Chapter 47: The Old King

The dimensional sky above the central spire cracked open like a shattering sheet of black glass.

The dark, looming clouds swirling around the pinnacle of the central castle parted, bathed in a suffocating, unnatural crimson glow. High above the highest tower, the colossal entity, the Old King, loomed over the domain like a dark god looking down upon an intruder.

Then, he opened his eyes.

Two blinding pinpricks of deep, blood-red light ignited within the shadows of the spire, burning with an ancient, genocidal intent that made the cold air in Raphael’s lungs instantly turn to ice.

The entity began to descend, stepping through the open void, his boots crushing the atmospheric pressure with every long, unhurried stride. The Old King was clad in a majestic, terrifying set of full-plate armor forged entirely from solidified void energy. It was matte-black, non-reflective, and constantly pulsing with jagged crimson veins that bled dark smoke into the purple twilight.

Meanwhile, on the shattered stone plateau of the mini-boss island, Raphael was on one knee, his chest heaving raggedly. The adrenaline from slaying the Void Drake was beginning to wane, revealing the brutal reality of his injuries. Three cracked ribs screamed in agony, his left arm was throbbing with deep muscular trauma, and his skin was charred by the beast’s corrupted breath.

Vanessa stepped silently up to his side. Her pale face was drawn, her violet eyes showing clear signs of exhaustion after maintaining high-tier gravitational suppression and spatial displacement in a C-Tier domain.

She raised her dark relic-staff, resting its cool, crystalline tip gently against the back of Raphael’s neck.

"Hold still, my Sovereign," she whispered softly, her silk-like voice tight with strain. "My affinity lies with the shadows and the void... my restoration arts are crude at best. But it will close the flesh."

A soothing, pale-violet light flowed from the staff, seeping directly into Raphael’s skin and muscle tissue. It was far from a high-tier holy miracle; the process was raw, burning like liquid fire as it forced his torn muscle fibers to stitch themselves back together at an unnatural speed. Raphael gritted his teeth, suppressing a groan as his broken ribs snapped back into alignment with a sickening, wet crunch.

The deep, agonizing burn faded into a dull, manageable ache, while his lungs expanded fully once more, drawing in air without the stabbing pain in his chest.

"It’s enough," Raphael said, his voice steadying as he pushed himself up off the stone floor to his full height. He rolled his broad shoulders, testing his range of motion. "Thank you, Vanessa."

Vanessa bowed her head slightly, stepping back into the shadows to recover her mana. "Be on your guard, Lord Raphael. Something vast is awakening."

Raphael didn’t need the warning. Every nerve ending in his body was suddenly screaming in alarm. The atmospheric pressure across the entire floating island plummeted so drastically that his ears popped.

He turned his eyes toward the central castle.

The Old King had reached the massive, dark iron gates at the base of the central spire. Standing at nearly eight feet tall, the armored tyrant looked down across the chain bridges, his crimson eyes locking onto Raphael’s towering frame.

Slowly, deliberately, the Old King raised his left hand toward the stormy sky.

WHIRRRRRR-BOOM!

A sound like an atmospheric detonation shattered the silence of the void. High above the clouds, a massive object broke through the purple nebula, burning with an apocalyptic crimson flame. It descended like a falling meteorite, tearing through the air with a deafening, supersonic whistle as it plummeted straight toward the central citadel.

It was a colossal greatsword, over seven feet of jagged, blood-red steel wrapped in crackling dark lightning. The Old King didn’t even look up as the cosmic projectile slammed down toward him. He just kept his left hand raised, his fingers open.

THUN-CLACK!

The massive crimson sword dropped from the sky, its speed decelerating in a fraction of a millisecond as the hilt slammed perfectly into the Old King’s open palm. The kinetic impact sent a violent, crimson shockwave rippling across the entire sky-shattered domain, shattering the stone arches along the castle perimeter and causing the surrounding floating islands to tilt violently in the abyss.

The Old King gripped the hilt, resting the broad, glowing blade over his dark, void-armored shoulder.

He took his first step off the castle threshold, stepping directly onto the massive iron chain connecting the central spire to the forward islands. His voice emerged from beneath the dark, horned visor of his helmet... a distorted, chaotic rumble that sounded like thousands of whispering, agonizing souls speaking in unison, vibrating directly inside Raphael’s skull.

"YOU SMELL LIKE A KING..."

The Old King’s blood-red eyes flared with an intense, savage light as he brought his massive crimson sword down, pointing the tip directly at Raphael’s chest.

"LET’S DANCE."

Before the final echo of the chaotic voice could fade, the Old King vanished.

Raphael’s godlike neural processing speed instantly kicked into overdrive, his silver eyes widening in sheer disbelief. The eight-foot, void-armored tyrant hadn’t just sprinted across the massive iron chain; he had blurred through space itself, bridging a distance of over three hundred meters in the blink of an eye.

CRACK!

The air behind Raphael exploded as the Old King materialized directly in his guard, the massive, seven-foot crimson greatsword already descending in a brutal, horizontal cleave designed to bisect him.

"Sovereign’s Veil!" Raphael mentally roared, throwing every single drop of his newly restored mana into his defense.

He brought the broad, four-inch-thick steel face of the Obsidian-Spine Greatsword up with both hands, reinforcing his stance with his back foot planted deep into the stone.

KABOOM!

The collision sounded like two mountains crashing together.

The kinetic shockwave tore through the plateau, blasting away the corpse of the Void Drake and pulverizing the surrounding stone floor into dust. Even with his superior height, broad frame, and micro-thin layer of high-frequency Veil protection, the sheer, crushing mass behind the Old King’s strike was overwhelming.

Raphael’s boots ripped through the stone floorboards like a plow through soft dirt. He was pushed back thirty feet in a single second, his arms trembling violently under the staggering pressure as crimson lightning leaped from the boss’s blade to his own.

The Old King didn’t halt his assault for even a fraction of a millisecond. He tilted his helmet, his crimson eyes gleaming behind the dark visor with an ancient, mocking cruelty as he pressed his blade down harder, forcing Raphael’s knees to bend.

"WEAK..." the distorted, multi-layered voice echoed directly into Raphael’s brain. "IS THIS ALL THE NEW ANCHOR CAN MUSTER?"

Raphael gritted his teeth so hard a trickle of fresh blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. Under the shadow of his messy dark hair, his luminous silver eyes burned with a cold, terrifying, and unyielding rage.

The soft civilian who cowered in fear was dead. The man standing here was a Sovereign.

Raphael snapped his left hand off the hilt of his greatsword, dropping his grip to draw the heavy Eclipse Battle Axe from his hip in a fluid, reverse-grip motion.

"Shut your mouth," Raphael growled, his deep, baritone voice echoing through the storm.

He drove the high-frequency, mana-infused rear spike of his battle axe directly toward the Old King’s visor.