"I'm still far… far from him, aren't I?"
The voice of the God of Hope came out softly, yet it carried the weight of bitter acceptance.
His breathing was heavy. Countless wounds covered his divine body. The once-pure white robe adorned with sacred golden patterns was now tainted by battle—torn in some places, scorched black in others. Yet, even so, his golden eyes still gleamed with unbroken hope.
His shoulder-length white hair fluttered with a wind that had no source, drifting through the vast void that had neither ground nor sky. There was no direction, no sound—only the quiet rhythm of a god's heartbeat echoing in the nothingness.
He placed a trembling hand upon his chest. The cracks across his body began to emit a faint green light. His wounds slowly regenerated, and the divine sword in his grasp—once fractured—was restored to its pristine form, gleaming with a soft golden radiance as if newly forged.
Before him stood a mysterious man—short violet hair, eyes as black as an endless abyss that swallowed all light. He wore a dark-blue robe that reached his knees, and the aura surrounding him weighed upon the world itself. He said nothing; he simply stared at the God of Hope with cold, knowing eyes.
The faint fractures across the blank surface beneath them slowly vanished—as if this dimension could never be harmed, even by the powers of gods.
"It seems you're not giving up yet," the mysterious man's low, calm voice echoed. A faint smirk formed on his lips—then, in an instant, his figure vanished.
Fwoosh!
The God of Hope raised his blade just in time—
CLANG!
The sound of metal reverberated across the void. The impact alone sent waves of energy rippling outward, distorting the empty air around them. His arm trembled, but he stood firm. Even so… he knew—the man before him was stronger.
"You wield the power of darkness, don't you?" the God of Hope muttered, swinging his sword in retaliation. Yet the mysterious man evaded effortlessly, his movements like a shadow passing through light.
With a sharp exhale, the God of Hope unleashed a colossal sphere of power—an explosion of golden and violet radiance expanding outward like the birth of a universe.
WHOOM!
Light engulfed everything.
But when it cleared—the man was still there. Unscathed. Unmoved. His black eyes met the god's with a calm, almost pitying gaze.
"I knew it…" the God of Hope whispered.
He extended his hand once more—this time, divine energy formed into Chains of Hope. Glowing golden links burst from his palm, wrapping around the mysterious man's body with blinding brilliance.
"You won't escape this," he declared.
But then—the man's body pulsed with dark-violet energy. A wave of pure darkness surged forth, thick and oppressive, distorting even the air. The faint light of this world began to dim, swallowed by the endless void that the man's aura created.
"The Chains of Hope… how beautiful," the man said with a smirk. "But meaningless."
BOOM!!!
The blast of darkness collided with divine light. The two forces struggled, sparks of gold and violet scattering like shattered stars. Then—
CRACK!
The chains broke.
The explosion sent the God of Hope hurtling backward, his divine form crashing through the airless space until he finally came to a stop. His body was bloodied, but his eyes… still burned with unwavering faith.
"This isn't over yet…" he said through his breath.
He raised his sword high. Holy fire erupted around him, swirling and roaring, its color a brilliant mix of white and violet. From that sacred blaze emerged a Phoenix of Holy Flame, spreading its wings wide and crying out in defiance.
The mysterious man simply raised his hand. The air twisted violently, forming a massive Dragon of Stormwind born from raging tempests. Its roar was low, primal, and filled with dark majesty.
The two elemental titans faced each other—light against darkness, flame against wind.
Then they clashed.
BOOOOMMMMM!!!
The collision shook even the timeless void. Sacred fire met the black gale, hope met despair. The radiance of their battle consumed everything in blinding brilliance.
As the storm faded, the Phoenix's flames began to wane; its light dimming. The Wind Dragon trembled as well, its power flickering from exhaustion. Both forces slowly dissolved into shimmering fragments that floated away like dying stars.
The God of Hope fell to one knee, gripping his sword for support. Droplets of golden blood touched the ground.
"I'm still not there yet… but I won't stop."
The mysterious man smiled faintly. "Your power is beautiful… but this world isn't moved by hope alone."
For a moment, both of them laughed—not out of mockery, but in mutual understanding.
"The pride of the strong…"
"Neither of us will ever bow to the other."
From being utterly overpowered, the God of Hope started to rise again. His movements grew sharper, his strikes faster, and the divine light surrounding him burned brighter than before—so bright that even the shadow of his opponent began to fade away.
"You're… regaining strength?" the mysterious man murmured, his black eyes narrowing in mild astonishment.
The God of Hope didn't answer. Instead, he smiled—a calm, radiant smile born not of arrogance, but of faith.
For he knew better than anyone…
His power did not come from brute force or destructive might, but from the resolve to never give in.
The closer he was pushed to despair, the more fiercely the flame of hope inside him blazed.
Yet, the man before him was still far beyond his expectations. His strength was quiet, deep, and suffocating—like an endless abyss. Even as the God of Hope pushed himself to the brink, he could not shake the man's composure.
The sound of clashing metal and divine force thundered through the void.
CLANG! BOOM! CRASH!
Each impact distorted the air itself, sending waves rippling through space. Neither of them weakened—their powers only grew stronger, as if they were fueling each other beyond the boundaries of cosmic law.
Their movements surpassed the speed of light, their radiance outshone a thousand suns.
Then—
In a fleeting instant, the mysterious man saw an opening. Without hesitation, he drove his blade forward.
SHNK!
Golden blood splattered into the air, glittering like a thousand falling stars.
But at that very same moment, the God of Hope countered. His sword sliced across the man's side, releasing a blinding burst of light. Both were thrown back, their divine bodies forced apart by the sheer power of their exchange.
The God of Hope staggered, clutching the wound on his chest. Golden blood dripped to the ground, glowing faintly against the pale nothingness. He tried to heal it—but the wound resisted. A curse of darkness lingered within it, halting even divine regeneration.
The mysterious man didn't advance. He simply stood still, watching with those unreadable black eyes—an expression caught between contempt and curiosity.
Blood continued to trickle down the god's arm. It wasn't fatal… but it was enough to shift the balance against him.
"It seems your hope is beginning to fade, God of Hope," the man said coolly, his tone like ice.
But instead of anger, the god smiled—a soft, gentle smile that shone even through pain and blood.
"True hope," he whispered,
"never fades… it merely hides—waiting for the right moment to rise again."
After the mysterious man had merely stared at the God of Hope with those cold, unreadable eyes, he suddenly lunged forward, like a storm of darkness incarnate. His strikes came in relentless succession, each one sharper and faster than the last.
The God of Hope managed to withstand every attack—but his body was beginning to falter. Each time the mysterious man's blade came crashing toward him, there were moments he could not fully block, forcing him to retreat carefully.
The mysterious man followed him relentlessly. Dark energy surged behind God of Hope, a violet aura chasing him, steadily reducing his speed. Soon, the man could close the distance with ease, his every move precise and unyielding.
Then the mysterious man unleashed a massive wall of dark power, the air vibrating with an intense violet aura. God of Hope realized immediately: he could shatter the wall—but it would take tremendous time and effort.
And while he worked to break it, the man could strike him at any moment. God of Hope had no choice but to stand his ground, facing him head-on.
He steadied himself, lifted his sword, and clashed again and again with the mysterious man. The sound of metal striking metal echoed throughout the void, each impact shaking their very bodies. Yet through it all, the God of Hope's eyes continued to shine with unwavering hope.