Chapter 16: The Whole Armada Empire is in Flames! {FALL!} (14)
The air above the shattered Imperial Palace—now a grotesque monument to Abellion's rage—was thick with the scent of ozone and the terrifying pressure of Ancalagon's ultimate spell. The massive, crimson magic circle, the 'Apocalypse of End,' spun in the heavens, drawing ambient energy from the entire continent. It was a magical siege weapon, designed not just to destroy a city, but to tear a hole in the veil between the mortal and divine realms.
From the swirling darkness of the sky, a figure dropped. He wasn't descending; he was being drawn down by his own immense, unnatural gravity, like a fallen god returning to his corrupted throne.
"I see." Abellion on the skies, he saw a circle that the same size of city.
His voice was carried on the wind, a low, resonant tone of chilling satisfaction. He didn't look up with fear or even caution; he looked up with proprietorship, as if observing a perfectly executed stage prop.
"Finally, that damn dragon activated the Apocalypse of End."
He landed in the center of the plaza with a thunderous impact, the cracked stone beneath his boots shattering into powder. It was an entrance of deliberate, epic grandiosity, a mockery of the heroes who had always descended from the heavens to save the day. Abellion then fall into the ground with a hero like entrance. He stood there, a silhouette of golden hair and black armor, a terrifying monument to their collective failure.
Abellion then saw both his father and Yulen struggling Ancalagon. The two heroes were battered, their armor rent, blood seeping from countless minor wounds. They were holding their ground purely on sheer will, but they were at the limit of their endurance, completely outmatched by the ancient dragon in his hybrid form.
Ancalagon, meanwhile, seemed to be enjoying himself, swatting the heroes away and roaring taunts to the sky. He was not aiming to kill, merely to prolong the agony and maximize the despair that would attract the Goddess of Light.
Abellion watched for barely a second before his impatience boiled over.
"Stop playing them already Ancalagon." Abellion look at him and continue. The words were sharp, carrying the weight of command. "It's time for you to focus on that circle and be sure that bitch of a Goddess come down here."
The sheer audacity of the order stunned the two heroes. A mortal—even a Dark Lord—ordering the Dragon of the Apocalypse, a being of primal power, to heel?
Ancalagon's amber eyes narrowed, and a guttural rumble vibrated in his chest. His massive, scaled hand, tipped with scythe-like claws, clenched slowly.
"Why should i follow you Abellion?!" Ancalagon's voice was like grinding stone. Ancalagon look at Abellion, of all his experience of him getting sealed and unsealed again, cause of the Eye of the Dragon of Time, Ancalagon faced people like him ordering around.
The dragon's history was a loop of failure and imprisonment. He had endured millennia of servitude and manipulation. In the Original Timeline it was Personia when she was resurrected, in the second timeline it was Olivia, but now the one who ordering him is this guy. The fact that he, the ultimate manifestation of chaos, was taking orders from a human was deeply irritating to his ancient pride. Ancalagon wanted to test him so he did what crazy psycho's could do.
With a roar that scattered the clouds, Ancalagon lift his hand and tried to punch Abellion. It wasn't a magic spell, just a physical blow from a creature who could crush mountains—a full-force, no-holds-barred strike aimed at pulverizing Abellion into the earth.
But the blow never landed.
"Do you think you really could go against me? You damn fucking lizard?!"
Abellion didn't move. He didn't raise his mace. He simply released the full, overwhelming presence of the Ring of End, enhanced by the devoured souls of Thor and Thanatos. It wasn't just power; it was pure, concentrated dominion. A palpable aura of bloodlust, so thick it felt like being submerged in freezing oil, slammed into Ancalagon. The air itself shrieked.
Abellion look at him in fury and in bloodlust. It was the stare of a man who had already murdered every god in his heart and was waiting for the physical manifestation to catch up.
Ancalagon's fist, just inches from Abellion's face, stalled. It didn't slow; it stopped. The sheer force of Abellion's terrifying will was a physical wall, pressing against the dragon's power. Ancalagon roared in frustrated disbelief, but his muscles refused to complete the motion.
