The Psychic Tribe's leader, Zephyr, stepped forward, her violet eyes glowing with intense psychic energy. Her hair hovered weightlessly, a sign that her power was already rippling through the atmosphere.
With a flick of her wrist, the floating runes around her spun faster, forming shimmering barriers.
Beside her, Raiden, leader of the Thunder Tribe, stood with his skin sparking with electric arcs. His short, spiky hair was crackling like a storm cloud ready to unleash a tempest. His sharp amber eyes met Ragnar's unyielding gaze.
"You dare break into our stronghold, Ragnar?" Raiden's voice boomed like a thunderclap.
Ragnar simply smiled-a fearsome grin full of sharp teeth. "I dare to break anything I want, little lightning bolt."
Zephyr's hands lifted, and the air warped-sending a shockwave of psychic energy toward Ragnar. The blast was strong enough to twist the metal beams along the walls, distorting the very space in its wake.
But Ragnar didn't flinch.
Instead, he surged forward, breaking through the psychic wave like it was nothing more than a gust of wind.
"You call that power?" he growled.
Raiden lashed out, sending a bolt of pure electricity at him-CRACK-the arc of lightning struck Ragnar square in the chest. The room lit up in a blinding flash.
But when the light faded...
Ragnar still stood.
Barely a scratch.
Zephyr's psychic barriers rippled again, glowing brighter, but Ragnar moved too fast. In a blur of strength, he grabbed Zephyr by the throat and hurled her into the stone wall, leaving a deep crater.
Zephyr crumpled to the ground, her psychic runes flickering weakly.
Raiden launched another lightning strike-faster, more desperate-but Ragnar grabbed his wrist mid-attack. The electricity still rippled through his arm, but he didn't even flinch.
"Pathetic."
With a simple swing of his arm, Ragnar smashed Raiden into the floor-the ground beneath him spider-webbed with cracks. His electric energy fizzled out as he lay motionless, only barely conscious.
They weren't dead.
No-Ragnar didn't kill them.
He crushed them-a deliberate act of humiliation.
So they would know the difference between strength... and true power.
_ _ _
From their cages, the four elemental rulers watched the one-sided battle in stunned silence.
The sheer force Ragnar displayed-how effortlessly he dismantled two powerful tribe leaders-sent a wave of dread through the prison.
And for the first time since being captured...
...they felt fear.
The cages were small-cramped enough that the rival leaders were already forced into uncomfortable proximity. But now-they were practically clinging to each other without even realizing it.
Sylvia, her green skin paling, found herself pressed against Arson-the vines on her arms twitching with stress. "What... what kind of monster is that?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Arson, who had been nothing but cocky and defiant since the moment they were caught, was stiff. His burning gaze was locked onto Ragnar. "I... I don't know," he muttered.
Their bodies were so close now-too close-but neither of them dared move. Not when Ragnar's brutal strength had just reduced two powerful leaders to nothing.
In the other cage, Peggy's golden wings trembled-an uncharacteristic sight for someone usually glowing with confidence. She was practically glued to Glacius now, their sides pressed together.
"Did you... did you see that?" she stammered, her voice losing its usual snark.
Glacius, ever calm, seemed frozen in place-not from his usual icy composure but from something much deeper.
For once, his lips weren't forming a cold retort.
Instead, his voice came out hollow: "I saw."
Their rivalry meant nothing in this moment.
Because Ragnar's strength was something they couldn't match.
The psychic and electric bars still hummed softly, keeping them trapped-but now, the bars seemed almost pointless compared to the true threat standing just beyond them.
And as Ragnar's fiery gaze slowly drifted toward the prison cells-his smile growing even wider-a terrifying thought struck all four rulers at once.