The battlefield was unrecognizable. The once-grand colosseum now stood on fractured ground, the scars of the previous battle stretching across its surface like ancient wounds. The weight of power still lingered in the air, thick, suffocating.
Dark and Caelum stood across from each other, unmoving.
The energy around them twisted and cracked, space itself bending under the sheer weight of their presence. Every breath they took, every shift in movement, sent ripples across reality. They weren't just fighting in the arena anymore.
They were rewriting the very rules of what a battle could be.
Dark exhaled sharply, his ribs still burning from Caelum's last strike. His fingers twitched, coated in his own blood.
Dark: (thinking) I felt that one.
Caelum rolled his shoulders, his golden-red eyes locked onto Dark with the gaze of a predator. He lifted Yuniba, the black greatsword resting against his shoulder, still humming with energy.
Caelum: You're holding up better than I expected. Most people die before I can even start having fun.
Dark smirked, wiping the blood off his lip with the back of his hand.
Dark: Guess that makes me built different.
Caelum chuckled, shifting his stance slightly.
Caelum: We'll see.
Then—he moved.
A single step forward.
The entire battlefield detonated.
Dark barely had time to register the attack before Yuniba was already inches from his throat.
Instinct took over. He twisted his body, dodging just enough for the blade to graze past his shoulder, splitting open flesh and fabric. Before he could counter, Caelum followed up with a crushing kick to the ribs, sending Dark flying through the air.
The moment his feet left the ground—
Caelum was already above him.
Dark's eyes widened.
Caelum: You're wide open.
He swung Yuniba downward.
Dark's hands shot up, catching the flat of the blade just before impact.
But the force—
The raw power behind it—
Split the air apart.
The very sky above them fractured like glass, cracks spreading outward from where their clash met. The sheer pressure obliterated what remained of the arena below.
Dark gritted his teeth, his arms trembling under the strain. His feet slammed into the shattered ground below, digging deep trenches in the stone as he absorbed the impact.
Dark: (thinking) He's insane... His strength isn't just raw power. It's like fighting against the weight of an entire world.
Caelum grinned, pressing down harder.
Caelum: What's wrong, Emperor? Feeling the pressure?
Dark: I could say the same for you.
Then—Dark twisted his grip.
Instead of trying to resist the weight, he let it guide him.
With a sharp pivot, he redirected the force.
Caelum's eyes flashed with recognition—too late.
Dark slammed his foot into the ground, twisting his body, and in one fluid motion—launched Caelum.
The moment the weight shifted, Dark followed up.
He lunged forward, fists coated in black energy, and in an instant, he was above Caelum, hammering him downward with a devastating elbow strike.
BOOM.
Caelum crashed into the battlefield, a crater forming instantly upon impact.
Dust and debris erupted in all directions, the force alone causing the arena's outer walls to finally crumble.
Dark landed a few feet away, exhaling sharply.
The silence that followed was deafening.
The audience—what remained of them—watched in stunned disbelief.
Then—
Caelum laughed.
The sound sent chills through the air.
Dark: (thinking) You've got to be kidding me.
A golden-red glow pulsed from within the crater.
Caelum: That was good.
The dust settled, revealing Caelum completely unharmed.
He rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck with casual ease.
Caelum: I actually felt that one. That's rare.
Dark didn't move, his body tensed, waiting.
Caelum's grip on Yuniba tightened slightly.
Caelum: But you're still not there yet.
Then—he moved again.
This time, Dark didn't see it.
Not in time.
The next thing he felt was pure impact.
A fist, crashing into his stomach with such force that the very concept of pain became meaningless.
His body folded inward before he was sent flying.
Everything blurred. The sky, the ground—mere streaks of color as he was launched across the battlefield.
Then—
Something stopped him.
Not the ground. Not a wall.
A hand.
Gripping his entire face.
Dark: (thinking) What—
The battlefield was no longer just broken—it was erased, reduced to something unrecognizable, an unholy wasteland of shattered stone and silence.
Not a single spectator made a sound.
Not because they didn't want to.
But because they couldn't.
The very concept of noise felt like an insult to the presence that now dominated the arena.
Caelum: Huh...?
His voice barely escaped his lips, his usual composure slipping for the first time.
The scene pulled outward, framing the chaos, the destruction, and in the very center—him.
