Four hours after Kale's slaughter began, the sky itself declared war.
A pressure descended first—brutal, absolute, the kind that crushed ribs and forced blood from ears.
Then the horizon tore open with a sound like a continent screaming in its death throes. One hundred thousand A-ranks rose into the air in perfect, suffocating synchrony: every single one a living storm, lightning crawling over armor like hungry serpents, wind screaming from wings of condensed mana so dense they bent light itself.
They filled the heavens until the sun vanished behind a wall of white-blue death, until the very sky was erased and replaced by an ocean of crackling annihilation.
Below, on shattered sky-islands and floating continents of broken stone, nine hundred thousand lesser Stormrend troops beat war-drums that shook the earth's bones, but none could ascend. Only A-rank and above could defy gravity here.
Kale hovered at the vanguard, crimson mist coiling around him like a living cloak, spear dripping blood that never quite reached the ground.
Behind him, his ten thousand tongues stood in perfect rows, eyes glowing with pure killing intent. His four lovers stood at his shoulders—Sylvara's flames guttering low, Rhea leaning on her cracked spear, Seyra's shadow twitching, Lyrin's broken bells still dripping blood from her ears.
One hundred thousand Stormrend A-ranks against ten thousand bound tongues and four exhausted women.
Then three figures stepped out of the storm's heart and the pressure doubled. Kale frowned feeling the intensity of their combined aura's descending at once.
King Tharion descended first, boots never touching anything, lightning chaining between his limbs in living manacles that cracked reality with every pulse.
Queen Maelina followed, silk robes snapping in a private cyclone, hair whipping like a hurricane given form. General Orion came last, younger, crueler, electricity bleeding from his eyes in continuous arcs that carved molten scars into the sky-islands far below.
The hundred thousand A-ranks parted like a sea before their rulers and held position—perfect, silent, terrifying.
Tharion's voice rolled across the blood-soaked heavens, deep enough to rattle souls.
"Kale of the Voss. The world's first SSS talent," he said, surveying the ocean of corpses with the disdain of a god looking at ants. "Your reputation truly precedes you."
Kale didn't respond he simply tightened his grip on his spear eyeing the three.
Tharion smiled and continued speaking.
"Kale.... Your little rampage ends now. However, I give you two options, kneel and swear fealty to Stormrend. You and your women live as honored vassals under our banner."
He smiled, and a million ground troops roared in answer, with drums that shook Elaris.
"Refuse," Tharion continued, "and not even ash will remain."
Kale tilted his head, as crimson mist curled around the spear. A slow, amused smile spread across his face—the smile of a predator who had just heard the trap spring on someone else.
--
Orion barked a laugh that split clouds. Maelina's eyes narrowed to slits of storm gray.
Kale however, he remained silent as his smile hung on his face.
He let the silence stretch just long enough for Tharion's arrogance to fill it, then speaks, voice low and almost respectful, the tone of a man weighing a generous offer.
"Your Majesty offers mercy few would refuse," he says, inclining his head a fraction.... just enough to look humbled, but not enough to look weak.
"A vassal's throne beneath Stormrend's banner, my women spared, my life preserved… Tell me, King Tharion, if you were a talent like me... would you accept the offer If I gave it to you?"
"Of course I would—"
The word never finished.
[Mark - Tharion Stormrend | +2,100 EL]
The instant agreement left his tongue, invisible chains snapped tight around his soul with a sound like breaking worlds. The Heavenly Conquest Sovereign physique sang. Tharion's gray eyes bled to dull for one heartbeat then the light returned, colder, obedient.
And unbeknownst to the Orion and Maelina, Kale had already given orders.
His mental command was gentle, almost affectionate.
'Kill your wife. Leave Orion to me.'
Tharion moved the instant he received the order.
He used his strongest talent immediately stacked with a skill.
|Lightning's Verdict (A)|
|Heaven-Piercing Cataclysm (S)| - 45% MP |
Lightning condensed into a single spear of absolute white annihilation and punched straight through Maelina's chest before she could finish inhaling. The wind around her died mid-scream. Her body hung impaled in the air for one stunned heartbeat, silk robes fluttering around the hole where her heart had been, then fell like a discarded puppet.
