The Devourer's Dominion

The wind howled through the ruins of the old temple, carrying the scent of scorched stone and lingering blood. Aetheron stood at the center of the ancient battleground, his breath steady, his hands clenched. Across from him, the leader of the Sovereign's Hunters watched with cold, calculating eyes.

Lorien, a warrior clad in obsidian armor etched with shifting sigils, exuded an aura of absolute authority. The Hunters flanked him, their silent presence a reminder that this was not just a test—it was an execution if he failed.

"You've devoured something beyond your comprehension," Lorien said, drawing a long, curved blade from his side. Its edge shimmered, laced with an energy Aetheron couldn't immediately place. "Now, let's see if you deserve it."

Aetheron barely had a second to react before Lorien moved.

Boom—

The air split as Lorien crossed the distance in a blink, his blade crashing down with terrifying force. Aetheron barely dodged, rolling to the side as the impact split the ground where he once stood. Dust and debris exploded into the air, obscuring his vision for a moment.

Fast.

Aetheron launched himself back, feet skidding across the cracked stone. Before he could regain his footing, Lorien was already on him again, a blur of black and silver.

Aetheron raised his arm, shadows coiling around it as he activated his Devourer's Guard. Lorien's sword met his defense—only to cut clean through the swirling darkness like a hot knife through wax.

Aetheron's eyes widened. What?

Pain flared as the blade nicked his side, a thin line of blood painting his cloak. He barely managed to disengage before Lorien pressed forward, his strikes relentless, precise, merciless.

Every movement was calculated. No wasted steps, no unnecessary swings. Lorien was a warrior honed by countless battles, his experience manifesting in every strike.

And Aetheron was being overwhelmed.

Focus. Adapt.

He pushed off the ground, flipping backward as he activated Void Dominion, shadows spiraling around his hand. He thrust his palm forward, sending a wave of consuming darkness straight at Lorien.

Lorien didn't even flinch.

He stepped through the attack.

Aetheron's heart skipped a beat.

The void tendrils should have torn him apart, but instead, they dispersed on contact, as if repelled by an unseen force.

"You think the Sovereign's Hunters aren't prepared for Devourers?" Lorien's voice was calm, almost disappointed. "You're not the first."

Not the first?

Aetheron barely had time to process the words before Lorien's next attack came. The blade arced downward—this time faster, heavier, laced with something more.

Aetheron moved.

His instincts screamed, and he twisted, avoiding a direct hit, but the sword's energy grazed his shoulder.

Aetheron felt it.

It wasn't just a cut. It was something deeper—his power flickered, his connection to the Devourer's essence momentarily severed.

His eyes widened. That sword... it cancels abilities.

Lorien didn't give him time to think.

Aetheron barely caught the next strike with a hastily summoned shadow blade, but the impact sent him crashing back. He hit the temple wall hard, the stone cracking beneath him. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Lorien lowered his weapon slightly. "This is the difference between a fledgling Devourer and someone who understands power."

Aetheron's fingers twitched. His body ached, but his mind raced.

Lorien wasn't invincible. There was always a pattern. Always a weakness.

That sword.

If it nullified abilities on contact, then...

Aetheron's lips curled. "You rely on that blade too much."

Lorien raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Aetheron launched forward—fast.

Not with shadows, not with void, but with raw, unrelenting physical force. He twisted low, avoiding Lorien's initial slash, then pivoted inside his guard. No powers. Just pure combat.

Lorien's eyes flashed with recognition—but it was too late.

Aetheron's fist drove into his ribs. A solid, brutal hit. Lorien grunted, but his response was immediate—he brought the sword up to counter, but Aetheron was already moving. He ducked under the swing, shifting his stance.

Then—he reached for the sword itself.

His fingers closed around the hilt.

Lorien's eyes widened.

Boom.

Aetheron's Devourer's Touch activated.

The sword trembled—its nullifying force clashing against his ability. It resisted, like two forces battling for control. The sigils on Lorien's armor flickered.

For a second, just a second, the power sealing Aetheron's abilities broke.

And that was all he needed.

Darkness exploded from him, raw and violent.

Lorien staggered back as the shadows coiled, twisting into jagged tendrils. Aetheron didn't hesitate—he forced the power forward, letting it latch onto his opponent.

Lorien reacted instantly, severing the tendrils with a clean swipe of his blade—but he was slower now. The balance had shifted.

Aetheron exhaled.

His powers were back.

And now, it was a real fight.

Lorien adjusted his grip. He no longer looked bored. "Interesting."

Aetheron rolled his shoulder, his smirk returning. "Let's see who deserves this power, then."

The air cracked as both warriors lunged at each other once more.

The fight wasn't over.