The Shadow Army roared in unison, their collective killing intent swelling, black mana rising like a storm-tide ready to crash. Then—clap. Jin-Woo's hands came together once,. Instantly, the tide of shadows stilled, the killing aura restrained. His gaze swept across them all with absolute dominance, then turned back to the broken Sith before him.
"That's enough, Igris." Jin-woo voice carried the weight of command, silencing The Shadow army itself. Then, as his eyes fell on Maul, his expression shifted—amusement fading into something far darker.
Jin-Woo's tone turned low, mocking. "You're still clinging to the idea that I'm some hero from your stories? That I'd fight by rules, by honor, like the old Jedi or the Mandalorian clans?"
"Idiot. The moment a battle begins, honor is ash. There is no fairness, even promise. There is only one truth—"
Jin-woo raised his hand, shadow mana bursting outward in a violent surge, the army behind him trembling with hunger. "—when war erupts, there is only the last one standing. That's it."
Those words were a Mockery to Maul's pride., his rage consuming all reason. He ignited his double-bladed red lightsaber, the hum roaring like a beast unleashed. Slipping fully into Form VII: Juyo, Maul's movements became a storm of fury.
He roared, voice tearing from his throat with unnatural force.
"HROUUUAAHHHHHHHHH!"
The [Force Scream] ripped through the air, a sonic wave designed to tear apart Jin-Woo's focus, to distort his connection to the Force.
But Maul's ignorance was fatal. Jin-Woo's power was not chained to the currents of the Force. His body and soul itself was the vessel of immortality—the Shadow Monarch reborn, his existence anchored by the Force Heart forged through ritual. Whether in a black hole, in the heart of a star, or in the void between galaxies, Jin-Woo would remain .
The scream washed over him like Tiny wind against a mountain. His silhouette blurred.
Then—he was there. Right in front of Maul. The Shadow Monarch's sword materialized in his grasp. The [All-Darkness Monarch Sword], a weapon forged of Black mana, its edge gleaming with a purple-black hue, . It pulsed like a living thing, a blade born of the abyss itself. ( img Here )
Maul swung with all his fury, his dual-blade a whirlwind of crimson. Sparks showered as lightsaber met shadow-forged steel. His strikes, precise and honed by years of Sidious's brutal training, slammed down in a ceaseless flurry.
Yet—each blow met Jin-Woo's sword, and each time the Sith's arms trembled harder.
Maul's breath came ragged. His eyes widened. His voice broke through the strain.
"H-heavy… his strikes… are too heavy!"
Jin-Woo advanced, each step pressing Maul back, the Monarch Sword carving arcs that forced the Sith into retreat. The blade slid past Maul's guard, hovering dangerously close to his throat.
The Sith Lord—trained to fear nothing—was struggling, sweat and blood running down his face as he fought desperately to keep that abyssal edge from severing his head.
Jin-Woo's eyes stayed locked on him, merciless, unrelenting. His lips parted, ready to speak . but the warning came. His senses flared. Behind him, twenty Sith cultists emerged from the ruins, daggers drawn,. They lunged as one, aiming for his back.
Yet the Shadow Army did not move. They didn't need to. Their King had spoken thirty seconds before the ambush ever began. "I'll take care of them."
Jin-Woo's shadow mana surged, flooding the courtyard. The darkness itself bent to his will. From the cracked stone beneath their feet, one hundred spears of pure darkness erupted outward in a perfect circle. The sound was brutal.SCHLCK—SCHLCK—SCHLCK. In an instant, every cultist was impaled—daggers slipping from their dead hands as their bodies were skewered mid-motion. The spears continued their arc, a 360-degree slaughter—piercing walls, ripping through stone, and even spearing through Maul's flesh as he stood within range.
The Zabrak snarled in pain, leaping back, body landing hard across the rubble. His grip tightened on his double-blade as he glanced down—his regeneration, once immediate, was slowing. The Sith's eyes widened. His body wasn't healing like before.
Jin-Woo stepped through the shadows, sword in hand, his aura suffocating. "What's the matter?" . "Running out of lives? Or are the flashbacks of your failures playing before your eyes?"
Maul's face twisted in fury. He staggered to his feet, red blades igniting once more, spitting rage to mask his fear.
"I demand you answer me!" he bellowed, spittle flying. "What cursed backwater did you crawl out from—to wield knowledge of techniques hidden or even unknown by the Sith for millennia? No outsider could—"
The rest never left his lips. A single stroke. Jin-Woo didn't even close the distance. He merely swung his sword through the air. The space itself cracked, and with it came an invisible wave—air pressure so immense it tore the battlefield asunder.
The shock hit Maul.SLASH— His body split clean down the center, halved by a force he couldn't even perceive. For an instant, there was silence. Then, with a sickening hiss, his left side disintegrated into dust—erased beyond regeneration. The right half convulsed, veins sprouting desperately, forcing a grotesque regrowth to stitch him back together.
Maul's eyes widened. This was annihilation. He had never felt fear like this.
Jin-Woo tilted his head, the faintest smirk tugging his lips.
"What kind of enemy waits his turn?" "What kind of fool pauses to ask questions mid-battle?" His aura thickened, pressing Maul down like an ocean crushing a sinking ship.
