Varion walked towards him, step by step. "You think pain is power? You think death makes you strong? Let me teach you about absolute power."
Klaus raised a hand.
The wind around him sharpened, folding into blades so fine they hummed.
"I'm not here for a lesson," he said coldly. "I'm here to erase your bloodline."
---
They clashed.
And the world broke.
Klaus's fist shattered through Varion's guard, caving in the side of his face. Blood splattered, sizzling in the fire. Varion retaliated with a sweep of flame, carving Klaus's flesh open from shoulder to thigh.
Klaus didn't scream.
He grinned.
He drove his knee into Varion's gut—ribs cracked audibly—then spun, wind-wrapped heel slicing across Varion's throat. Blood sprayed. A shallow cut, but humiliating.
Varion roared, erupting into a dome of fire. Klaus was consumed, engulfed.
And still he emerged, skin burned, eyes alight with madness.
"Come on, Monarch," he spat. "Let me taste your real power."
Varion snarled and summoned a spear of solid flame, thrusting it forward—
Klaus caught it with bare hands.
Skin sizzled. Flesh peeled.
But he held it.
And then he pulled.
Varion was yanked forward into a savage headbutt that split his brow. Blood gushed. Before he could stagger back, Klaus rammed his fist into Varion's jaw—then again—and again—breaking teeth with every strike.
Fire coiled around Varion's body in desperation.
Too late.
Klaus roared, wind wrapping around his arm like a serpent, and punched clean through Varion's armor, ribs crunching inward like paper.
Varion gasped.
Klaus leaned in, blood dripping from his chin. "I want you to feel every second of your end."
The Ignar Estate—once a monument to fire-forged royalty—was no longer recognizable. Marble towers melted under cascading flame. Iron walls shattered from sonic bursts. Trees that had stood for centuries were reduced to ash in seconds. The ground itself quaked like it feared what fought above it.
---
BOOM!
Klaus's elbow drove into Varion's spine—bones cracked like dry branches.
CLANG!
Varion spun mid-air and unleashed "Solflare Judgment", a column of white-hot fire erupting from his palm that carved a kilometer-long trench in the ground.
Klaus was caught dead-center.
He didn't scream.
He vanished—reappearing behind Varion mid-burn.
"You missed," Klaus whispered.
Then he drove his heel into Varion's temple.
CRACK!
Blood misted. Varion spiraled through three stone pillars before exploding against a statue of his grandfather.
The statue of Highlord Ignar—a relic of divine heritage—was obliterated by Varion's body. The ancestral symbol of the house lay in crumbled ruin, much like the bloodline it bore.
---
Varion rose, half his face charred, armor glowing red-hot.
He snarled, flames gathering in both hands.
"Solar Apex: Thronebreaker Cannon."
He fired.
A beam of pure infernal essence, wide as a cathedral gate, vaporized everything in its path.
Klaus took it head-on.
The ground was gouged open like the jaw of a titan. The beam burned down to bedrock, carving molten veins across the countryside.
Villages ten miles away felt the shockwave. Birds fell from the sky. Livestock burst into flames. People dropped to their knees, praying for the gods to intervene—never knowing they were watching from the clouds in fear.
---
Klaus stepped from the crater, skin flaking off, body torn—
—but grinning.
"Too slow," he said.
And with a gust, he vanished again.
Then—BLADES OF WIND exploded outward.
Varion bled from dozens of lacerations before Klaus tackled him through the Ignar Hall, leveling the ancestral throne room.
The seat of House Ignar—carved from obsidian and dragonbone—shattered into shards under their collision. The ancestral fire that burned in the hearth for 900 years was extinguished in a single breath.
---
Klaus ducked a wild punch and countered with a devastating strike to the liver.
THUD!
Varion coughed blood.
"Still not done?" Klaus murmured, grabbing his face and slamming it down into molten stone.
Varion roared, his body erupting in solar flame. He hurled Klaus off him.
He rose to his full height, chest heaving. Then—he raised his arms to the sky.
"Eternal Pyre: Monarch's Realm."
The world changed.
Flames rained from above. The air ignited. The ground melted into rivers of lava. The sky turned a murderous orange—as if the sun itself had dropped to kiss the earth.
And then… the estate was gone. Nothing remained. Only fire. A realm of absolute combustion. No air. No mercy. Only flame. The power of a Monarch unshackled. The power of a god.
---
Klaus dropped to one knee.
Eyes bloodshot.
Breathing ragged.
But his voice never wavered.
Varion bellowed from above.
"You're a peasant! You've earned death, not defiance!"
He dove like a meteor.
BOOM!
CRACK!
THOOM!
Each strike was a cataclysm. Mountains crumbled. Rivers boiled dry.
Each blow shook the continent. Forests hundreds of miles away ignited. The ocean near the Ignar coast receded as if terrified. The tectonic plates beneath their feet began to shift. The world itself protested.
---
And then—from the inferno—Klaus stood.
Charred. Split open. Barely alive.
But his eyes were alive with violet.
With wrath.
With purpose.
He raised his hand—and lightning pulsed.
"Let's burn your reality to the ground."