Unrivaled in another world

[: 3rd POV :]

The silence that followed Daniel's final words was brief, an eerie stillness broken not by time, but by wrath.

For the first time in aeons, the Seven Overlords felt something foreign rise within them.

Not awe. Not cautious.

But fury.

Unforgivable, boiling wrath.

The very notion that a mortal would speak to them as though they were beneath him… was an offence written in blood.

Zar'Kael, who had remained unnervingly calm throughout, stood with a sharp twitch of his fingers.

His form rippled like a living cosmos unravelling.

"…We shall see," he said, voice cold, sharp enough to crack bone.

"We shall see if you're still able to keep that same attitude by the end of this."

He raised one hand, and hundreds of pitch-black orbs formed mid-air like an eclipse frozen in time.

Then—

BOOM.

Each orb detonated simultaneously, a tempest of collapsing space and devouring dark matter that ripped through the chamber.

Columns cracked, the thrones groaned from the pressure, and for a moment… Daniel was engulfed.

But a strange vibration echoed.

A hum of something deeper than space.

From within the destruction, a dark violet orb had formed—a swirling singularity of void essence.

[: Void Singularity :]

Daniel stood untouched at its centre, arms lowered, eyes gleaming faintly.

The destruction was consumed—drawn into the void like droplets falling into an endless drain.

Zar'Kael narrowed his eyes. "...You absorbed it?"

Daniel tilted his head ever so slightly. "What do you think?"

A second later, light spears rained down like divine punishment, their glow so intense they vaporised the air.

They spiralled in from every direction, locking onto him with unerring precision.

"Moonlight Spearfall!" Saelithar cried, silver tendrils flaring from her back.

"Try escaping this."

Yet just before the impact, a mist coiled from Daniel's body.

The spears never reached him.

They were simply gone—erased.

[: Essence Devouring :]

"What…?!" Saelithar's voice trembled. "That's impossible. My spears—"

"They had power," Daniel replied, "but in the end, they are nothing to me."

Her expression contorted in disbelief.

But the assault hadn't ended.

Ixellion roared from the side, his body erupting in violet flame.

"Let's burn him down to nothing!"

Varnokh followed, spores clouding the air, his voice a guttural bark. "I'll rot his soul to dust!"

Myraen's webs shimmered as she spun threads of nightmare illusions. "He cannot survive all of us at once!"

Arguun's massive arms raised, gravity itself folding downward. "Crush him!"

Even the childlike Shyros opened his palm, whispering, "Dream...endless sleep...forevermore."

The six Overlords struck in unison.

Fire, rot, illusion, gravity, sleep, and decay—each a dominion strong enough to raze nations.

And all Daniel did was to exhale.

[: Oblivion Pulse :]

With a single breath, a wave erupted from his body—silent at first, then thunderous.

A pulse of annihilation.

The combined attacks slammed into it… and shattered like glass against steel.

The Overlords were forced back, their thrones shaking as debris and warped essence tore through the chamber.

"What… what is he?!" Myraen gasped, her threads unravelling in the wind.

"No. No, no!" Varnokh snarled, his spore cloud dispersing.

Ixellion was trembling now, his flames twitching erratically.

"No mortal has ever done that. Not even Sovereign-class Ascendants…"

Amidst the lingering shockwave, Daniel stood still, his hair fluttering, eyes dimly glowing with something ancient and cruel.

"You called yourselves Overlords," Daniel said softly. "But you forgot what it meant to be above."

His tone held no mockery now.

Only judgment.

And behind it… inevitability.

The tension in the chamber reached its breaking point.

Dust still hung in the air, swirling around Daniel like falling ash.

The silence that followed his last move wasn't peaceful—it was suffocating.

Ixellion's face twisted into pure frustration, his pride burning more fiercely than the violet flames around his body.

"Fuck this—let's see whether you can handle this or not, mortal!" he roared.

With that declaration, Ixellion surged forward, casting his entire body in roaring violet flames.

The Overlord of Infernal Dominion turned into a streak of fire, dashing across the chamber with godlike speed.

The air itself howled as he moved, and in an instant, he was upon Daniel, his fist ablaze with enough energy to rival a nuclear burst.

He struck straight toward Daniel's chest, aiming to end the fight with one fatal blow.

But the moment his flaming fist connected—

There was… nothing.

No explosion.

No shockwave.

No impact.

The flames that had once wrapped his fist with apocalyptic fury vanished—snuffed out without resistance, as though they never existed.

"W-What…?" Ixellion staggered back, his expression frozen in disbelief. "My flames…?"

Daniel didn't flinch. He simply stood there, calm as ever.

His clothes fluttered softly from the residual energy in the air, but his body remained completely unscathed.

