NOX lunged toward VRITRA, his blade slicing through the void in a vertical arc, aiming to cleave his foe in half.
But from VRITRA's perspective, NOX's movements were agonizingly slow, as if time itself had begun to decelerate.
With effortless grace, VRITRA merely sidestepped, allowing the blade to pass within inches of his form. In that instant, NOX seemed to freeze in place—both he and the energy surging through his sword halted mid-motion, as though suspended in time.
Seizing the opening, VRITRA clenched his fist and delivered a devastating blow to NOX's abdomen. The sheer force of the impact sent a ripple through NOX's body, his very being struggling to process the overwhelming shock. Dragged forward by the momentum of the strike, he was then violently propelled away.
In the blink of an eye, he was sent hurtling through space, the energy he had poured into his sword discharging in a chaotic burst.
Everything had transpired within a fraction of single fleeting second.
The devastating clash ruptured the fabric of space itself, leaving behind scars of destruction that may never heal.
NOX's body was sent hurtling uncontrollably across the universe, tearing through galaxies that seemed as insignificant as specks of dust before his overwhelming momentum.
As he drifted through the void, the fissures on his body glowed with an ominous purple light, as if greedily devouring the remnants of VRITRA's devastating punch.
No, it was more precise to say that these fissures first distributed the force throughout NOX's entire body—dissipating its lethality—before absorbing most of it.
It was both an astonishing and eerily unnatural sight to behold.
Finally regaining his senses, NOX acted swiftly, driving his sword into the fabric of space and rupturing it like a fragile pane of glass, bringing his acceleration to an abrupt halt.
Even though the mysterious fissures on his body had absorbed 99.9% of the force from VRITRA's punch, NOX was still bound by "The Principle of Inertia". The lingering momentum ravaged his body from within, an undeniable reminder of his mortality.
NOX coughed up a mouthful of blood, his knee pressing against the Aether for support as he clutched his sword tightly, steadying himself against the vast, unyielding void.
He soon realized he was in a dire situation, akin to a rabbit facing a masterful hunter—the outcome all but inevitable. The rabbit would always become the hunter's prey.
And he was right. VRITRA transcended matter itself. In truth, he did not exist within this universe.
It was more accurate to say that he did not reside within this space-time axis at all.
In mortal terms, VRITRA simply didn't exist.
Thus, it was neither possible nor practical for NOX to so much as graze a strand of his hair.
Yet, despite the overwhelming odds, NOX refused to surrender. He was not driven by arrogance or blind defiance, but by something far more profound—a vow, carved into his very soul, to bring his family back from the dead.
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This unwavering determination was his driving force.
NOX scrutinized his body, searching for any abnormalities or internal damage. But to his bewilderment, there was none—not a single scratch, aside from the mysterious cracks.
At this moment, those very cracks seemed to be holding his body together, preventing it from collapsing like a fragmented puzzle barely held in place.
Then, a sudden realization struck him—a revelation so absurd, so unthinkable, that for a brief moment, he hesitated to accept it.
In an instant, VRITRA materialized beside him, launching a devastating punch toward NOX. With lightning-fast reflexes, NOX deflected the blow with his black sword.
Yet, despite his defense, NOX was flung through the void once more, his body trembling from the impact. Ignoring the agony that surged through him, NOX's laughter echoed madly, his mind slipping into a trance of True Madness. With each surge of pain, his madness deepened, driven by an unseen force that pulled him further into the abyss of insanity.
A sinister grin twisted across NOX's face.
As VRITRA observed his trance-like state, a surge of rage boiled within him at being ignored yet again.
"How dare you, a mere clown, laugh at my presence?" he roared, fury coursing through his voice. "I shall tear you to pieces!"
With a savage determination, VRITRA ceased holding back, no longer pulling his punches.
He unleashed a relentless barrage of strikes upon NOX, assaulting him as if he were nothing more than a lifeless target dummy.
Each blow delivered by VRITRA possessed enough force to annihilate NOX a thousand times over.
Yet, despite the ferocity of the assault, NOX welcomed each blow with open arms, his unsettling, creepy smile never once faltering.
The sight was so bizarre it left everyone dumbfounded. Even the three mysterious entities—who had previously been watching the battle with amusement and laughter—found themselves taken aback by the strangeness unfolding before them.
These three entities, cloaked in a mist-like aura, were not of NOX's Universe. They existed in a separate space-time dimension entirely.
It was unknown whether they had delivered the Universe Core into NOX's hands through VRITRA and Garuda merely to witness this absurd clown show or if they were using entertainment as a pretext for something far more enigmatic.
Regardless, they had been tasked with observing this universe for millions of years, a duty they performed diligently and without question.
Garuda, watching NOX with an intense reverence, slowly shed his usual composed demeanor. A creepy smile crept across his face, his understanding of NOX's plight far deeper than anyone else's. As he stood there, his golden aura surged like a furious river, its intensity so overwhelming that it nearly consumed Lucas and The Universe.
Upon noticing their predicament, Garuda swiftly retracted his overwhelming aura.
"I apologize for displaying such an embarrassing side," he offered sincerely. Yet, despite his words, the eerie smile on his face refused to fade.
Since the very beginning of NOX and VRITRA's battle, Lucas had been consumed by an intense desire to join the fray.
Yet, time and time again, Garuda had restrained him. The frustration pressed down on him like a heavy weight—shame and powerlessness gnawed at his soul as he stood by, unable to intervene in the conflict unfolding before him.
Unlike NOX, Lucas had yet to attain a Complete Concept.
In truth, he wasn't even certain if he could survive a single casual punch from VRITRA. The sheer disparity in power was suffocating, a cruel reminder of just how insignificant he was in the face of such overwhelming beings.
He hated being so powerless, unable to offer even the smallest help to NOX, who fought desperately in the face of overwhelming odds.
Sensing Lucas' turmoil, Garuda spoke calmly, his voice steady yet enigmatic.
"Do not be impatient, little one. Your moment will come—on a stage far grander than this. Rest assured."
His words carried an undeniable certainty, offering Lucas both comfort and a promise—that his time to make a true impact had yet to arrive.
While Lucas took Garuda's words as reassurance, the Universe beside him felt otherwise. A nagging feeling crept into its consciousness, an instinct whispering that Garuda's words held a deeper meaning—one that had nothing to do with the current battle.
Lucas could only nod in silent acceptance, clinging to the fragile hope that Garuda's words would prove true. Yet, as the battle raged on, a grim realization settled within him—there was a very real possibility that he might not survive this conflict.