The air in the canyon was not merely hot; it was acidic, heavy with the sulfurous aftertaste of dragon fire and the metallic tang of impending violence. The canyon walls, towering strata of red and grey rock, seemed to lean inward, suffocating the space between the two titans.
Acnologia, the Black Dragon of the Apocalypse, stood in his human form, though the distinction was becoming increasingly academic. His skin was a tapestry of tribal blue markings that pulsed with a rhythmic, lethal light. But his eyes—those chaotic, slitted pupils—were fixed on one point.
They locked onto the black and silver blade resting in the hand of the man across from him.
The Dragon King's gaze drifted to his own left side. The sleeve of his dark cloak hung limp, fluttering in the updraft caused by his own rising energy. He remembered the cold bite of that steel. It was the only thing in four hundred years of slaughter, of bathing in the blood of dragons and eating their souls, that had successfully parted his flesh from his bone. The stump of his missing arm throbbed with a phantom pain, a searing neurological echo of the day Blake Corvus had defied the natural order of the world.
"That sword..." Acnologia hissed. His voice did not sound human. It sounded like two tectonic plates grinding together deep beneath the earth. "I will shatter it. I will grind it into dust, and then I will force you to inhale the filings until your lungs bleed."
Blake did not flinch. He stood perfectly still, his long black coat billowing softly, though there was no wind around him. The chain of the evolved Tensa Zangetsu dangled from the hilt of his daito, clicking softly against the guard.
"You talk too much for a King," Blake said. His voice was not loud, but it cut through the ambient roar of magic like a razor. He rotated his wrist, the blade carving a lazy circle in the air. "You're slower than you were on Tenrou Island, Acnologia. Is the weight of that missing arm throwing off your balance?"
It was a cheap provocation, a tactical jab meant to cloud the enemy's judgment with rage. It worked better than intended.
Acnologia's rage transcended logic. It boiled over, liquefying his composure. The ground beneath his feet detonated. He didn't cast a spell; he didn't weave magic. He simply pushed off the earth with such cataclysmic physical force that the bedrock shattered into a spiderweb of cracks stretching for a hundred meters.
He was a blur of blue and black, closing the distance in a fraction of a heartbeat. His remaining hand, formed into a clawed gauntlet of scales, swiped for Blake's throat.
Blake didn't block. He knew better than to test his physical strength against a dragon in a static contest.
"Soru."
The word was barely a whisper. Blake vanished. The sound of air displacing rushed in to fill the vacuum where he had stood a millisecond prior.
Acnologia's claw tore through the afterimage, the wind pressure alone gouging deep furrows into the canyon wall behind where Blake had been. The Dragon King didn't pause. His instincts, honed over centuries of hunting, screamed at him. He spun, his heavy cloak whipping around like a tail.
Blake reappeared in the air above and behind Acnologia, gravity seeming to have lost its hold on him.
With a sonic boom, Blake launched himself downward, using the aerial foothold to accelerate Tensa Zangetsu into a falling guillotine strike.
Acnologia looked up, his teeth bared in a feral grin. He didn't dodge. He raised his remaining arm, coating it in a dense layer of Dragon Slayer Magic.
CLANG.
The sound was not of steel meeting flesh, but of a meteor striking a planetary shield. The shockwave flattened the surrounding rock formations, turning boulders into dust instantly.
Blake's blade dug into the magic guarding Acnologia's forearm, sparks of black and blue energy showering the battlefield.
"Is that it?" Acnologia roared, his strength overwhelming. He shoved his arm upward, throwing Blake back into the air. "I AM THE DRAGON KING!"
Acnologia opened his mouth. The air in the canyon screamed as he inhaled, sucking in the ethernano from the atmosphere. A sphere of blinding blue light coalesced in his throat—a roar capable of erasing islands.
Blake tumbled backward in mid-air, righting himself with a twist of his hips. He saw the light building. He knew he couldn't tank it, and dodging might expose the allies he had left behind miles away.
"Kami-e: Slime," Blake murmured, his body suddenly going limp, relaxing every muscle fiber to ride the currents of the air rather than fight them.
The roar fired. A beam of pure destruction, a solid column of blue energy, tore through the canyon.
Blake didn't move away from it; he moved around it. His body contorted unnaturally, bending like paper in the wind. The heat of the blast singed the edges of his coat, but the beam missed his vitals by millimeters.
As the beam passed, Blake solidified instantly. He kicked off the air again—Geppo—and flashed continuously around the dragon, creating a dozen afterimages.
Acnologia swept his gaze around, confused by the lack of magical signature. "Stop hopping around like a flea!"
