Parts of the Academy and Sector 2 shook with unrelenting, bone-rattling intensity as Magnus and Luminous’s fists collided with world-ending speed.
The first impact sent shockwaves so powerful, the air itself seemed to scream. The ground split, the sky cracked, and the very atmosphere trembled as if it couldn’t bear the force.
Then came another collision.
And another.
Each blow was more violent, more destructive than the last.
Their fists met with impossible speed, thunder and gold flashing in rapid succession, the earth trembling with every strike.
The clash was so fast, so devastating, it seemed as though reality itself might collapse under the weight of their power.
But what was even more terrifying—more incredible—was that all of this, the deafening quakes, the flashes of lightning and golden light, was already in the past.
For in that single, breathless moment, Magnus and Luminous had already clashed billions of times. Their fists moved faster than thought, faster than time itself.
A storm of lightning raged on one side, while a blinding golden inferno roared on the other.
Luminous’s movements were impossibly fast, a streak of molten gold cutting through the sky.
Every punch he threw left the air crackling with heat, as if the very fabric of space was burning from the intensity of his strikes.
Magnus, on the other hand, was a storm incarnate. His body surged with electricity, arcs of lightning dancing wildly across his frame.
Each movement crackled with thunderous power, the air around him charged with a deadly, electric hum. His fists moved like lightning bolts, faster than the eye could track, each punch tearing through the air with a booming roar that left shockwaves in its wake.
The two paragons clashed at a speed beyond comprehension, their fists meeting in mid-air with explosive force.
“I will burn you out of existence, Magnus!”
Luminous’s voice boomed across the sky, the golden light enveloping his body shining brighter. The large grin on his face had long since disappeared, replaced by intense anger.
He had planned a surprise attack on the Ravenstein estate, intending to destroy their home and kill their next paragon.
The death of Avalon would be devastating for the Ravenstein family. It would mean that after Magnus’s death, there would be no paragon in the Ravenstein family for a brief but significant period.
It would be their end, no doubt about that. However, Magnus had shown up before he could execute his plan!
It should have been impossible, never supposed to happen! It was noon. The sun was high in the sky! There should have been no one—no one in the human domain—as powerful as him! And yet, here was Magnus.
Not only was he matching his speed and punches, but he was also dealing him massive damage!
And what infuriated Luminous even more was the fact that, since the battle had begun, Magnus hadn’t uttered a single word.
Luminous’s anger peaked, massive amounts of steam erupting from his nostrils.
He muttered under his breath, his aura shifting,
“Red Sun.”
Instantly, the blinding golden light that surrounded him began to change. The brilliant radiance pouring from his form dimmed, replaced by a deep, ominous crimson.
Above, the sun itself seemed to heed his command, its bright yellow hue morphing into a blood-red giant, casting a terrifying crimson glow across the entire horizon.
The temperature in the air skyrocketed, far beyond anything imaginable. The clouds evaporated in an instant, leaving the once blue sky barren and scorched.
Suddenly, a weapon began to take form in Luminous’s hand—an enormous warhammer.
The hammerhead glowed with an intense, molten red, its surface shimmering like the heart of a dying star.
Luminous raised the weapon high, his eyes glowing with fury, the intensity of his presence now unbearable.
“I’ll show you the true meaning of power. I’ll reduce everything you’ve ever touched to ashes.”
With a single, blinding motion, Luminous swung the warhammer downward.
However, since the battle began, Magnus’s expression hadn’t shown even the slightest change. His cold, icy demeanor remained unshaken, as if the chaos and destruction around him were nothing more than a passing storm. Now wasn’t an exception.
“MAGNUS, NO!” Oberon’s voice tore through the sky, frantic and desperate.
He and a group of figures sliced through the air, racing toward the boundary between Sector 1 and 2, where the titanic battle raged.
But it was already too late.
Magnus’s lips parted, and with an unsettling calm, he uttered three words that made the heavens rumble:
“I am lightning.”
And in that moment, the world itself seemed to bend.
Magnus’s body began to radiate an ethereal glow, electricity sparking and rippling across his skin like a living storm.
For those at the Master+ rank, mastery over an element meant they could wield its raw, primal form, controlling the molecules in ways only a few could comprehend.
At that stage, one could manipulate the very molecules of the element with intricacy, an achievement many spent their lives pursuing.
As a Grandmaster, one would need to become so connected with their element that the molecules themselves felt indistinguishable from their own essence.
This profound bond led to the creation of a domain, a manifestation of power so terrifyingly vast that entire armies would bow before it.
Within this domain, the element bent to the Grandmaster’s will, and they could control every particle within a set radius with absolute authority.
But Magnus stood beyond that.
The Paragon rank.
Here, Magnus wasn’t just in control of the lightning molecules. He wasn’t merely forming a relationship with the element.
He had become it.
His mastery of lightning had reached such an unimaginable level that there was no separation between himself and the element.
His very being fused with the energy that coursed through the skies, the electric force that breathed life into the storm.
He was lightning.
In that instant, Magnus’s body vanished, dissolving into pure, crackling energy. Bolts of lightning erupted from where he had been, weaving through the air as if the world itself had become part of his domain.
The entire sky, from Sector 1 to Sector 2, lit up in a blaze of electricity. The clouds swirled, and the atmosphere quaked as Magnus’s presence engulfed everything, his form scattered across the heavens.
This was the true power of a Paragon. There was no need to form a domain—his domain was the entire world.
Every lightning molecule in the atmosphere, in the earth, in the farthest reaches of the sky, was Magnus.
He was no longer bound by the limitations of radius or distance. Wherever lightning existed, he existed.
In that moment, a spear appeared in his hands. It wasn’t forged by human hands but materialized from pure lightning.
With a single motion, Magnus thrust the spear forward.
It ripped through the sky with impossible speed, a streak of pure lightning that tore apart the air, leaving a sonic boom so loud it shattered the ground below.
The spear collided with Luminous’s warhammer mid-swing.
The impact was so powerful that it sent ripples across the horizon, splitting the clouds and shaking the very foundations of Sectors 1 and 2.
