Athena shook her head, a small, tired smile on her face. "Agreed."
As the [Victory] panel flickered weakly, both Cyrus and Athena kept their eyes trained on it, their bodies tense and ready for another wave. For a few seconds, the panel hung in the air, pulsing faintly, but then, slowly, it began to fade. The light from the word "Victory" dimmed until it vanished entirely. Cyrus and Athena waited, bracing themselves for another cruel surprise.
But no new panel appeared.
The silence stretched between them as they scanned their surroundings, wary of what might come next. Yet, nothing stirred. It was too quiet. Too still.
Then, the darkness around them began to shift. The void that had been their battleground seemed to swirl and compress, as if the shadows themselves were being pulled into a singular point just in front of them. The massive eye that had loomed ominously overhead was no exception—its unsettling gaze was drawn into the swirling vortex like the rest of the darkness. In a matter of moments, the oppressive blackness that had surrounded them was sucked into this single, twisting point.
The air seemed to tremble as the last remnants of the void vanished, leaving behind an infinite expanse of pure white. The ground beneath their feet was smooth and featureless, like polished marble, and above them stretched an endless, cloudless sky. The stark contrast of this new realm left Cyrus and Athena momentarily disoriented, as if they had stepped into a realm beyond comprehension.
But their attention quickly snapped back to the point in front of them. The singularity that had swallowed the darkness began to distort, warping and expanding as if it were trying to take shape. The space around it twisted unnaturally, and from this chaotic mass, a figure began to emerge.
At first, it was just an outline, a humanoid shape writhing within the point of distortion. Slowly, the figure took form, its limbs elongating, its body stretching out into something grotesquely humanoid. Its skin was a pale, ashen gray, slick and glistening like it was coated in a thin layer of oil. Its long, spindly arms dangled at its sides, and its legs were unnaturally thin, barely supporting its towering height. As it fully materialized, its spine cracked audibly, arching forward in a disturbing, hunched posture.
And then there was its face—or lack thereof.
Where its face should have been, there was only a smooth, featureless surface, like porcelain. No eyes, no mouth, no nose—just a blank slate. But despite this, a massive grin stretched impossibly wide across its faceless head, carved into the smooth surface as if it had been etched there by some unseen hand. The grin was jagged, with rows of sharp, uneven teeth, far too many for any creature to possess. It radiated an eerie, sickening energy, a twisted mockery of joy.
The creature stood before them, towering over both Cyrus and Athena, its head tilted slightly to the side as if observing them with invisible eyes. The air around it was suffused with a palpable, deadly aura. The very space seemed to warp and bend near it, distorting reality itself. A low, guttural hum emanated from the creature, vibrating the ground beneath their feet, filling the air with a sense of impending doom.
Cyrus instinctively tightened his grip on his sword, feeling the weight of the creature’s presence pressing down on him. His skin prickled, and a cold sweat broke out across his brow. This was different—this wasn’t like the previous waves of mindless, tentacled monsters. This thing had intent. Malice.
Athena took a slow step back, her eyes narrowing. She could feel it too—the sheer power radiating from the creature was suffocating. It was as if the air itself had turned hostile, thick with an unseen threat that made her muscles tense involuntarily.
The creature’s grin seemed to widen further, though it was already impossibly wide. The ground beneath it trembled with each subtle movement it made, and the air itself seemed to pulse in time with its slow, deliberate breathing.
Cyrus swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Athena," he muttered under his breath, barely audible, "this is going to be bad."
The faceless, grinning creature took a step forward, and the very world around them seemed to darken slightly in response. Its presence alone was enough to bend reality, and with each step it took, the oppressive sense of dread grew more and more unbearable.
This was no ordinary foe.
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This was something far, far worse.
As the creature loomed closer, its grinning, faceless form emanating pure malice, Cyrus suddenly felt a distinct, rhythmic pulse deep within him—a steady beating of mana resonating through his veins. A similar glimmer of realization crossed Athena’s face as she, too, sensed her mana surge to life. The oppressive aura surrounding them began to waver, faltering for just a moment.
Then, like glass splintering from within, cracks appeared along the creature’s monstrous body. Shadows peeled away, shards of darkness breaking and falling away, revealing something—or someone—hidden beneath. Each piece shattered and dissolved into the air until, finally, the shell of darkness crumbled entirely, exposing the true figure beneath.