"If you can't catch a flea," Blake's voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere, "what does that make you?"
Blake appeared directly in front of Acnologia, low to the ground. He drove his heel into the earth, stopping his momentum instantly.
"Shigan."
He thrust his index finger forward, not to pierce, but to impact the center of Acnologia's chest plate.
Thud.
The finger struck the scales. It didn't penetrate. It didn't even leave a scratch. The scales of a dragon were harder than diamond, impervious to blunt force trauma or piercing attacks that lacked spiritual reinforcement. Blake had expected this—it was a test.
Acnologia looked down at the finger pressing against his chest, then up at Blake's eyes. He laughed, a low, rumbling sound. "Human martial arts? Against me?"
He backhanded Blake.
Blake saw it coming. He raised Tensa Zangetsu to guard, reinforcing his arms with Tekkai (Iron Body) to prevent his bones from shattering upon impact.
The blow connected with the flat of the blade. Even with the sword and the Iron Body technique, Blake was launched. He flew backward like a cannonball, smashing through one pillar of rock, then another, finally embedding himself deep into the canyon wall.
Dust and rubble rained down, burying him.
Acnologia didn't pursue immediately. He flexed his hand. "Disappointing. I expected the man who took my arm to have more than parlor tricks."
The pile of rubble shifted. A burst of black spiritual pressure exploded outward, vaporizing the stones.
Blake stepped out. He wiped a streak of blood from the corner of his mouth. His coat was torn, revealing the black shihakusho underneath. His eyes, however, were burning with a cold, calculated intensity.
"Just calibrating," Blake said, spitting a glob of blood onto the dusty ground. "Your scales are tougher than I remember. Physical force alone won't work. Navy techniques are useless for offense."
He raised Tensa Zangetsu. The blade began to vibrate, emitting a low, mournful hum.
"But this..." Blake said, his aura changing. The air around him grew heavy, pressing down on the canyon floor. "...this isn't physical force."
The black blade suddenly erupted with a chaotic aura of red and black energy. It wasn't magic. It was Reiatsu—spiritual pressure—condensed into a physical form.
"Getsuga..."
Acnologia's eyes widened. He recognized the threat. He lunged, desperate to close the distance before the attack could fire.
"...Tensho!"
Blake swung upward. A crescent moon of obsidian energy tore through the ground, rushing toward the dragon.
Acnologia didn't dodge. He opened his mouth again. "Magic does not work on me! I eat magic!"
He clamped his jaws onto the leading edge of the Getsuga Tensho. He bit down, intending to devour the energy.
But the moment the spiritual energy touched his tongue, Acnologia gagged. His eyes bulged. This wasn't Ethernano. It wasn't magic born of the earth's atmosphere. It was raw, condensed soul power. It was abrasive, violent, and foreign to his digestive system.
It exploded in his mouth.
BOOM.
Acnologia was thrown back, smoke billowing from his jaws. He coughed, hacking up black smoke. He hadn't absorbed it; he had taken the damage.
"What... is that taste?" Acnologia snarled, wiping soot from his lips. "It tastes like death."
"It's the taste of your defeat," Blake retorted.
He didn't give the dragon time to recover. Blake kicked the air, triggering Geppo three times in rapid succession to gain altitude. He was now looking down on the Dragon King.
"Time to get serious."
Blake gripped his sword with both hands. His arms turned a shiny, metallic black as he coated them in Busoshoku Haki (Armament Haki). He flowed that Haki into the blade, turning the already black steel into something that absorbed the very light of the sun.
Acnologia roared and leaped, abandoning his human form's restraint. His body twisted, bones cracking and expanding. Wings erupted from his back. Scales thickened. In seconds, the human was gone, replaced by the colossal black dragon.
The Dragon swiped a claw the size of a bus at the tiny hovering figure.
Blake used Soru, vanishing from the path of the claw and reappearing directly above the dragon's neck.
Blake fell, driving his sword downward.
"Mountain Splitter!"
The blade connected with the scales on Acnologia's neck. This time, the Haki-infused steel bit deep. It didn't just impact; it flowed into the scales, bypassing the outer durability and striking the softer tissue beneath (Ryou).
Acnologia shrieked—a sound that shattered windows in towns miles away. A fountain of dragon blood sprayed into the air.
The dragon thrashed, his massive tail whipping around with the speed of a whip crack.
Blake couldn't dodge in time. He used Tekkai again, hardening his muscles to the density of steel, and crossed his arms.
The tail slammed into him. Tekkai held his body together, but the kinetic energy was too much. Blake was spiked into the canyon floor, creating a crater fifty feet wide.
