He stood before the fractured mirror, the heavy silence of the room amplifying the strangeness of his own reflection. The face staring back at him was familiar, yet fundamentally altered, as if re-sculpted by an unseen artist. He stood taller now, a commanding 6'0" (183 cm), his frame holding a quiet, inexplicable grace that felt out of place in the humble dormitory.
His hair, once dark, had bled into a stark, pristine white, cascading down like strands of frozen silk to frame his youthful features in a cold, ethereal light. But it was his eyes that held the true depth of the unknown—pitch black, absorbing the dim light of the room without reflecting a single spark, like two deep pools of ancient, still water.
He donned a simple, unadorned robe of woven black and white, the fabric settling over him naturally. Yet, despite the striking physical changes, the most unsettling detail was what was missing. There was no aura. No pressure. No sign of the cataclysmic storm that had raged the night before. To the world, he appeared terrifyingly ordinary—a perfect void standing in the center of the room.
"The game begins now," he murmured, his voice devoid of emotion as he stepped out of the desolate academy grounds with a slow, rhythmic gait. Upon exiting the gates, his pitch-black eyes immediately drifted upward, scanning the straining energy barriers and the frantic fortifications that protected Astro Hildo from the impending doom. He shifted his gaze toward the outer defense line, his demeanor shifting from observation to action. He began to move, and the transition was instantaneous; one moment he was walking, and in the next nanosecond, he simply ceased to exist in that space. His speed was so absolute, so far beyond the comprehension of the human eye, that he vanished into thin air, leaving not even a blur behind as he surged toward the city walls.
He materialized instantly amidst the chaos of the defensive line, witnessing the desperate struggle of the soldiers and students who were throwing their lives against the encroaching beast tide. The visceral sight of blood and steel triggered a sudden, violent cascade of foreign images within his mind—memories of battlefields he had never stepped foot on and wars he had never fought. "Hmmm, it seems those Seven Old Things dared to toy with my memories, stuffing my mind with fabrications to confuse me," he analyzed with a cold, internal fury. "Just wait until I get my hands on them..."
He closed his eyes for a brief second and muttered an archaic, silent incantation to purge the mental intrusion. When he opened them again, the confusion was gone, replaced by a gaze of terrifying sharpness—eyes that seemed to hold the weight of deep, ancient secrets and understood the fundamental truths of the world. He swept this piercing gaze across the battlefield and locked onto a familiar figure in the distance—Ava, who was fighting desperately against the swarm. "I must first assist the people here to consolidate my power and gather strength in this realm," he decided pragmatically. Without wasting another moment, his figure blurred and vanished as he rushed forward to intervene in her battle.
He materialized atop the towering battlements of the city gate, his pitch-black eyes scanning the horizon with the detached authority of a judge. His gaze locked instantly onto the distant, ominous figure of the Dragon Prince floating above the enemy lines. "So, one of the Old Things is present here... the Dragon Lord," he muttered, recognizing the divine signature behind the puppet. "It is time to dismantle his schemes." A subtle but profound transformation washed over him; while the cut and style of his simple black-and-white robes remained unchanged, the fabric itself seemed to transmute under the weight of his aura, taking on a lustrous, regal quality that made him appear less like a student and more like an imperious prince of the heavens. He slowly raised his right hand, aiming his open palm directly at the endless, roaring ocean of beasts surging toward the walls. "It is over... Butterfly Effect," he whispered, invoking the law of causality where a minute exertion triggers a catastrophic consequence. A terrifying density of mana converged at his fingertips, warping the space around him. "Dao Intent... Special Grade Spell: Fullscale Killing." He released the technique, sending a nearly invisible ripple of distortion tearing through the air. The attack expanded exponentially as it traveled, sweeping through the battlefield like a scythe through wheat. In an instant, the wave pulverized the beast army, erasing thousands of monsters from existence in a single breath. The deafening roar of war was abruptly cut short, replaced by a heavy, absolute silence that hung over the battlefield for several terrified seconds as friend and foe alike stared at the sudden void.
The Dragon Prince, floating amidst the dissipating dust of his annihilated army, turned his burning gaze toward the solitary figure standing atop the city walls. He lowered his altitude, the air warping around his obsidian armor, until he hovered level with the battlement, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Who are you? Identify yourself, master," the Prince demanded, his voice echoing with a mixture of wariness and arrogance. "I make it a habit not to kill nameless ghosts."
Aldo offered a faint, mocking smile, his hands clasped behind his back. "Hmm, since when has the Dragon Lord failed to recognize me?"
