As the battle continues between Nyxar and Morvayne,

The storm raged on around them, Valhira’s eternal chaos serving as both backdrop and adversary to the brutal clash. Nyxar, cloaked in shadows, stood against the might of Morvayne Acheros, the Grim Reaper, who exuded an aura of unrelenting death. The stakes were higher than either could fully comprehend: the Pendant of Omnipotence, a relic forged by the Primordials, lay at the heart of their conflict.

Morvayne’s gaze burned with determination, his hollow eyes glowing faintly beneath his hood. “You don’t understand the consequences of your mission, Nyxar,” he said coldly, his scythe humming with anticipation. “The pendant’s power will corrupt even you. Leave now, or I’ll ensure you’ll never reach Valhira.”

Nyxar smirked, his voice calm but edged with menace. “And let you destroy it? No, Reaper. That pendant doesn’t belong to you, nor to Luceran. It’s mine to retrieve.” With a flick of his wrist, tendrils of shadow coiled around him, forming a barrier against the storm’s unrelenting fury. “But if you think you can stop me, try.”

With that, Morvayne lunged, his scythe slicing through the air in a deadly arc. Nyxar dodged, the blade narrowly missing as it carved a deep gash into the rocky terrain. Shadows erupted in retaliation, surging forward like sentient creatures to engulf the Reaper. Morvayne countered, his scythe glowing with the mana he had absorbed from Arthur.

“You gods cling to your power,” Morvayne growled, deflecting the shadows with a single swing. “You’re no better than Luceran, deluded by the illusion of control. But I’ve seen the truth—the world needs none of us.”

As the fight intensified, Morvayne activated a power he had gained after killing Arthur. This unique ability allowed him to steal any skill he had witnessed being used for more than five minutes. With a glint of malice, he activated “Night Weakling,” a devastating ability originally belonging to Sirus, the god of dreams, illusions, and space. The effect struck like a silent tidal wave, crashing into Nyxar’s mind and rendering him unconscious mid-strike. Shadows around him flickered and recoiled as their master’s control faltered.

Morvayne advanced, his scythe gleaming, and landed a brutal blow to Nyxar’s chest. Blood spilled, staining the ground beneath him as Nyxar collapsed. The Reaper loomed over him, ready to deliver the final strike.

But Nyxar, with the last vestiges of his will, awoke. His eyes burned with a fierce light, and he summoned his ultimate move: “Dark Palace.” The storm around them dimmed as Valhira itself seemed to fall away, replaced by a void of absolute darkness. Morvayne’s expression shifted to stunned disbelief as he found himself suspended in nothingness.

“W-What is this place?” Morvayne’s voice, usually so composed, wavered with unease. “Why can’t I feel my power? Just… what is this void?!”

Nyxar’s voice echoed through the darkness. “This is the end, Reaper. The domain of my will, where even death is powerless.”

Before Morvayne could respond, enormous shapes emerged from the darkness—Divine Beasts forged from the shadows. A monstrous creature with one body and two gnashing heads loomed behind Morvayne, its teeth sinking into his shoulders. He roared in agony as another beast, a colossal snake-like entity named Zerethar, coiled around him, its fangs sinking into his abdomen. Morvayne screamed as the creatures tore at him, their relentless assault threatening to unmake even his form.

For a moment, it seemed Nyxar’s gambit had succeeded. But in his focus, he overlooked one crucial detail: Dark Palace only suppressed demonic power originating from hell. Morvayne, who had absorbed Arthur’s divine mana, still retained the strength of the sun god.

Through sheer will, Morvayne summoned Sunburst, an ability fueled by the divine energy he had stolen. The explosion erupted with the force of hundreds of cataclysmic blasts, shattering the void and sending the beasts flying. The darkness shattered like glass, and the storm of Valhira returned in full fury.

Nyxar hovered above, watching the devastation below, but Morvayne was already upon him. Using Flash Step, the Reaper closed the distance in an instant, delivering a mana-reinforced kick that struck Nyxar with unimaginable force. Every bone in Nyxar’s body cracked under the impact, sending him hurtling into the ground below.

Morvayne descended, his scythe raised high. Without hesitation, he drove the blade into Nyxar’s throat, the sharp edge cutting cleanly through. In a single motion, he ripped Nyxar’s torso apart, leaving the god of darkness broken and bloodied. As Nyxar’s life force began to fade, Morvayne knelt beside him, his own body trembling from the wounds inflicted by the beasts.

“You wouldn’t die here in this unknown, meaningless place,” Morvayne muttered, his tone oddly calm. “At least have the decency to serve a purpose… for me.” He smiled faintly, a cruel and knowing expression, as he began absorbing Nyxar’s mana and life force. The Reaper’s wounds slowly knit themselves closed, his strength returning with every stolen fragment of power.

In the distance, the storm continued to rage, a harbinger of the chaos yet to come.