Kardok let out a low snarl, his voice ringing with a metallic resonance that scraped the air.

Then the last trace of restraint vanished from his face, drowned beneath a flood of killing intent.

He raised both arms.

The black-gold armor gleamed coldly under the fractured light, and rings of energy pulsed outward from his feet, rippling across the ground.

"You filthy insects," he roared, voice rising like a blade through thunder.

BOOM—

Before the words had even finished leaving his mouth, the sky split open behind him.

A colossal shadow rose from the rift—slow, deliberate, and suffocating.

This wasn't some illusion.

It was a hybrid colossus, a monstrous fusion of bloodlines: dragon scales, demonic wings, the skeletal remains of an angel. Six bloodlines twisted together into a spine of horror, each vertebra pulsing with raw, ancient power.

As the phantom fully unfurled, the entire twentieth layer began to warp.

The air cracked like shattering glass.

A wave of energy surged from Kardok's body—so vast, so violent, it felt like it could tear the world in half.

The ground split open beneath him.

Stone crumbled to dust.

And yet, in the eye of that storm, one figure remained unmoved.

Ethan.

He stood at the edge of light and shadow, cloak whipping in the wind, eyes calm—eerily calm.

He exhaled, slow and steady.

Then—

He stepped forward.

With that single step, the air around him reversed direction. Currents twisted inward, light itself bending toward him, drawn into his core.

If you looked closely, you'd see it—two faint wisps rising from his shoulders, one gold, one silver. They shimmered like miniature galaxies, winding through his veins, spiraling down into his chest.

HUMMM—

The air collapsed.

Ethan lifted his head.

In that instant, his aura changed completely.

The gentle, measured energy that had always surrounded him was gone—devoured by something wild, something pure and unrelenting.

Gold and black light exploded from within him, swirling together in a violent bloom. It surged upward, coalescing into a massive sphere of energy that hovered in the sky like a second sun.

Kardok's eyes flew wide.

"This… this can't be!"

He could feel it—feel that power closing in.

"Tier 22… mid-stage?!"

He almost couldn't trust his own senses.

The arrogance in his stance faltered. His body began to tremble—not from fear, but from the sheer pressure crushing down on him.

His bones cracked, one by one.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

The sound of a god snapping his spine.

Ethan watched him in silence.

No anger in his gaze.

No pity, either.

Only cold detachment.

His voice was quiet, but it cut through the storm like a blade.

"Your power is strong," he said.

"But not strong enough."

Kardok stared at him, disbelief twisting his face. "Impossible… You're nothing but a worm, crawling in the dirt. How could you possibly wield such power—Fairy God and Dragon God power, no less!"

To his credit, the bastard was sharp. In the blink of an eye, he'd pinpointed the source of Ethan's energy.

The air still trembled, thick with pressure.

Ethan lifted his hand slightly. Light pulsed in his palm, veins of energy flickering beneath the skin.

The pressure surged again—an invisible wall slamming outward.

Kardok's body buckled under it.

BOOM—

Even the sky groaned and cracked.

Kardok dropped to his knees, the impact shaking the ground. Blood spilled from his mouth in thick streams. His breath came in ragged gasps, chest heaving like it was pinned beneath a mountain.

"W–Wait…!" he choked, coughing up more blood. "I surrender! I'll serve you! I can take you to the higher levels of Sky Citadel—please, spare me!"

His voice trembled in the wind, raw and desperate. And it wasn't a bluff. The fear in his eyes was real.

Ethan blinked, just once.

He hadn't expected this—a Tier 22 lord, a name that once made entire realms tremble, now groveling at his feet.

For a moment, silence reigned.

The air was thick with fire, ash, and the copper tang of blood. Even the sky seemed to hold its breath.

Then Ethan smiled.

There was no warmth in it.

Light flared in his hand, coalescing into a sword of pure energy. The blade shimmered as it cut through the air—then through Kardok's chest.

Shhk—

Blood burst into mist, scattering in the wind.

Ethan spoke softly, almost gently.

"You're not worthy."

The words were quiet, but they landed like a death sentence—cold, final, absolute.

Kardok collapsed, his massive frame hitting the ground with a dull thud. Only the faintest flicker of life remained.

Ethan didn't spare him another glance.