The Prince's expression shifted instantly. "You know my true identity? Then why do you interfere with my conquest? Which of his disciples are you?"
"If you recall the hierarchy," Aldo replied, his voice calm yet carrying the crushing weight of absolute truth, "He had ten inner disciples and two direct disciples. I am one of the two. If your memory fails you, then learn it now: I am Dao."
The Dragon Prince's face twisted into a sneer of disbelief and disdain. "Impossible... that old fox actually sent you here? Even on his deathbed, he plots to secure the throne for his own lineage. He is truly delusional if he thinks he can control the outcome from the grave."
"That is not your concern," Aldo cut him off coldly, his pitch-black eyes boring into the dragon. "But if you wish to fight me, know that killing you would be a trivial matter for me."
The Prince laughed, a harsh, grating sound that shook the walls. "You are arrogant. True, I cannot kill you in your current state, but do not delude yourself—you cannot kill me either. We are at a stalemate."
Aldo did not deny the claim. Instead, he asked a sharp, calculated question. "How many?"
The Prince understood immediately. "The competitors? His twelve disciples, the Seven Astral Lords, and their seven disciples. I am the disciple of the Dragon Lord."
Aldo nodded slowly, processing the chessboard of the cosmos. "Hmm, understood. Then listen closely. I will give you one day. Leave this place, or you die."
From very ancient times, the Heavenly Restriction has been revered as one of the supreme ancient vows, a binding covenant that allows a host to unleash the true, unadulterated power of heaven and earth without restraint. As long as the host remains alive, this absolute defense never disappears, serving as an eternal, unbreakable shield against all creation. The Dragon Prince's terrifying claw, which carried enough force to shatter a continent, struck nothing but empty air inches from Aldo's face, halted instantly by the invisible, impenetrable wall of the restriction. "Heavenly Restriction???" the Prince gasped, his eyes widening in sudden, primal recognition as he scrambled backward in a frantic blur of motion to put distance between them. The arrogance that had defined his presence vanished instantly, replaced by the cold sweat of genuine terror. "Forgive my terrible behavior, Master Dao," he said, his voice trembling slightly as he bowed his head in submission. "As you suggested, we will leave within one day." Aldo tilted his head, his pitch-black eyes narrowing with cold amusement. "Do you really think you can just leave like that?" he asked softly. The Prince stiffened, sensing the trap. "What do you want?" "You should know my rules very well by now," Aldo replied, his voice projecting across the silent battlefield with absolute authority. "I will give you ten minutes. Those who are gone by then will live. Those who remain will die." The Dragon Prince did not hesitate for even a fraction of a second. "Understood," he said sharply. He immediately barked a retreat order to his generals, tearing a rift in the fabric of space and vanishing from the realm with his elite commanders, abandoning the millions of foot soldiers to their fate. Aldo watched the portal close, then began to count aloud with the cold precision of a ticking doomsday clock. "Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two... one." He raised his hand, pointing it at the confused ocean of beasts that remained. "Limitless, Butterfly Effect... Dao Technique—The Living Hell." A blinding light, brighter than the explosion of a thousand suns, erupted from his palm and swallowed the horizon. For several agonizing seconds, the world turned completely white, dissolving matter into pure energy. When the light finally faded, the silence was deafening; the millions of remaining beasts had simply ceased to exist, vaporized into nothingness without even a corpse left behind to mark their grave.
With the departure of the Dragon Prince, the swirling vortex of the portal collapsed in on itself, severing the connection between the realms and leaving behind only silence. Aldo turned his attention to the object that had been sustaining the massive gateway—a blindingly bright artifact that the people of this world had terrifiedly dubbed the "Million Artifact Sword." He reached out, his fingers hovering over the pulsating energy, and a look of realization crossed his face as he deconstructed its composition with a single glance. "Hmm, what kind of Million Artifact Sword is this? These ignorant mortals... this is clearly a Magic Core Stone," he muttered, shaking his head at their lack of knowledge. "And this isn't a weapon; it is a foundational catalyst used to..." He paused, a brilliant, ambitious idea taking root in his mind as he looked at the desolate planet around him. "If I start with this planet... if I use this stone to rewrite the fundamental laws of this world and elevate it to a higher dimension, I would be significantly closer to achieving my ultimate goal of becoming the Heaven. Yes, this place will be my board." Deciding that this treasure was far too valuable to be left in the dust, he reasoned, "It is better to keep this stone safe for now." With a casual wave of his hand, the Divine Stone vanished into his Space Ring. His objective clear, he turned his back on the silent battlefield and walked slowly toward the stunned defenders waiting at the gates of Astro Hildo.