Chapter XX: The Last Cards
The battle in the sky had become scripture.
Inside the Throne of Macedonia, where banners once whispered the memory of empires and pillars bore the scars of conquest, two figures now stood as sentinels of light—Solarius, crowned by the burning sun, and Lunaris, cloaked in the pale glow of the moon. Between them, slumped in his seat, was Alexander the Great, breathing shallowly, blood dripping from his mouth like a cracked chalice.
Arcade, in the body of Draven, began his slow descent up the stairway toward the throne. With every step, his presence distorted the room—a living corruption pressing against the holy walls of a dying king's dominion.
Alexander's voice trembled from the throne.
"Go… Solarius… Lunaris… don't fail. The world… depends on you."
His head dropped. His body fell limp against the stone.
Arcade paused, gaze fixed on the fallen king. He exhaled with faint amusement.
"To think… you took a meteor to the chest and still speak," he said softly. "Even as a traitor, I'm proud of you, Alexander."
But the warmth ended there.
Solarius stepped forward. His blade glowed with molten intensity. Lunaris followed, his edge reflecting starlight.
"Drink, Longsword."
Solarius raised the blade—and its gleam suddenly died. The sword rotted, crumbling in age. But despite its ancient shell, a blistering heat radiated from its tip.
Arcade's steps halted.
"What… are you doing?" he asked, this time with genuine caution.
Solarius brought the blade down.
SKRRRRRAAAKKKK!!!
The throne room trembled. A diagonal line split the floor, the very air around it liquefying. The space where Arcade had stood was halved and melted in an instant.
But he wasn't there.
Arcade had moved, body blurring into rapid zigzags, dodging the strike. But as he veered left, Lunaris was already waiting—kneeling, blade at the ready. He slashed upward, and the strike connected with brutal force.
Arcade's body was launched, crashing through a marble pillar that shattered into a cloud of dust and stone.
The guardians stepped forward in silence.
But when the dust cleared—Arcade stood again, untouched.
Draven's body had begun adapting to Arcade's celestial Shen. His limits were shattering, even as the form decayed from within.
"This body is slow," he muttered. "I must adjust… sacrifice strength… for speed."
Within his body, his Shen split—like arteries branching into rivers. Speed took precedence.
In an instant, Solarius and Lunaris moved—both appearing at his left and right. Blades drawn. But there was nothing between them.
Arcade was gone.
He now sat on the throne—relaxed, regal, mocking.
Solarius reacted first, raising the Longsword and unleashing a wave of invisible heat. The very throne cracked and split as a burning fissure roared across the ground—but Arcade had already vanished again.
Suddenly—
He was in front of Solarius, expression blank, form restructured again for strength.
He spun a brutal forward kick, aimed squarely at the chest.
BOOOOM!!!
Solarius was sent flying, smashing across the obsidian floor in a series of violent bounces. His longsword clattered through the air—spinning, descending, helpless.
Arcade lunged toward it.
"This sword… it's dangerous…"
But just before his fingers could touch it, Lunaris appeared, his hand wrapping around the blade's hilt.
The sword transformed—its heat replaced with a cold, shimmering light. The blade now mirrored the moon's glow, and Lunaris swung.
SHHHHHRAAAAKKK!!
A lunar slash carved the air. It collided with Arcade mid-air, sending him crashing upward into the ceiling of the throne realm. Pillars cracked, banners burned, and Arcade's body twisted as he plummeted.
Mid-fall, his eyes snapped opened—raging now.
"I tire of this," he muttered.
"Enough."
He halted in mid-air, floating above the fractured battlefield.
Solarius and Lunaris surged upward, both ready to strike again.
Arcade raised a single hand.
"Secret Art: God Hand."
The space behind him twisted into a black void. From it, a gigantic palm emerged—ethereal, divine, the size of a mountain, like the hand of a forgotten god.
SLAAAAAAM!!!
The hand crashed down upon the twin guardians.
The impact obliterated the landscape. The stone beneath them shattered into millions of fragments.
When the dust settled—Solarius and Lunaris were gone.
Nothing remained but a mound of golden sand, slowly blowing away.
Arcade landed softly.
"Even now… this body still cannot wield my true strength," he muttered. "I must return. I must ascend what a pity ."
He landed in the ground and walked to the center of the battlefield, where the Yggdrasil Piece pulsed from within its crystalline vault the exact place the two guardians where destroyed.
He reached into the container and retrieved it its glow casting shadows against his withered host.
"So… this domain still holds me," he said, noticing the boundaries had not faded.
"Very well."
He raised his hand.
An eye opened in his palm—ancient, ringed in inscriptions.
It blinked once and then began to absorb the entire realm. The Throne of Macedonia, the broken throne, the sky above, the fallen spears—all were pulled into the eye, consumed into oblivion.
And then…
Arcade stood once again on the Moon.
He exhaled.
His body drifted downward—beginning his descent to Earth.
Meanwhile… in Greenland
Alarms echoed through the upper chambers of SUHA Headquarters.
Major General Søren Anderse had arrived—accompanied by a full military escort. All around the fortress, walls were being reinforced and heavy plasma weapons deployed on perimeter towers.
Inside the war room, Minister Tenzy stood tense, flanked by officers and digital maps.
A junior soldier burst in.
"Sir! Shen signature just spiked from the Moon base!"
Tenzy's face twisted.
"What do you mean?"
"It matched the anomaly we recorded hours ago, but now it's stabilizing and descending. Fast."
Sir Varion and Sir Dondaya were summoned at once. Tenzy didn't wait.
"Major Søren. You're taking our best hunters . Get to the Moon base. NOW."
The major saluted.
"Yes, sir."
The war wasn't approaching, it was falling from the sky so they thought.