"Holy crap, this is even bigger than the KOF finals." Sie Kensou munched on a meat bun, his words muffled. "Did we seriously score front-row seats to watch immortals throw hands?"
Athena Asamiya shot him an exasperated look, worry etched across her face. "I just hope Cloud knows what he's doing... That Emperor, he feels so evil. So terrifying."
Under the watchful eyes of billions across the globe, the confrontation at the mountain's summit erupted without warning.
"Cloud—die!"
The Emperor wasted no breath on posturing. His opening move shook heaven and earth itself.
He didn't employ any specific technique—merely raised his hand toward the sky and clenched his fist.
"Imperial Ultimate Scripture—Heaven's Wrath Avalanche!"
In an instant, the heavens transformed.
The clear sky vanished, swallowed by clouds as dark and heavy as lead in mere seconds.
Temperatures plummeted. Snow thick as goose feathers materialized from nothing, accompanied by winds sharp enough to rupture eardrums, howling down upon them.
The summit of Mount Fuji became a frozen wasteland—a domain of death wreathed in ice and snow.
BOOM—!!!
But that wasn't the worst of it. As the Emperor channeled his power, the eternal snowpack crowning the mountain began to tremble violently—then collapse.
Hundreds of millions of tons of ice and snow cascaded downward like white dragons, roaring and tumbling, threatening to bury the entire world beneath their fury.
"What the hell?! He's opening with a map-wide AoE attack?!" The journalists at the base scrambled in terror, tripping over each other as they fled.
"Is this... the pinnacle of the Absolute Domain?" In the VIP viewing area, Kyo Kusanagi and the others had joined hands to erect a barrier of flame, barely holding back the biting wind and the residual pressure bleeding through.
Even so, some of the weaker fighters caught the edge of that malevolent aura—that dark, violent hunger radiating from the Emperor—and immediately coughed up blood.
"What... overwhelming power!" Ryo Sakazaki's eyes filled with horror. "This energy is impure, chaotic—filled with the resentment and desperation of countless people. It's like a massive garbage dump! But... the sheer volume of it is staggering!"
Viewers around the world stared at their screens, watching what looked like the apocalypse unfold.
"It's over! How can anyone fight this?! The Emperor just flooded the entire fountain!"
"This power is even more terrifying than Goenitz! Cloud really kicked an iron plate this time!"
"My twenty bucks... my dreams of making it big... gone..."
Every supporter of Cloud felt their hearts sink to rock bottom.
Yet in that sea of darkness and despair, a golden radiance—like the first sacred light of creation—suddenly blazed to life.
Cloud stood at the eye of the storm, looking as relaxed as ever. The lollipop in his mouth hadn't even budged.
He simply raised his right hand, extending a single finger toward the sky.
"You like playing with weather? What a coincidence—so do I."
"But I wonder if your artificial darkness can withstand... the real sun."
The instant his words fell, a pillar of golden flame—too brilliant for words, dazzling beyond description—erupted from his fingertip and pierced the heavens.
That column of light connected earth to the divine realm itself.
With unstoppable, domineering force, it slammed into those heavy, oppressive clouds.
There was no violent explosion. Only silent purification.
The blizzard that could freeze anything solid vaporized the moment it touched that golden pillar.
The churning, roaring stormclouds melted away like ice beneath a blazing sun, scattered and dissolved in seconds.
Three seconds.
That was all it took.
The clouds dispersed. The wind and snow ceased.
Warm sunlight broke through once more, bathing the entire summit of Mount Fuji in a sacred golden glow.
Cloud stood in that sunlight like a war god descended to the mortal realm.
He and the Emperor—wreathed in that dark, malevolent aura in the distance—formed the starkest, most absolute contrast imaginable.
This scene, broadcast live around the world, left everyone breathless.
"Oh my god! What kind of special effects is this?!"
"For a second there, I thought my screen broke—nothing but white light!"
"I can't even! Cloud is the GOAT! His style meter is off the charts!"
"I hereby declare myself a devoted follower of the Church of Cloud, starting today!"
"Impressive." The Emperor watched the sky that Cloud had forcibly "corrected," a flicker of surprise in his eyes—quickly replaced by boundless madness.
"But this is merely the death throes of the doomed. Before absolute superiority in realm, everything you do is meaningless!"
He roared and transformed into a streak of black light, taking the offensive.
"Imperial Dragon Mountain-Crusher!"
His fist shot forward, and behind him, a phantom dragon's head—formed from the combined power of countless absorbed fighters—roared forth, carrying enough force to shatter mountains as it hurtled toward Cloud.
"Absolute Domain at 98%..." Cloud sensed his opponent's power, a mocking smile curling his lips. "Your realm is a little higher than mine, I'll give you that. But..."
"Your power is so watered-down it's pathetic."
Facing that earth-shattering punch, Cloud neither dodged nor retreated. He met it head-on with a fist of his own.
No flashy techniques—just his own tempered, refined, utterly pure 96% Domain power concentrated at his knuckles.
BOOM—!!!
Golden fist-light and black dragon-head collided at Mount Fuji's peak.
In that instant, the shockwave made the entire mountain shudder.
Rocks from the crater's edge were torn free and sent flying like artillery shells in every direction.
The two figures separated the moment they clashed.
Cloud stood exactly where he'd been. Not a single step backward.
The Emperor, however, let out a muffled grunt and staggered back three paces. Each step left a deep footprint in the solid volcanic rock.
A direct exchange. The winner was clear.
...
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