Ancalagon stop clutching his hand and Abellion let it go. Abellion didn't even acknowledge the threat, merely waited for the dragon to back down.
'For the first time of all rounds when i was in a loop of sealing and unsealing.' Ancalagon's internal monologue was a cascade of realization. 'This bastard was the only one who have the guts to level a being like me.'
Abellion treated him not as the Dragon of the Apocalypse, but as a petulant child failing to perform its duty. It was infuriating, yet utterly compelling. The Dragon saw the truth: Abellion, fueled by personal agony, was purer in his destructive intent than any primordial chaos god.
Ancalagon slowly lowered his hand, his scaled face contorted in a sneer that held both respect and hatred. Ancalagon shrug and said "It was a damn joke, you're always stiff y'know. And."
He looked up at the Apocalypse circle, its runes vibrating dangerously. Ancalagon look throught the skies and sighed. "Fine have your way i'm done playing those feeble mortals anyways."
His massive, terrifying form then ascended, flying not to fight, but to assume position near the edge of the rune circle, where he could pour his immense draconic power into stabilizing and focusing the spell. Ancalagon then jump and fly towards the sky. The heroes were forgotten; the greater plan was back in motion.
With Ancalagon gone, the oppressive magical pressure eased, but the physical threat intensified. Abellion turned his gaze to his father and his brother.
Abellion look on both Yulen and Abrellios. "Pathetic."
They were exhausted, covered in wounds inflicted by the Dragon, and still reeling from the cosmic horror of the Apocalypse spell. Abellion didn't see heroes; he saw the survivors of the system that killed his family.
He raised his black war mace, not in a complex attack, but in a simple, overwhelming swing, enhanced by his absorbed divinity.
-SMASH!
He aimed to shatter them both into the dust they currently knelt in.
Abellion then smash them but.
Just as the mace descended, a flash of sapphire light erupted between them.
-BOOM!
The resulting magical explosion of raw, concentrated force deflected the mace, sending Abellion stumbling back half a step—a reaction he hadn't shown since the start of the war.
Abellion staggered back. He looked past the blinding light to see who dared interfere.
"Yulen!" The one who did it was non other than the Main Heroine of the novel, one of Yulen's harem. Princess Celine of Magika Empire, the empire of Sorceress, Sorcerers, Witches, Mages, and Wizards.
Celine, a princess whose power was said to rival the arch-mages of old, stood before Yulen, her delicate hands glowing with spent mana. She was dressed in the ornate, yet functional, robes of her magical kingdom, and she had just expended enough power to blow a hole through a mountain just to buy them a single second.
Abellion just look at them, while Celine wiped Yulen's face full of blood and dirt and including wiping Abrellios. She was careful, gentle, treating their grievous wounds with soft hands and urgent, soothing words. This simple act of unconditional compassion was the worst thing Abellion could have witnessed.
He remembered his dear wife Olivia.
The bloody, chaotic battlefield dissolved around him, replaced by the warm, flickering light of a wood fire in a tiny, hidden cottage, smelling faintly of pinewood and herbal tea.
'Abel, you should be careful what did i say about hunting at night?!' Olivia's voice, melodious and scolding, filled his memory. She was seated by the fire, her hands resting protectively over the heavy swell of her belly, which housed the twins. Her elven beauty, usually ethereal, was grounded by the maternal glow.
'I'm sorry madam, OWW! What's that for?!' He recalled the playful, light smack she delivered to his arm—a sign of genuine worry.
'Hmph!' Olivia then smiled and laugh. The memory of that laughter, rich and full, was a physical ache in Abellion's chest.
'Haha, very funny.'
She rose, moving with the careful, beautiful grace of a heavily pregnant Elf, crossing the small room. Olivia kissed him and kissed his forehead too.
'I did that because i care for you, you know i'm damn pregnant right. I cant just—'
She was about to say that she couldn't come with him to hunt or protect him, her frustration bubbling up from her love. But Abellion, then just Johan, the reincarnated-turned-husband, gently silenced her.
