Delacroix Club
Euripython Belt Station
Euripython solar system
Euripython Star sector
Euripython Galaxy
22nd Krios cycle, Solaris Prime
The hilt of Rex's sword cracked against a Legionnaire's jaw, the impact sending the armored soldier sprawling with a muffled grunt. Sparks danced across the air from the collision, his body skidding across the marbled plaza. Around them, a shimmering dome of energy snapped into place—an ethereal barrier, hexagonal patterns flickering like liquid circuitry across its surface. The residual aftershock from the clash between Leon and the woman who mirrored Sam had drawn the attention of the Law Enforcement Droids, prompting the security field that now sealed them off from the rest of the city.
Rex turned with quiet intensity as three more Legionnaires advanced. One of them stood ahead of the others—a broad-shouldered warrior clad in sleek cybertech armor, the dark plates etched with glowing azure runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. This was Brutus, second-in-command of the Ganymede Vanguard. His visor retracted slightly, revealing cold, calculating eyes as he studied the aftermath of Rex's swift subdual of his subordinates.
The defeated Legionnaires still groaned on the floor, weapons scattered, bruised but alive. Rex hadn't killed them—hadn't even truly maimed them. And yet, each of his blows had been decisive, precise, and dominant. Brutus could feel it: no malice, no bloodlust… just overwhelming control. The aura surrounding Rex was eerily familiar. It stirred old memories of the Captain's presence—the same calm authority, the same quiet storm waiting to erupt.
"Arexander Pendragon," Brutus intoned, his voice metallic and grave, "son of Alexander Pendragon… the Fallen One. Do not take him lightly."
The two Legionnaires flanking Brutus gave a brief nod, stepping into position. They moved like extensions of a machine, forming a perfect triangle around Rex. From their hilts, blades of pure radiant energy ignited, humming with lethal purpose—Magitech constructs forged from principles that surpassed even what the Divine Federation considered cutting-edge.
Rex's gaze flicked to the weapons, noting their frequency modulation and rune arrays. These weren't mere ceremonial tools—these were designed for high-tier combat, their design unorthodox and elegant. The fact that warriors from Ganymede, of all places, were deploying such advanced technology for a single artifact puzzled him. But then again, it wasn't just any artifact.
The item in question was a Divine-grade relic, one with enough intrinsic potency to elevate a cultivator's entire foundation. It had done just that for Rex—his Sage cultivation had reached its pinnacle, his internal vortexes flowing in perfect harmonic resonance. His foundation had never been firmer, his meridians singing with stored power. And yet… beneath it all, he could still feel it—that distant pull. A subtle force in the background, ever present, calling him somewhere. Beckoning. He had ignored it for years. He would ignore it again.
His fingers slid across the hilt of his sword, still sheathed at his side. The weapon was a mythical-grade blade, its scabbard etched with ancient inscriptions that shimmered faintly in the barrier's light. With practiced ease, he drew the sword free, the steel whispering like wind as it left the scabbard. Cold light glinted along its edge—this blade had tasted the blood of abominations, Daemons, and gods alike.
The two Legionnaires lunged forward, their blades crackling through the air with unrelenting speed. And Rex moved.
Rex's body twisted through the air in a blur of motion, the arcs of his movement almost too swift to track. For a man of his size, his agility bordered on the impossible—every rotation of his frame synchronized with the unpredictable momentum of his sword. The blade danced with unnatural precision, shifting angles mid-swing as though it obeyed not physics but sheer will. The Legionnaires struggled to track his trajectory. Each strike emerged from a blind angle, slipping past their guard with uncanny ease and landing solid blows against their armored frames.
Sparks erupted with every impact, but the blade didn't pierce. Rex's brows furrowed as he felt the resistance—a tactile tension running through his arm with every deflected strike. So the armor's enchanted, he noted silently. His blade, even with its mythic enchantments, couldn't cleave through it.
The Legionnaires realized it as well.
With renewed aggression, they pressed their assault. Twin radiant blades—curved arcs of searing white mana—lashed toward him in tandem. Rex reacted instinctively, meeting one of the radiant strikes with his own blade. A shrill, ringing crack split the air as the radiant edge sliced through his weapon like molten glass through ice.
