Just then, one of the ship's cannons lowered, aiming toward the earth, primed to fire. Aleksander's eyes widened—the vessels above were unlike anything he had ever seen. But before he could fully grasp the sight, Violet's voice cut through the chaos, closer now than before.
His head snapped toward her. For the first time, the calm mask he wore cracked with concern. In an instant, he conjured a shield of light around Violet, who carried Xavier in her arms, with Anastasia and Teslaine rushing just behind her.
His instincts proved right. The ship unleashed its fury—beams of concentrated energy fell like meteors, striking with unfathomable speed. The earth shook violently as the cannons reduced everything to nothingness. Structures, stone, earth—all erased in an instant, leaving only scorched emptiness in their wake.
And yet, by some grace, Violet, Anastasia, and Teslaine stood unharmed, not a scratch on them. Aleksander remained unscathed as well, his form untouched despite standing in the heart of the blast. He had taken the strike head‑on, and still, he did not falter.
From the smoke and ash emerged Julius, his expression twisted with irritation. Their battle had been interrupted just as it reached its peak. Like Aleksander, he bore no mark of injury, his body whole and unbroken.
What monsters they were. Any other soul would have been obliterated, their bodies torn apart in an instant. Yet these two brushed off annihilation as if it were nothing more than a nuisance.
A new voice rang out from above, dripping with arrogance. A figure descended feet‑first from the heavens, leaping from the ship without hesitation, as though the fall itself posed no threat to their life.
Aleksander's composure shattered the moment he saw the man's face. Rage surged through his veins, consuming every fiber of his being. The calm warrior was gone—what remained was raw, uncontrollable fury. He stared at the one who had stained his life with blood.
His father's murderer.
"Percival," Aleksander growled.
Smiling broadly, Percival spread his arms as if greeting family. "Aleksander! My dear nephew! It's been too long—how have you been?"
"Shut the fuck up," Aleksander snapped, eyes burning with fire.
"Oh?" Percival tilted his head, feigning hurt. "That's harsh. You've wounded me, nephew."
"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" Aleksander's voice thundered, his shield finally breaking apart as his fury consumed it. "Did you come all this way just to die?"
"Not at all." Percival's tone turned playful as he leaned toward Julius, almost casually. "I came to take His Majesty back to my golden city."
"As if," Julius cut in, his voice calm but laced with irritation. "Do not interfere, Percival. I have no intention of ending this battle. Not when I've finally found someone—someone other than Saint Sabestian—worthy of standing as my rival."
Percival's lips curled into a pleading smile, his eyes softening as if trying to coax a close friend. "But, Your Majesty, wouldn't it be better to reclaim your full strength first? Why waste the chance to see his true potential? Surely you'd prefer to face him at his peak rather than here, half‑formed."
Julius fell silent for a moment, clearly annoyed but weighing the words. Finally, with a sharp exhale, he conceded. "Fine. But this will be the last time you ever interrupt my battle." His eyes glowed crimson‑yellow, blazing with killing intent. "Test me again, and you will die."
"Alright, alright!" Percival chuckled nervously, raising his hands.
"I look forward to seeing you grow, Aleksander," Julius declared. "I will return to slumber, to rebuild my strength. In that time, reach your full potential. If you are still alive when I awaken… then we will finish this fight."
The tension between Aleksander and Julius thickened, the air heavy with promises of destruction. But then, a soft, trembling voice cut through the weight of it all.
"Papa…?"
Every eye turned. Teslaine stood frozen, her voice broken, her body shaking. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked at Percival, her father.
"Papa," she repeated, her voice cracking. "Why? Why did you do all of this? What did Xavier ever do to deserve your hatred? I tried—I tried all my life to make you proud. But you never once looked at me."
The battlefield fell silent. Anastasia's heart clenched at the pain in Teslaine's words. Violet and Aleksander stared in disbelief—especially Violet, who knew Teslaine better than most. Her voice trembled. "Did you just say… Papa?"
But Percival only sneered. His tongue flicked across his lips as he gazed at Teslaine, disgust twisting his features. "Don't delude yourself. You've never had the right to call me father. Until you prove yourself of actual worth, don't you dare claim my blood as yours."
His voice turned colder, sharper. "Never raise your voice at me again. You're nothing but a waste of breath. A failed experiment."
Teslaine's heart shattered. The weight of his words crushed her, leaving her trembling. Her knees buckled, and she sank to the ground, tears spilling like an endless flood. Anastasia rushed to her side, pulling her into her arms as Teslaine wept uncontrollably, her cries breaking against the silence of the battlefield.
"You monster!" Violet's voice pierced the air, laced with fury. "How dare you speak to someone like that!"
Percival smirked, replying smoothly, "No need to bother yourself with trash like her, my dear little Violet. You're far too important to the story to waste time defending a disposable background character."
"DAMN YOU!" Violet shot back, her voice raw with anger.
Even Julius raised an eyebrow, visibly taken aback by Percival's callousness toward his own daughter. To him, this man—Percival—was the devil incarnate. And yet, he couldn't suppress a faint smile, amused by the spectacular display unfolding.
Percival murmured under his breath, his fingers brushing a small red device shaped like an omega on his chest. "Prepare the teleportation sequence immediately. And teleport us back."