Before Olivia could continue, Abellion hold her hand and kiss her right hand. He pressed his lips to her wedding ring, a promise sealed in that intimate moment.
'I won't, and i did promise to you right that you will not lose anyone because i'm finally here, you won't be alone anymore.'
He meant it then. He was the one who was supposed to be the villain, but he broke his role and become the protector, the one who broke the rules for love. He was the Hero, not his brother.
Olivia then look at him, and she smiled and then she cried. Tears of relief and love streamed down her face. It was overwhelming happiness, a promise of a perfect future.
'Ohh come on you should not cry.' Abellion wipe Olivia's tears and continue. 'It doesn't suit you crying y'know.' He gently wiped her cheeks, kissing away the salty tears. Abellion look at Olivia and kissed her passionately and he continue. 'My beautiful and hot wife should not cry alright?'
Olivia nod, and then she look at the belly and look back to Abellion. She was serene, ready to discuss the future she was carrying.
'You know it's been a week when i ask you for giving our children a name, you should give names to our twins already. After all we will have both a beautiful son and a beautiful daughter.'
Abellion smiled, his memory still sharp and excruciatingly painful. 'All right, all right.' Abellion look on the belly and hug her, and he look up to Olivia.
He felt the weight of the moment, the profound responsibility of naming the lives they had created. 'How about this, our son's name will be Raemondeus, and our daughter's name will be Daenrysia, does it suit you?'
The names were chosen carefully: Raemondeus, meaning 'Wise Protector,' and Daenrysia, meaning 'Fierce Princess of Spring.' Names fit for their children.
Olivia nod and then Abellion felt a bump kick from the womb, two bumps. One gentle, one fierce. The feeling of those two tiny lives kicking against his hand—the unmistakable proof of his family, his reality, his future—was an epiphany of joy. 'It seems they love it Olivia.'
Olivia cried and then replied. 'Mhm.'
The memory shattered. The warmth of the fire was replaced by the heat of the burning capital. The scent of pine was replaced by blood and sulfur. The gentle sight of Olivia's smile was replaced by Celine's worried frown.
'Why do they get to have this?'
'Why does Yulen get the beautiful, powerful heroine to mend his wounds?'
'Why did I, the one who wanted peace, lose everything?'
After remembering that Abellion harden his resolve. The grief didn't soften him; it hardened his heart into an unbreakable diamond of hatred. Every tear Olivia had cried, every promise he had broken by failing to protect her, was now focused into a singular, murderous intent.
'I will kill everyone! Everyone who let you die Olivia, i will! I will not forgive all of them for what they stole from me!'
His face, which had held a moment of tragic softness, returned to the cold, ruthless mask of the Dark Lord.
Celine's voice broke through the haze of battle. "Yulen get up, let's go now befor—"
She never finished the sentence. Abellion moved. His mace, still humming with residual lightning power, was swung in a tight arc.
-SMASH!
He wasn't going to miss this time. He was targeting the ground beneath Yulen, aiming to crush the very foundation of the Hero's power and crush the pathetic gesture of compassion Celine had offered.
"Thunder God's!"
The air compressed, the lighting intensified.
"JUDGEMEEEENNNTTT!"
-CLANG!
Abrellios and Yulen barely parried it. Abrellios, summoning his last reserves of the Sword God's strength, brought Aethelred up to intercept the mace's shaft, while Yulen struck it with Navarium, using the time-altering sword to momentarily slow the impact. The combination saved their lives, but the sheer force drove them both deep into the earth.
Celine drop in the ground of was terrefied on what would be happen. The residual shockwave slammed into her, knocking the air from her lungs and scattering her concentration. She stared in horror at the crater where the two heroes were buried up to their knees.
Abellion, seizing the advantage, raised his six-bladed war mace again for the final, annihilating strike.
Abellion raised his six bladed war mace again. His power swelled, the ring on his finger glowing like a compressed star.
