Their battle raged on. Each clash of their fists canceled the other out, neither landing a decisive hit. They were equals—for now.
Every strike found its counter, a rhythm of destruction between them. Julius smirked, his voice taunting yet calm. "You seem to be well taught in martial arts. Impressive, for someone of your caliber."
Aleksander raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or not."
"It is."
Aleksander chuckled, catching Julius' fist that came flying at blinding speed. His grip tightened as he replied, "You're not bad yourself—better than anyone I've fought before. But make no mistake. You are not my equal. Don't fool yourself."
In an instant, his fist shot forward, blazing like a miniature sun. Julius barely registered the movement before the strike slammed into him, sending him hurtling across the battlefield like a shooting star. He crashed through the ground violently, his nose streaming blood, his jaw mangled and twisted—yet in seconds, his body regenerated, returning to its untouched state.
Aleksander gave him no time to recover. He charged, lightning in his step, and slammed a kick into Julius' side. But Julius latched onto his leg with brute force, twisting violently before slamming Aleksander into the ground. The impact cracked the earth beneath them, yet Aleksander twisted his body mid-fall, whipping a counter-kick across Julius' face that sent him reeling.
Aleksander's leg healed instantly, glowing faintly with Divine Lionheart: Radiant Healing. He surged forward, fists blurring into an onslaught. Each strike was impossibly fast, sharp, and precise, crashing into Julius' flesh like bullets. The blows rained down in silence, merciless and unrelenting. Julius stumbled under the storm.
He tried to retaliate with a desperate punch, but Aleksander slipped past it with ease. A violent stomp shattered the ground, energy boiling upward like a volcanic eruption, throwing Julius off balance. Aleksander's arms flowed with eerie grace, like leaves caught in the wind, before a flurry of invisible strikes pummeled Julius. A two-handed palm strike then exploded into his abdomen with catastrophic force, shattering ribs, twisting organs, and launching him across the ruined city like a fired arrow.
Julius smashed through walls and stone, but through the pain, his lips curled into a grin. He was enjoying this. The battle awakened something deep within him—an intoxicating hunger for combat that burned brighter than any wound.
He finally halted his flight, clawing into the ground until his momentum died. Panting, he scanned his surroundings. "Where did he go?" His gaze flicked sharply, his senses spread wide, but Aleksander's presence had vanished. "Playing tricks with me, are yo—"
Before he could finish, a palm slammed his head into the ground with brutal force. Aleksander loomed over him, ready to follow through—but then froze.
His arm had been severed.
Aleksander's eyes widened as his left arm fell away, cleaved by something unseen. He couldn't sense it. He hadn't even glimpsed it. What had just cut him?
Julius rammed an elbow into his side, breaking free of his grip and vanishing instantly. Then came the pain—slashes tearing into Aleksander's flesh, one across his chest, another across his cheek.
"Did I ruin your pretty face?" Julius taunted as he reappeared, boot connecting with Aleksander's ribs in a brutal kick. He grinned mockingly. "My apologies."
Aleksander didn't flinch. His expression remained calm, his gaze cold. Julius sneered. "Still unfazed, even when you can't see my attacks? Then let's see how much more you can take!"
Invisible threads glimmered faintly across Julius' fingers, slicing through the air as they lashed toward Aleksander. He moved swiftly, dodging most of them, but some carved through his flesh, leaving stinging wounds. Aleksander's thoughts sharpened. I see it now. I was caught off guard before, but if I stay alert, I can sense the threads. Slow enough to dodge... if I remain focused.
Another wave of strings shot forward, but Aleksander's body blurred in and out of sight, slipping effortlessly between them.
"You're fast," Julius admitted, eyes narrowing.
"It's my specialty, Your Majesty," Aleksander replied evenly, his voice steady, his face unreadable.
Julius grinned savagely. "Then let me test your limits!"
In an instant, his threads spread wide, slicing clean through every building around them. Debris filled the air, and Julius pulled each fragment into his control with unseen strings. With a flick of his hand, he hurled the storm of rubble toward Aleksander, his assault relentless.
It showed no signs of slowing. He ripped apart the battlefield itself, molding rubble and steel into weapons with his strings, launching them at Aleksander with lightning speed. Every shard, every fragment became a blade in his hands. Aleksander twisted and slipped past them, shattering the debris with a flick of his fingers, forcing his way closer.
Or so he thought.
His body froze mid-step, locked in place as though space itself had shackled him. Invisible threads coiled tight around his limbs, biting into flesh, cutting deeper with every breath.
Julius strolled forward casually, hands still in his pockets, his tone cool. "You really are a unique child. One of a kind."
Aleksander forced a smirk despite the pain. "What's this? Have you fallen for me? You do speak rather highly of me."
"Of course not," Julius replied flatly, brow raised. "I only offer respect to those who deserve it. The ones strong enough to stand tall before me." His gaze sharpened, voice steady, almost reflective. "Only a handful ever did. Saint Sebastian and his companions. The Sons of the First Creation, the Dragon Kings. Count Dracula, King of Vampires. The Ancient One, master of Heavenly Martial Arts. The King of the Elves… and that miserable, cringing fool, the Dark Sorcerer. Creator of the Art Acts."
He scoffed suddenly, his lips curling. "Tried to force me as his pupil. Pathetic. Sorcery's a flimsy craft. I'd never lower myself to it." A shiver of disgust ran down his spine at the thought.
