Having successfully traversed the edge of the Mirror World, Aji had encountered the mysterious guardian who watched over the partition between the two planes. The white-robed entity had offered him the Water of Life and noted that a final choice awaited Aji once his sacred duty was fulfilled—whether to remain among the living or return permanently to the glass dimension.

Now, Aji stood at the beginning of his new path in the physical plane, sporting the youthful face of a man in his physical prime. He had returned to reality after twenty years of isolation.

Hearing persistent rumors that the world had fallen deeper into chaos and that the dark host was mobilizing to conquer the realm once more, Aji had made his way to a roadside tavern. There, he had crossed paths with Aaman, marking the official start of his reintegration into the physical plane—re-entering the world with a restored youth gifted by the Water of Life and a physical vessel fortified by the Soul Deep artifact.

"Why must you always sabotage every purpose of my life, Bagas?! What crime have I committed against you?!"

Shura could no longer contain the boiling hatred he harbored toward Bagas. At every turn, the youth had systematically dismantled his grand vision, his life's purpose, and his absolute ambitions.

Shura’s physical vessel radiated volatile dark parameters. He prepared to crush Bagas into powder, completely unable to suppress his murderous rage any longer. Raising both hands skyward, dark parameters erupted from his core like a massive midnight typhoon that tore straight through the upper atmosphere.

Aji centered his parameters, channeling high-density aura into his right gauntlet. He understood that this would likely be the final battle of his existence. Yet he felt entirely at peace; he had been granted a second chance to return and make things right, and he was determined to fulfill his mandate.

"I never interfered with your path, Shura! You are the one consumed by insatiable greed! Your twisted ambitions have destroyed the dreams and hopes of countless innocents. You even slaughtered our master, Grandfather Mahesa!"

Incandescent aura overflowed from Aji’s frame. He had prepared himself for this outcome, casting aside all lingering nostalgia for their shared past. This was the final duel, and he intended to bring it to a decisive end. Twice before, he had attempted to pull Shura back from the abyss, only for those attempts to result in the murder of Grandfather Mahesa and the sacrifice of his dearest comrades.

This time, Aji approached his battle with Shura with absolute, uncompromising resolve.

The two catastrophic forces prepared to collide.

Unleashing a pillar of midnight dark magic into the heavens, Shura vaulted high into the air, driving a devastating, wide-area annihilation strike directly toward the earth. The dark aura slammed into the ground, generating a high-yield kinetic shockwave with an absolute damage radius of ten kilometers. Shura saturated the sector with unreserved parameter density.

Shura operated under the calculation that his strike would obliterate everything within the blast radius, leaving zero survivors. He expected his own physical vessel to be caught in the devastation, yet he possessed absolute confidence that his mastery over Blood Supreme and Black Blood cellular regeneration would restore his body instantly. He had mastered the art of recovering from any catastrophic trauma.

He wished to see whether Bagas—the adoptive brother he had trained alongside since childhood—could withstand a cosmic-annihilation strike of that magnitude.

The resulting detonation shook the very foundation of the physical plane. The blast column pierced the upper atmosphere, and sheets of crimson fire instantly incinerated everything within their path.

The earth buckled violently, and thick, rolling billows of black smoke obscured the landscape. The haze lingered for minutes before an ocean gale swept across the basin, clearing the air.

As visibility returned, a solitary figure stood amidst the scorched earth, raising his right gauntlet skyward to catch the residual pressure of Shura’s strike.

Shura’s eyes widened in genuine shock. Aji’s physical vessel was repairing itself autonomously. The torn flesh and shredded skin knitted together in a fraction of a second—a regeneration profile resembling Black Blood, yet operating at a scale exponentially faster. The wounds sustained from the cataclysm vanished almost before they formed, restoring his body to absolute perfection.

As the smoke cleared entirely, an even greater shock gripped Shura. Every trace of the massive devastation he had just unleashed had vanished. The meadows, the dense forests, and the massive craters torn into the bedrock by his strike were entirely restored, as though the cataclysm had never occurred.

What manner of dimension is this? Shura wondered, acute confusion mixing with his rage. Have I been trapped inside an indestructible pocket reality? Furthermore, I sense zero human life signatures here—only the faint, distant presence of wild fauna.

Where in existence have I been brought?

"My turn, Shura!"

Having fully recovered from the residual trauma of the blast, Aji blurred forward at blinding velocity.

"Ultimate Ghost Speed!"

His operational velocity was so absolute that Aji’s physical movement vanished from ordinary perception. Shura relied entirely on his combat instincts to track the incoming vector.

Aji’s opening strike breached Shura’s perimeter, a high-density kinetic punch driving straight toward the warlord's chest. Shura reacted on instinct, crossing both arms in a defensive guard to intercept the blow.

BOOM!

Aji’s right gauntlet slammed into Shura’s crossed arms, generating a violent energetic shockwave. The raw parameter density behind the punch reflected nearly a century of unbroken, rigorous cultivation. Aji had trained unceasingly, refining his internal channels and mastering atmospheric mana integration to absolute perfection.

Shura gritted his teeth, planting his boots firmly into the earth. He refused to yield a single inch; he was the sovereign of the dark host!