He stood there, no theatrics, no unnecessary movement. Just presence.
A presence that eclipsed everything.
His aura wasn't fire, wasn't light, wasn't even darkness. It was an existence that didn't belong here, something that shouldn't even be seen. A force beyond mana, beyond divinity, beyond logic.
Sukojo.
The Devourer of All.
Descending, slowly, holding Dark by the face like a child grasping a fragile toy.
Caelum's breath hitched. His body reacted before his mind did—run.
He turned, muscles tightening, instincts screaming.
And in that very instant—
Sukojo was already in front of him.
Not because he moved. Not because he teleported.
But because he simply was.
Caelum's pupils shrank.
Caelum: (thinking) No...
The conqueror of worlds—the one who had shattered empires, who had burned civilizations to the ground, who had never known fear—felt something inside him crack.
A pressure unlike anything before.
Something that wasn't just heavy—it was suffocating.
Caelum forced himself to stand tall, despite every fiber of his being screaming otherwise.
Sukojo, still gripping Dark like an afterthought, tilted his head, his gaze dripping with disinterest.
Sukojo: Oh, Dark.
His voice was smooth, casual—like he had stumbled upon an old acquaintance.
Sukojo: So this is where you've been hiding?
Dark: (thinking) No way...
His thoughts came in fragments, scrambled.
Dark: (thinking) I thought Copi stopped Sukojo... so why...?
A flicker of something in his mind. A realization so terrifying he almost refused to acknowledge it.
Dark: (thinking) Did he... kill Copi?
Sukojo's fingers uncurled, and Dark dropped unceremoniously to the ground. His boots scraped against the ruined stone as he regained his footing, his instincts still failing to process what was happening.
Dark: Huh?
Sukojo barely moved his head, glancing at him from the corner of his eyes, his lips curling into something wrong.
Not a smirk.
Not a grin.
Something darker.
He reached out, slow, deliberate—patting Dark's head.
Sukojo: Sit back and watch how it's done.
Dark's stomach twisted.
Dark: (thinking) The fuck?
Then—Sukojo turned his full attention to Caelum.
And the air changed.
The playfulness drained from his face.
His aura, already suffocating, became absolute.
The sky dimmed. The horizon blurred. The mere act of looking at him became painful.
Caelum felt it immediately.
His lungs struggled. His muscles locked. His thoughts turned to static.
It wasn't a matter of strength anymore.
It was authority.
Sukojo walked forward.
Nothing dramatic. No exaggerated movements.
But with each step—something broke.
Space.
The concept of distance became meaningless.
Reality itself distorted.
Caelum forced his legs to move, stepping forward to meet him, to not back down.
Because if he backed down, if he hesitated for even a second, the fear that clawed at his chest would win.
They stopped, mere inches apart.
Two titans standing tall, but only one standing without fear.
Caelum's usual smirk remained plastered on his face, but now—now it was forced.
Sukojo's eyes remained blank, lifeless.
Sukojo: Boo.
Caelum flinched.
Barely.
Almost unnoticeable.
But it happened.
Sukojo laughed.
A terrible, violent sound.
Sukojo: Khaaaahahahaha.
Deep, mocking, something that dug itself into the skin.
Then—he reached out.
No tension. No buildup.
A simple motion.
His hand rested on Caelum's shoulder.
Fingers pressing down—lightly.
Testing.
Sukojo: Tell me.
His voice was too soft.
Sukojo: What would you do if I punched you in the face?
Caelum gulped.
His mind scrambled for something, anything, to say.
Caelum: You wouldn't. I'd already be behind you.
A lie.
A desperate attempt to hold onto whatever confidence he had left.
Sukojo's grin widened.
And then—
Caelum disappeared.
Not teleported.
Not moved.
He simply ceased to be there.
Then—
Impact.
The boom didn't come first.
Not the shockwave.
Not the explosion.
First—came absence.
Then, all at once—
The arena shattered.
Caelum's body rocketed across the battlefield, slamming into the last standing wall with such force that the stone didn't just crack—it atomized.
Debris didn't fall. It erupted.
The world itself shook.
Then—
Stillness.
Dust.
Silence.
The camera zoomed in.
Caelum.
