Alex’s blade completed its arc.
The Seventh Form awakened.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the world fell inward.
Gravity ceased to be a direction—it became a command. Space in front of Alex twisted, folding in on itself as though reality were being crushed by an unseen hand.
The air screamed. Light bent into warped ribbons, stars in the sky stretching into pale scars as if the heavens themselves were being dragged toward a single point.
Avaloria began to die.
Mountains groaned and slid like loose sand. Entire districts tore free from the earth, streets and towers lifting into the sky as rivers reversed their flow, spiraling upward.
The land fractured in widening rings, continents collapsing toward the path of that single slash.
The Seventh Form did not cut.
It declared an end.
It created a domain where gravity was no longer a force—but an absolute.
A collapsing horizon bloomed before Zarvok. Space compressed into a spiraling abyss, a newborn wormhole where density reached infinity. It was not darkness—it was the absence of escape. A region so intense that even light could not flee, dragged screaming into the void.
Zarvok felt it instantly.
His colossal body lurched as reality betrayed him. Bones screamed. Flesh tore. Divine scales shattered like glass beneath the weight of inevitability. The air itself became chains, yanking him forward.
"GRAAAH—!"
For the first time in centuries, agony tore from the Dragon King’s throat.
His wings twisted backward, joints dislocating as space crushed around him. Blood sprayed outward—then curved back in, dragged toward the event horizon. Muscles ripped. Organs shifted violently. His spine bent at impossible angles.
Every cell in his body was being commanded to move.
The gravity was not pulling him.
It was rewriting where he was allowed to exist.
Zarvok’s vision fractured. Stars smeared into lines. His consciousness trembled under the pressure.
’This... this is not power...’
’This is a law.’
Teeth clenched, he roared. An ancient authority ignited within him—Dominion of Absolute Position. The concept of location itself bent to his will. Reality resisted. Screamed.
And he tore himself free.
With a thunderous rupture, Zarvok ripped out of the collapsing domain, half his body flung across broken space. He crashed through the sky, carving a trench through the ruins of Avaloria before skidding to a halt.
He lay there for a moment.
One arm hung uselessly. Cracks webbed across his scales. Blood poured freely. Part of his torso had been flayed raw, flesh warped by spatial shear. His wings twitched in ruin.
Terror coiled in his heart.
’What the hell is this boy...?’
’What kind of art does this to reality?’
Slowly, Zarvok pushed himself upright.
Blood dripped from his grin.
His eyes burned.
Fear was there.
But so was ecstasy.
"This... is wonderful," he rasped. "To think... a mortal could force me to invoke a law..."
Across the fractured sky, Alex stood calmly, sword resting on his shoulder, cosmic essence swirling like a newborn galaxy around him.
His voice carried casually through the ruined world.
"You escaped that, huh?"
A faint smile curved his lips.
"Good."
Zarvok’s massive form trembled as he pushed himself up from the crater he had carved into the ruins. Bones cracked audibly. One wing dragged uselessly behind him, scales broken, flesh torn and still warping from spatial scars.
Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
Yet he stood.
Alex watched him, purple energy still swirling around his body. A faint smile curved his lips.
"You still wanna fight in that state?"
Zarvok spat the blood pooling in his mouth onto the shattered ground.
"Why?" he growled. "Are you scared?"
Alex’s mouth twitched.
In the next instant, he vanished.
The world blurred.
Zarvok’s pupils constricted. "...Law of Foresight."
Reality shifted in his perception.
Time slowed—not for the world, but for him. In his vision, ghostly afterimages unfolded ahead. Alex’s next movement appeared like a shadow of the future, revealing where he would emerge, how his blade would descend.
Zarvok’s hand lifted.
A spear of condensed draconic light materialized in his grasp.
Alex reappeared behind him—
And Alex understood.
The world unfolded differently.
Where Zarvok saw two seconds ahead—
Alex saw three.
Zarvok’s eyes widened.
Too late.
Alex stepped into a future Zarvok had not yet seen.
His blade pierced through the Dragon King’s stomach.
Blood burst forth.
Zarvok coughed violently, staring down at the sword embedded in him.
"...Wow," he rasped. "Just... wow. I’m sure no one in this universe could learn a natural law just by seeing someone fight for a few minutes."
Alex pulled the blade free.
"What can I say?" he replied dryly. "People just don’t appreciate my intellect."
Zarvok dropped to his knees, coughing blood violently.
Then he laughed.
Loud.
Unrestrained.
"Your name’s Alex, right?" he said between ragged breaths. "It was a great honor to fight you. I am proud... that I lost to someone exceptional like you."
Alex’s lips curved faintly. "Looks like there are still people who can appreciate greatness."
Zarvok lifted his gaze to the shattered sky.
"Looks like the prophecy was right... and wrong at the same time."
Alex’s brows furrowed. "What prophecy?"
"The Dragon God will die," Zarvok said softly, "and a new one will sit upon the throne."
Alex’s eyes widened.
"...Who will sit on it?"
Zarvok smiled weakly.
"I the descendant of the previous Dragon God."
His voice faded.
"But I... am dying now."

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