The momentary stillness hadn't even settled.

The battlefield's brief hesitation—shock, recalibration, the sudden intrusion of something that should not be here—was cut off mid-breath as the ground screamed.

The earth abyssal's domain surged again.

An entire section of the remaining outer wall—ballistae, barricades, even some corrupted soldiers—simply folded inward as gravity inverted. What had been solid fortification moments ago sank like wet clay, dragged toward a rotating mass of corrupted earth that chewed and swallowed without haste.

The fortress wards flared in protest.

Runes ignited across walls and towers, overlapping barriers grinding against one another as they tried to compensate for the sudden pressure spike. Light fractured. Several sigils blew out entirely, their anchors snapping with sharp, concussive cracks.

Screams returned.

The battlefield would not pause for long simply because there was a new demigod on the field.

Aurem's arrival was an unstable variable. But a variable was all he was. He didn't have the strength to change the overall situation alone...or so was the general consensus of the other demigods on the field.

High above the chaos, Aurem remained motionless, butt still facing Kain.

He hovered with his serpentine body suspended effortlessly in the air, golden scales catching the fractured light without reflecting it. Instead, the light bent subtly as it passed him, as though reality itself found it easier to flow around his presence than acknowledge it directly.

His eyes were half-lidded.

Below him, domains collided.

The earth abyssal's influence ground against the lightning abyssal's storm-wracked domain nearby. Terrain warped and electrical fury lashed outward as spatial pressure twisted and snapped, the world struggling to reconcile incompatible laws from their domains being enforced simultaneously.

To Aurem, it registered as noise.

A persistent irritation. Like grit caught beneath a scale.

All of the domains gradually spread to within the fort, with their immediate surroundings falling either under the jurisdiction of the Wrath Demigod Abyssal or the edge of the Earth Demigod Abyssal. But none of the domains touched him.

Not because they were held back or failed to reach.

But it was more like the closer their influence crept toward his position, the more hesitant it became, as if the very concept of imposing itself there required justification it could not provide.

Aurem exhaled slowly.

His gaze drifted.

It passed over the fortress, the collapsing wards, the flailing defenders. Over the abyssal demigods—hulking, distorted silhouettes carved from corruption and resentment.

Then it settled on the demigod dragon fighting above it.

The reaction was immediate.

The dragon demigod felt it before thought could form.

A pressure pressed down along the core of its being. Its heart stuttered. The flames coiled around its fangs as it was about to release a dragon's breath sputtered mid-breath, dispersing in a ragged hiss.

Its domain, once roaring outward in defiant arcs that had an even stronger gravity-distorting effect than the opponent, compressed inward by instinct.

The dragon stiffened, its long serpentine body tensing reflexively before the motion locked halfway through. Its massive form dipped several meters in the air as internal control failed to obey.

No attack had been launched.

No energy had struck it.

No abyssal corruption touched its scales.

This was older than hostility.

Bloodline recognized bloodline—and his own found itself at a disadvantage. A huge disadvantage.

Confusion rippled across the battlefield.

The remaining high-grade defenders among the human side shouted in alarm as they saw their greatest aerial asset falter. Several beast tamers trying to reconstruct the sigils almost stopped what they were doing and prepared ot abandon this sinking ship immediately.

Only what happened next stopped them from doing so...

The abyssal demigods paused.

Opportunity flashed through corrupted minds.

If the dragon was being suppressed—if its focus was compromised—then now was the perfect moment to tear it down!

The Wrath abyssal moved first.

Its domain flared violently, not outward but inward, compressing into a focused cone of seething rage. The air itself screamed as a torrent of blackened, blood-red energy tore forward, carrying with it the madness-inducing pressure that had already driven lesser beings to slaughter their own allies.

At the same time, the gravity abyssal acted.

Space folded around the dragon demigod as crushing force snapped shut like a colossal rope. Debris, corpses, and shattered weapons were ripped off the battlefield and hurled upward, spiralling around the dragon's massive form as gravity inverted and intensified, seeking to pin it in place and tear it apart from within.

It was a practiced maneuver—rage to overwhelm the mind, gravity to break the body.

A clean execution meant to kill a demigod already off-balance.

The dragon reacted instinctively.

Its long body coiled tight, scales grinding against one another as internal energies flared in defiance. Heat and pressure surged through its core, but the invisible weight bearing down on its bloodline refused to yield. Its movements grew sluggish, control slipping as its vast form dipped lower through the air helplessly as the attacks from the opponent barrelled toward it.

Smack

Thankfully...

