Power was addicting. Power corrupted, but that wasnât the kind of trap Khan had fallen into.
A hammer begged to be slammed. It was the sole purpose behind its existence.
A rifle had to be fired to avoid accumulating dust and other hindrances that would make it stop functioning.
In the same way, power had to be used. It was an intrinsic drive that went against merely leaving it to rot away and more.
Khanâs predicament was also deeper and more convoluted. He had spent years or longer unaware of his hatred toward the very power that had made him one of the best warriors in the regulated universe, only for Liiza to fix that in his last battle.
The fights on the Nakâs home world obviously couldnât suffice to test that revolutionary change. Yeza had also been born in that period. Khan had even gotten rid of his nightmares, completed his mission, and had a war to consider.
Khanâs mind had never stopped being beyond full, preventing any meaningful introspection. Yet, an opponent that could endure his blows had finally arrived, providing the perfect opportunity to reach a simple but profound realization: He loved fighting.
Of course, Khan didnât enjoy the blood, death, and killing. He actually sort of despised that aspect of the whole fighting field.
Yet, the struggle, the sweat, the tensed-up muscles pushed to the extreme, and the wild, unrestrained urge to obliterate everything and everyone were things Khan couldnât help but love.
Khan realized that was quite the conflicting sentiment, but he couldnât help but feel that way.
Moreover, that conflict never truly managed to manifest itself during a fight because Khan loved nothing more than losing himself in it. He adored it when he could think of nothing but unleashing his hard-earned power freely, without worrying about anything else.
Liiza was taking care of the survivors. The area had nothing worth preserving, so Khan could focus solely on fighting, on flowing according to his wild and extreme inclinations, ending up having the time of his life despite the gravity of the situation.
That was a twisted mindset, but it was true to Khanâs personality. If anything, it was a miracle the battle drive had stopped at that instead of turning into something darker after the life he had lived.
Khan stood on the Kingâs torso, smiling down at him while that river of raging energy washed them over.
Except that the river was harmless to Khan. It looked like nothing more than a wild breeze that made his hair and cape flutter without damaging them. That chaos was his home, and he could swim freely through it.
Then, another unfathomably heavy blow slammed on the Kingâs torso. Khan had lowered his other leg, stomping on his opponent, flinging him down and out of the raging river.
The Kingâs fuming figure escaped the tide of violent energy, which looked like a blinding streak of light from the outside. His body was still recovering from the damage, and the second kick seemed to have hindered that process, leaving him temporarily powerless, but that couldnât last for long.
Nevertheless, that powerlessness lasted long enough for the river to change. Its raging flow suddenly came to a halt, reversing in some areas to condense into a quite wide spot, recreating a scene the King had already seen.
Khan reappeared high in the sky, his cape and hair still fluttering. Meanwhile, an array of stylized reptilian eyes had reformed behind him, only to release their raging energy at his gesture.
Another blinding river slammed into the King, overwhelming him and trapping him in its raging currents, which damaged more of his figure.
Of course, at that level, the actual concerning damage involved evolved warriorsâ existence. Still, each of Khanâs attacks stretched far past the physical realm, inflicting deeper wounds that the Kingâs body inevitably reflected.
The tide of raw energy burned the King, but also eroded his very existence. He seemed to embody a black hole, but his pulling force shrank and waned with each second he spent inside those raging waves of light.
The Kingâs body reflected that damage in the form of cracks. His flesh didnât break anymore. It shattered as if it were a piece of glass that didnât release either blood or smoke. Those were lasting wounds that stretched to his very core, showcasing how effective Khanâs assault had been.
The King obviously couldnât let that stand. Despite Khan seemingly wielding superior power, the alien remained a shard of divinity, and losing in such a shameful manner would reflect poorly on his God.
The power that the King had previously tried to accumulate was still there. His body, horns, and wings were shattering, but he forcefully broke the latter on purpose, making them release their energy.
The wings exploded into a tide of True Chaos that pushed away the raging river, partially annihilating it, partially depleting itself to grant the King some freedom.
Still, the King didnât use that freedom to escape. Instead, his pulling force seemed to reverse, filling the released True Chaos with newfound density and sending it upward.
Khanâs spell was indeed shockingly wide and powerful, but was also built upon a mere planetâs energy. Evolved warriors at the Kingâs level could surpass that. Actually, the King could very well treat a simple celestial body as nothing more than food.
As if to prove the King right, the tide of True Chaos managed to rise against the descending purple-red river, piercing through it like a sharp spear against a shallow waterfall.
Yet, both the purple-red river and the tide of glowing darkness suddenly froze, seemingly to allow the passage of a single word.
"Break!" A shout roared through the area, which the world obeyed. Both rivers abandoned their structural integrity and shattered into raw energy that quickly dispersed.
The scenery became clear. The Kingâs burned and cracked figure was deep inside the gargantuan cavity, Earthâs Sunâs light still reaching those depths due to how wide it was.
Meanwhile, Khan was hovering above the King, calmly walking down the air as if he were descending an invisible staircase.
"You know," Khan announced, the symphony moving due to his silent command. "You called me son of the mana, then champion of the mana, but both are wrong."
The energy the previous two spells had released into the world condensed again, following the rest of the areaâs symphony. Bright clouds formed inside the gargantuan cavity, summoning a storm in the very depths of that massive hole.
"The mana did indeed give birth to countless iterations," Khan continued. "But, if we are talking about the general meaning, I might as well be the mana."