The violence escalated from a clash of steel and muscle to something far more fundamental: a war of reality itself.
Rex Rexilion's next move was a cataclysm. His hands blurred as he wove together two of the most devastating disciplines in existence.
VROOOOOOM CRACKLE!
With his left hand, he summoned the fury of Elemental Mastery, conjuring a torrent of superheated plasma that screamed through the air like a dragon's breath.
Simultaneously, his right hand twisted in a complex gesture of Gravity Manipulationgravity manipulation.
The air around the plasma stream didn't just burn; it collapsed inward, creating a localized gravitational well that dragged the flames into a spinning, hyperdense vortex.
WHOOOOOOOM!
The attack roared toward Xerollion, a spiraling lance of elemental destruction and crushing force. But Xerollion did not flinch.
He didn't even adopt a defensive stance. Instead, he met the vortex head-on with the terrifying nonchalance of a god meeting a child's tantrum.