"Sorry to burst your bubble…" Daniel said, voice low and disappointed. "But that was… disappointing."

Ixellion stared at his bare hand, disbelief turning into something uglier—fear.

Daniel lowered his chin, eyes gleaming with void-lit menace.

Daniel had used his bloodline abilities, Coat of Annihilation: Able to manipulate the will of Annihilation to encase any part of the body with annihilation that erases anything that it touches.

It wasn't just resistance.

It wasn't just durability.

It was the will of annihilation given form, and Ixellion had walked into it without knowing.

Daniel cracked his knuckles, his expression shifting from cold to predatory. "My turn."

In a single moment, energy surged around Daniel.

The void pulsed beneath his feet. His mana spiked like a rising storm.

He activated it—one of his most dangerous Innate abilities.

[: Balance Breaker: Anomaly Manifestation :]

The system of power bent to his will.

His strength multiplied once—twice—then again. Four times. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. One hundred. A thousand.

Every multiplication pressed against the world like a crushing star being born.

The chamber groaned.

The very gravity in the room was warped—crushed—under the sheer pressure of Daniel's rising power.

The floor cracked.

The air screamed.

The Overlords felt it, even from afar—the sense that something monstrous had awakened.

Daniel's fist glowed with an eerie, formless aura—one that didn't shine, but devoured light.

He stepped forward, dragging the weight of impossible strength behind him.

"Taste this."

He swung his fist.

It collided with Ixellion's chest, and what followed was destruction incarnate.

Ixellion's body was launched—a blur of purple and black—slammed across the entire chamber, crashing against the back wall like a meteor.

The impact cracked the chamber open, sending shockwaves rippling through the ancient throneroom.

Dust, debris, and fragments of the once-indestructible floor erupted like a miniature quake.

The entire room trembled.

Several of the Overlords shielded themselves from the aftershock, expressions ranging from stunned silence to dawning terror.

A crater lay at the back of the room—smoking, broken—and in its centre, Ixellion twitched, coughing embers and disbelief.

Daniel stood tall, his hand still lowered from the strike.

"...I held back," he said quietly, his voice echoing across the stunned hall.

The chamber—once an eternal fortress untouched by time—was now fractured.

The shockwave had carved deep into its bones, spiderweb cracks racing across the blackened stone like the scars of a dying realm.

Silence followed the impact—a silence so profound it screamed.

And at the far end of the room, embedded deep in a crater that hadn't existed moments ago, was Ixellion.

His body twitched faintly.

Armour—crafted in the heart of a dying star—was crumpled like dry bark.

The violet flame that once engulfed him, that had scorched legions, was gone.

Snuffed out like a candle.

The Overlords stared in horror.

"...That wasn't possible," Saelithar breathed, her voice cracking like glass. "Ixellion is... he's not supposed to fall. Not like that."

Myraen stepped forward, her expression pale with disbelief.

"He took a direct hit… after coating himself in the Eternal Flame. That flame should've erased anything it touched. Even laws of reality bend in its presence."

"But it evaporated the moment it touched that man," Shyros said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"As if it never existed."

Arguun grunted and stepped forward, eyes burning like magma.

"We've seen anomalies before. Plagues. Heroes. Aberrations. But never anything like this."

Zar'Kael narrowed his eyes, though even he looked... disturbed.

 Did you see it?" he muttered. "There was no recoil. No cost. He multiplied his strength to a degree that should have ruptured his body a thousandfold."

"But his flesh didn't tear. His bones didn't crack," Varnokh finished, voice low and tight. "As if this world welcomes his defiance."

From the centre of the crater came a weak, bloody cough.

Ixellion stirred.

His limbs shook violently as he tried to lift himself, fingers clawing at the shattered stone.

His breathing was ragged, his vision blurry.

"What… what is he…?" he croaked, trembling. "I couldn't even register the moment he struck…"

"Ixellion..." Myraen's voice cracked with rare panic.

"Don't move. You shouldn't—your core might be fractured."

"He wasn't even trying..." Ixellion whispered, coughing blood again.

"He hit me with a fraction. I felt it. That wasn't full strength."

A deep silence followed.

The Overlords—ancient beings who had reigned for aeons—stood shaken.

Not by defeat.

But by the unknown.

By the implication of what they were now facing.

Zar'Kael's eyes met Daniel's, who remained in the centre of the chamber, expression unreadable, calm as a tombstone, as if this whole confrontation was beneath him.

His aura didn't spike. It didn't rage. It simply existed.

And it was suffocating.

Daniel raised his head slowly, cracking his knuckles.

His voice cut through the silence like a blade drawn across flesh.

"Are you finished talking?"

And in that instant, they realised the truth.

It wasn't them who brought him into this chamber; it was he who had trespassed their domain.

This was the end that had come to collect.