Chapter 357: Unstoppable Force Vs Immovable Object

Words : 1582 Updated : Oct 9th, 2025

Chapter 357: Unstoppable Force Vs Immovable Object Malik reached the gardens... And there he was. Cyrus. The Sultan. Standing there in pink robes, white trim, smile as charming as the devil himself. He was surrounded by a small crowd of his people, priests, nobles, even kids. Laughing, talking, and thanking him. One of them, a woman, a merchant perhaps, handed him a basket of fruit. "For your family, my Lord!" He chuckled warmly. "You are too kind. May the heavens bless your trade." A boy tugged on his robe. "L-Lord, t-thank you for—" "Do not force yourself, little one." Cyrus crouched down and ruffled the kid’s hair. "Study hard... One day, this city’s Court will need you." Huh... It was like watching an actor on stage. But Malik didn’t move to end the play. His golden eyes were locked. Drilling through him. Waiting. And waiting. Until eventually, Cyrus’s eyes casually floated through the crowd. They scanned for a new presence, a threatening one. They met Malik’s gold. In that instant, Cyrus revealed a real, genuine flinch. His charming mask cracked, and his entire body stiffened. "I have to go." FLASH. A burst of white blinded them. Sound sucked out of the world. The crowd vanished, and the city blinked out of existence. When the light faded, the two of them stood alone... Atop a rocky hill. Around them was nothing but dry wind, broken boulders, and a canyon so deep it felt like it went straight into the underworld. They were so very far away from any sign of human life. Cyrus, hands behind his back, turned to Malik with the same grin, acting like nothing had happened earlier. "Well... I’ve gotta say..." His grin pulled wider. "I didn’t expect you to come visit. You gave me no notice or invitation... bit ruuuuuuuuude, no~?" He chuckled, looking off at the canyon. "...And killing my snake? Coooooome on. I spent years grooming that one. I get that you were a little annoyed after I told him and a certain someone a few things, but you can’t blame me~. I haaaaad to do it! I couldn’t help myself." His eyes flicked back, his words no longer... sweet. "By the way... where’s your little owl gone? Hmm?" His grin turned wicked. "Don’t tell me... you lost him?" And that— That was the wrong question. Malik erupted like he never erupted before. "YOU FUCKED UP." The world shook. The entire hill trembled. Boulders cracked and exploded upwards. Malik didn’t even bother holding back. "I’LL DESTROY YOU!" His veins bulged as he roared. His eyes glowed so bright they scorched the air. His hands clenched into fists so tight they bled fire. "I’LL RIP YOUR SKIN OFF AND STUFF IT DOWN YOUR THROAT!" Cyrus blinked, hands still behind his back, watching fury incarnate. "I’LL COVER YOU IN CUTS—THOUSANDS—MILLIONS—AND POUR POISON INTO EVERY SINGLE ONE." The hill shook harder. "I’LL PUMP PAIN THROUGH YOUR BODY UNTIL YOUR BONES REMEMBER IT! THEN LET YOU REST JUST ENOUGH—ONLY ENOUGH—TO WAKE YOU UP AND BREAK EVERY. SINGLE. BONE. IN. YOUR. BODY." Malik stepped forward, his presence heavy. "I’LL NEVER LEAVE YOU A MOMENT OF LIFE." The world around them burned. "AND WHEN I’M DONE—" His voice dropped. "I’LL LIGHT YOU ON FIRE. STARTING FROM YOUR FEET. THEN YOUR HANDS. THEN YOUR LEGS. YOUR ARMS. YOUR TORSO. YOUR HEART. YOUR—" Malik raised his hand. "AND FINALLY YOUR HEAD." Everything began to break around them, unable to handle the sheer force of his Will. Cyrus’s grin slowly... gently... faded. The mask dropped. For the first time since they met, Cyrus’s face turned completely serious... There was no joke left, just a man who understood exactly what was standing in front of him. "You shouldn’t be this way... I see your soul." His foot slid back, and his arms slowly came forward. "Whatever you’ve gone through in that trial must’ve killed you." A wooden, snake-headed staff materialized in his right hand. "...This is nothing but an act; you should cease it." There was no saying otherwise; Cyrus took a stance. "Even if it’s based on emotion somewhere deep inside you." His eyes locked onto Malik’s. "Focus on this battle instead, because I..." And softly, with no arrogance... mocking... or pretense... "...I’m ready for you." The moment the words left Cyrus’s lips— Malik’s enraged face turned completely blank. He calmly took his stance. Spine Splitter equipped. Left hand behind his back. The other before his chest. His Royal Sword Style. {Ember’s Touch.