Jhonathan rose from the ground.
Slowly.
Silently.
The air around him changed the moment he stood.
Not pressure.
Not aura.
Something heavier.
Something final.
His stare lifted.
And everyone froze.
Even the enemies that had already fallen—
even the ones Goja had twisted into shadow constructs—
all turned toward him.
Then they attacked.
Hundreds of strikes collided with him at once.
Blades.
Energy.
Shadow limbs.
Crushing force from every direction.
But Jhonathan didn't move.
Not even a step.
Every attack hit him—
and simply stopped mattering.
The Mark of the Lich beneath his torn shirt pulsed violently.
Mana overflowed from his body like a breaking dam.
It spilled across the battlefield in waves.
"…Levincia matters," he said quietly.
His voice wasn't loud.
But it reached everyone.
The shadow version of Jhonathan stepped forward behind him.
Its presence was distorted, unstable—formed from fear and rejection.
It raised a massive shadow club.
And swung down.
Jhonathan flicked his hand.
The club shattered from the inside out.
Like reality rejecting its own existence.
The shadow reacted instantly, swinging its blade next.
But the blade passed through him.
Completely.
"…Impossible," Goja whispered.
Jhonathan turned slightly.
"Shadow's Blessing…"
The shadow trembled.
Then collapsed.
As if it had forgotten how to exist.
It disappeared entirely.
Goja stepped back for the first time.
"…So that's your counter…"
But before she could finish—
the battlefield changed.
All of Goja's remaining army paused.
Then—
exploded.
Not physically.
Not magically.
But as if existence itself had been erased in a controlled detonation.
Like an intercontinental-level collapse of reality nodes.
Silence fell over Elenor.
Only Jhonathan stood in the center of it all.
His aura still rising.
Still stabilizing.
Still becoming something the world struggled to classify.
And far away—
Victoria's presence in Takobo reacted for the first time.
Not with confidence.
But recognition.