But then Julius' instincts flared. The strings binding Aleksander began to tremble. His eyes widened as Aleksander, body torn and bleeding, forced himself forward anyway, ripping against the bindings with sheer will.
"What are you doing?" Julius demanded, caught off guard.
Aleksander's voice rang steady despite the blood streaming down his skin. "To stand among those you've named… I am honored, Emperor. But my defiance will echo in your mind—and your soul."
His eyes ignited with violent light, his words burning with conviction. "My name is Aleksander Ivanovich, Emperor Julius. Commit it to memory… before I send you back to your grave, you walking fossil."
For a rare moment, Julius faltered. Amusement flickered in his eyes, mingled with genuine surprise. He smirked, entertained by Aleksander's arrogance—but before he could answer, the boy tore free of the invisible bindings.
Julius' expression hardened, baffled. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You… you crazy bastard. Just like your uncle…"
Aleksander raised his hand, murmuring softly, "Divine Lionheart… Purification."
A blinding radiance erupted outward, swallowing the battlefield. The dead earth turned lush and green beneath the holy wave, charred plants blooming anew in its wake. Julius shielded himself just in time, but agony tore through his arms. The divine light burned him, flesh seared by purity itself.
He staggered back, gritting his teeth. Of course—he knew this pain well. Darkness could consume light, yes, but it was never immune to its grace. Divine power always left its mark. It was why Excalibur had been his greatest bane—the blade forged with Origin's blessing, made to wound him as no other weapon could.
Julius pulled away, forcing distance between them. His arms throbbed, smoldering where the light had struck. But just as he regained his footing, beams of radiance lanced across the battlefield, streaking through ash and smoke. He twisted, dodging narrowly as they seared past him.
And in that moment, despite the burns, despite the pain, Julius smiled—truly, wildly exhilarated.
Aleksander emerged from the distance, his wounds already gone as though they had never existed. Calmly, he strode forward, crimson aura blazing around him. From it, a radiant lion of pure divinity took shape, its roar clashing against the darkness that rose from Julius. In retaliation, Julius' chaotic aura swelled like a storm, twisting into the form of a malevolent titan.
The two locked eyes, ready to resume their clash—until a voice split through the battlefield.
"Big brotha!"
Aleksander froze. His chest tightened instantly. That voice—he knew it. Violet.
He strained to listen, his ears sharpening even as Julius' aura pressed against his own. Violet, Teslaine, and Anastasia weren't far. Yet her tone carried a fear he had never once heard from her before.
"Big brotha! Xavier… Xavier isn't breathing!"
The words shattered Aleksander's composure. His eyes widened as his head snapped toward the sound. What does she mean? Not breathing? What could have possibly happened to him? His thoughts tangled in panic.
Violet's voice came again, more desperate, almost breaking. "I've tried healing and everything! His heart—! It isn't beating! Please, hurry back, Big brotha!"
Aleksander stood paralyzed, his mind reeling with dread. For that instant, he left his guard open. Julius noticed.
A cruel smirk crossed his face as he blurred forward with inhuman speed. "Haven't they told you? Never let your guard down in a life-or-death fight."
His fist drove clean through Aleksander's chest. Blood spilled freely, splattering the earth. But when Julius tried to rip his arm free, he couldn't. Aleksander's muscles clamped tight, locking his arm in place like an unbreakable vice.
Then Aleksander's voice broke the silence, calm yet cutting. "Remind me… what King are you, exactly?"
Julius blinked. "What?"
The grip on his arm tightened, bones cracking beneath the strain.
"Tell me. King of what? Because… is this truly the best you can muster?"
Shock flashed across Julius' face, but so too did exhilaration. His smirk twisted into something wilder, hungry for what Aleksander would do next. He was entertained—more than entertained. From the start, this fight had thrilled him.
Aleksander's left hand shot up, seizing Julius' arm like a lightning strike. His voice turned cold, sharp as steel. "The only reason you were feared as the 'Strongest'… was because I was not yet born. If I had walked this world then, history would have been written differently."
Slowly, Aleksander lifted his right hand. In his palm bloomed a star, radiant and pure, blazing with the grace of the heavens themselves. The growing light cast his eyes into something merciless, devoid of warmth—a beast without heart.
"Origin spared you from my wrath," he said flatly.
The star's power swelled, warping the very air as it forced Julius' body back. Strain tore through his frame as he resisted. "H-how… Blasphemous…" he growled, yet the light only consumed him further.
And then it struck. The star exploded against him like a freight train, hurling his body skyward at blinding speed.
Aleksander turned away, his back to the devastation. His steps were slow, heavy, resolute. His voice, quiet but sharp as a blade, carried across the broken battlefield.
"Divine Lionheart… Punishing Will of the Sun."
A cataclysm erupted in the heavens, the explosion burning so brightly it rivaled the stars themselves. The sky sang with its brilliance, as if the heavens bore witness to Aleksander's judgment.
Just as Aleksander began to walk away, a suffocating miasma bled into the heavens, staining the sky itself. His calm demeanor shattered in an instant. He whipped his head toward the source, every nerve in his body screaming.
For the first time in his life, Aleksander felt true fear—not in his mind, but seared into his soul.
Julius was still standing. And his thrill had never burned brighter.