The battlefield had become a storm of destruction.
Chunks of the palace floated in the air, held by the giant's overwhelming power. Maingan moved like a ghost, dodging the debris with impossible speed, but even he could feel the strain.
The giant laughed, its six hands glowing with eerie energy. "You're fast, but speed alone won't save you."
It clapped its hands together—a shockwave erupted outward, blasting everything away.
Maingan vanished before it reached him.
But this time, he didn't reappear immediately.
The giant paused.
Its three eyes flickered, scanning the battlefield. "Hiding, are we?"
It stepped forward, crushing stone beneath its massive feet.
But then—it froze.
The world around it shifted.
The Illusion Begins
The battlefield was no longer the same. The fallen palace, the mountain, the sky itself had changed.
It was dark now.
Too dark.
A thick, suffocating fog rolled in, swallowing the landscape in an abyss of black. The air grew cold, unnatural whispers drifting through the void.
The giant growled. "Tricks?"
It swung one of its arms. The force of the attack should have shattered the fog—but nothing happened.
It wasn't real.
The world had become Maingan's illusion.
His battlefield.
The Shadows Strike
The fog twisted, shapes moving within it.
Then—they attacked.
Shadows emerged from the darkness, silent figures of black that mimicked Maingan's movements.
They struck in unison—slashing, cutting, vanishing before the giant could react.
The giant snarled, swinging wildly, but its attacks hit nothing but air.
One of the shadows appeared behind it—slashing across its back.
The giant howled. The wound was real.
This illusion wasn't just deception.
It was a weapon.
"How…?" the giant hissed, its glowing veins pulsing. "Illusions can't hurt me!"
A voice whispered from the darkness.
"Mine can."
The shadows multiplied.
More and more. Hundreds.
The battlefield had become a nightmare.
The Giant's Struggle
The Nephilim lashed out, smashing through shadow after shadow, but the wounds began piling up.
Maingan was striking from within his own illusion, hidden in the darkness.
The giant couldn't track him.
Couldn't predict him.
Each time it moved, another blade of darkness struck deep.
Blood dripped from its massive frame.
Its regeneration kicked in, but Maingan was relentless.
Faster. Stronger. His attacks came from every direction.
The giant roared in frustration.
"You are nothing but a ghost!"
Maingan Appears
Then—silence.
The fog lifted slightly.
The giant turned, panting, searching.
Then it froze.
Standing just a few feet away—was Maingan.
His eyes glowed fiercely. His presence was unstoppable.
He lifted his hand. The shadows twisted, responding to his will.
"I'm done playing."
The ground beneath the giant darkened.
Its feet sank into the shadows.
It struggled—but couldn't move.
The shadows were pulling it down.
The Nephilim's three eyes widened. It had never felt fear before.
"Impossible—!"
Maingan raised his hand higher.
The shadows swallowed the giant whole.
The End of the Battle
The battlefield returned to normal.
The ruins of the palace were still there. The mountain was still cracked. The air was still thick with tension.
But the giant was gone.
The Nephilim—one of the firstborn of the fallen guardians—had been erased.
Maingan stood in the center of the destruction, breathing heavily. His hands trembled slightly—not from exhaustion, but from power.
Jeruca and Jason stumbled forward, staring at the empty space where the giant had once been.
Jeruca was the first to speak. "What… what did you just do?"
Maingan exhaled, his golden eyes still glowing.
"I sent it somewhere it can never return from."
Silence.
Then Jason let out a low chuckle. "Remind me never to fight you."
Maingan didn't respond. His gaze was on the horizon.
He could still feel something watching.
This battle wasn't over.
Not yet.