Tensura : Vingthor

(Dagruel's Point Of View)

Dagruel's immense frame stood unmoving, a mountain of power and wisdom forged over countless millennia.

His blue eyes, heavy with the weight of eons, were fixed on the impossible sight before him.

He was old—far older than most beings could fathom. He had seen epochs rise and fall, civilizations grow and crumble, and the world reshape itself again and again.

Once, long ago in the Age of Myth, he was nothing but chaos incarnate: a giant born of purest, condensed Magicules from the heart of the world.

Back then, his very existence was calamity, a force of nature that reduced mountains to rubble and kingdoms to ash, seeking only to conquer, fight, and grow stronger.

It took the Creator of the World, Veldanava, to subdue him. The Star King Dragon, in his boundless wisdom, had not destroyed him but split his existence into three—himself, his brother Glassord, and their once-malevolent sibling Fenn.

Though time had mellowed him, though he had turned his back on the savagery of his youth and vowed to protect the Heaven Tower with Glassord to atone, that primal essence still burned in his soul.

It still whispered of destruction, of battle, of the joy found in clashing powers.

It was one of the reasons he got along so well with the storm dragon veldora

But this—this was beyond anything he had ever seen.

Before him, three entities clashed with forces that defied reason. Guy Crimson, the Primordial of Red, his once-enemy-turned-peer, was shrouded in a storm of crimson power that warped the air itself.

Rudra, the Hero of the Beginning, radiated divine might, his sword glowing with a blend of [Hero's Haki ] and [Holy Ki]

And then there was him. The stranger, the storm-bringer.

Dagruel's gaze locked on the figure wreathed in lightning and fury, Waves of energy rippled across the battlefield, shattering the earth and sky alike.

The sheer pressure of his presence suffocated lesser beings, reduced them to dust, or warped them into abominations.

And Dagruel, who had faced gods and monsters, who had seen the birth of Demon Lords and the fall of heroes, could only gape in stunned silence.

"This... this is completely ridiculous," he muttered, his voice a rumble that echoed across the battlefield.

Beside him, Luminous Valentine—the Nightmare Queen, daughter of his closest friend, Twilight Valentine—stood with her hands raised, layers upon layers of barriers shimmering into existence around them.

Her expression was a mix of fury and disbelief, her usual cold confidence shattered.

"Ridiculous doesn't even begin to describe it," she hissed, her voice shaking ever so slightly.

Dagruel could feel the ground quaking beneath his feet, not from the strikes of the battle but from the sheer magnitude of the energy unleashed.

Each clash of power threatened to tear apart the fabric of the world itself.

His pride as a Demon Lord, as a True Giant, as one of the oldest beings in existence, screamed in protest.

And yet, his common sense—his vast well of experience—could only surrender to the undeniable truth:

This was beyond him.

The chaos raging before them wasn't something he could step into and hope to survive. It wasn't something he could even hope to comprehend fully.

Dagruel's hand tightened into a fist, his nails digging into his palm.

And yet, as he stood in the shadow of these three monsters, he felt small.

"What are you, really?" Dagruel murmured, his eyes narrowing on the storm-wreathed figure.

With the exciption of the star dragon King The man's aura burned brighter than any True Dragon he had ever known, and his words carried the weight of judgment itself.

This was no mere skirmish. No simple battle of wills.

This was the storm that would redefine the world.

The three combatants moved like carnage incarnate, each unleashing powers that could reshape the world .

Guy Crimson, stood at the heart of a maelstrom of malevolence.

In his hands, the Death Streak —a forbidden magic of unparalleled destruction—had transformed into a weapon of deathly black light.

Its dark glow seared the very fabric of existence, penetrating matter and spirit alike.

The core's properties were nightmarish, capable of rewriting genetic sequences and obliterating life on a fundamental level.

Even he, with his nigh-immortal body, and [Magic Nullification] he knew that direct exposure to such a force could unmake him.

And yet, there Guy was, wielding it with reckless glee, his laughter echoing across the void.

The dark light tore through the cosmos, twisting the laws of reality and birthing monstrosities from those unlucky enough to survive its touch.

He shuddered. It wasn't just death—it was evolution through annihilation, a power that could create as easily as it destroyed.

Rudra, the Hero of the Beginning, refusing to be outdone by his rival.

With Deva in hand, his ultimate blade radiated celestial might, channeling his [Hero's Haki ] and [Holy Ki]

"Let me provide you a prayer to the divine. I hope and desire for the power of the stars themselves Listen to my appeal and overcome all in your way! Nova break !!"

His incantation, delivered with commanding authority, summoned forth Nova Break, a cataclysmic blast of holy energy that burned through space and time.

The light that erupted from Deva was divine, a radiant torrent that erased everything in its path—matter, energy, even souls.

It was a purging fire, an unstoppable force of judgment that left nothing but silence in its wake.

The swing of his blade sent shockwaves through the stars, shattering barriers and disintegrating entire celestial formations.

He felt his scarred back throb, a phantom pain reminding him of a past life. He knew this technique. Nova Break. The very move that had ended his former self, Ashura.

And yet, even that seemed tame compared to the third combatant.

The storm-wreathed man, the interloper whose name he still did not know, was a force beyond comprehension.

His every movement brought the roar of a cyclone that dwarfed anything Dagruel had ever encountered.

Lightning danced around him, not as mere bolts but as world-ending phenomena, arcs of power that tore apart dead worlds and reassembled them into weapons of devastation.

The storm he commanded had grown to apocalyptic proportions, a supernova-sized vortex that consumed everything in its path.

Chunks of dead planets, ripped from parsecs away, were drawn into the cyclone, their matter infused with electrified fury and launched as comet-like projectiles.

Each one carried the power to obliterate stars, their cores burning with energy that melted worlds.

Dagruel's ancient pride as a True Giant faltered as he watched the storm obliterate the laws of nature.

The sheer raw power and precision of the man's control over the storm were beyond what even the storm Dragon could have managed in his prime.

"Veldora..." Dagruel whispered, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips. "You've lost the title of 'Storm Incarnate.' "

It was true. Whatever this man was, he had surpassed even the chaos of Veldora's storms.

The sheer magnitude of the cyclone was a testament to a level of mastery that bordered on divinity

"This is the end of reason," he murmured. "The birth of a new Age ."

Beside him, Luminous Valentine was still pouring her strength into barriers, her expression twisted in frustration and awe.

The layers of magic she conjured shimmered like glass, struggling to hold back the tidal waves of energy radiating from the battle.

"Even this won't hold," she growled, her voice laced with rare fear. "If this continues, there won't be a world left to protect."

And all he could do was watch, a silent observer to the storm that would reshape existence.