The sky had turned black—not from nightfall, but from the sheer force of energy tearing through the clouds.
Kael stood, barely upright, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Across from him, the God Beast's body glowed with unnatural intensity, its green-marked flesh pulsing with chaotic power. The ground between them cracked, chunks of earth floating midair as pressure built to a terrifying peak.
Then—both moved.
In a flash.
No hesitation. No fear. Just fury and will.
Kael blurred forward, light from his Last Will erupting around him like a storm of stars. In his hand, his blade shimmered—no longer just steel, but pure condensed energy. The same kind that once destroyed corrupted titans during the early Fracture Wars.
The God Beast did the same—its own weapon manifesting not by tool, but from within: a jagged, crystallized energy blade that extended from its arm like a cursed fang. It roared, matching Kael's speed, its form turning into a blur of pale-green fire and muscle.
They collided.
Both blades struck—directly into each other's chest.
The impact was cataclysmic.
A shockwave exploded from the center, rippling for miles. Trees bent and shattered. Mountains groaned. The battlefield turned into a crater.
Kael's eyes widened as pain ripped through his chest. His blade dug halfway into the beast's core—but he felt the creature's own strike plunge deep into his ribs in return. Blood burst from his mouth. The beast's screech echoed as it too faltered, its knees shaking.
For a moment, both stood—locked in place.
Then, their weapons shattered.
Both bodies were hurled backward, spiraling through the air and crashing into the ground with thunderous force. Dust and debris blanketed the field, silence falling like a heavy curtain.
Kael coughed blood, unmoving.
The God Beast lay sprawled, twitching, its chest heaving.
Neither was dead… but both were down.
And in that moment, the heavens themselves seemed to hold their breath.
Because no one—not even gods—could predict who would rise first.