"You should think about your situation, ."
Jin-woo grip on the All-Darkness Monarch Sword tightened, its purple-black edge humming with power. ""Because now—those last words of yours might truly be your very last."
Maul's body writhed as his regeneration sputtered, not failing—but overhealing. His left side was a tangled mess of colliding cells, collapsing in on themselves, leaving him weakened. His eyes burned with fury. I don't have many stock left.. And that's if this damned Jin-Woo doesn't reveal another trick.
But Jin-Woo gave him no time to dwell. In a blur, the Shadow Monarch appeared before him, his All-Darkness Monarch Sword humming as shadow mana bled into the air. Another blade manifested in his free hand, twin edges glowing with abyssal power.
"[Dancing Steel]," Jin-Woo declared.
The world itself seemed to bend beneath the flurry. His dual blades struck in endless rhythm, each slash birthing another, chaining into a storm that devoured space. The moment the first strike connected, the torrent became infinite.
Maul roared, igniting both ends of his double-bladed lightsaber. His Form VII—Juyo, feral and unpredictable—mixed seamlessly with the acrobatics of Ataru. He spun, leapt, and countered, every strike meant to break through.
But it wasn't enough. Jin-Woo's blades struck without pause, without mercy. His form blurred in and out of existence—one moment before Maul's eyes, the next behind him, cutting deep into his back. Sparks of crimson light clashed with waves of purple-black mana, every collision rattling the air like thunder.
Maul staggered under the assault, his body sliced again and again, regenerating just to be torn apart anew. But his rage only grew, each scream carrying into the night.
Their duel became Environment of destruction. Walls shattered as they tore through the Theed courtyards, columns collapsed as their blades ripped through stone and steel alike. Civilians hidden far below could still feel the tremors.
By the time their clash spilled into the streets of Naboo's capital, the city itself seemed to quake beneath them. Speed beyond mortal eyes carried them from rooftop to plaza, from alley to avenue, their weapons leaving trails of red, black, and purple across the night sky. It was an Highspeed battle given form—Maul's fury against Jin-Woo's endless night.
By the time their clash spilled into the streets of Theed, the city itself trembled as if the earth couldn't bear the weight of their war. Maul's dual-bladed lightsaber and Jin-Woo's twin monarch swords tore across the skyline, colliding in a blur of red and black-purple arcs. Each strike shattered stone, each clash splintered rooftops, and each impact carved trails of light through the capital's night sky. The people of Naboo—those who dared peek from their bunkers—saw not a duel, but an elemental storm given flesh.
Desperation twisted Maul's tactics. With a guttural roar, he wrenched the Force through his body, lashing his [Force telekinesis ] ,Not at Jin-Woo but the buildings around him. Cracked durasteel beams groaned, and a tower above Jin-Woo began to collapse, stone and flame cascading down like a mountain avalanche.
But Jin-Woo was already moving. With one effortless sweep, his monarch blade flashed in an arc—first to his side, then behind him—and the collapsing structures were carved apart in midair. The rubble crashed harmlessly into the ground, reduced to falling debris.
Maul snarled—an opening! For the first time in the fight, Jin-Woo's focus staggered, if only for a heartbeat. He lunged forward, his saber screaming with kinetic fury—
And Jin-Woo whispered, "[Blinding Steel]." A gleam of violet-black light seared into existence before him, a horizontal line burning across the air. It split open with a flash, releasing a wave of energy that cut through everything in its path. The street, the plaza, even the night sky itself seemed to divide.
Maul froze mid-stride. His body buckled at the waist, cleaved clean through—upper and lower halves tumbling apart in grotesque symmetry. Behind him, entire rows of buildings split open as though a god's blade had passed through the capital itself.
The Zabrak collapsed to the stone, clutching at his torso, his regeneration sputtering like a failing flame. His flesh struggled to knit together, healing slower than ever before.
Jin-Woo stepped closer, shadows curling off his frame, his tone laced with mockery.
"You've got few lives left, Maul. Is this it? No desperate gambit? Don't tell me… Sidious never taught you how to retreat?"
Maul rasped, voice cracking with both pain and spite "You may win this battle…" "But you've already lost the war, Jin-Woo."
From across the ruined streets, the scattered Sith cultists—those who had survived long enough to slink into the alleys—began chanting in unison. Their daggers carved bloody runes across their own flesh, voices thick with desperation. In a single moment, their bodies convulsed, then burst into dark flame, feeding a ritual older than the Republic itself.
The air warped. The ground split. From the cracks of reality itself came monstrosities. Terentateks—the fabled Jedi Eaters—lurched forth, their fanged maws slavering for prey.
Tuk'ata hounds slithered from the shadows, their burning eyes fixed on the living. Hssiss, the dark side lizards, hissed as their scales pulsed with malignant energy.
And then—the sky itself seemed to split open. Something vast, something obscene pushed through: a writhing, a huge blasphemous form. A Summa-Verminoth—its tendrils spanning kilometers, its size dwarfing mountains—loomed above Naboo, its roar shaking the City.( Img here )
Maul's eyes widened as the enormity of what he'd unleashed crashed upon him. He whispered the only thing his pride allowed: "…oh."