The Devourer's Dominion

The battlefield was still for a moment, but the tension in the air was suffocating. Aetheron exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling with a quiet rhythm. The cut across his torso stung, but it wasn't the pain that caught his attention. It was the energy. That blade had sliced through more than just his flesh—it had severed something deeper, something within his power itself.

His fingers curled slightly. The mark of the Sovereign pulsed against his skin, its glow flickering like an unsteady flame. Across from him, the leader of the Sovereign's Hunters held his strange, curved blade with practiced ease. His stance was relaxed, but his eyes—sharp, calculating—never left Aetheron.

"You felt it, didn't you?" the leader said, tilting his head slightly. "That cut. It wasn't just your body."

Aetheron didn't answer. He already knew. His abilities had never been stopped like that before. Every power he absorbed, every technique he stole, had always bent to his will. But that blade—no, the man wielding it—was different.

The ground beneath them cracked.

Then, the fight resumed.

Aetheron vanished.

A blur of motion, faster than before, his body a streak of dark energy as he reappeared above the leader, his foot already descending. The force behind it was monstrous, shattering the air with a thunderous boom.

But the leader didn't even look up.

His blade moved, almost lazily.

Steel met flesh.

Aetheron's leg stopped mid-strike, the edge of the blade hovering just an inch from his knee. It hadn't cut him yet, but he could feel it—like a whisper against his skin, ready to slice through more than just muscle.

His eyes narrowed.

He twisted.

His other leg shot out in a spinning kick, aimed for the leader's head. But again, the man shifted at the last second, his movements impossibly smooth, like he wasn't reacting but predicting. The kick missed by a hair's breadth, and before Aetheron could land, the blade flicked upward.

A thin line of blood appeared across his shoulder.

Aetheron landed, sliding back. He barely felt the pain, but the meaning behind it was clear.

He was being toyed with.

The leader adjusted his grip on the blade. "Your power is impressive, Devourer," he said casually. "But raw power alone won't win this fight."

Aetheron's fingers twitched.

Then, without a word, he moved again.

This time, there was no hesitation.

His fist shot forward, but the moment his knuckles neared the leader's face, his entire body flickered—an afterimage. The real Aetheron was already behind him, arm raised, energy crackling around his palm. A blast of sheer force erupted, aimed directly at the leader's back.

A perfect strike.

Except it never landed.

The leader twisted, faster than Aetheron expected, and the moment their eyes met—

Slash.

Aetheron barely saw the movement. A thin, precise cut appeared across his ribs, the sting immediate. But worse than the wound was the feeling—the same strange sensation as before, like something inside him was being cut away.

He staggered back slightly.

The leader exhaled. "You're holding back," he said, shaking his head. "Or maybe… you still don't understand what you are."

Aetheron clenched his teeth.

His body felt… off. The energy inside him wasn't flowing like before. That blade wasn't just cutting his body—it was cutting into his very essence, his abilities.

For the first time in a long time, he felt something strange.

He felt weaker.

The leader's gaze didn't waver. "You devour powers. You take what isn't yours and make it your own. But have you ever wondered—what happens if someone takes from you?"

Aetheron's breath slowed.

His grip tightened.

The air shifted.

Then, he exhaled.

The battlefield trembled.

Aetheron raised his hand, and the space around it distorted. The mark of the Sovereign burned brighter, and the wound on his ribs, though still fresh, pulsed with something unnatural.

"You think I've never lost something before?" Aetheron finally spoke. His voice was calm, steady. "You're not the first person who's tried to take from me."

The energy around him twisted, a dark, swirling force that bent reality itself.

The leader watched him carefully, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Good," he murmured. "Then let's see how much you can really take."

Aetheron smirked slightly.