"What!" Vael was shocked at how suddenly his attack was split apart. He didn't even feel anything.
But as the dust settled, he saw Apollo standing calmly, holding a sword like an eternal omnipresent king.
The sword in Apollo's hand hummed with a presence that transcended the battlefield.
Its form was ethereal yet sharp, forged from the silent convergence of space and timelessness. The edge shimmered not with light, but with absence—the absence of distortion, of impurity, of chaos. A sword rule that cannot be tainted.
Vael's laughter stopped, his expression freezing mid-madness.
"What kind of rule is that?"
Apollo calmly looked at the dispersed palm and nodded in his heart. "It seems my Eternal Sword rule can cut through it. Even this weird rule swallowing power cannot handle my sword rule."
