The elder sprinted toward him like the wind. Margoth directed his sword at him, but the elder leaned aside, dodged it, and continued his charge. Raising his hand, rocks shot up beneath Margoth, trying to ensnare him, but he leaped away and began to run around the arena, the rocks chasing, trying to catch him. The sword returned, spinning like a rotor behind Margoth, slicing the rocks that tried to reach its master.

But the elder's speed was immense. He reached Margoth and tried to kick him, which Margoth evaded with an acrobatic flip in the air. The elder unleashed water from his hand, pushing Margoth away. Margoth quickly regained his balance and landed, only to find the elder was on him again, launching a series of punches. Margoth skillfully blocked them, but the elder's kicks were as swift as the wind. Margoth blocked some, but most found their mark.

He called for his sword, which raced to its master. The elder jumped back, dodging it, and exhaled fire toward Margoth. The sword spun at a tremendous speed, intercepting most of the fire, but some flames slipped past the blade and continued toward Margoth, who had to run to evade them. The elder directed water under Margoth's feet, turning the ground to mud. Margoth lost his balance and nearly fell, but he leaped high. His sword swooped beneath him, and he landed on it with strange poise. The sword flew him away from the mud and lowered him to the ground.

As soon as Margoth turned, he saw the elder sprinting toward him once more. Margoth's four swords were still struggling to break free from the rock dome, but their time was almost up. Margoth looked at the sheathed sword at his waist, briefly considering drawing it, but he knew doing so would be an admission that the elder was stronger than him. He dismissed the thought, deciding to stall until his four swords were free.

The elder released a huge amount of water from his hands and breathed fire into it, turning it into a thick mist that engulfed the battlefield. Margoth could see nothing. He realized he was an easy target for the elder and had to escape if he wanted to survive. He ran to the right, his single sword following and spinning around him to push the steam away.

But Margoth was suddenly met by the elder's fist coming out of the mist, hurtling toward his face. Margoth raised his hand to block the blow, but it knocked him backward, sending him tumbling onto his back. As he tried to stand, he saw the elder's foot descending toward him. He quickly rolled his body to the right, muttering, "Stubborn old man."

Margoth directed the sword toward the elder, spinning like a saw. Minoth raced away, the sword chasing him. Just then, two more of the four swords broke free. Margoth rejoiced at the return of some of his 'children,' and his heart settled. Minoth saw this and knew he was in great peril. He conjured more steam and coated the ground with water, turning it into slick, unrunnable mud.

Margoth pierced the dense fog with a keen eye and glimpsed a body standing far off. He sent two swords streaking toward it, and they plunged into the chest. The body fell and dissolved. Margoth smiled, certain he had struck the elder. He hurried to inspect the body but slipped on the mud, losing his balance and falling. As he tried to stand, he found rocks surrounding his body on all sides. He saw the elder ambush him from behind, his fist encased in rock as hard as iron, like the material from his dome. Margoth knew the fallen body was just a decoy—a rock statue the elder created to deceive him—and that this punch would crush his skull.

He commanded his swords to return, but it was too late. His single remaining sword was desperately trying to cut the rocks encasing him, managing to free only his hand. Just as the sword was about to free his leg, the elder descended, his fist crashing down. Margoth was lightning-fast. He drew his last sword—made of crimson iron from another planet—and brought it up to block the elder's punch, absorbing the impact. Before the elder could strike again, the two newly freed swords shot forward and stabbed Minoth in the body.

The elder Minoth dropped to his knees, blood pouring from his wounds and his mouth. He knew he was defeated, that he had failed his people in their war, and that they were now under Gladious's complete control, to do with them as he wished. He grieved deeply, tears streaming down his face. He wished he had simply killed Margoth and died alongside him, believing the war's fate would have been different. His last hope was that Menora had escaped with Omar to the humans, who would protect her from this cruel destiny.