"RAAAAGGGHHHHH!!!" Abellion then smashed both of them.
He wasn't waiting. This was the end for the pathetic father who failed his friend, and the brother who watched him fail.
Before Abellion could finally flatten then into the ground, someone punch his face.
-BAM!
It was a sound like two mountains colliding. Abellion, mid-swing, was jerked sideways. His final, killing blow veered off course, splitting the ground next to Yulen instead of crushing him.
It was non other than Daniel, one of the protagonist companion and the Fist of North Star.
Daniel stood there, a towering figure of solid muscle and unyielding resolve, his dark skin coated in dust and his fists radiating white-hot ki. He was the epitome of physical perfection, a martial artist whose mastery over internal energy was legendary. He had used a unique high-speed movement technique, Zenith Blitz, to appear in the nick of time and deliver a counter-punch with the precise internal pressure of a master.
"Are you alright Yulen?" Daniel offered his hand and Yulen accept it. Yulen grabbed his friend's hand, pulling himself out of the rubble. And he get up and Yulen also helped his father to get up. Abrellios, dazed but alive, leaned heavily on Yulen, his eyes still fixed on Abellion.
Abellion stumbled, a dizzying sensation in his brain. He, the man who had shrugged off the divine energy of Thor, had just been stunned by a mortal's fist.
Abellion felt that punch, a damn right hook and what's worse it stings. It was the ki channeled through Daniel's fist, not raw power, that bypassed his magical defenses and struck his internal organs.
"GRUHH!" Abellion grunt and gesture his hand, and many monsters and chimera an Army of Nightmares appeared.
He had no time to recover fully. Abellion flicked his wrist, and the remnants of his army—the chimeras, the shadow beasts, the grotesque foot soldiers—streamed out from the surrounding ruins, summoned to create a wall of flesh.
"Take care of those cannon fodders, and i'll take care of this two." Abellion ordered his army and he gesture his hand towards to Abrellios and Yulen. He pointed not at Daniel, but at the two individuals he despised most: the father who failed, and the brother who was too late. He wanted to take care of those two.
Daniel cracked his knuckles, a terrifying grin spreading across his face. "Finally a damn good fight!" Daniel said it while smashed both of his hands and look on Abellion. His eyes, usually cheerful, were now alight with the ferocity of a battle-hardened warrior.
"Hey bastard! I will be the one who will—"
Daniel vanished. His movement was beyond perception, a simple flash of white ki.
Daniel then disappeared and appear to Abellion's back. He had circled Abellion, using the speed of sound, ready to deliver a definitive, finishing blow.
"Who will defeat you!." Before Daniel could punch Abellion again, his hands stop. A force seems to stop him.
Daniel's fist, a weapon forged by decades of discipline, halted dead in the air, stopped by an invisible, impenetrable shield a millimeter from Abellion's skull. Abellion hadn't turned his head. He hadn't lifted a hand. The defense was instantaneous, a pure reaction from the Ring of End.
Abellion look back "I learnt my damn lesson." He was talking about Daniel's first, successful sneak attack. He wouldn't allow a second.
Then Abellion raised his left foot. His entire body rotated, channeling the gravity power of the Ring into his heel.
"I always hate muscleheads brutes like you."
-BOOM!
The axekick came down with the force of a compressed black hole. It wasn't just physical force; it was a gravity spike that crushed Daniel's ki defense and the air from his lungs.
"AGGGHHHH!" Daniel screamed. He was launched across the plaza, smashing through the remnants of a courtyard fountain and disappearing beneath a shower of stone and water.
Abellion deliver an axekick to Daniel and then.
The Dark Lord immediately targeted the main hero.
"Daniel!" Yulen screamed in fear. The sight of his strongest companion being neutralized so effortlessly fueled a primal terror in Yulen.
"Thunder God's!"
Abellion didn't wait. He unleashed another JUDGEMENT, aiming to kill Yulen before Daniel could recover.
"JUDGEEEEMEEEENNNTTT!!!"
-CLANG!