Despite acknowledging the terrifying kinetic weight behind Aji’s punch, Shura held his ground, his mind flashing back to their childhood training days under Grandfather Mahesa.

Decades ago...

Shura had been hurled backward during a sparring match, and Bagas had emerged victorious in the contest of strength. Bagas had always approached training with superior focus and unyielding dedication. Walking over to where Shura lay sprawling in the grass, Bagas had extended a friendly hand to help his brother up.

Shura had slapped the hand away with a scowl, clenching his fists as he yanked a handful of grass from the earth and stood up, his face twisted in frustration.

"It is merely a sparring match, Shura," Grandfather Mahesa had instructed gently, walking over to pat his shoulder. "You need only train with greater discipline, much like Bagas. Strive to surpass your limits if you wish to match his depth."

Shura had brushed off the old master's counsel with a cold snort, turning on his heel and punching the empty air in childish defiance.

Bagas and Grandfather Mahesa had watched him walk away.

"I shall go after him, Grandfather," Bagas had offered, taking a step forward.

Mahesa had placed a heavy hand upon Bagas’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. "Let him be. He must learn to conquer his own inner turmoil. If he wishes to mature into a true grandmaster, he must learn to master his own emotional turbulence—otherwise, he shall inevitably be consumed by his own malice and darkness."

From that fateful day onward, Shura had convinced himself that Grandfather Mahesa favored Bagas above all others. He felt completely neglected following Bagas’s arrival. A dark, bitter resentment festered within his core, magnified when Mahesa casually mentioned that once the Blood Supreme was fully purified, its initial parameter infusion would be bestowed upon Bagas—while Shura was required to spend years cleansing his spirit of anger and envy before he could even touch the artifact.

Shura rejected that verdict entirely. Corrupted by malice, his mind convinced him that the sole path to surpass Bagas and force Grandfather Mahesa to acknowledge his worth was to seize the Blood Supreme by force.

Driven by insatiable greed, Shura had crept into Mahesa’s quarters while the old master slept, reaching out to steal the celestial artifact.

Unfortunately, Grandfather Mahesa had awakened instantly. Furious at Shura's reckless, taboo ambition, Mahesa raised his hand to strike him down.

Panicking as the old master reprimanded him, Shura seized the moment when Mahesa lowered his guard. Drawing a hidden dagger from his tunic, Shura plunged the blade straight into Grandfather Mahesa’s chest. The strike was intended merely to disable, but the fragile, elderly master succumbed to the wound instantly, collapsing onto the floor.

Horrified by his actions, Shura fell to his knees, throwing his arms around Mahesa's lifeless body in a frantic attempt to wake him. Yet the old grandmaster was gone, his heart pierced by the blade of his own adopted son.

"Forgive me, Grandfather! I was merely consumed by jealousy because you favored Bagas!"

Consumed by denial and self-justification, Shura buried his guilt, convincing himself that his actions were righteous. He resolved to claim the Blood Supreme and fulfill Grandfather Mahesa’s dream of a peaceful world in his own way—a world free from war, achieved by converting humanity into obedient, mindless thralls.

The dead would be resurrected under his dark parameters, stripped of free will, greed, and malice, ensuring absolute peace forever.

As Shura knelt cradling the lifeless master, Bagas had returned from a hunting trip in the wilderness. Catching sight of Grandfather Mahesa’s body sprawled upon the floor, Bagas had dropped his supplies and run forward, only to find Shura fleeing into the shadows with the Blood Supreme clutched in his trembling hands.

From that hour onward, Shura and Bagas had severed all ties, walking completely opposing paths. Shura dedicated himself to absorbing the Blood Supreme and raising a legion of dark cultists, while Bagas roamed the continents, seeking to preserve the legacy of Grandfather Mahesa through honorable martial cultivation.

"You lack the baseline strength to defeat me, Bagas!" Shura roared, straining his core against Aji’s heavy pressure, channeling an additional surge of dark parameters to push back.

"Keep your arrogance, Shura!" Aji replied, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "You have never learned the simple truth of how to witness another's happiness without seeking to turn it into chaos!"

Releasing the full density of his internal parameters, Aji harmonized his core with the ambient natural mana of the realm. The resulting parameter surge overwhelmed Shura’s defense, driving the Demon Lord backward across the grass under a relentless wave of heavy strikes.

Shura stumbled back, forced to yield ground under Aji's overwhelming momentum.

"Where is that divine strength you boast of, Shura? Is this the absolute limit of your capacity? If this is all you command, you shall never reshape the world!" Aji shouted, driving his fist forward.

Infuriated, Shura unleased a fresh torrent of dark magic, launching himself forward at high velocity. Aji met him head-on, and a catastrophic kinetic explosion detonated between them, shattering the surrounding environment.

BOOM!

Fist met fist in a continuous, high-speed exchange. The two titans blurred across the sector, discharging cataclysmic shocks wherever their aura fields collided. Every time their parameters met, nearby mountains crumbled into dust from the sheer shockwave.

Yet, the moment both combatants stepped back momentarily to reset their stances, the surrounding world automatically reversed its destruction, healing its wounds and returning every shattered landscape back to its pristine, normal state.