Acnologia hovered above, blood dripping from his neck, his eyes burning with murder. He opened his maw, and the sky began to darken. He wasn't charging a roar this time. He was summoning the Eternal Flare.
Thousands of stars appeared in the daylight sky, raining down beams of destructive magic.
Blake lay in the center of the crater, his body screaming in pain. He looked up at the apocalyptic rain approaching.
"Okay," Blake wheezed, standing up shakily. "Playtime is over."
He sheathed Tensa Zangetsu.
The move confused Acnologia. Was he surrendering?
Blake spread his feet shoulder-width apart. He took a deep breath, centering his spirit. He thrust his left hand upward, fingers splayed wide toward the descending destruction.
"Anti-Magic Field..."
The atmosphere around Blake distorted. All color drained from the world, leaving it in shades of monochrome grey.
"...Null Zone."
A sphere of colorless energy erupted from Blake, expanding outward at the speed of thought. It washed over the crater, up the canyon walls, and into the sky.
The moment the Null Zone touched the falling stars of the Eternal Flare, they didn't explode. They didn't deflect. They simply... ceased.
It was as if someone had unplugged the universe. The magic dissolved into nothingness.
The Zone kept expanding until it hit Acnologia.
The dragon halted in mid-air. The magical buoyancy that kept his massive bulk afloat vanished instantly. Gravity, a law he had flouted for centuries, suddenly remembered him.
Acnologia plummeted.
He crashed into the canyon floor with the weight of a falling mountain. The impact shook the earth, but there was no magical explosion, no shockwave of ether. just the brutal, wet thud of meat hitting stone.
Blake stood in the grey silence. The air felt dead, hollow, and devoid of the vibrating energy of the world.
Acnologia scrambled to his feet. He tried to summon his power, tried to call upon the Dragon Slayer magic to heal his neck, to crush the human.
Nothing happened.
"What have you done?" Acnologia's voice was smaller now, stripped of its magical resonance. It was just a biological growl. "Where is my power?"
"In this space, magic is a myth," Blake said, his voice flat and terrifyingly calm. He began to walk toward the dragon. "You aren't a King here, Acnologia. You're just a big lizard."
Acnologia roared, a sound of pure primal fear and rage. He realized he was cut off. He reverted to his human form—smaller, faster, a target harder to hit.
"I don't need magic to kill a human!" Acnologia screamed. He lunged, his physical speed still immense. He aimed a punch at Blake's head, moving faster than the eye could follow.
Blake activated Kenbunshoku Haki (Observation Haki). The world slowed down. He saw the intent behind Acnologia's punch before the muscles even fired. He saw the trajectory, the anger, the desperation.
Blake simply tilted his head to the left.
Acnologia's fist passed by Blake's ear, the wind of it ruffling his hair.
Blake stepped in, inside the dragon's guard. He didn't draw his sword yet. He clenched his fist, coating it heavily in Armament Haki until it shone like obsidian.
"You rely too much on your immunity," Blake whispered.
He drove his fist into Acnologia's stomach.
CRACK.
It wasn't a magical explosion. It was the sound of ribs snapping. Acnologia bent double, saliva flying from his mouth. For the first time in an age, he felt true physical pain.
Blake spun, his leg whipping around. He used the motion of the kick solely to generate momentum, hooking his heel behind Acnologia's head and slamming the dragon's face into the dirt.
Acnologia scrambled back, gasping for air. He looked at Blake with wide, terrified eyes. "You... you monster."
"I'm the monster?" Blake asked, tilting his head. "You slaughtered families. You burned islands. You called yourself a God."
Blake drew Tensa Zangetsu. The sound of the blade leaving the sheath was the loudest thing in the silent, grey world.
"Stand up," Blake commanded.
Acnologia stood, shaking. He grabbed a massive boulder next to him, his physical strength still intact, and hurled it at Blake.
Blake didn't cut the boulder. He used Soru, vanishing and appearing standing on top of the rock as it flew through the air.
He leaped off the rock, descending toward Acnologia.
Acnologia tried to swat him out of the air. Blake used Kami-e, his body becoming fluid, twisting around the desperate hand.
He landed softly behind the Dragon King.
"You have one arm," Blake noted coldly. "Let's even the odds."
Blake swung Tensa Zangetsu. A clean, precise horizontal cut.
He didn't use a magical beam. He used pure swordsmanship amplified by Haki.
Acnologia screamed as his right achilles tendon was severed. He dropped to one knee.
Blake moved again, a blur of motion. He appeared on Acnologia's left side.
"This is for the world you broke."
Another slash. A deep gash opened across Acnologia's chest.
