simple skills enough to stand my ground. I never wanted to die in a war, but I knew the risk.

This, the battlefield we were on, was nothing like I expected. We were in an open clearing on the edge of a ruined base. Stones were cracked, fires still burned in broken walls, and the ground was littered with bodies.

Around me, my comrades, strong men who trained beside me, were pressing forward, shouting battle cries, face set with grim lines. I joined them, shield raised, eyes on the enemies ahead.

The Empire Grandmaster stood strong. Blue flame, ice spikes, lightning bursts, they sent wave after wave of power toward us.

Our formation shook. I dropped my shield and fought back with a wave of earth shards, but it felt useless against their barrage. Bodies began to fall on both sides. I lost track of how many I killed. I tried not to think about it.

And then, out of nowhere, came something that wasn’t in any training or story I’d heard.

It started as a bright crack in the sky, almost too fast to see. A flash of violet lightning streaked overhead. At first I thought a bolt from the clouds had fallen but then I realized it wasn’t from above. It was from ground level, traveling low and fast like... like a blade.

It sliced through our lines. I heard screams in one instant. Then there were bodies on the ground with holes blown clean through their chest or back. No fire, no blood. Just empty space where flesh and armor had been.

"Look out!" Zuri yelled beside me.

I swung my sword blindly. Nothing there. My heart pounded. I tried to shout to Rolan but my mouth went dry.

We all froze.

And it kept going.

Another streak of lightning then more screams. Men fell in clusters. I stumbled backward, shield up, but my arm trembled too much to raise it.

A crack of thunder rattled the air. Another streak. This time it passed right in front of my eyes, inches from my face, hot and crackling.

I was blasted away from sheer force.

The world blurred around me—dust, smoke, light. I heard a voice yelling "Form ranks!" but I’d lost the sound’s meaning. I could only see that streak, and feel the fear.

Then the sky went even darker. The clouds billowed overhead, like the world had swallowed the sun.

I looked up.

And saw him.

He floated hundreds of feet above the ground, wings spread wide like a fallen angel. His body was pure lightning, white-blue veins moving over his skin. His hair stood on end, glowing. Even at the height, I felt the static, the heat.

He held two hammers. At first, they were normal, lightning-wrapped weapons. Then he lifted them together over his head, and I saw them begin to merge.

A voice inside me said: Run.

But I was too mesmerised. The hammer began to grow.

One hundred feet. Then two hundred. Three hundred.

I fell to my knees.

Around me, the soldiers of our army stopped. Skills froze midair. Shields hovered open. No one moved. The sky seemed to pull itself tighter around that glowing mass of Essence.

Then he moved with grace and swung the hammer.

In an instant, that thunder hammer turned into a storm. White lightning shot out of it. It glowed brighter than the sun. The shadow it cast onto the ground was bigger than our camp.

I watched it fall.

The world tore at that moment.

The sound was worse than any battle cry. It cracked my chest. The ground rose beneath me, then vanished, and fire and rubble shot up like fountains. The shockwave slammed into my back, threw me forward, and spit me out like a broken doll.

I remember flying—just a moment, spinning through air. My shield fell away. My sword dropped from my hand.

Then I hit the ground.

Hot. Cold. Pain.

My bones rocked in my body. I gasped, trying to breathe. I looked at my hand. It was gone. Charred. Nothing but ash.

I tried to scream. Above me, lightning faded from the air, but the glow of that hammer strike lingered. Fire died. Dust drifted. Silence settled.

I lay there, my eyes wide. The world around me didn’t shake anymore, it had ended.

I moved my head slightly. I saw bodies crumpled in pools of light or black dust.

I felt my life slipping away. No fear, now. Just a cold calm.

My body didn’t move. Couldn’t move. I felt heat in my chest, spreading slowly.

Something was broken. Everything was broken.

I lay flat on the ruined earth, staring up at the sky that no longer held any sun. Just cracks in the clouds where the light tried to peek through. My sword was gone. My arm too, maybe. I couldn’t feel it. My right leg twitched once, then stopped.

I remembered when this war started. I had believed that our masters were stronger, our roots deeper, our legacy unshakable.

But no one mentioned that a boy wrapped in lightning would come crashing down like judgment itself. No one warned us that death would wear the face of something young, unbent, untouched by time.

Everything ended when that hammer fell.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t even pray. I just watched it descend, slower than it should have, like the world wanted us to understand.

The explosion was light. And then silence. My ears never came back.

My men, those who stood with me, were gone. Not fallen, not wounded. Just... gone. Wiped from the earth like chalk from a board.

And me?

I was still here.

Barely.

My body refused to rise. My chest was wet, maybe blood. I coughed once and something thick left my lips.

This was it.

But I wasn’t angry.

He was stronger. That was all. Stronger in ways I couldn’t imagine. Not just power. Presence. Purpose.

Even now, I could feel his Essence moving across the battlefield like a breeze. Sharp. Cold. Final.