Rex immediately disengaged, levitating backward as the broken half of his longsword spun away into the dust-choked air. He studied the jagged stump in his hand for a moment before discarding it without sentiment. His golden eyes locked on the unconscious Legionnaire he had floored earlier. One weapon would replace another.
Time to stop playing around.
He reached inward, awakening the core of his Ability Factor—Phantom Drive—the hereditary power of the House of Aries, a gift of highborn psionic manipulation. Energy crackled along his frame, distorting the space around him as if reality itself held its breath. A dormant hilt lying near the unconscious warrior jerked into motion, enveloped in crimson energy, and snapped into Rex's open hand with a magnetic pull.
The moment he gripped it, the core within the magitech hilt responded to his mana signature. Crimson light ignited from the emitter with a deep hum, forming a radiant blade unlike the standard issue—it was chaotic and volatile, shimmering with fractal edges as if it struggled to remain bound by form.
[Pendragon Form — Red Prism Cutter]
Rex spun. In a single, fluid arc, he swept the blade horizontally. The blade didn't just cut air—it restructured it. Red energy refracted from the strike in a burst of crystalline beams, scattering outward like shards of light reflecting through a fractured prism. Each beam twisted through space at unnatural angles, converging into a radiant lattice.
The pressure collapsed around the Legionnaires like a gravitational storm. The earth beneath them splintered and gave way under the redirected air currents and raw force. Two of them were caught in the converging web—there was no time to block. The moment the red light touched their bodies, the warped pressure launched them back, their limbs limp as they fell unconscious before they even hit the ground.
Only Brutus remained.
He moved. Fast. Preternaturally fast.
His form blurred out of the zone of convergence just as the beams ricocheted again, tearing craters into the ground. He skidded to a halt, panting, his armor scuffed, his mind reeling. His eyes narrowed, not with fear, but with indignation.
He had witnessed something terrifying.
Not just the power of the Red Prism Cutter, but the fact that Rex hadn't even tried to kill them. That entire devastating display had been restrained. Held back. Controlled.
Rage simmered in Brutus' gut. They had come prepared for war. Prepared to take lives. And yet the man they had come to execute wasn't even treating this like a real battle. He was holding back… and that was more insulting than any wound.
Rex's eyes narrowed in surprise. Brutus had moved—fast. Far faster than he'd expected. The Legionnaire's body had twisted out of the path of the Red Prism Cutter just in time, his motion blurring like a ghost slipping through space itself. For a brief moment, his physical prowess had surged to a level that even Rex's enhanced senses struggled to follow.
On the other side of the fractured battlefield, Brutus landed in a crouch, his armored frame trembling ever so slightly. He exhaled sharply, chest heaving beneath the segmented plates of his cybertech suit. Beads of perspiration clung to his brow despite the internal climate control—he was pushing his system far past recommended limits.
Drawing a deep breath, Brutus activated his internal diagnostics, a stream of telemetry data flowing through his consciousness. Muscle strain, nerve flare, stress overload—the warning icons flared like angry red eyes across his neural interface.
That was too close.
He had been forced to activate his Ability Factor—Titan Nerve: Aegis Protocol—just to survive. It was a hybrid power, a synthesis of cybernetic neurosynchronization and high-velocity kinetic combat protocols. Two core modules defined it: the Aegis Shell for adaptive defense, and Titan Pulse for overwhelming offense. Together, they turned Brutus into a walking fortress with the speed of a missile.
To escape Rex's attack, he had engaged one of his more extreme techniques—Overclock Pulse Override. It pushed his body beyond natural limits, overriding the constraints of both flesh and steel, enhancing his strength, speed, and reflexes beyond their normal thresholds. Even augmented by his high-grade Ganymede armor, it had been a desperate gamble.
And while it had worked—just barely—it came at a cost.
Now, the strain bled through his system like static through a broken circuit. His enhanced muscles throbbed with suppressed tension, and his neural feed flickered with intermittent tremors. He wouldn't be able to use that technique again for at least a few minutes—not without risking structural breakdown or neural backlash. Still, he stood. His breathing slowed. His gaze locked onto Rex.
"Do we have to fight?" Rex asked, his voice calm, almost weary beneath the low hum of his crimson blade.