Standing before them was a man, roughly Cyrus’s height. His hair was a striking silver, short and sleek, flowing just past his ears, and his eyebrows were a shade darker, matching the intense, stormy silver of his eyes. Those eyes glimmered with flecks of pure white light that seemed to pulse in time with the mana surging around them. His skin was pale, almost as white as snow, but where smooth skin met light, silver scales appeared, seamlessly scattered across his body in intricate patterns. The most prominent clusters of these scales reached across his cheeks, adding an unusual and captivating texture to his face. His form was both handsome and fierce, with a well-built physique and an adventurer’s rugged grace.
Though nearly bare, the remnants of the darkness swirled around him, slowly settling and shaping themselves into wispy black pants, providing him a shadowy, ethereal attire that hinted at the immense power he wielded.
Athena’s response was instantaneous. Without hesitation, she reached out and summoned a surge of mana, casting a powerful buff over Cyrus, fortifying his body and mind. Cyrus felt the boost wash over him, sharpening his focus. His hands instinctively released their grip on his aetheric blade, falling together in a gesture of invocation. His fingers interlocked, forming a sort of lattice as he stretched them back, feeling the subtle shift as his joints began to dislocate. A whisper escaped his lips, the words filled with an ancient, boundless energy.
"THRONE WORLD!" Cyrus shouted, fear slowly setting in. "KINGDOM OF THE SEA OF LIFE!"
The air around him shuddered as an unseen current surged outward, vast and deep as an endless ocean. A salty breeze swept through, filling the space, and for a brief, resonant moment, he was enveloped in the power of his Throne World—a realm of surging tides and life-bearing waters, vast and eternal.
The man facing him narrowed his silver-flecked eyes, a glimmer of anticipation flickering within their depths. He brought his own hands together, pressing his knuckles and thumbs to form a shape that resembled the head of a serpent. His voice, rich and resonant, broke through the silence as he uttered the words of his own domain.
"Throne World…" The man took a steady breath. "Jormungandr’s Jar of Venom…"
Immediately, the ground beneath them quaked, as though the very plane had taken a poisonous breath. Find adventures on freewebnovel
As Cyrus’ throne world surged to life, it began to consume his half of the plane with a force that felt alive, intentional, and boundless. From the white floor, streams of sapphire water cascaded outward in every direction, twisting and curling like sentient rivers, each rivulet brimming with its own quiet power. As they rushed forward, the streams pooled together, forming a vast, swirling ocean, dark and unfathomably deep, glistening with ethereal blues and greens.
The ground beneath them gave way entirely, dissolving into the expanse of a boundless seafloor, adorned with sprawling reefs and mysterious bioluminescent coral that pulsed rhythmically, as if in tune with Cyrus’ own heartbeat. Bright, otherworldly fish darted from shadowed nooks in the coral, their sleek bodies reflecting an eerie, inviting glow as they spiraled around him, filling the air with a steady, hypnotic motion. Strange sea creatures of every imaginable shape began to emerge from the sand and rocks, sensing their master’s intent, their silent gazes trained on the enemy with ancient, knowing eyes.
Above, thick columns of water shot up, spiraling into towering, translucent pillars that circled around Cyrus, creating a fortress of watery walls. At the top of these columns, streaks of bioluminescent light flickered and danced, shedding an eerie glow over the entire domain. Further up, ghostly, serpentine shadows lurked in the gloom, swirling just beneath the surface. Their sinuous forms moved with a predatory grace, vanishing and reappearing as though they were one with the water itself.
As the kingdom continued to spread, fierce currents formed, moving with purpose toward the man across from them. The ocean became an active, aggressive entity, tides crashing forward in pulsing waves that grew in height, twisting with strange currents that seemed to possess a will of their own. Any water that surged toward the man solidified briefly into jagged spires of ice and coral, then melted back into the living sea, the shapes adapting, never remaining static.
And at the center of it all, a maelstrom of darker water began to churn—a bottomless abyss at the heart of Cyrus’ throne world. The Heart of the Abyss roared to life with a deep, resonant hum, its gravitational pull stretching towards the man as if summoning him to its deadly depths. From within, giant shadows stirred, the hulking, coiled shapes of leviathan-like beings waiting to answer Cyrus’ call.
Every part of the throne world pulsed with life, with intent, the entire ocean answering its master’s emotions.