Unrivaled in another world

[: 3rd POV :] 

As Daniel gazed down at Zar'Kael, now transformed by his ascension, a quiet authority radiated from him.

Despite Zar'Kael's overwhelming new form, Daniel's confidence never wavered.

Zar'Kael, with his vast wings and imposing aura, stood tall, his voice full of pride and defiance. "You think you can defeat me? I have ascended! I am beyond your reach now!"

Daniel's eyes, cold and unblinking, locked onto Zar'Kael. W

ith a simple, cold mutter, he spoke the words that would change everything.

[: Irefutable Order :] 

"Kneel before me."

Suddenly, an invisible force gripped Zar'Kael.

His knees buckled, no matter how much he fought to remain standing.

His form shuddered, and he felt the immense pressure of Daniel's command pulling him to the ground.

Zar'Kael's powerful body trembled, but his strength was useless.

His pride was shattered as he was forced to kneel before Daniel.

"I said kneel," Daniel repeated, his voice final and unwavering.

Zar'Kael, unable to resist, dropped to his knees, a broken and humbled figure before the true power standing over him.

Zar'Kael's monstrous form towered like a god sculpted from nightmares—his wings unfurled like veils of infinity, his body etched with endless symbols of authority and oblivion.

And yet, despite all this, he knelt.

By Daniel's command, he had knelt.

Not through force, not through battle—but through will.

Through the declaration of an unshakable law that had no equal.

The Irrefutable Order.

But then, Daniel spoke—his tone dismissive, almost bored, and yet heavy with the weight of utter truth.

"What Ascension? What power?" He walked closer towards Zar'Kale, who was kneeling.

"It's all meaningless… if you can't even use it." He whispered with eyes that looked at him as though he were nothing bua trash. 

Zar'Kael shuddered.

Something in those words pierced deeper than any blade.

And his eyes made him feel worthless. 

They echoed inside him, within the hollow chambers of his soul, challenging not just his power, but his existence.

That single sentence shattered the foundation of pride he had built since his rise as an Overlord.

But then—rage.

A scream erupted from him. Not of pain, but of wrath and defiance.

"I am Zar'Kael, Warden of Void! You dare belittle me?!"

The ground cracked beneath him as he surged with furious resolve.

The Order began to bend—then splinter—until with a shattering crack of light and pressure, he broke free of the kneeling stance.

Darkness exploded around him like a flood unleashed.

He rose to his full, terrible height, breathing heavily, wings tearing space as they flared out behind him.

"If you think my power is meaningless, then you will witness everything!"

His voice was no longer a voice.

It was a roar that made the broken chamber tremble, walls melting into negative essence.

Zar'Kael raised his arms and began to invoke all that defined him.

[: Blessing: Abyssal Monarch :]

A swirling crown of void and decay emerged above his head. Darkness spread outward like royal banners, consuming all colour and light.

[: Stigma: The Forgotten Star :]

A dying sun blinked into existence behind him, pulsing with cursed radiance. Every flicker warped gravity and bled sorrow.

[: Grace: Eternal Dissolution :]

His body wept black mist—everything it touched began to corrode and unravel, as if his very presence was rot incarnate.

[: Throne: Black Infinity:]

A celestial throne manifested, impossibly vast, seated across the axis of existence.

[: Commandment: All Shall Fade :]

His voice thundered a divine truth that made even the illusions of immortality wither.

"Everything will fade. So kneel to the inevitable."

[: Core: Void Rebirth :]

His chest split open to reveal a spiralling sphere of pure voidlight—a black sun reborn, pulsating with the power to erase and recreate.

[: Origin: The First Silence :]

And finally, silence. A deafening, primordial stillness that predated all creation settled over the chamber, as though the universe itself had inhaled—and never exhaled.

All seven powers coalesced into a monstrous storm.

Planets could have been destroyed by the gathering of such force.

Galaxies might have bent around their presence.

Every element of Zar'Kael's existence surged forward into one final, all-consuming attack aimed squarely at Daniel—lightless beams, collapsing gravity, searing echoes of forgotten gods, and the abyssal scream of the Origin.

It was the combined legacy of his powers.

It was meant to end Daniel.

But then—

[: Truth of Command :] 

Daniel, unshaken, simply raised his hand.

And softly muttered,

"Stop."

Instantly.

The chamber froze.

Everything halted mid-motion.

Zar'Kael's divine blast, at the height of its fury, solidified midair—each strand of abyssal essence, each cursed flame, held like flies in amber.

The powers of the void, time, gravity, corruption, and silence—all suspended, paralysed by a single word.

Order of Command is a skill belonging to World Tyrant: Conquer of All Existence, and it's simply a higher and more powerful version of Irefutable Order, where it can affect anything as Daniel desires. 

Zar'Kael's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

"W-what…?"

He couldn't move.

