The battlefield was silent — not because the fighting had ceased, but because grief had smothered the noise.
Darian's blood still steamed against the blackened earth, his body split in two by the A* rank beast that had torn through even his water-forged defenses. His final, desperate attempt to shield a terrified freshman had ended in tragedy, and the sight of his broken form burned into every mind present.
But for Bolt… it was more than tragedy.
It was betrayal. It was agony. It was failure.
"DARIIIIIAAAAAAN!!!"
The scream ripped from Bolt's throat like thunder splitting the sky. His knees buckled, his hands trembled, and for a heartbeat the world narrowed to that single, horrific image — the comrade who had stood by him since the beginning, the friend who had fought alongside him through every storm, now lifeless and still.
The abyssal horde pressed closer, sensing the momentary weakness. Their roars drowned out reason, their hunger churning the air. And through the chaos, Kairos watched with those hollow, abyssal eyes — cold, distant, almost curious.
Something inside Bolt snapped.
Lightning roared out of him in a violent explosion, arcs surging into the clouds above as if the heavens themselves had been torn open. The ground shattered beneath his feet, spiderweb cracks racing outward as torrents of elemental power spiraled around him — water, fire, wind, and ice, all converging into a storm that screamed of rage and grief.
Kairos tilted his head slightly, a flicker of recognition — or perhaps interest — passing over his face. "So… the storm awakens."
Bolt's eyes, once bright and alive, now burned with something primal — not just fury, but resolve. His aura climbed higher and higher, past the limits he had once believed absolute. 10%. 20%. 25%. The power roared, trembling the air as reality itself strained beneath his presence.
And then —
BOOM.
It broke past.
40%.
The storm changed. It wasn't just a surge of elemental energy — it was creation and destruction entwined, the will of nature and wrath of gods given human form. The sky darkened as colossal thunderheads gathered above, swirling in reverence and fear. The earth quaked beneath his feet, rivers swelled and burst, flames twisted into dragons of wrath, and shards of ice glittered like falling stars.
From the heavens above, unseen by mortal eyes, two beings watched.
One was cloaked in celestial fire, his eyes ancient and weary — the God of War, the one who had chosen Bolt as his vessel. Beside him stood a serene figure draped in moonlight, a Goddess of Fate, her gaze fixed upon the storm below.
"…Impossible," the God of War murmured, his voice low and shaken — a sound rare from a being who had seen galaxies rise and fall. "I spoke the truth when I said his mortal vessel could only contain twenty-five percent of my gift. A god's word is law — written into the bones of creation itself. It cannot be overwritten."
The goddess turned her eyes toward him, a faint smile playing at her lips. "And yet… it seems your word has been broken."
His gaze hardened. "Not broken… defied."
Below, Bolt roared — not as a man, not as a warrior, but as a storm given flesh. His grief had become fury. His fury had become purpose. And his purpose had become power.
Kairos raised his hand lazily, abyssal lightning gathering in his palm. "Show me, then… what a storm without restraint looks like."
Bolt vanished.
In the next instant, his fist slammed into Kairos's jaw with such force the air detonated. Shockwaves rippled across the battlefield, sending beasts and rubble flying. Kairos staggered back — staggered — for the first time since the battle began.
The Elemental Warborn did not stop.
Bolt followed with a sweeping arc of water that surged like a tidal wave, crashing down with explosive force. Flames twisted with it, superheating the water into steam that blinded Kairos's senses. A burst of wind slammed into him next, driving him backward, and shards of ice embedded themselves into his abyssal armor, fracturing it with each impact.
The sky howled as Bolt's storm consumed everything.
Celestial Tempest watched from afar, their battle with the A-rank horde momentarily forgotten. Akane's flames faltered, Valea's light dimmed, Sylva froze mid-incantation — all eyes turned toward their leader as the impossible unfolded before them.
"Forty percent…" Kaori whispered, her aura trembling. "He… he broke through the god's limit."
Damian's shadows hissed in disbelief. "That's not just power… that's will. He's burning his soul to fuel that storm."
Aether's jaw clenched as wind whipped violently around them. "And he's not done yet."
Back in the heart of the battlefield, Kairos retaliated, his own abyssal lightning surging outward in a devastating blast that obliterated the ground around them. The collision of their forces split the earth like a scar, chunks of land rising into the air as if gravity itself bowed to their duel.
Bolt emerged from the smoke, his newly forged blade — Raiketsu — gleaming with untamed power. Forged from the shattered remnants of Ren's sword and reborn in lightning, it pulsed with both memory and vengeance.
"This ends now!" Bolt roared, Raiketsu crackling in his grip.
He vanished once more, appearing above Kairos with impossible speed. His blade came down in an arc of light and thunder, carving through the abyssal storm. Kairos barely raised his arm in time, the impact forcing him to a knee as the ground cratered beneath them.
Kairos's eyes narrowed, a faint smile curling his lips. "Good… Good, Bolt. Show me your hatred. Show me your despair."
"I'll show you something else." Bolt's voice was cold, deadly — a storm given words. "I'll show you what it means to fight for them."
With a roar that split the heavens, he unleashed his new signature technique. Lightning twisted around him, forming the shape of a colossal, roaring tiger — primal, furious, alive.
"Raiketsu: Lightning Tiger!"
The beast pounced, a blinding surge of elemental fury crashing into Kairos with enough force to level mountains. The explosion swallowed the horizon, a storm of light and abyssal darkness colliding in a maelstrom that tore the battlefield apart.
And in that storm, two titans clashed — one born of divine wrath, the other of abyssal hunger.
From the heavens, the God of War watched in silence, still shaken.
"He has done what no mortal should be capable of," he whispered. "He has rewritten fate itself. My decree was law — and yet his will shattered it."
The Goddess of Fate tilted her head. "Perhaps your laws were never as absolute as you believed. Or perhaps…" She smiled faintly. "This boy is not merely your champion. He is something more."
The god said nothing, his gaze fixed on Bolt, who roared through the storm with the fury of a thousand tempests.
Below, Celestial Tempest regrouped, battered and bloodied but united, their resolve rekindled by the sight of their leader's defiance. Darian's death still weighed heavily on them, Ren's sacrifice still bled in their hearts — but now, they had something else: hope.
And as Bolt's storm clashed against Kairos's abyss, a single truth thundered through the battlefield — a truth that would echo through history.
This was no longer a battle between warborns.
This was will against fate.
And for the first time, fate trembled.