The fog dissipated. The people of Atlantis were fighting Gladious's men with fierce courage, and the battle was currently a stalemate. However, one of the Astra noticed that King Minoth was wounded and screamed in terror:

"The King is hit! Protect the King!"

A number of Astra soldiers turned, racing toward their King, their hearts burning with rage. Minoth looked at them with pity, knowing their certain fate against Margoth, who stood and sheathed his sword. The remaining blades freed themselves and began to hover behind him in attractive harmony. Margoth's two swords exited Minoth's body. Margoth looked down at him, bowing with a show of respect:

"I have traveled many planets, and few have ever forced me to draw my final sword. You truly deserve to be King of this land. You have my complete respect."

The elder fought to stay alive for one more minute. The words were choked in his chest: "Know this: at your current level, you cannot touch Gaia. He will not only force you to draw your last sword, he will break it over your head. And know that my people will never submit to you and your schemes that have shattered our beautiful planet."

The soldiers charged Margoth, who dismissed them with a casual wave, sending his swords to intercept and kill them without even looking. The blades spun and flew, tearing through the air, cutting and stabbing anyone who entered their range.

Minoth paused, took a deep breath that filled his lungs, and roared his final command:

"My children! Shatter the New World and build a better one on its ruins! Do not let this dark world pull you into it, as it has done to some of your brethren across the universe! And never despair after I am gone, for the Great God is with us! Do not forget that the Crystal of Life is with us to build a brighter future for the universe, and this rabble seeks to frustrate and destroy us so we do not fulfill our destiny!"

Margoth chuckled. "So you know!"

The elder smiled, his blood watering the earth beneath him. "Of course, I know. Gaia told me everything so I would join him, but I knew his method was not the right and best way to fight you. That's why I split from him... He is a fool. He thinks he can defeat the entire universe with his machines alone... But your New World will collapse just as it began, for it is built on injustice and blood."

"Your son will fall soon, just as others have before him. No one will stop the might of the New World... What you see as injustice is a necessary step to crush the supremacy of the Lunix over the universe and replace them with us. By destroying the last Lunix throne, we will begin the New World, reaching the End of History and the End of Ideology. One ideology will then govern the entire universe, spreading peace and ending meaningless strife and wars. But before that can happen, some wars and killing are unavoidable."

"And do you truly believe that any rational being would accept your contaminated, distorted ideas?"

"That is why we will work to change the identities of beings. We will plant our ideas in the new generations who will grow up knowing nothing of this conflict. They will submit to the will of the mightiest and greatest without question. They will celebrate our ideas, welcoming them with cheers and praise, attacking all that is old and rejoicing in all that is new. As for the current generations who resist, we will break their resolve and force them to submit, for they are ignorant fools standing in the way of the dawn of a new era and a New World."

Margoth realized Minoth was no longer speaking. He looked down and saw the smile still on the elder's face. He had died sitting on his knees. Margoth grasped his body, eased it to the ground, and pulled a book from his pocket. He began reading some religious hymns, saying while his swords killed everyone who tried to approach him:

"May your sinful soul rest in peace. May the Lord forgive its error and its ignorance."

After an hour of horrific fighting that terrified the women, children, and elderly—anyone with a heart or a listening ear—Margoth and his troops managed to subdue the people of Atlantis by breaking their defenses. Margoth immediately began searching for Menora. He ruled the people of Atlantis with a repressive military dictatorship that granted no freedom to anyone who considered rebellion. He conscripted children, women, the elderly, and men alike, sending them out on ruthless patrols to search for Menora. He promised immediate death and execution to anyone who tried to hide any information about her location.

In this desperate time, anyone who found a clue to Menora's whereabouts concealed it from Margoth and his soldiers. Despite all the temptations Margoth offered to the people of Atlantis to hand over Menora, their exceptionally high morals—unmatched in the universe—made them refuse to betray the daughter of King Minoth, who had sacrificed his life for them. Without him and his daughter, they would not have survived all this torment.

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