Aurelius remained impassive as men fell around him like a cascading row of dominoes, unimpressed by the crimson hue staining the ground and his marred attire as he tore through entire limbs and bodies as if they were but fragile paper. They simply weren't his opponents, defenseless before him like a child before an adult.

Cargil, a once-feared adversary, had proven lacking, their strength insufficient to challenge the might of LUV.

It appeared that their intricate and elaborate information network, crafted through a web of traitors within Aurelius' own organization, independent freelancers, and those lurking in the shadows of the streets, keeping an ear open for some extra money or drugs, had faltered and failed them.

This war had been unfair from its very inception. With the backing of a noble figure shielding him from external influences and thus providing a consistent and steady stream of resources, Aurelius had diligently fortified and expanded his organization, all the while careful to ensure there were no leaks or unwarranted attention.

A remarkably effective strategy as it turned out.

With a surge of spiritual energy, the ground fractured like an intricate spider's web beneath his feet, propelling him into the night sky. Fingers splayed, he blotted out the stars with a massive explosive blast of refined yet ferocious yellow energy, stemming from his palm.

It cleaved through the ranks of men below, tearing through nearly a dozen and rending the pavement into shattered concrete.

The thunderous roar of his attack reverberated through the darkened streets, a symphony of destruction that echoed far and wide.

The agonizing screams of Cargil's henchmen raged in his wake as he soared forward, his mastery over the spiritual currents enabling him to navigate effortlessly through the air. Despite the relentless winds that billowed his clothes, he remained unaffected by the cold that bit at the night.

His gaze remained unyielding as he observed his men advancing along the street towards the towering bastion that served as Cargil's headquarters. Once an ancient church, it had been transformed into a formidable fortress.

An elliptical dome, gracefully crowned by four pendentives at the front, transitioned into a compact oblong structure. Two imposing towers flanked it on either side, rising high in the nightsky.

This architectural masterpiece undoubtedly had inspired architects and artists of the ancient times alike, but its current guise revealed the stark contrast between its peaceful origins and its current formidable state.

It donned thickened walls, reinforced gates, and men keeping watch in the towers. In addition to material protection, it also utilized one of magical nature.

A luminescent dome, tinted in shades of light blue, flickered into life, enveloping the entire edifice. Aurelius cursed and landed with effortless grace just a few meters from this magical barrier.

He extended a burst of his own energy, a projectile of formidable strength, to meet the unknown shield. The yellow blast rippled the air, cracking like thunder.

Despite the power behind the assault, capable of disintegrating mortal bodies and toppling robust walls, it merely conjured a fleeting shimmer of blue on the barrier's surface before dissipating without leaving further damage. Aurelius grunted but his expression remained impassive.

The front portal at the structure's entrance, marked by an arch etched with cryptic runes, swung open slowly.

A party of five individuals leisurely strode down the lengthy ramp leading to the street below, their pace reminiscent of a casual walk and not quite befitting their dire situation.

At the forefront walked an elderly man, his towering and voluminous frame swathed in a deep azure robe.

Following closely behind him were three figures clad in runic armor, only their eyes peeking out from behind the protective embrace of the enchanted materials, glistening in the moonlight in a complex, layered reflection.

The last among them, draped in a simpler robe devoid of opulent rings and adornments, bore a more humble appearance. Given the familiar aura surrounding him, Aurelius surmised that he was Marcellus' son.

Wrinkles etched a map of time on the old man's visage, and despite the hoarse laughter that escaped his lips, the frosty rage lurking within his deep brown eyes betrayed the mask of false friendliness.

"Aurelius, it's always a pleasure to meet you," he began, extending his arms as if yearning for a hug, an endeavor obviously thwarted by the impenetrable barrier of azure energy that enveloped him and his headquarter.

"What brings you to my modest abode, and in the company of so many other gentlemen, no less?" Marcellus inquired, acting dumb.

However, Aurelius was not one to engage in verbal duels or mince his words. Not this evening.

He didn't indulge the old man's game.

"Surrender and dispel the dome. Afterward, we can entertain discussions concerning mercy," he declared, his expression unaltered, as if issuing a simple request for tea instead of ordering his enemy to willingly accept defeat.

"Regrettably, I find myself unable to accommodate such an extravagant request, my dear friend," Marcellus responded, with only the faintest quiver of his brow betraying the carefully maintained facade on his face.

"However, I can offer you some words of advice and wisdom, befitting my vast and diverse experience: Leave. This won't end well for you."

His friendly attitude fell with the final word, and a trace of his Presence seeped through the barrier, perceptible even through the resilient dome.

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Aurelius' men, who had caught up by this point and were positioned behind him in battle array, each clutching an instrument of death and bloodshed in their grasp, stood vulnerable to the superior foe's Presence.

Some among them gasped for air under the force, before Aurelius released his own Presence, dispelling the invisible assault.

Observing that they had no intention to budge, Marcellus added, "This is a device of the Third Sphere, designed solely for protection.

Although it is of relatively low level, breaking it will be beyond your capabilities. It would be wise to retreat. There is no disgrace in a stalemate."

A voice from Aurelius' ranks resounded loudly behind him, "Yet, there is shame in hiding behind raised walls like frightened children."

Marcellus's countenance darkened, his lips compressed into a thin line.

"You lack the means to continue this battle, and the time even less so," he continued, dismissing the insult.