It all happened so fast that Orion froze. He turned slightly only to see Maelina's heart explode out of her back on Tharion's spear. His words got lost in his throat as his eyes went wide.
Then electricity began flickering unstable across his skin like a dying star.
However, before he could even move or speak.
BANG!
Kale had already delivered a crushing punch to his jaw that sent him flying. He looked at Orion but didn't give chase though instead he raised his spear and activated his trump card.
He had been waiting for Stormrend to show their true strength just for this.
|Heavenly Conquest Edict|
Golden-crimson light detonated from his body in a pulse that washed over every bound tongue, every lover, every Voss soul still breathing. Power surged, one hundred and fifty percent of their maximum, forced into veins whether flesh could contain it or not.
Sylvara's flames turned black-gold and roared a hundred meters high. Rhea's spear screamed with momentum that shattered sound itself. Seyra's shadow tripled and opened a hungry maw. Lyrin's cracked bells rang a single perfect note that made reality bleed.
One hundred thousand Stormrend A-ranks faltered as their own king turned on their queen.
"LET'S END THIS WAR!"
Kale roared as he dove into action himself.
---
KRA-BOOOOOOOOOM!
High above the carnage, Orion's lightning fist met Kale's returning spear in a collision that turned the sky into a second sun. Shockwaves obliterated sky-islands for a hundred kilometers. Lightning and crimson star-iron clashed again and again.... each blow carving glowing scars across the heavens, each impact birthing newborn storms....
Orion screamed, face twisted with rage and betrayal. "I'LL TEAR YOUR HEART OUT!"
Kale smiled through blood-streaked teeth, with his spear spinning faster than sight.
"Try it."
Orion answered with everything he had left. His Soul Brand Myth of the Eternal Storm activated right before he began using his ability gained from his path.
CRACKLE!
The sky answered its master on cue.
Black clouds boiled across a thousand kilometers, lightning thick as continental spines, wind sharp enough to flay souls. Orion's body detonated outward into a living storm-deity fifty kilometers tall, eyes twin dying suns, fists wrapped in thunder that could shatter tectonic plates.
This was his Myth... as long as lightning was present, he felt himself to be a deity of lightning.
|Wrath of the Descending Heavens|
Orion brought both of his mountain sized fist down together and the wind, the clouds, and the ambient lightning mana all fused together.
Combining into one singular bolt of white annihilation that was wide enough to destroy entire cities... and hot enough to vaporize entire oceans...
The bolt fell and Kale looked at this without moving an inch.
He simply opened his mouth.
|Maw of Empire|
The crimson sigil on his tongue ignited like a starving red giant. The descending bolt of heavenly wrath touched the sigil and vanished.... swallowed whole, no resistance, no waste. The stolen energy poured into Kale's body in a torrent; veins glowed molten beneath his skin; his spear tripled in length and mass until it became a crimson monolith that bled continents.
[Devoured: Path Ability - Wrath of the Descending Heavens]
Orion's storm avatar staggered, suddenly hollowed out.
Kale exhaled once, crimson mist rolling from his lips like dragon smoke.
"Mine."
Then the Maw widened.... not just his mouth, but the sky itself split open into vertical crimson jaws five hundred kilometers across, lined with teeth of devoured lightning. Orion's remaining storm, his Myth-made-flesh, his Path, his very existence was dragged screaming into the void behind Kale's teeth.
The general thrashed, lightning claws raking uselessly at the air, trying to detonate his own core in defiance.
But it was too late.
The jaws closed with a wet, final CRUNCH.
Silence fell so complete the battlefield could hear its own heartbeat.
The Eternal Storm was gone.
The sky was red now.
Kale hovered alone at the center of the newborn crimson void, spear resting on one shoulder, blood-mist settling around him like a coronation mantle. Where Orion had been, only a single drifting spark of dying lightning remained... then even that winked out.
Far below the army of Stormrend were all kneeling. Tharion with the crown had all loyalty to those under his banner...
In just a few weeks the 10,000th ranked Kingdom of Elaris fell.
"Clean up, I will take up the crown tomorrow."
Kale's voice echoed around the battlefield as he flew towards the Palace of Stormrend. And as he made his way... his women joined in as well.