The Devourer's Dominion

The wind whistled between them. Aetheron's Dominion roiled, swirling around his feet like a living storm. The darkness pulsed, whispering for him to devour.

But he wasn't stupid.

Lorien had figured something out.

That sword of his—it wasn't just slicing through attacks. It was cutting through his Dominion itself.

Aetheron wiped the blood from his lips, fingers twitching as he focused. His body ached, but he was still standing. That was enough.

Lorien stood across from him, still calm, still unreadable. His blade gleamed, humming with that strange cutting force.

This wasn't the same fight anymore.

Aetheron exhaled, his left hand crackling as abyssal energy coiled around it. His Dominion wasn't useless yet. He just needed—

An opening.

Aetheron vanished.

The ground beneath him cratered as he shot forward, his blade forming in his left hand. Shadows flared, twisting around him, creating a storm of jagged edges, all aimed for Lorien.

Lorien stepped once.

And then—he swung.

A single, clean motion.

Aetheron felt it before he saw it.

His Dominion didn't just break.

It vanished.

The entire front section of his attack—gone.

Like it had never existed.

Aetheron's pupils shrunk.

Then—pain.

A gash carved across his left shoulder, not deep, but sharp enough that he felt the sting of reality itself unraveling around the wound.

What the hell was that?

Aetheron twisted midair, landing roughly on the ground, skidding back. His left arm throbbed, the abyssal energy around it flickering.

Lorien exhaled, lowering his sword. "You're adapting quickly."

Aetheron clicked his tongue. "Yeah? Then tell me what the hell that was."

Lorien tilted his head. "Your Dominion bends reality." His fingers tapped against his hilt. "My blade rejects it."

Aetheron's jaw tightened. "Rejects it?"

Lorien nodded. "Your abyss consumes. But a concept that doesn't exist can't be eaten."

Aetheron's mind raced.

So that's what was happening. It wasn't just a counter. It was a negation.

Lorien's blade didn't block or destroy. It cut things out of existence.

Aetheron took a slow breath.

Then I'll just have to go deeper.

His shadows swirled again, this time slower, deliberate.

He raised his left hand—

And let his Dominion sink.

The battlefield dimmed.

The air grew heavier.

Lorien's eyes flickered—not with fear, but acknowledgment.

Aetheron wasn't attacking this time.

He was pulling.

The space around them began to collapse inward, an unseen force pressing down like the jaws of some colossal beast.

Lorien took a step forward—and staggered.

Aetheron's lips curled. There it is.

"You can cut what exists," Aetheron murmured. "But what happens when I erase it before you get the chance?"

Lorien didn't answer.

Because the ground beneath his feet was already vanishing.

Aetheron lunged.

Lorien moved to counter—but his footing was gone.

Aetheron's blade whipped forward.

Lorien raised his sword—

Too late.

Aetheron's abyssal blade carved across his side, the impact sending Lorien crashing backward into the dirt.

Aetheron landed smoothly, flicking the excess black mist from his blade. His breathing was ragged, his side still burned from the earlier wound, but—

It worked.

Lorien was already rising, his face unreadable as ever. But there was a small shift in his stance. Aetheron could tell.

He'd drawn blood.

And that meant Lorien wasn't untouchable.

Aetheron took another slow breath, rolling his shoulders. "Not bad, huh?"

Lorien exhaled. "Your abyss adapts fast." He glanced down at the wound on his side. "You're beginning to understand it properly."

Aetheron narrowed his eyes. "And you sound way too relaxed for someone who just got cut."

Lorien sheathed his sword. "Because you still don't know what's next."

Aetheron tensed.

Then—the air shifted.

The battlefield, the shadows, everything—

Froze.

Aetheron felt it instantly.

Not just an aura.

Not just a presence.

But something older. Deeper.

His Dominion twitched—and then recoiled.

As if something even greater had stepped into its realm.

Aetheron's heartbeat spiked.

He turned his gaze toward Lorien—

And felt a chill.

Because the moment Lorien's fingers touched his sword—

Aetheron's instincts screamed.

Not to fight.

To run.