Both Adam and Sunny stared at the dome of darkness.
Sunny's face grew paler than ever. The screams surrounding him were driving him mad.
Managing seven avatars while protecting his sister was already pushing him to his limits.
"We don't have time. We need to act fast," Adam urged.
Sunny nodded grimly.
Adam closed his eyes, unable to watch the unfolding devastation. His father joining the war was the second-worst possible scenario - the first being Nether himself taking action. If Nether intervened, humanity wouldn't last a minute.
That's why Adam couldn't understand why Nether remained passive. He clearly had the power to end the war instantly, yet he held back.
This hesitation was fortunate, as Adam had no contingency for Nether's direct involvement. If Nether moved before Sunny achieved Supremacy, it would mean certain defeat.
Sunny approached the Vile Thieving Bird, his decision made. What use was freedom in a destroyed world?
Standing before the hanged bird, Sunny turned to Adam. "What do I need to do?"
"When you kill it, I'll use my authority to return your fate and True Name to you," Adam explained. "I'll then enter your soul sea to halt the process. Since your fate won't fully merge with you, you'll have a chance to sever your strings of fate."
Sunny listened intently before dryly remarking, "I might as well kill myself now."
Adam's expression remained unchanged. "You weren't joking?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" Adam countered.
"Did you even hear yourself? Sever my fate? That's insane!"
"Even fate isn't immune to death," Adam said calmly. "Your soul is a death realm where the departed reside. With death's power, cutting an already damaged fate is possible."
Sunny took a deep breath. "How would I even touch the strings of fate, let alone cut them?"
"Weaver's Mask," Adam answered simply.
"Tell me the truth, Adam - are you trying to kill me?" Sunny demanded.
"While inside your soul, I'll bear most of the burden. Your only task is to sever your fate's strings."
Adam's gaze remained steady. Sunny studied his eyes, then chuckled darkly. "Fine. You want to gamble? Then I'm all in."
***
Within the dome of darkness, Nephis barely blocked another flying sword with Blessing. Gritting her teeth, she surveyed the carnage around her.
Most of the Fire Keepers were already dead - some impaled by weapons, others bleeding out from grievous wounds. Nephis could only watch helplessly as everyone she knew perished.
She looked up at Raphael and summoned her white wings, launching herself toward him with a desperate horizontal slash. The attack proved futile - Raphael caught the blade barehanded without sustaining a scratch.
As Nephis struggled to free Blessing, Raphael's lifeless eyes met hers. Before she could speak, his fist drove into her abdomen with devastating force, pulverizing her internal organs. Though she healed instantly, Raphael continued his assault, grabbing her wrist with one hand while pummeling her mercilessly with the other.
Nephis's body turned blue from the brutal beating, her bones shattered and organs pulped. Just as Raphael prepared another strike, he suddenly stopped and looked right.
A sword came streaking toward him, slicing through space itself - yet it froze midair, blocked by some invisible force.
Raphael released Nephis and leaped back as another blade materialized where he'd been standing.
Before him stood a man clad in silver-steel armor with a red cape, the left side of his abdomen completely gone, blood gushing from the massive wound. Such an injury would have killed anyone instantly, but Anvil didn't even glance at it.
In his right hand, Anvil held Nephis's broken body, while his left hand crushed a stone statue's head to rubble. His face remained as emotionless as ever as he observed Nephis beginning to heal herself. Seeing this, Anvil tossed her onto one of his floating swords and guided her downward.
He turned his gaze to Raphael, who returned the stare in kind. Silence stretched between them - then Anvil struck first.
His sword cut through the space between them, reaching Raphael in an instant, yet stopping abruptly midair. Unfazed, Anvil attacked again with multiple swords, but none found their mark.
"Nothing," Anvil muttered.
Somehow, his opponent had harnessed the power of Nothing - the same force the gods had once used to seal the Void. When Anvil tried to cut through the Nothing between them, he failed. It was impossible to cut Nothing because there was literally nothing to cut.
'If I can't cut Nothing, then I'll cut what summons Nothing.'
He pressed his attack, analyzing his opponent's secrets with each strike. Gradually, understanding dawned - this power was familiar. After all, his great citadel had once belonged to the Daemon of Imagination.
With this realization, Anvil slashed at Raphael, bending the world to his will as he severed the very concept of imagination. This time, his cursed sword didn't stop - it cut through the concept itself and into Raphael's chest. Not content with this, Anvil thrust another sword forward, piercing Raphael's heart completely.
The blade tore through flesh and shattered bone, destroying the vital organ. Anvil stared at Raphael and demanded, "How?"
Despite the fatal wound, Raphael moved at light speed, punching through Anvil's armor and flesh. Now a gaping hole existed in Anvil's chest with Raphael's hand buried inside.
"I'm cursed to never die," Raphael intoned solemnly.
Withdrawing his hand, Raphael watched as Anvil collapsed. Turning away, he resumed his slaughter across the battlefield.
Anvil hit the ground hard, coughing blood onto earth already soaked red. As he struggled to rise, someone stepped on him.
The man above him smiled. "I truly thought you'd died here. Thankfully, you didn't." His grin widened into something manic as laughter bubbled forth.
"You're in quite a state, dear father."
***