The first chain snapped. A geyser of suppressed Celestial Genesis energy erupted from the hole in my chest, incinerating the Nether-Elf demon instantly as he tried to lunge.
CRACK. CRACK.
I ripped two more links out, the jagged hooks tearing through my muscle. I didn't feel the pain; I felt the freedom. The vacuum was filling. The ocean was returning to the bottle, and this time, the bottle didn't care if it broke.
"Fafnir... is my brother too," I hissed, my voice vibrating with a frequency that made the rocks beneath us turn to dust.
The last chain gave way.
The explosion wasn't light—it was a distortion. For a fifty-yard radius, the "Rules" of the world ceased to exist. Gravity reversed. The air turned into liquid gold. The Leader was thrown back, his obsidian armor cracking like eggshells under the sheer weight of my unfiltered presence.
My Magicore spun. It didn't just ramp—it screamed.
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