} His blood ignited. His veins became molten lines of gold. His skin steamed from the sheer heat of existing. {Goliath’s Fall} His tendons screamed under pressure. His bones became denser than diamonds. His muscles were loaded with enough force to crater mountains. {Scorpion’s Sting} His blade carried the strongest venom. {Devil’s Footsteps} The ground burned beneath and around him... Around hoof-shaped brands of golden fire. {Zephyr’s Kiss} The air picked up for him... A sandstorm bigger than any before it. {Sandveil} His body was embraced by sand... An armor unlike any other. "You are ready for me." Cyrus responded in kind, not a moment late. His robes flared, torn upward by his own power. {Stormveil} Wind wrapped his body in an untouchable barrier, twisting into invisible armor. Flame, dust, or any type of matter got obliterated before it touched him. {Gale Walker} Gravity became a suggestion. His feet no longer touched the ground, and movement became thought. {Cyclone Warden}. A core of compressed air rotated around them, joining the sandstorm, fighting against it. {Tempest’s Crown}. Vortexes began appearing around his staff. Wind that detonated afterimages of pressure, scattering shockwaves in every direction. {Aether’s Breath}. Oxygen itself bent to his will, strengthening his body. The air was a weapon, shield, and fuel for his techniques. {Ember’s Touch.} His staff began to wail, very, very concentrated air rushing through and around it. Within moments, the two were beyond ready. Their Aether flexed, and then... Both men disappeared. They were gone. A flash and boom didn’t follow, not even an afterimage. They were just gone. CLANG! After a whole second, they reappeared midair. Malik’s Spine Splitter was smashed against Cyrus’s staff. Fire met wind. Neither budged. Malik blinked, a micro-flicker of surprise. He expected the staff to buckle, but it didn’t even scratch. Cyrus spun and stepped back. "It’s the Staff of God." They disappeared... BOOM! And reappeared again, three meters to the left. Spine Splitter carved down, caught by the staff’s shaft. BOOM! Cyrus was behind Malik now. BOOM! Parrying it, Malik spun, fire trailing from the tip. BOOM. Front. BOOM. High left. BOOM. Low right. Ten clashes. Under one second. Except for the sonic booms, no sound followed. They were either too fast, or sound itself forgot how to exist here. Nothing could survive this space except those two; every action of theirs was simply too destructive. The dust beneath them didn’t move; every grain was frozen, caught between shockwaves of pressure and suction. The wind didn’t howl; it was silenced, strangled by forces that overpowered its very concept. Every time Malik’s burning blade met Cyrus’s wind-wrapped staff, the world shuddered. But nothing—nothing—broke, no matter how long they fought. And yes, they fought for hours and hours, never stopping for a moment. Their Ember’s Touch, their Crowned Trails, their Zephyr’s Kiss—all equal. Perfectly matched. The moment they were sure of that... The moment that they both saw no way forward... Their fight started to change. Skill. Technique. That was where Cyrus pulled ahead. Because, for all of Malik’s monstrous power, bottomless Will, and incredible mind, Cyrus had a tad extra level of finesse. A staff fighter of a few hundred years before Malik was even born. A master of a thousand parries, angles, and rotations. So as Cyrus’s instantaneous attacks stacked up, Malik continued to fall behind, each strike costing him another fraction, until eventually, a few more hours later... BOOM. Malik swung for his shoulder only to miss, and Cyrus knocked his grip off balance by a hair. That hair length forced Malik to further adjust his blade to deflect the incoming attack, making him miss an entire moment. Cyrus, of course, took advantage of that. His foot rotated on a vortex, redirecting his staff from a slash to a stab. Right, he used that one full moment to redirect his attack, which meant that Malik now needed another moment to defend himself... a moment he didn’t have. BOOM! The staff shot straight into his skull. Malik’s head jerked back, and his neck twisted wrong. A spark of red and black sprayed from his scalp. For half a breath, Malik blacked out. But before that blackness could take him fully— "I’ll kill you even if death welcomes me..." Malik’s left hand punched into his own chest. "Living through this was always just a luxury." His palm flared, and his own heart exploded in golden fire. Blink. Time blinked back. Something that hadn’t happened for a while now. But Malik wasn’t unfamiliar with it. Oh no, that was impossible. It was his other home. He Returned By Death. Returned more than eight hours earlier. To the same canyon. The same rocky hill. The same breath as before. The same man was facing him, standing in a stance. "Good." Cyrus tilted his head, confused. "...What’s good? You changed your mind? I’d appreciate it if you did." Malik didn’t answer. Instead, he smiled. His feet moved. BOOM. An unstoppable force facing an immovable object. "FALL."

Chapter 357: Unstoppable Force Vs Immovable Object

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