Brutus's eyes narrowed beneath his visor, his grip tightening around his weapon. "Our Captain gave the order," he replied, voice like steel over ice. "What she commands, we carry out. She told us to eliminate you… and retrieve the prize."
Rex cast a glance across the battlefield. In the distance, Leon and the woman—Seraphina—flashed like living comets, green and yellow trails of light intertwining in a chaotic ballet of speed and precision. Their clash lit up the dome like distant stars colliding.
"Very well," Rex said softly, his expression hardening. "Then let's end this."
He raised the radiant blade high above his head. The weapon pulsed with power, its red glow intensifying until it blazed like a miniature sun. Energy condensed around the blade, forming a concentrated beam of volatile red light. It arced outward in raw anticipation, the surrounding air shimmering as if reality itself were bending under the heat.
Across from him, Brutus responded in kind. His own Radiant blade surged to life, channeling the residual energy of his Titan Nerve's combat protocol. Sparks danced across his armor as he prepared for a single, decisive strike.
[Pendragon Form – Infernal Red Surge]
Time seemed to halt for an instant.
Then both warriors exploded into motion.
A thunderous boom cracked through the barrier as Rex and Brutus lunged toward each other, their blades slashing with such force and velocity that even the air screamed in protest. They passed each other in a blur—two meteors crossing paths mid-fall.
The impact of their clash unleashed a devastating shockwave. Wind pressure burst outward like a collapsing vortex, rupturing the ground beneath them in jagged fractures. Debris soared into the air, concrete shards and glowing dust swirling in a rising storm of violence.
Both men landed on opposite ends of the field, their blades humming, their breathing heavy. The earth between them was torn and broken—a battlefield carved by gods in human form.
Brutus exhaled sharply, a tremor rippling through his frame as microfractures spiderwebbed across his armor. The plating, already stressed to its limits, finally gave way—shattering apart in glimmering shards of synthetic alloy. Blood poured from the ruptures in his body as he collapsed to the ground with a pained grunt, consciousness slipping from him.
Rex deactivated the radiant mana blade with a low hum, the crackling crimson light vanishing into the hilt. He regarded the Magitech weapon with a flicker of admiration before storing it in his dimensional band. His gaze then shifted across the battlefield—to where Lance stood atop a pile of groaning, beaten Legionnaires. Their bodies bled, but none were dead.
Rex raised an eyebrow. "Didn't think you were the merciful type."
"They're not my enemies," Lance replied, coolly wiping blood from his blade. "Killing them would've been pointless." He glanced skyward, where trails of green and yellow streaked through the air. "Besides, looks like they're still busy flirting."
-
[Heavenly Radiance: Stellar Rend]
Leon's blade sang through the air, hurling massive gravitational slashes toward Seraphina. The force behind them warped the skyline, collapsing debris and sending shockwaves outward—but Seraphina remained composed. Her blade shimmered with silver and violet light as she invoked Solus's space-cutting ability. One by one, the gravitational waves were severed mid-air, nullified as though they were never there.
Both fighters were enveloped in glowing mantles of mana—Level Four application. Their power had ascended to the next tier of combat. Leon's strikes were faster, sharper, enhanced by the radiant shell of energy cloaking his body, but Seraphina parried and countered with uncanny precision.
Leon had noticed something odd.
Though she wielded the Heavenly Radiance Sword Style with perfect form, she lacked its core essence. The true special attacks—the devastating techniques fueled by the Hyperion ability factor—were absent. She wasn't replicating the entire style… only Solus's spatial aspect. And yet, her mastery of that portion exceeded even his.
More disturbing was the aura she exuded. A radiant mantle of amber-green light wreathed her figure, suffocating the space around her with a searing, oppressive heat. Leon's skin prickled in warning. His instincts screamed danger. That mana—it wasn't normal. It was dense, heavy, and volatile. It pulsed with a frequency that disturbed the flow of natural mana. A Mana Force variation... and a terrifying one at that.
If Abaris was a joke, then Seraphina is an absolute monster, Leon thought grimly.
Despite that, he was holding his own. His standard mana manipulation kept him just ahead, pushing him to dance through the skies, unleashing Stellar Rend after Stellar Rend in hopes of forcing her back.