His attacks—his everything—was frozen by Daniel's voice alone.

It had affected all of his buffs, divinity and even his ascension.

Then Daniel stepped forward slowly, golden crown gleaming under a light that came from nowhere, golden sword aura flaring behind him in silent majesty.

He didn't look impressed.

He didn't even look angry.

Just… calm.

Disappointed.

"All that show… and not a single result," Daniel said softly.

Then, raising two fingers, he whispered a second word.

"Disappear."

No energy wave.

No flash.

No grand explosion.

The attacks simply vanished.

Not dispersed. Not blocked.

They ceased to exist. As if they had never been formed in the first place.

The void trembled.

Zar'Kael staggered back, as though part of his soul had just been erased.

"N-no… No! That's not possible! My abilities are absolute! They are—"

"Yours?" Daniel cut in, his voice sharp.

"You think power is yours just because you have it?" He stepped forward again.

''How disappointing for such a grand title of 'Overlord' to be granted to you''

"You wield powers like a child holding matches and think yourself king. But true kings don't throw their power."

He lifted a hand to the golden aura behind him.

The sword pulsed once in silent judgment.

"They are the power."

Daniel's voice dropped, almost a whisper, full of terrifying clarity.

"You ascended to something new, Zar'Kael… but I'm above all of that."

Zar'Kael took a step back as he was freed, but only when Daniel allowed him to.

He was trembling now—not from pain, but from something worse.

The terrible, crushing realisation—

He had used everything.

And it wasn't even enough to make Daniel move.

"…This can't be," he whispered.

"This can't be real…"

And Daniel?

He didn't answer.

He just looked down at Zar'Kael like one might look at dust on the edge of a throne.

Unworthy.

Forgettable.

And about to be erased.

Zar'Kael, the last of the Seven Overlords, who once towered above nations like a god, now stood broken. 

His hands, once conduits of stars and commandments, now trembled—not with rage, but fear.

The same fear mortals once felt when they whispered his name.

And now... he whispered another's.

"Please…"

Zar'Kael fell to one knee, eyes wide and trembling.

Gone was the pride, the wrath, the sovereign weight of a ruler.

All that remained was a flickering soul caught in the gravity of something far beyond him.

"I beg you," he gasped, voice cracking with desperation.

"I see it now—I see what you are! Something that shouldn't exist in this era… something we… we were never meant to fight. Please… I surrender."

His words echoed hollowly in the chamber, swallowed by the divine stillness that wrapped around Daniel like a mantle.

Daniel said nothing at first.

He simply stood there, crowned, armoured in golden annihilation, the floating sword of radiant judgment still hovering behind him, unmoving.

And then, he finally looked down.

His eyes held no pity.

Only inevitability.

"Surrender?" Daniel repeated, his voice quiet. "You burned civilisations. Turned lives into corpses. Ripped dreams from the minds of children. And now that you've lost, now you beg for mercy?"

Zar'Kael's breath hitched, black tears falling from his eyes, sizzling against the broken floor.

"I was following Order! I was preserving our Dominion!" he shouted, voice breaking.

"I had no choice! You must understand!"

Daniel stepped forward. The sword behind him flared with golden fire, humming in tune with his heartbeat.

"And now you understand what I've become," he said coldly.

Zar'Kael's voice dropped to a sobbing whisper.

"Then spare me… l- please… I beg of you…"

Daniel looked at him—this ancient Overlord, this being who once billions of monsters, now reduced to nothing but a begging fragment of terror.

And he gave his judgment.

"No."

Zar'Kael's eyes widened.

"W-what…?"

Daniel slowly raised his hand, and behind him, the golden sword rose from his back, glowing with a divinity that no scripture had ever recorded, trembling with laws that rewrote existence itself.

His voice, when it came, carried the weight of all creation.

"End of Order."

Time stopped.

The sword struck.

There was no flash.

No scream.

No resistance.

There was only... erasure.

The golden blade cleaved not his body, but everything.

His past was obliterated.

His future is undone.

His present served.

Zar'Kael did not die.

He did not even fall.

Because death was a concept still rooted in existence. In continuity.

And Daniel had denied him even that.

The very concept of Zar'Kael was removed from the universe.

He had been unwritten.

Even the space where he once stood corrected itself, as if the universe was embarrassed to remember it had once made room for him.

There was no record.

The name Zar'Kael became a contradiction—a word that had never been spoken, a sound that the world rejected like a failed equation.

Daniel slowly lowered his hand.

The golden sword behind him returned to its still position, the glow quieting into slumber.

Silence returned.

But this time, it was not filled with dread.

It was filled with completion.

A final judgment, delivered not by wrath.

But by order absolute.

And above the world, where divine systems and celestial registers recorded all things, a blank space remained—where once the name of an Overlord had been etched.

Now, even the stars did not know him.

There was no Zar'Kael.

There had never been.