The air was thick with silence. Kairis stood at the threshold of the final chamber, boots crunching on blackened stone that absorbed every step. Before him stretched a vast expanse of nothingness, broken only by faint violet ripples in the distance. Shadows of the void seemed to twist and breathe, alive in their own way.
From the darkness, a presence emerged. Tall, imposing, and exuding an aura of absolute authority: Malthior. The first commander of the Void Army, Lucien Dreamveil's most feared lieutenant. Even at twenty percent of his full power, he radiated dominance, an oppressive force that pressed against Kairis's chest.
"You've made it this far," Malthior said, voice low, resonant, and dripping with danger. "I wonder… is this mere skill, or the mercy of those who came before?"
Kairis narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip on his sword. Mercy? He'd survived Thariel, Alyth, Kaelthar, Veloria, and Seraphyx without assistance—this would be no different.
"I don't rely on mercy," Kairis replied. "I rely on power, precision, and survival."
Malthior's lips curled into a faint smile, almost imperceptible. "Then let us see which of us survives. This is no longer a test—it is a lesson."
Without warning, Malthior lunged, movement too fast for the eye to follow. His hands shifted in a blur, summoning void blades that materialized midair like black lightning, sharp and deadly. Kairis barely had time to react, twisting gravity beneath his feet to propel himself backward, evading the first strike.
The impact shattered the obsidian floor, sending jagged shards skittering across the arena. Gravity pulsed under Kairis's control, allowing him to glide and spin, evading another series of strikes that would have cleaved him in half.
Malthior wasn't holding back. Each move was precise, lethal, and enhanced by void energy, flowing around him like shadows given weight. Kairis realized immediately—this wasn't just a battle. It was a masterclass in destruction, and he was the target.
Kairis retaliated, swinging his blade while augmenting speed and strength with gravity. His Gyro-Telekinesis allowed him to shift momentum midair, turning the arena into a deadly dance of spins, flips, and calculated strikes. He slashed, aimed at Malthior's chest—but the commander vanished in a ripple of void energy, reappearing behind him.
A black void blade pressed against Kairis's throat, stopping just millimeters away.
"Good," Malthior said. "You adapt quickly."
Kairis smirked. "I have to."
With a sharp pull of gravity, he twisted backward, flipping the attack off and sending shards flying at Malthior. The commander blocked them effortlessly, using void energy to warp each shard mid-flight into harmless fragments.
This is insane. Kairis thought. Every attack required not just brute force, but precise anticipation. I have to synchronize my gravity with his void. Every movement counts.
The battle escalated.
Malthior unleashed waves of void energy, bending gravity and shadows around him. Kairis countered by amplifying his own gravitational fields, manipulating trajectory, speed, and force with astonishing precision. The arena itself became a weapon—shards, debris, air currents, even the shadows of void energy—all under Kairis's command.
Hand-to-hand combat followed. Fist met void-enhanced fist. Every strike sent shockwaves across the chamber, cracking stone, bending air, and igniting sparks of energy. Kairis rolled, twisted, and struck, using momentum to amplify gravity-assisted blows. Malthior countered, absorbing kinetic energy with void manipulation, redirecting it back as crushing force.
They moved like twin storms, spinning, flipping, sliding across walls and ceilings, each trying to outmaneuver the other. Kairis's sword clashed with void blades, sparks flying, the sound deafening, yet every movement was precise, fluid, and lethal.
Malthior's voice cut through the chaos: "You fight well… perhaps too well. I wonder if you feel the weight of those who held back for you."
Kairis's mind raced. Held back? No… impossible. Every fight has been brutal. This one… this one is worse. Yet he felt the truth in Malthior's words. Every commander he faced had been a challenge, but none like this. He realized that even at twenty percent, Malthior's full skill dwarfed anything he'd ever seen.
He pressed on, gravity augmenting his speed to near impossibility. He used Gyro-Telekinesis to immobilize shards, fling debris as shields, and manipulate his center of mass to dodge and counter.
But the commander wasn't just reacting—he was teaching. Each strike was a test, probing Kairis's limits, punishing overextension, rewarding adaptation.
The fight grew more brutal.
Kairis's arms ached, muscles screamed, and sweat mixed with blood streaked down his face. Malthior's void blades cut dangerously close, each missed strike a near-death experience. Gravity allowed Kairis to manipulate his positioning, fly, and counter—but Malthior's void was relentless, bending space to slash and strike from impossible angles.
Kairis realized the truth: he couldn't beat Malthior in raw power. He had to outthink, outmaneuver, and outlast. Every death, every near-miss, every shred of pain became a lesson.
He adapted mid-combat, using Aerial Step to traverse air currents and Gravity Falls cautiously to crush isolated points without self-harm. He manipulated the arena subtly, using gravitational wells to redirect void energy, pushing Malthior's own attacks into unfamiliar vectors.
Hours—or what felt like hours—passed in this endless ballet of death. Each blow left the arena in tatters. Obsidian shards floated midair, scorched from void energy. Dust and debris swirled like a storm around them. Yet Kairis refused to yield.
Then came the critical moment.
Malthior lunged with all his might, void blades spinning like black halos, gravity around Kairis compressing the air, making it nearly impossible to move. Kairis felt his muscles tear under the strain. Blood mixed with sweat, and his vision blurred.
I can't lose. Not now. Not after everything.
He concentrated, pulling the arena itself into his gravitational control. The shards, debris, and even air currents responded to him. Gyro-Telekinesis amplified, gravity amplified. He twisted midair, dodging a lethal void strike while slamming Malthior with the combined force of debris, gravitational pull, and sheer momentum.
The impact shattered the arena floor, sending Malthior sprawling. Kairis pressed the advantage, using every ounce of speed and power, dodging void blades while striking relentlessly. Malthior absorbed, redirected, and countered—but Kairis's relentless adaptation, gravity mastery, and sheer willpower pushed the commander to his limits.
Finally, after an eternity of brutal combat, Malthior faltered. A precise gravitational pull, a perfectly timed strike, and Kairis's blade found its mark—enough to stagger, not kill, but signal the end of the trial.
Malthior looked at him, breathing heavily, yet calm. "You… are more than I anticipated. Perhaps… the apostles of void should be feared."
Kairis, bloodied and battered, stood over him. His body was a map of pain, muscles torn, cuts everywhere, but his eyes burned with the same confidence that had carried him through every trial.
The arena was a ruin, floating shards spinning gently in the aftermath, the echoes of their battle resounding like a storm that would never end.
And there, behind him, the sun of the pocket dimension—or perhaps Lucien's void itself—glinted off his sword, casting a long shadow. A silent, commanding presence that seemed to say: He survived. He conquered.
Kairis Ash, battered, bloodied, bruised, but unbowed, raised his head. His shadow stretched behind him across the shattered arena, strong, defiant, and impossible to ignore.
He had survived. He had passed.
[Trial Complete: Malthior – First Commander of the Void Army]
[Synchronization: 100%]
[Reward: Apostolic Mastery Unlocked / Gravity Class Enhancement / Black Void Integration]
And somewhere in the infinite void, Lucien Dreamveil's faint, approving smile echoed.