The realm stood still.
The skies were bleeding. The laws of the world trembled.
Zhel-vorah — no longer man, god, or myth — had ascended into something far worse. Bathed in the corrupted essence of Solmiras, his body now radiated a brilliance that devoured light and a shadow that consumed darkness. The very air bent and cracked in his presence.
Where he walked, the ground aged a thousand years. Where he gazed, galaxies folded into dust.
A flick of his finger disintegrated armies. A mere breath crumbled the wills of lesser gods.
None could stand before him.
Not Velka, not Lia, not Nyreth or Not the Monarchs, nor the Paragons of Flame.
They had tried — and they had failed.
And now, it was Jin who stood before him.
Breathing heavy. Wounds torn. Blood trailing down his lip. But his eyes… they still burned.
Zhel-vorah hovered in silence before him, his gaze like a million voices screaming in harmony.
Without warning — he vanished.
Jin's eyes widened.
In an instant, Zhel-vorah appeared directly in front of him — and seized him by the throat.
The world halted.
"You," Zhel-vorah whispered, his voice echoing like shattering crystal. "You alone… still look at me without fear."
Jin clenched his teeth, and with a final surge, he summoned it — the hidden power, the one he was never supposed to use.
The Crown of Endless Contradiction.
The power born from the death of reason, forged in the void where cause and effect collapsed.
It rose above his brow — a crown of twisted light and inverted shadows. Time warped. Space bent. The rules of existence trembled and turned against themselves.
The concept of logic shattered. Fire burned without fuel. Gravity collapsed upward. Even Zhel-vorah's divine structure warped — his immortality turned mortal for a breath.
The Crown's voice echoed:
"Under this Crown, no truth remains. Consistency dies. Even eternity must contradict itself."
For a moment — just a moment — Zhel-vorah staggered. His form flickered between possibilities.
Then… he laughed.
And crushed the contradiction with a single thought.
"You think contradiction can undo me?" he whispered, tightening his grip around Jin's neck. "I am not bound by rules, Jin. I am their extinction."
Jin's body was flung like a meteor, cracking mountains in his wake. But he stood again, defiant.
Summoning all his remaining strength, he called forth his deepest force—
True Chaos.
The primal force of rebellion. The storm that birthed realms and destroyed divinity. The endless sea of rejection and freedom surged around him in spirals of black-gold flame.
But Zhel-vorah simply smiled — and absorbed it.
''You think your True Chaos can harm me. But it can't because I am the source of your True Chaos. Chaos and Abyss both are my creation. But I hid this from everyone."
In a blink, he snapped and tore True Chaos from Jin's soul, draining it like lifeblood. Jin screamed, staggering backward as his essence was ripped away. Now Zhel-vorah was slowly approaching him.
"Your powers are insane and more powerful than mine but despite all this power, you can't control it. You are unworthy of this powers," Zhel-vorah said coldly.
" But more importantly I want your every powers and even Chrono Tyranny — This power has enough potential that can rival Throne or Transcend the Throne if you master this power. Now__Just give it to your honourable father."
He reached and grabbed him again, trying to devour it — but something resisted.
Zhel-vorah's expression faltered.
"What…?"
Though Jin had lost nearly everything — Zhel-vorah couldn't absorb three powers:
Jest Requiem, born from mockery of fate itself.
First Whisper, the first original breath after creation.
And most important… Chrono Tyranny — time's rebellion given form.
"Why can't I consume it…?" Zhel-vorah hissed. "This… shouldn't be."
Jin fell to his knees. Powerless. Surrounded by silence.
Everyone tried to move — but Zhel-vorah's presence pinned them like insects under a blade.
They could only watch.
Even the gods knelt. Now Zhel-vorah summoned his large sword. And when he was about to kill him suddenly everyone felt a more powerful presence. Zhel-vorah roared.
And then—
The sky cracked.
A black fracture split the heavens, glowing with fire and stillness, like the eye of an ancient beast waking from slumber.
A figure descended — shrouded in a flowing black robe. His hair was obsidian, floating like dark flames. Fire coiled gently around his form, not as a weapon, but as if the world itself burned in deference.
He touched the ground without a sound.
Then—
Snap.
Zhel-vorah was flung backward — hurled through reality itself. He crashed into the distant cliffs with a thunder that tore the realm apart.
Jin blinked, coughing blood.
The figure approached him, slow and calm, and offered a hand.
"Are you all right, Master?" he said softly.
Jin froze.
"…No. It can't be—"
Velka gasped. "I know that voice…"
Jun's breath caught.
"…Steve?"
The man smiled faintly.
"Steve Luneblood."
His successor, His honorable student and son.
He helped Jin to his feet as silence swallowed the battlefield.
Zhel-vorah rose from the rubble, screaming. "YOU—!"
He charged.
But stopped.
Suddenly, he shrieked — clutching his head in agony.
His divine veins pulsed violently. Flames erupted from his skin. Blood — black, divine, and corrosive — spilled from his eyes.
His body was breaking.
Steve stood unmoving. "You stole Solmiras' final soul — a Requiem never meant to be wielded. It's tearing you apart from the inside."
Zhel-vorah's mouth opened in horror. "No… No!!"
He had no choice.
Opening a rift with a single motion, Zhel-vorah escaped — vanishing into the void.
But before he left, he spoke, his voice like the toll of a broken bell:
"I will return. And when I do… Silver City will fall. All realms shall end."
The rift sealed.
And the silence that followed was heavier than any war.
But for the first time… in the ruins of the divine battlefield…
Hope stood upright.
And his name was Steve Luneblood.