His body was wrecked. Blood poured from his mouth, from his nose, from his ears.
His ribs? Gone. Pulverized.
His limbs twitched, barely. His vision blurred, his mind desperately trying to catch up.
Caelum: (thinking) What... the... fuck...?
It wasn't just pain.
It wasn't just damage.
It was something worse.
Something wrong.
He wasn't healing.
His strength wasn't returning.
His soul—his very existence—felt like it was unraveling.
Caelum: (thinking) This... isn't... possible...
His thoughts struggled to form, to believe.
He had fought gods.
He had killed gods.
He had burned entire realms to the ground.
And yet—
One light punch from Sukojo had done this.
More than damage.
It felt like something inside him had been erased.
The camera cut back to Sukojo, still standing in the same spot, flexing his fingers as if testing something.
Sukojo: Tch.
A scoff.
Sukojo: I barely even tried.
Dark's breath caught in his throat.
Dark: (thinking) This... is different from before.
Sukojo examined his own hand, rolling his wrist lazily.
Sukojo: Hm. I must be rusty.
The words came with no weight.
No sarcasm.
Just truth.
Sukojo's gaze shifted back to Caelum's broken form, watching.
Waiting.
Seeing if the so-called Conqueror of Worlds had anything left.
The world watched.
And Caelum—
Could barely move.
Dark's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a deafening drum against the oppressive silence. He watched, muscles coiled with tension, as Sukojo's gaze remained fixed on Caelum's shattered form. The air was thick with anticipation, the weight of impending doom pressing down on him.
Dark: (thinking) I have to do something... But what chance do I have against him?
Sukojo's lips curled into a faint, mocking smile, as if he could read Dark's thoughts. He took a step forward, the ground beneath his feet cracking under the immense pressure of his presence.
Sukojo: Is this the best this world has to offer? Pathetic.
Dark's fists clenched at his sides, nails digging into his palms. He knew he was outmatched, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing. Summoning every ounce of courage, he stepped forward, placing himself between Sukojo and the fallen Caelum.
Dark: I won't let you go any further.
Sukojo raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his cold eyes.
Sukojo: Oh? And what do you plan to do, Dark? Entertain me with your futile resistance?
Dark's jaw tightened, but he stood his ground.
Dark: I may not be able to defeat you, but I won't let you harm anyone else without a fight.
Sukojo's laughter echoed through the desolate arena, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Dark's spine.
Sukojo: Very well, let's see how long you can last.
Without warning, Sukojo vanished, reappearing before Dark in an instant. Dark barely had time to react, raising his arms in a desperate attempt to block the incoming blow. The force of Sukojo's punch sent him sprawling backward, pain exploding through his body.
Gritting his teeth, Dark pushed himself to his feet, refusing to stay down. He charged at Sukojo, unleashing a flurry of attacks, each one deflected with effortless ease. Sukojo's movements were a blur, a dance of death that Dark struggled to keep up with.
As the battle raged on, Dark's strength waned, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Sukojo, on the other hand, remained untouched, his expression one of boredom.
Sukojo: Is this all you've got? How disappointing.
With a swift motion, Sukojo struck Dark in the chest, sending him crashing to the ground. Dark coughed, blood splattering the dirt beneath him.
Dark: (thinking) I... I can't give up... Not now...
Summoning the last remnants of his strength, Dark forced himself to stand once more. He met Sukojo's gaze, determination burning in his eyes.
Dark: This isn't over.
Sukojo's smile widened, a predator savoring the hunt.
Sukojo: Oh, but it is.
In a blur of motion, Sukojo closed the distance between them, his hand wrapping around Dark's throat. He lifted him off the ground effortlessly, squeezing just enough to cut off his air supply.
Sukojo: Any last words?
Dark's vision darkened at the edges, his struggles weakening. He managed to choke out a few words, defiance still burning within him.
Dark: Go... to... hell...
Sukojo chuckled, a cold, mirthless sound.
Sukojo: After you.
With a flick of his wrist, Sukojo hurled Dark across the arena, his body skidding to a halt near Caelum's motionless form. Dark's consciousness faded, darkness consuming him as he succumbed to his injuries.