The Dragon King was panicking. He couldn't fly. He couldn't blast his way out. He was being dissected. He tried to scramble away, crawling on his hands and knees through the dust.
"Fight me!" Blake roared, his calm facade finally cracking to reveal the burning fury underneath. "Show me the strength that ended the Age of Dragons! Don't just die like a coward!"
Acnologia stopped crawling. The insult pierced through his fear. He was the King. He turned, his eyes bleeding madness.
"I WILL KILL YOU!"
Acnologia lunged, putting every ounce of his remaining vitality into one final charge. He ignored his severed tendon, ignored his bleeding chest. He aimed to tackle Blake and crush his skull with his bare hands.
Blake watched him come.
"That's better," Blake whispered.
Blake sheathed his sword again. He lowered his stance.
The air pressure around Blake began to drop. The Haki radiating from him became so dense that the grey ground beneath him began to crack and pulverize.
A blast of red lightning arched out from Blake, slamming into Acnologia. It didn't stop the dragon's charge, but it slowed him, weighing down his spirit, forcing him to fight through a mental ocean of molasses.
Blake gripped the hilt of his sword.
He triggered Soru one last time, but combined it with the explosive propulsion of Geppo directed horizontally. The speed was blinding. He didn't just move; he teleported.
He met Acnologia's charge head-on, passing directly past the dragon.
For a split second, they stood back to back.
Blake was in a low crouch, his hand on his sword hilt. Acnologia was frozen in mid-lunging posture.
"First Form..." Blake whispered.
He stood up slowly.
"...Void Draw."
Acnologia's body convulsed. A dozen invisible slashes appeared simultaneously across his torso, erupting in geysers of blood. The sheer speed of Blake's movement had allowed him to cut the dragon twelve times in the span of a single heartbeat, sheathing the blade between each strike.
Acnologia collapsed to his knees, wheezing. He looked down at his chest, ruined and mangled.
"Why..." Acnologia gurgled. "Why can't I... heal?"
"No magic," Blake reminded him, turning around. "No rapid regeneration. You're mortal now."
Blake walked up to the kneeling King. Acnologia looked up, his vision blurring. He saw death approaching, not as a reaper, but as a man in a tattered coat.
"Any last words?" Blake asked, resting the tip of his blade on the ground.
Acnologia grit his teeth. "I... am... the Dragon... King..."
"And I," Blake said, raising the sword, "am the one who wakes you from your dream."
The sky above them began to swirl. Even in the grey Null Zone, the sheer density of Blake's spiritual pressure was forcing a reaction from the environment.
Blake raised Tensa Zangetsu high above his head. The blade turned a deep, shimmering violet-black. He poured everything he had left into the steel. His Haki, his physical stamina, his resolve.
Thick bolts of black lightning began to arc from the blade to the ground, disintegrating the rocks they touched.
"Secret Art..."
Blake's eyes glowed a piercing crimson.
"God-Slaying Void: Dimension Decapitation."
He swung.
It wasn't a fast swing. It looked almost slow, heavy with the weight of destiny.
But the blade didn't just cut the air. It severed the space itself. A rift of absolute nothingness followed the path of the steel, a tear in the fabric of reality that bypassed durability, bypassed scales, bypassed bone.
The edge of the sword met Acnologia's neck.
There was no resistance.
The Dimension Decapitation ignored the hardness of the dragon scales. It simply decreed that the space occupied by the neck and the space occupied by the head were no longer connected.
Blake completed the follow-through, the sword tip hitting the ground with a soft clink.
Silence returned to the canyon.
A thin, black line appeared around Acnologia's throat.
The Dragon King's eyes went wide, then blank.
Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the head of the strongest being in history began to slide. It slipped off the shoulders, falling forward.
THUD.
The head hit the ground, rolling once before coming to a stop at Blake's feet.
The body remained kneeling for a moment longer, a gruesome monument to a fallen era, before toppling sideways into the dust.
Blake stood there, his chest heaving. He was exhausted. His Haki was drained.
He raised his left hand and snapped his fingers.
The Null Zone shattered like glass.
Color rushed back into the world. The red of the rocks, the blue of the sky, the red of the blood. The hum of magic returned to the air, vibrating against Blake's skin.
But the Dragon King did not move.
Blake looked down at the corpse. He didn't feel joy. He didn't feel triumph. He just felt heavy.
He took a cloth from his pocket and wiped the black blood from Tensa Zangetsu. He inspected the edge—pristine.
He sheathed the sword with a sharp click that signaled the end of the war.
Blake rose out of the canyon, ascending toward the cliff edge where his allies were waiting.
He didn't look back. The Age of Dragons was over.
The Age of Blake Corvus had begun.