Before the attacks could reach him, they ended. Smacked away like a fly by Aurem.

One claw swept through the space beside him in a casual, dismissive arc. Preventing the attacks from hitting the demigod dragon.

Below, the remaining human defenders, who were considering fleeing, froze.

Then, slowly, breath returned to their lungs.

A hopeful thought took root in their minds.

Perhaps...

This new golden dragon was not hostile to their own demigod lord.

This was not an enemy intervention.

Panic reduced.

Some still trembled. Some still wanted to run. But running now would likely still just lead to death without the protection of the walls. They would just die more tired.

So they stayed.

Eyes lifted toward the sky as the dragon demigod continued to sink, not in defeat, but under a pressure that was humiliating rather than lethal, its vast frame lowering as though the air itself had decided it belonged closer to the ground.

Aurem finally spoke.

"Lower yourself."

The words were quiet.

They carried no energy. No skill activation.

They were simply spoken. Like a law woven into reality.

The dragon dropped another meter.

Its head dipped despite every instinct screaming defiance. Pride warred violently with survival, ancient fury clashing with a certainty burned deep into its blood: this presence stood higher in the hierarchy than it ever would.

Around them, the battlefield stalled.

Even the abyssal demigods hesitated, their advance slowing as something unfamiliar crept into their awareness.

Aurem's gaze remained fixed on the dragon.

"Your bloodline is lesser," he said, tone flat, almost bored. "That is not an insult. It is classification."

The dragon's claws curled in anger, gouging empty air.

Aurem's gaze never left the dragon.

"But although your bloodline is low...," he said, voice carrying mild contempt. "I am… short of hands at the moment. A certain stupid black tortoise is nowhere to be found."

His eyes narrowed a fraction.

"I will reluctantly accept you as an underling while I am here."

A statement of order, delivered as one might state the direction of gravity.

The dragon hesitated.

Seconds stretched. Every instinct screamed refusal. Submission meant survival, but at the cost of dignity it had never imagined relinquishing.

It was a demigod after all! A peak existence!

Not to mention it's bloodline being called 'lowly' was a huge blow to it! It had never experienced bloodline pressure before. Only its bloodline had pressured others! How could its quality be low!?

But after sending the pressure emitted from Aurem, it did have to admit its lesser status...

So, slowly, it inclined its head.

The pressure eased.

Not vanished, but loosened, like a grip relaxing without releasing. Mobility returned, though restrained, the dragon free to move but keenly aware of invisible limits it could not cross.

Before anyone could process what they were witnessing, the horned abyssal moved. More than any of the other abyssal demigods, it hated this demigod dragon the most!

And so it couldn't hold back the urge to attack for too long.

It had been watching.

Its domain spiked violently as it lunged, fury and ancient grievance igniting in equal measure. Its gaze locked not on Aurem, but on the fort's demigod dragon.

Old hatred.

Old wounds.

A chance to strike while an enemy bowed.

A spear of abyssal energy tore through the air, shrieking as it bent space around it, aimed squarely at the dragon's exposed flank.

The attack never landed.

Aurem didn't turn.

One claw lifted.

He waved.

The spear unraveled.

Not deflected. Not blocked.

It simply came apart. Corruption shredded into inert fragments, dissolving like ash caught in a breeze.

Aurem's head tilted slightly while turning to look at the horned abyssal demigod.

"When beating a dog," he said calmly, "one must look at who the owner is."

His claw snapped forward.

The horned abyssal vanished.

Well, more accurately, it was thrown.

Its massive form was ripped from its position, blasted backward through the sky with such force that its domain collapsed mid-flight. It struck the far edge of the battlefield like a meteor, carving a trench through corrupted earth and shattered stone before disappearing beyond the horizon, almost touching the spatial crack in the distance that led to the abyss.

Silence followed.

Not peace.

Assessment.

The remaining abyssal demigods drew back, retracting their domains by degrees.

They were not afraid.

They were recalculating.

From the fortress walls, Kain watched, pleasantly surprised by the power Aurem showcased.

Without looking toward Kain or paying attention to orders from him, Aurem's tail lashed once.

The motion was lazy.

A wave of abyssal constructs clawing toward the walls were erased. Their corruption dispersed cleanly, leaving nothing but scorched ground and stunned defenders.

No domain clashed.

No aftereffects lingered.

The battlefield stabilized slightly.

The fortress still bled. Wards flickered weakly. Enemies remained.

But it was no longer collapsing.

Aurem rose higher, gaze sweeping the field once more, aloof, disinterested, sovereign.

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