"Roger!" came a faint, obedient reply.
But Aleksander's aura flared suddenly, radiating like divine retribution, unsettling Percival. "Since you took the time to come all this way," Aleksander said, his fury masked behind a calm, cold demeanor, "I'll have to thank you for making it easier for me to kill you right here and now."
He extended his hand toward Percival and Julius, unleashing a tremendous energy blast of light. The ground beneath shattered violently, trembling under the sheer force of the attack.
Immediately, Aleksander sensed something amiss—they had teleported just in time to evade the strike. Wasting no moment, he unleashed a torrent of light beams toward the ships above.
"You won't escape me."
One beam struck a ship's active defensive shield, instantly shattering it. The blast tore through the vessel, ripping away a massive chunk that crashed toward the earth with devastating force. Flames erupted as the ship struggled to survive.
Before Aleksander could finish them all, the sky ripped open once more, and the ships vanished in an instant, slipping through the wormhole.
"Tsk," Aleksander clicked his tongue, frustrated at their escape.
———
Time passed, and the scene shifted inside one of the ships. Julius walked calmly through the halls, dressed in new attire and draped in a long black royal coat. His hair and eyes had reverted to their original black, and he appeared slightly larger than before awakening his powers.
Every knight present knelt, heads bowed, as the king—no, the god—passed through.
Julius entered a grand, royal room and spotted Percival seated on a golden throne at the far end. Ascending a nearby staircase, he approached another throne—completely black, crafted from a dark metal that absorbed every light.
"Who beat you into this state?" Julius asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed a large bandage across Percival's chest, partially revealed by the unbuttoned white chemise.
"Oh, nothing," Percival joked with a grin, though his pale, lifeless appearance betrayed his pain. His skin was ashen, his eyes drained of life, the atmosphere around him dead like his once vibrant self. "I found myself in an unexpected situation against an opponent far beyond my capabilities, without time to prepare."
"Who could it be?" Julius asked, unconcerned, his fist resting on his shin.
"The current Head Master of the Ivanovich family," Percival replied. "Lord of Light, Saint Graviil, King of Russia."
Julius chuckled. "It seems the Four Great Families still harbor strong leaders even in this era."
"For a monarch to be left in this state is quite amusing," Percival continued. "I never liked relying on my powers to win battles—even against foes weaker or equal to me. Though I could have bested them, I prefer to triumph through intellect."
"It is my greatest weapon, and the reason I have all that you see here. I created everything in this domain. In this world."
"And it will be my main reason for eventually becoming a god, defying the dictates of fate."
Julius chuckled, thoroughly entertained. Percival had become his own form of jester—ambitious, cunning, and endlessly amusing as he carved his path to godhood.
"Did you really come all this way just to torment the new wielder of Excalibur?" Julius asked, an amused smirk playing across his face.
"Yes," Percival replied without hesitation, a spark of mischief in his eyes. "But, of course, I came to see someone far more important to me."
Julius raised an eyebrow. "By any chance, would this being be the one whose ominous aura I sensed before confronting that dragonoid creature?"
Percival's smile twitched imperceptibly. Fading into a mask of feigned ignorance, he asked, "What do you mean, Your Majesty?" He knew precisely who Julius referred to—Jupiter, Xavier's closest friend, whom he also regarded as a brother.
"Don't play dumb with me, Percival," Julius said, calm but threatening. "I know that ominous presence revolves around you. Everything you touch or involve yourself in always carries weight. It would be foolish to come all this way merely to torment an underdeveloped child or watch some nobody."
Percival threw his arms back, finally conceding. "Ahhh, you got me. The presence you sensed was indeed that person. It is only natural for someone like you to notice it."
Julius waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever. I care little for it."
"What matters to me," Julius continued, his voice smooth and deliberate, "is seeing if you, Percival, could truly live up to your words, your ambitions. I will not interfere in your battles against the heroes. I am merely an observer, to see whether you become what you claim to be."
"Is that so?" Percival questioned with a smirk, arching a brow.
"Yes," Julius replied, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
"Then, I will not disappoint." Percival finally answered.
As he spoke, a subtle shift in his demeanor became apparent. His smile twisted into something cunning, sinister, almost predatory. Within the recesses of his mind, he mused, I have made my move now, Origin. Slowly, deliberately, I will extend my reach until what is yours becomes mine.
He allowed a dark thought to linger, savoring it. Let us see how you counter my pawns. Jupiter, Xavier—they will all fall, and not one hero will thwart my inevitable ascension.
Percival's confidence was absolute. He knew Origin was aware of his thoughts, and he did not care. The chessboard of fate stretched endlessly before him: a battle of intellect, strategy, and ideology. God versus mortal, order versus free will, ambition versus restraint.
A mortal like me can see the folly in blind benevolence, he thought, in the notion that free will and love can bring true balance. Only through absolute order, control, and calculated influence can real peace be achieved. Even if it requires removing the illusion of love and freedom itself.
He leaned back slightly, savoring the certainty in his mind. I will win. The pieces move, the board evolves, and I remain several steps ahead. This is inevitable. Origin's throne, Xavier, the heroes—everything will bend to my design. I will break them, shape them, and claim what is destined for me.
The war of minds had begun. The battle for godhood, for dominion, for the ultimate truth, was now underway.