The ground cracked beneath his steps.
The air warped with each breath.
Kieran wasn't just standing in the center of his domain—he was the domain.
Absolute Takeover.
It didn't roar or scream. It pressed. It buried. It consumed.
Even though I wasn't the target, my knees trembled under the pressure. Essence around me felt like wet cement—unresponsive, sluggish. It took everything I had just to stay standing.
And I was one of the stronger ones.
Amir was leaning on a broken column, sweat dripping from his brow, weapons abandoned at his side. Zach crouched low, trying to funnel essence through his body but gritting his teeth as it fought against him.
Nel's domain flickered—but even she was breathing heavy, her support aura dimmed beneath the overwhelming authority of Kieran's.
"I can barely move…" Deya muttered, staggering beside a fallen wall. "He's not even looking at us."
No—his eyes were on Vlad.
Vlad stood tall, daggers drawn, his Blood Hunt domain fully activated. Raw, wild, violent essence bled from him, twisting through the air in a haze of black-red fury.
Two kings.
Two domains.
One battlefield.
It should've been even.
And for a breath, it was.
Vlad lunged.
Kieran stepped forward.
The world cracked.
Their essence clashed in a storm of raw power—walls shattered, stone peeled like paper. But where Vlad's energy surged in bursts, untamed and chaotic, Kieran's was controlled. Focused. Dominant.
And then—Skofnung tilted the balance.
The blade sang, its glow intensifying as if awakened by destiny itself. It pulsed in time with Kieran's heartbeat, amplifying each strike, each movement—until Vlad's rhythm faltered.
He blocked a slash to the ribs—barely. Spun to counter.
Too late.
Skofnung carved through one of his daggers.
He staggered, coughing blood.
Kieran didn't stop.
Not this time.
Not after Lena.
Vlad launched one last desperate strike, essence flaring unnaturally—everything he had in one final, reckless surge.
Kieran stepped through it. Skofnung moved like judgment incarnate.
And he spoke—not to Vlad, not to us, but to the world itself.
"What fortune grants… it may just as easily take away."
The final slash wasn't wide or dramatic.
It was surgical.
Clean.
Perfect.
Final.
Skofnung tore through essence, through body, through blood and soul. Vlad's eyes widened—not in fear, but realization—as his domain collapsed around him, shattering like brittle glass.
Then his body hit the ground.
The pressure lifted—but the silence didn't.
Kieran Obsidian-Fortune stood alone, Skofnung dripping essence, his domain still pulsing faintly around him.
Not a word.
Not a sound.
Only power.
And for the first time, everyone on that battlefield—friend and foe—understood exactly what it meant to stand at the top.