But Seraphina was relentless.
She canceled his strikes like they were amateur spells. Then she shifted stance—something changed. Leon felt it before he saw it. The buildup of power. The moment her blade was raised, he knew what was coming.
[Adamantium Style: Thunderclap Severance]
The same move she had used to obliterate Delacroix's club.
A beam of green-hued light shot toward him, splitting the air with a thunderous boom that echoed like a divine hammerstrike. Leon narrowly avoided the brunt of it, vanishing in a flicker of light—Yellow Flash—but even as he prepared to counter, Seraphina was gone.
Danger surged from below.
He looked down just in time to see the slash of amber-green light arcing toward his face. He barely escaped with another blink of Yellow Flash, but not before the blade kissed his cheek.
Seraphina stared at her sword afterward, eyeing the faint smear of red along its edge. A thin line of blood, not deep enough to claim victory, but enough to mark progress.
He's better than I expected, she thought, a flicker of begrudging respect in her eyes.
Leon reappeared in the distance, clutching his face, blood pouring from his right eye. The heat radiating from the wound was unnatural—he could feel it. It wasn't just damage—it was corruption. The mana embedded in the slash was preventing his body from healing properly.
Rex and Lance appeared beside him, Rex's gaze falling to the injury. A vertical gash marred Leon's eye, blood steadily seeping from it.
A flash of emerald light flared around Leon's face as he activated his Hyperion Green—the restorative aspect of his ability factor. The bleeding stopped, but when the glow faded, the eye remained shut. Useless. Scarred. His vision in that eye was gone.
Leon scowled. "Why can't I fix it?"
Rex gave him a knowing look. "Because wounds caused by Mana Force variation aren't easily healed," he said. "Especially this one, Amber star force mana."
"Amber Star Mana," Leon muttered.
Rex nodded. "One of the three most destructive Mana Forces. It obliterates on a metaphysical level. You don't just heal from that."
Leon clenched his jaw and turned to Seraphina, who had deactivated her mantle and sheathed her blade.
"Did you have to go that far?" he snapped. "Now I can't see out of one eye."
"Hmph. You look better this way," she replied with a shrug.
"I thought you were trying to kill me for real."
"I told you—I don't like your face."
As their bickering resumed, Rex's Zodiak device buzzed within his dimensional band. He summoned it with a flick of his hand and accepted the transmission after moving away from the group.
Meri's voice came through, steady but urgent. "Rex, it's time. Your father's trial date has been set. One week from now—The Trial of Alexander Pendragon begins."
She paused.
"The Court just issued the ruling. I'm heading back to Agartha. If you want to be there in time, I suggest you come with me."
Rex's expression darkened.
"Fine," he said. "I'm on my way."
"Alright, everyone, let's dial it down," Lance said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Hostility levels are a bit high for a reunion."
Seraphina shot him a glare, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "And you, Lance—if you were planning to be here when I showed up, the least you could've done was warn me."
Lance smirked, clearly unrepentant. "Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see the look on both your faces when you met for the first time." He folded his arms. "Besides, don't act like you wouldn't still try to kill me."
"I don't like you," Seraphina said flatly.
Leon blinked, glancing between the two. "So... you two know each other?"
Rex reappeared at that moment, his expression composed but firm. "Apologies, but I have to go."
Leon turned to him. "What's going on?"
"The trial's been confirmed," Rex said grimly. "Meri just got word. She's heading back to Agartha, and I'm going with her." He turned to Seraphina with a nod. "Would you mind taking the barrier down?"
Seraphina sighed. "Fine."
She descended gracefully to where the injured Legionnaires were gathered, most groaning but still alive. With a flick of her wrist, she activated a hidden panel on her gauntlet. Runes lit up along the metal as a web of magic circles ignited in the air above them, spinning and shifting before forming a stable transport rift. With a single command, she and her Legion vanished into the portal. The moment they were gone, the barrier shimmered and began to dissolve like mist under sunlight.
"Well, we should probably leave too—before someone tries to arrest us for turning this place into a crater," Lance said dryly.
Without another word, the three experts activated their movement techniques. In a blink, they vanished, leaving behind a shattered battlefield and the echoes of a confrontation that would no doubt be remembered.