As Aetherion and Pallas fought, Aetherion did not hold back.
He gave everything he had—punches, kicks, summoned swords, spears, axes—every weapon at his disposal.
And Pallas answered every attack in kind, meeting him head-on again and again.
When their fists collided, explosions erupted.
When blades cut through the air, space itself trembled.
They moved so fast that no one could properly follow them, darting across the battlefield and dimension Aetherion had created—the Parellel Expansion.
It was truly an astonishing sight.
With a grin on his face, Aetherion watched as Pallas charged forward, throwing a punch aimed straight at his face.
Aetherion leaned back, narrowly dodging it, then kicked upward toward Pallas's chin.
Pallas read the attack instantly, stepping back and dodge the kick, and summoning a spear in his hand, thrusting it toward Aetherion's heart.
But Aetherion left behind an illusion of himself.
The spear pierced straight through the illusion's chest—while Aetherion appeared behind Pallas.
In response, multiple swords and spears materialized around Pallas and shot toward Aetherion.
Using the explosive speed of starlight and moonlight, Aetherion escaped, flashing more than a hundred meters away in an instant.
He paused, watching as Pallas stood there, a grin on his face—calculating.
Aetherion frowned.
He had noticed it now.
Pallas wasn't fighting with brute instinct alone.
Every movement was calculated, every action deliberate—thinking several steps ahead.
It was irritating.
Several times, Pallas had read Aetherion's techniques and countered before the attack had even fully formed.
Aetherion should have been covered in scars by now—but ichor dripped down his body and yet no scars was on him.
They simply vanish moments later, erased by his rapid regeneration.
"He's outclassing me in pure combat…"
Aetherion muttered.
It was frustrating to admit—but true.
The man was the Titan of Combat and Warcraft.
Pallas had landed more hits than Aetherion had.
The only thing keeping Aetherion in the fight was his superior regeneration, fueled by his Life and Nature domains, granting him overwhelming vitality.
Still—it wasn't enough.
"All right," Aetherion said quietly. "Let's use this."
Divine energy surged around him.
Moonlight and starlight wrapped around his body, his form beginning to glow.
[Moon and Star Domain: Light Boost.]
In an instant, his speed skyrocketed.
He vanished.
Pallas's eyes widened as Aetherion appeared directly in front of him at a speed far beyond before.
Reacting on instinct, Pallas thrust his spear forward—but Aetherion was already gone, reappearing at his side.
Pallas moved again, having already predicted the angle.
But then—Aetherion moved and moved and moved.
Until… he was everywhere.
Not clones.
Not illusions.
Afterimages—born purely from speed.
Before Pallas could react, a blow struck the back of his head, sending him hurtling toward the ground.
Aetherion appeared beneath him before he could even crash, kicking him back into the sky.
"What the fuck—?!"
Pallas spat ichor as he was launched again.
Aetherion didn't stop.
He struck again and again, turning Pallas into a projectile—kicking him through the air like a living ball.
Then—something unexpected.
Sharp blades suddenly erupted from Pallas's body.
Aetherion's punch came down—and a dagger pierced straight into his hand.
He hissed and tore it free, glaring.
"Huh. A cheap trick,"
Aetherion muttered.
Pallas, bleeding heavily, grinned up at him.
Aetherion stared at Pallas.
Even though Pallas was bleeding ichor from multiple wounds, he was still grinning like a madman.
"Just give up already, old man," Aetherion said coldly. "I'm going to take you in."
He vanished at the speed of light, his body shining as a storm erupted around him.
Light and nature fused into his fist as he struck.
But instead of dodging, Pallas stepped forward—and caught him.
Aetherion's eyes widened in shock.
"What the—?"
"You are truly strong, boy,"
Pallas finally spoke, his grip tightening around Aetherion's body.
His grin was wild.
"It has been a very long time since I've had this much fun in a fight."
Aetherion slammed a punch into the back of Pallas's head—but he didn't let go.
Pallas continued smiling, as if victory were already his.
"Truly, I wish we could keep fighting," Pallas said, his grin slowly fading into something colder. "But this is war—the war you started."
His expression shifted completely.
The madness vanished, replaced by sharp calculation.
"Fighting you has been a joy," he admitted. "But joy does not win wars. And you…"
"You are troublesome."
Pallas stared directly into Aetherion's eyes.
"If I am the Titan of Warcraft," he said quietly, "then you should already know this—I will do anything to win."
Aetherion felt it then.
A sudden, suffocating premonition.
Before he could break free, Pallas moved.
"It is my victory,"
Pallas muttered.
Divine energy exploded outward.
Aetherion's pupils shrank as Pallas transformed before his eyes.
Heavy divine armor formed over his body—dark bronze, ancient, indestructible.
In his hands appeared a spear and a blade glowing deep crimson.
A helm sealed over his head, hiding his face completely—save for two blazing red eyes filled with wrath and cold intent.
This was no longer a simple titan.
This was a Great Titan.
Pallas had entered his Divine Form.
The pressure alone was overwhelming.
Aetherion's jaw clenched.
He felt it clearly now—this was one of the Twelve.
But still Aetherion didn't know what Pallas was up to.
But then—
Pallas raised his blade.
Only then did Aetherion rip the cloth from his eyes.
But… it was to late.
Space itself began to crack around the weapon.
"My parallel expansion …"
Aetherion realized in horror.
Pallas swung.
The Pallas Expansion shattered.
The world screamed as the parallel expansion collapsed, space tearing apart like glass.
Returning the world to how it was before this battle happened.
"I told you, boy," Pallas said calmly. "Victory is mine."
'Fuck… fuck—!'
Aetherion cursed internally.
The moment the expansion broke, Pallas's divine aura flooded the world.
Any powerful being nearby would feel it.
No… anyone in this world could feel him.
Kronos would know and.
Reinforcements would come.
Worse—Reinforcements would come and Kronos himself may appear.
'I was too careless.'
Without hesitation, Aetherion turned his head toward Hera and shouted,
"Hera! Take command of the army—now! I'll handle him!"
He summoned one thousand clones instantly, sending them toward Hera.
"Use them however you need,"
he said sharply.
Hera met his gaze and nodded seriously.
"Understood."
Aetherion turned back to Pallas.
The grin was gone.
His star-like pupils sharpened, glowing with absolute focus.
"Enough,"
Aetherion whispered.
He stepped forward and spoke quietly—
"Parallel Expansion… Star Domain."
"Starry Realm."
The world vanished.
Reality folded inward as a new space formed—one born of stars and silence.
A battlefield where only Aetherion and Pallas existed.
A realm created not to stall…
…but to end this.