Sukojo stood amidst the devastation, the embodiment of destruction. The arena, once a place of honor and valor, now lay in ruins, a testament to his overwhelming power. He surveyed the carnage with a satisfied smirk, his gaze lingering on the fallen warriors before he turned and vanished into the shadows, leaving only despair in his wake.
Dark's body remained still, crumpled against the shattered remains of the battlefield. The silence was suffocating, the air thick with the stench of blood and devastation. His breath was shallow, his vision flickering in and out of darkness. His body was failing.
And then—
A ripple in the void.
Something stirred.
From within Dark's chest, deep within the shadows of his very being, a presence awoke. A crimson flicker in the abyss, cold, unfeeling, but absolute.
The shadows around him moved unnaturally, shifting like liquid tendrils, gathering at his feet before rising like a blackened storm. The temperature dropped. The torches in the ruined colosseum flickered violently before dying out, plunging everything into a suffocating void.
Then—two glowing red slits ignited in the darkness.
Igor had arrived.
He did not step forward. He did not move.
He simply was.
His form, vast and unyielding, materialized from the swirling mass of Dark's own shadow, the enormous figure looming over his fallen Emperor. His presence alone sent another wave of pressure rolling across the battlefield.
Igor: My Emperor.
The voice was deep, distant, almost mechanical—yet filled with something far more ancient, something unfathomable.
Dark's fingers twitched. His body, broken beyond recognition, barely responded. Yet his mind—his will—still burned.
Dark: (thinking) I... lost?
The realization was bitter. The pain in his body was nothing compared to the weight in his chest.
Sukojo had come.
And Sukojo had won.
Dark's teeth clenched weakly, a spark of defiance igniting somewhere deep within his soul.
And Igor felt it.
The towering shadow knelt beside him, the weight of his form cracking the stone beneath them. His massive, gauntleted hand extended toward Dark's broken body, the void-like substance of his form wrapping around his Emperor like a protective cloak.
Igor: You are not permitted to fall.
Dark's eyelids fluttered, his vision barely clinging to reality. His head lolled slightly to the side, catching a glimpse of Caelum's battered form in the distance.
The so-called Conqueror of Worlds lay barely conscious, his breath ragged, his body refusing to heal from Sukojo's attack. His golden-red eyes were dull, his expression locked somewhere between disbelief and raw hatred.
Dark: (thinking) Even Caelum... was nothing to him.
A cold, numbing sensation spread through his body. But it wasn't death.
It was Igor.
The massive shadow-warrior placed a hand on Dark's chest, and the sensation of void energy surged into him.
Not healing. Not restoration.
Something else.
Something darker.
A link reestablished.
A presence awakening.
For the first time in what felt like eternity, Dark felt.
Dark: (thinking) My body...
Strength. Not much. But enough.
His fingers twitched, his breathing steadied. He felt the weight of his limbs returning, the pain still unbearable—but manageable.
Igor: Rise. My Emperor.
Dark's eyes slowly opened, the crimson gleam within them flickering like a dying star. His mind was still reeling, his memories a haze of battle and destruction, but one thought remained sharp.
Dark: (thinking) Sukojo is still here.
The very mention of that name sent a shudder through his being.
Igor stood to his full height, his armor humming with restrained power. The shadows coiling around his form twisted unnaturally, responding to the sheer force of his presence.
Igor: Shall I engage?
Dark's breathing was uneven, but he forced himself to stand, even as every fiber of his body screamed at him to collapse. He lifted his gaze toward the battlefield, searching for him.
For Sukojo.
But—he was gone.
Dark's fists clenched.
Dark: No.
Igor remained silent.
Dark exhaled, steadying himself. He wasn't in any condition to fight. He wasn't even in any condition to stand. But that didn't matter.
Dark: I don't need you to engage, Igor. I need you to prepare.
Igor tilted his head slightly, his crimson visor scanning his Emperor with silent analysis.
Igor: For what?
Dark's expression darkened, his gaze drifting toward Caelum's motionless form.
Dark: For war.
The words carried weight.
A shift.
A moment in time where something irreversibly changed.
The colosseum lay in ruins. The sky loomed overhead, dark and endless.
And amidst the wreckage, one truth settled over the battlefield—
Sukojo had come.
And he would return.
Dark: (thinking) Next time, I won't be the one left standing in the rubble.
To Be Continued...
End Of Arc 5 Chapter 10.