He simply raised his hand.

"Finish it."

The Emerald Castle army surged forward.

Lightblades and hellfire tore into the broken body, ripping it apart piece by piece. The energy backlash rolled across the battlefield like a tide.

From the shredded remains, countless motes of light rose into the air—like fragments of a shattered soul. They drifted upward, then rained down into the bodies of the Emerald Castle soldiers.

Power flooded through them.

Their auras flared, levels spiking in an instant.

But the cost was brutal.

The battlefield was littered with scorched armor and shattered wings. Fairy corpses drifted slowly through the air, their wings torn and trailing blood. The roars of fallen dragons echoed like ghosts, fading into silence.

Ethan stood above it all, watching.

His expression didn't change.

He just let out a long breath.

"That's enough," he said quietly. "We move."

He knew.

This fusion of power—Auri and Idra's divine energy—wasn't limitless. It was already ebbing, like a tide pulling back from shore.

And when it was gone, when the last drop drained from his veins, he'd be mortal again.

Sky Citadel wouldn't miss that chance.

He couldn't stop.

So, through fire and ash, Ethan raised the Scepter.

"Level Twenty-One."

The next gate of light opened, slow and solemn.

Shadows and radiance surged together, forming a new tide.

Ethan stepped forward, leading his battered army into the next battlefield.

...

Level Twenty-One.

This world was no longer bright like the skies above.

Beneath Ethan's feet stretched an endless desert of gold sand. The wind howled, hot and dry, whipping up golden dust storms that clawed at the horizon. Overhead, the sky was a sickly gray—no clouds, no sun, no light. Just a dead, oppressive dome.

This… was the twenty-first layer of Sky Citadel?

Ethan frowned.

It felt less like a battlefield and more like a place of exile.

The sand beneath his boots burned like live coals. The air reeked of sulfur and blood, and every breath scorched his lungs like fire.

He scanned the horizon.

Nothing but silence and wind.

But the power—he could feel it. It pulsed from the heart of the desert, thick enough to see, like heat waves made of blood and light. Each pulse made the air shudder.

Behind him, the army held back.

They could feel it too.

Something was buried out there—something that didn't belong in this world.

But Ethan didn't stop.

He drew a breath, then vanished in a flicker of light, stepping alone into the heart of the sand sea.

The wind slammed into him, searing and relentless. His boots sank into the shifting dunes, each step leaving behind molten trails of gold.

He followed the pull of that power to a sun-bleached dune, its surface so bright it looked like bone.

He raised a hand and swept it forward.

Sand exploded into the air.

And then—

A divine pressure surged from beneath the earth, thick and suffocating.

BOOM.

The desert erupted.

A massive white creature burst from the ground, its body long and smooth, wrapped in a translucent membrane that shimmered with a holy glow under the dead sky.

Ethan froze.

That aura—it was almost angelic.

But then his eyes narrowed.

Beneath that "purity" was something older. Something wrong.

A taint.

Like light that had been twisted, corrupted.

"A disguise?" he muttered.

The creature seemed to understand.

It lifted its head and let out a low, vibrating cry. Its body convulsed violently.

Crack—

A wet, tearing sound split the air.

Its outer skin dried and split open, peeling away in layers.

And from within…

Arms.

One. Then another. Then another.

A grotesque creature clawed its way out of the white husk—three heads, six arms, six legs. Its body shimmered with a warped red-gold light, each breath sending tremors through the sand.

Its eyes glowed a deep, hungry crimson as it fixed its gaze on Ethan.

"Your power… smells delicious."

The voice came from all three mouths at once—low, rasping, and trembling with glee.

"If I devour you, I'll ascend to the next tier!"

Ethan's eyes narrowed.

His blood stirred.

He could feel it—this thing's power was nearly equal to his own.

Tier 22, mid-stage.

He slowly raised his hand.

The light in his palm darkened, shifting to a deep, blood-red hue.

The Bloodfiend power within him surged awake, roaring through his veins.

A tide of blood mist erupted around him, swirling and snarling, then rising into the air to form a massive crimson net.

Ethan's voice cut through the storm—low, steady, unshakable.

"You're just a worm that crawled into the wrong place."

"You stepped into my path—"

"So now, I'll show you what real power looks like."

...