"How long can you afford to linger out there?

How long will the authorities ignore the savages who threaten a good and law-abiding citizen? Leave, and we can put this all behind us.

Haven't you achieved your desired vengeance? Has there not been sufficient combat? Enough bloodshed?"

Aurelius locked eyes with him for over a minute, and a heavy silence enveloped the scene. Marcellus didn't shrink back. The tension mounted like a surging wave before shattering like fragile glass when Aurelius turned away from the dome.

"You fail to comprehend the gravity of your mistake, nor acknowledge your inferiority," he spoke aloud, infusing his words with his spirit, resonating through every nook and cranny of the street.

Then, he paused as if deeply entranced in his thoughts, contemplating his next words carefully.

Finally, he softly muttered, "So, perish in ignorance," and grasped from the Beyond, pulling with an iron grip. Spiritual energy amassed around him like a powerful tempest, and he lifted himself into the air. The transparent blue dome bathed his figure in an ethereal glow as he rose in the sky, far above the curved arc of the protective structure.

Runes flickered within his soul, and energy flowed. The spell structure bulged and hummed with power.

"By earth's embrace, and wind's command,

In sands of time, I take my stand.

From grains to arrow, form so grand

Fly true, my will, to strike the land,“

he intoned, as if reciting a royal decree, and raised his arms, crafting an invisible bow within his grasp.

However, the yellow energy, fluctuating in the air and condensing into a nearly three-meter-long arrow with a body of sand and a tip like iron, glowing with countless runic inscriptions, was unmistakably visible.

Light radiated across the sky, and power brimmed through the atmosphere. His enemies had no recourse to retaliate or obstruct his actions, ensnared by the dome's protection, preventing outside interference but also hindering them from interfering, so he pushed his soul far.

Balancing on the edge of losing control over his spell like a tightrope walker in a circus, he infused as much energy as possible into the arrow.

With a subtle sigh, he unleashed it.

A shockwave rippled, shattering the sky, and the arrow bathed the men below in a golden hue. Its descent, too swift for the naked eye to trace, left behind a trail of lingering energy in its path.

The dome offered no resistance; it shattered instantly, raining shards of energy upon those who had taken refuge within.

The world erupted in a golden inferno, and the earth quaked. The ancient church's towers, which had proudly stood guard over the neighboring structures for centuries, crumbled and collapsed, taking the entire edifice down with them as their monumental weight proved more than it could possibly bear.

Columns of dust and debris billowed through the street, making way for a second force descending from above.

Aurelius pierced through the cloud of dissipating rubble like another arrow, materializing before the trembling Marcellus, who lay on the ground, his hands bracing his shivering body.

Time seemed to halt, and he absorbed every detail - the final cries of those succumbing to the falling church's crushing force, the terror in the elderly man's eyes, the sweat clinging to his pallid face, and the shivers coursing through his body as if he was chilled to the bone.

Fragility was all that remained in his posture, weakness oozing from him like a sickness.

He had become a mere shadow of his former self, his arrogance deteriorating much like the headquarter of the criminal organization he had dedicated his life to building.

In a single whispered breath, awe turned to dawning realization, and ultimately regret escaped Marcellus' lips, "Third Sphere."

Aurelius felt no remorse.

Time resumed, and he broke through the man's defenseless body like a high-speed train. The old man exploded in a fine shower of blood, torn skin, and mashed gore that colored Aurelius in crimson as his descent forced even the pavement to make way.

Concrete shattered, his bones creaked but held firm as he slowly steadied himself. Jumping from the hole, he patted his clothes in a futile attempt to free himself from the remnants of the former drug lord.

A single, simple wave of his hand dispersed the remaining dust and washed the blood from his skin, revealing Marcellus' son sitting on the ground a few meters away.

The young man's mouth gaped wide enough as to swallow an entire tennis ball, and his eyes trembled. He was immobilized, frozen in place, unable to begin comprehending what had transpired, what Aurelius had done to his father.

However, there was a cunning nature to his being, undoubtedly inherited from his sadly-deceased father, and he quickly caught onto reality. "I can help you," he stammered. "I'll tell you everything you need to know. Where to find our funds, the data of our suppliers, the names of those we sent among your ranks as traitors. Everything!"

Aurelius smiled, and the young man winced. "Surely, you will."

His men, unleashed without restraint, swiftly leveled the remaining structure, extinguishing the pitiful lives of those who still clung to hope within its ruins.

No one was spared, not even the communicative and pleading son of the drug lord was granted mercy.

He had forsaken all loyalty to his family name and divulged every detail Aurelius desired to know. The surprise on his face, when Aurelius' fist had smashed through his chest and emerged from his back, had been priceless.

In that moment, he wished the boy's father had been there to witness his son's fall into disgrace and his subsequent embrace of death at Aurelius' hands.

Torches and Conduits of Paths of flame set the church ablaze.

The flames danced in a macabre ballet, their orange tongues licking the night sky. The heat was intense, but Aurelius remained unaffected, standing amidst the inferno with an air of indifference. His eyes scanned the surroundings, ensuring that there were no survivors or hidden threats lurking in the shadows.His mind was deep in thought and only when the fire began to subside, did he move once more.

He observed as the last remnants of the church were granted the release of eternal rest as even they were consumed by flames, leaving behind only ash in their place.

Cargil had fallen.