Within the Rivelle Barony, chaos reigned supreme. Weapons clashed with deafening force, explosions tore through the air, and the ground itself convulsed under the strain. Earthquakes and tremors rippled in waves of varying magnitudes and intensities, shaking the very foundations of the barony. Buildings quivered violently, some collapsed into rubble within moments, while others stubbornly resisted the devastation, standing as fragile monuments of defiance amidst the ruin.

Abilities flared to life across the battlefield. Even techniques once considered useless found purpose in this desperate struggle for survival. Streams of elemental light, bursts of Astra, and shattering shockwaves illuminated the cityscape in chaotic brilliance. Screams of terror pierced the air as citizens fled in panic the moment their eyes met the grotesque visages of the approaching monsters.

The Knights, Adventurers, and Mercenaries stationed throughout the city surged into action. They raced through smoke and debris, their figures streaking across the battlefield with urgency and resolve. They did not prioritize killing monsters; their first and only concern was the people. Any citizen in peril became their singular focus. Wherever danger reared its head, these warriors appeared like blurs of salvation, intercepting monsters before their claws could strike, throwing themselves between civilians and death.

Massive crossbows anchored into the earth fired harpoons with violent precision. The harpoons whistled through the air, their momentum immense, skewering multiple monsters in one devastating strike. The ground shook each time the mechanisms fired, metal cords vibrating like thunder as the defense line roared to life.

Amidst the chaos, Asher's blazing form finally came to a halt. He had single-handedly eradicated every airborne monster that dared to invade the skies above Rivelle. Blood rained down in thick, crimson droplets, staining the cobblestones and rooftops, a macabre storm that made it seem as though the heavens themselves were bleeding.

Asher's purple eyes swept downward, scanning for his comrades. He spotted William and Finch, their movements sharp and synchronized. They were holding their own. Satisfied, he turned his gaze away, his attention shifting toward Caldor and Annabelle, who fought only a few meters beside them.

'So that's their bloodline ability,' Asher mused silently, watching as both Caldor and Annabelle manipulated sand with exquisite mastery. The ground itself bent to their will, swirling in destructive patterns. 'It's strong,' he admitted to himself, his gaze flickering toward another direction, where Baron Rivelle and his Knight Commander stood motionless.

Throughout the entire monster tide, neither the Baron nor his Knight Commander had taken a single step. Yet, despite their stillness, no monster dared to attack them. It was as if primal instinct whispered to the beasts that approaching those two meant certain death.

'Why aren't they moving?' Asher wondered, his brow slightly furrowed. 'A single strike from either of them could ease the pressure on everyone.' The thought lingered in his mind, unanswered. 'There must be a reason. I'll find out when they finally make their move.'

He exhaled softly, tearing his gaze away from the distant figures and focusing on the city behind them. Smoke rose like black serpents into the air, thick and suffocating. The once peaceful Rivelle Barony, serene and vibrant only a day ago, had become a graveyard of ruin and flame.

The cries of the terrified echoed through the streets. He could see people running for their lives, chased by monstrosities that had broken through the outer walls. Knights, guards, and mercenaries threw themselves into the fray, desperately trying to rescue as many lives as possible.

Taking a deliberate step forward, Asher's figure blurred, his speed transcending visibility. Footholds formed midair beneath his feet with perfect timing each time he advanced, allowing him to stride across the sky as though it were solid ground. Within seconds, he arrived at the heart of the barony.

He exhaled slowly, steadying his breath. Raising his rapier toward the heavens, he let his Astra veins ignite. In an instant, an immense amount of Astra energy erupted from within him, far more than someone of his Life Rank should have been capable of possessing or controlling. The surge drenched the sky in blinding radiance, painting it in hues of blue and golden.

Asher's complexion paled slightly as he poured every ounce of his Astra outward. The air hummed and crackled violently around him. With a thought, he invoked his lightning element. Utilizing Perfect Astra Control, he kept every trace of energy, every mote, firmly within his grasp. None leaked, none wavered. The power coiled and spiraled above him, wild yet perfectly contained.

The sky transformed into a tempest of incandescent wrath. Purple lightning arced and coalesced, blinding in its brilliance, as if the heavens themselves had descended into madness. The radiance bloomed with apocalyptic fury, swirling around the rapier that acted as its conduit. Thunder rumbled like the growl of an ancient beast, and bolts collided against one another, multiplying exponentially.

Asher then channeled his Star Energy, intensifying the phenomenon even further. The power took on a celestial hue, each strike of lightning resonating with divine finality.

All across the battlefield, everything stopped. Monsters froze mid-charge, their instincts screaming in terror. Adventurers and mercenaries halted in disbelief. Even the Knights, hardened veterans of numerous battles, looked up, their eyes wide as they witnessed the figure standing beneath the storm. A lone human, suspended in the sky, surrounded by the wrath of an electric apocalypse. His rapier pointed toward the swirling cataclysm as though commanding the heavens themselves.

A collective shudder passed through every soul present. A chill crawled down their spines, gripping their hearts in awe and fear alike.

Baron Rivelle and his Knight Commander exchanged a glance, both momentarily stunned. The sheer force radiating from Asher was overwhelming. Even if he bore the title of a Wargrave, such power was beyond reason, beyond anything they could have imagined for someone of Asher's age.

Asher's purple gaze descended upon the monsters infesting the city. His eyes gleamed with cold calculation. Slowly, he swung his rapier downward.

And like the call of a god, the storm above answered.

Colossal flashes split the sky. Hundreds of purple lightning pillars cascaded downward, each bolt roaring with cataclysmic force. The air screamed as they tore through it, colliding with the ground in devastating explosions. Entire streets were obliterated. Buildings crumbled to dust.

But it was not chaos, it was precision. With his Perfect Astra Control and Omni Perception, Asher guided each strike with terrifying accuracy. Every bolt found its mark. Each monster caught in the radius was annihilated, disintegrated before it could even scream.

People shielded their eyes from the unbearable light. The shockwaves hurled them backward like rag dolls, battering against walls and debris. The earth itself seemed to recoil, splitting open in massive cracks that formed abyssal ravines.

The thunder drowned every other sound. Screams were swallowed by its fury. For a moment, even existence seemed to vibrate with divine violence.

Then, gradually, the noise began to fade. Smoke rose in thick, churning clouds, obscuring everything. Slowly, it cleared, revealing the aftermath of apocalypse.

Over two hundred meters of terrain had been completely transformed. The ground glowed faintly, molten and cracked, as though the attack had scorched the very essence of the world. Stones were charred black. The air shimmered with heat.

Silence followed, a silence so profound that it felt sacred. The endless ringing of explosions ceased, and the surviving monsters stood still, trembling. Time itself seemed to hesitate, as if the world of Crymora refused to move forward after witnessing such unrestrained might.

And amidst the ruin stood Asher.

Suspended above the ground, his purple hair danced to the rhythm of the lingering storm. His rapier hung loosely at his side, still humming with residual energy. His posture was flawless, back straight, composure serene. His breathing was calm, controlled, almost casual.

To those who beheld him, he seemed less like a man and more like a god, one who had momentarily descended to remind the world what true power looked like.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: We are currently ranked 34th on the Golden Tickets ranking... Let's climb higher, shall we?

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