The mace struck not Yulen, but a massive shield of compressed water and air that erupted from the ground. Abrellios, despite his internal injuries, had used his divine sword to focus the lingering rain and energy into a desperate, last-second barrier. The mace struck the shield, and the force dissipated in a blinding explosion of steam and electricity.
Abellion just watch his war mace was just deflected again. 'This damn bastards really ragebaiting me.'
They weren't strong enough to beat him, but they were skilled enough, and numerous enough, to keep delaying him. Every second was an insult to his vengeance.
"HUFF, HUFF, HUFF!" Yulen appeared infront of him. The young hero was standing between Abellion and his father, Navarium shaking in his hand, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear.
"Stop, enough of this Abel!" Yulen's voice cracked. He was pleading, not fighting.
Abellion just look at him and sighed. "I have enough."
The sigh wasn't one of exhaustion, but of profound, final disappointment. He was done with this pointless charade of a fight. He was done playing their game.
He was going to end everything.
The True End
"FALL!"
The word was uttered not at the heroes, but at the cosmos itself.
Yulen, Abrellios, Celine and Daniel who finally get up look on the sky.
Ancalagon, soaring near the red Apocalypse circle, paused his channeling and looked down. He saw Abellion pointing the Ring of End straight up, towards the void of space above the world's atmosphere. The dragon's mind, filled with the collective knowledge of all his past loops, screamed in alarm.
Ancalagon also watched on the skies and look back on Abellion. "Hey damn brat! Are you advancing our damn plan, it will be useless if you don't unsummon that shit. You fucking brat undo that damn Black Hole you summon in the space!" Ancalagon gestured the skies but Abellion ignore him.
The Apocalypse of End was designed to summon the Goddess of Light. Abellion's new spell, unleashed not in anger but in cold, calculated finality, was designed to destroy the entire solar system.
A tiny, pinprick of darkness appeared in the blackness of space above the planet. It was silent. It was absolute. It was the color of nothing.
Abellion summon a damn black hole outside of the planet, and what's worse the Black Hole has the same size of TON-618.
TON-618. A hyperluminous, gigantic stellar object whose size defied even the concept of measurement—a black hole so large it contained the mass of sixty-six billion suns. The one Abellion summoned, while not truly that size, was an impossible imitation created by collapsing the space-time fabric around the planet using the devoured gravity power of the Ring.
Its mere presence, even billions of miles away, was already catastrophic. Light bent around it. Stars flickered out. The gravitational pull would, within hours, tear the world apart, ripping the moon from its orbit and turning the sun into shrapnel. It was the ultimate, non-negotiable end.
Ancalagon, the Dragon of the Apocalypse, was screaming—not in rage, but in genuine, cosmic panic. This was not the plan!
Abellion, having exhausted his fury, now felt only a cold, empty resolve. He turned his gaze from the impossible destruction he had unleashed and focused his empty eyes on the only person left who could rewind time.
Abellion just tilt his head. "Go on, use your damn Eye of the Dragon of Time and regress again."
The sheer, devastating knowledge struck Yulen like the axekick had struck Daniel. The blood drained from his face. The world tilted.
'How the hell did he know?!'
No one knew about the Eye. Not his parents, not Celine, not Daniel, not even the Goddess of Light. The Eye of the Dragon of Time was Yulen's secret, his ultimate insurance policy, the mechanism for his regressions. It was the one piece of information that proved Abellion was not just a villain, but a fellow traveler—a prisoner of the same cyclical fate.
Abellion's expression held no triumph, no cruelty. Only a profound, aching weariness. He was not giving Yulen a choice; he was forcing his hand. He was telling his brother that the only way to undo the black hole, to save the world, to stop the true, total oblivion, was to sacrifice him, the Dark Lord, and trigger the rewind.
He stepped closer to Yulen, the sound of his armored boots echoing in the sudden, eerie silence caused by the cosmic terror he had just created. He was offering himself up as the necessary sacrifice to save Yulen's world.
Abellion look at Yulen with no held of any emotions. "Yulen."