The Devourer's Dominion

The night had passed in silence, but Aetheron barely slept. The weight of everything—his evolving Dominion, the Sovereign's influence, and the artifact's lingering energy—pressed down on him like an unseen force. He sat at the edge of their camp, staring out at the darkened horizon.

Dawn was just beginning to break when Lyara approached, her steps quiet but purposeful. She stopped beside him, arms crossed.

"You felt it, didn't you?" she asked.

Aetheron didn't turn to her. "It's getting stronger."

Lyara let out a slow breath. "The artifact?"

Aetheron shook his head. "Not just that. Something else. Something bigger."

Lyara's expression darkened. "Then we don't have much time."

A Sudden Attack

Before either of them could say another word, the ground trembled—just slightly, but enough to send a ripple through the air. Birds scattered from the trees, their frantic cries echoing through the forest.

Aetheron was on his feet in an instant. Lyara's hand went to her blade.

Then—

A blur of motion.

Something came crashing through the trees, moving too fast to track. The air itself split apart as a dark figure materialized, landing just meters away from them.

Aetheron barely had time to register the shape—a man, cloaked in shadow—before the enemy moved.

Aetheron's instincts took over. He twisted, dodging the first strike just as a blade slashed through the air where he had been standing. Sparks erupted as steel met steel—Lyara had blocked the attack, her dagger locked against the assassin's curved blade.

Veyrin came crashing out of his tent, groggy but already armed. "Oh, come on! We can't even get a proper morning before someone tries to kill us?"

The assassin didn't respond. He moved like a phantom, slipping past Lyara and lunging straight for Aetheron.

Aetheron raised his hand. His Dominion surged.

Lightning crackled.

The assassin barely flinched. He vanished—his body dissolving into mist before reforming behind Aetheron in a blink.

Fast. Too fast.

Aetheron twisted at the last second, but the assassin's fist connected, sending him skidding back. The moment his feet hit the ground, Aetheron pushed, flipping backward to gain distance.

Lyara was already back in the fight. Her dagger flashed, cutting through the air as she engaged, but the assassin was relentless.

Veyrin, now fully awake, sighed dramatically. "Guess I better do something."

He snapped his fingers.

The air exploded.

Aetheron felt the shift in energy an instant before Veyrin's magic took hold. The entire battlefield warped, gravity bending just enough to throw the assassin off balance. It was a small window, but Aetheron took it.

He dashed forward, Dominion flaring. His arm crackled with power as he struck.

His fist connected. The assassin was sent flying, slamming into a tree with a sharp crack.

But Aetheron didn't relax. He could already tell—that wasn't enough.

The assassin pushed himself up, blood dripping from his mouth. But instead of retreating, he did something unexpected.

He laughed.

Low. Amused.

Then, his form began to shift. The shadows around him moved, warping and twisting until they coiled around his body like living armor.

Aetheron's eyes narrowed. "Not human."

Lyara's grip on her dagger tightened. "No. Not even close."

The Sovereign's Warning

Before the assassin could attack again, a sudden, unfamiliar voice echoed in Aetheron's mind.

A test.

Aetheron stiffened. The voice—deep, resonant—wasn't coming from the outside. It was coming from inside him.

Prove yourself.

The Sovereign.

Aetheron's pulse pounded in his ears. He knew this wasn't a coincidence. The timing was too perfect. This wasn't just another assassin—this was something sent to challenge him. To push him.

And if the Sovereign wanted a test…

Aetheron would not hold back.

His Dominion surged.

Power flooded his limbs, lightning crackling through his veins. He clenched his fists, feeling the raw energy begging to be unleashed.

The assassin moved again, but this time—

Aetheron was faster.

He met the attack head-on. Steel clashed. Sparks flew. The battlefield became a blur of motion as Aetheron and the assassin exchanged blows, each strike carrying enough force to shatter stone.

Lyara and Veyrin kept their distance, watching for an opening, but this was Aetheron's fight now.

The Sovereign's voice echoed once more.

Prove that you are worthy of the Dominion.

Aetheron didn't hesitate.

He unleashed everything.

The Fight Ends

The assassin was strong. Skilled. But Aetheron was something else.

His Dominion wasn't just power—it was control. And in that moment, he controlled the battlefield.

Lightning roared. The ground cracked beneath his feet.

With a final, decisive blow, Aetheron tore through the assassin's defenses. His fist connected squarely with the enemy's chest—energy surging through his arm as he poured everything into the strike.

The assassin shattered.

Not just his body, but his form—his very existence—unraveling into the shadows from which he came.

Then—silence.

The battle was over.

Aftermath

Aetheron stood amidst the wreckage, breathing hard. His hands were still crackling with residual energy, the air thick with the scent of burned ozone.

Veyrin let out a low whistle. "Well. That was… dramatic."

Lyara sheathed her dagger. "Not just dramatic. Planned."

Aetheron exhaled slowly. He knew she was right. That attack wasn't random. It wasn't just some enemy trying to kill him.

It was a message.

A warning.

The Sovereign was watching. Testing him. Preparing him.

For what?

Aetheron wasn't sure.

But one thing was clear.

Whatever was coming—

He wasn't ready yet.

But he would be.