The Invincible Young Master

Chapter 252 - 252 - False Divinity

Spark of light erupted from where Reynold stood. The explosion of light that followed was overwhelming, so bright that even the endless void seemed to shrink away from it.

For a brief stretch of time, the world lost all shape and meaning. Above and below, ruin and emptiness, no longer existed as separate things.

There was only light, vast, silent, and expanding in slow waves, as if the very fabric of existence had been forced to bow before a higher will.

Space itself trembled. Invisible layers quivered and twisted, strained to their limit, before the brilliance finally began to fade.

When the light receded, Reynold was still there.

He hovered quietly above the broken flatland, exactly where he had been before, yet he was no longer the same man.

The thick scent of blood that once clung to him had vanished completely. In its place lingered a presence that felt distant and untouchable, like a ruler gazing down from a throne no one could see.

A soft divine radiance surrounded him, not heavy, not gentle, but absolute. It did not threaten or comfort. It merely existed, demanding recognition by its very presence.

Beneath his skin, faint cracks of light pulsed like veins of broken jade, appearing and fading in slow, steady rhythms. At times, his form seemed to blur, his edges thinning and dissolving for the briefest heartbeat before snapping back into clarity, as though reality itself struggled to decide whether he still belonged within it.

Without warning, an ethereal mirror formed at his side. Its surface was smooth and luminous, yet it did not reflect the ruined world around them.

The ruin lord's voice echoed through the fractured space. It began low, uncertain, then rose sharply as understanding took hold, followed by a hollow, humorless laugh.

"That mirror… I see now," it said. "So you are his successor. Emperor Julius. You truly uncovered his inheritance."

"So what if you wield a relic left behind by that man?" it said. "Do you truly believe that borrowing his tool makes you my equal?"

Reynold offered no reply.

His eyes remained calm and distant, as though the ruin lord's words were nothing more than meaningless noise carried on the wind.

With a single thought, the mirror beside him shifted. Its surface rippled like disturbed water, then slowly revealed a familiar image.

The two colossal spheres, one blazing like a sun, the other steeped in endless darkness, revolving in eternal balance.

It was the very core of the ruin lord's divinity.

In the very next instant, the image within the mirror stepped out of reflection and into reality.

Above Reynold's head, two celestial forms took shape, vast, and luminous. They mirrored the ruin lord's own symbols with unsettling accuracy, yet they were not exact copies.

The two entities revolved slowly around one another, balanced and calm, forming a halo-like presence above him.

The emptiness trembled again. Not from impact or raw force, but from shock itself, as though the void could not comprehend what it was witnessing.

For the first time since its awakening, the ruin lord's voice cracked.

"You dare…" it snarled, fury spilling through every syllable. "You dare mimic my divinity?!"

The voice surged louder, sharper, layered with laughter that scraped against the soul itself.

"A mortal dares to touch my divinity?" it mocked. "Tell me, little human, how long do you think you can endure that false power flooding your body? Look at you. You are already breaking. You are dying."

Reynold lowered his eyes to his outstretched hand.

The fractures of light beneath his skin had spread even further, branching across his fingers like glowing cracks in shattered jade. Each pulse of power sent subtle distortions through his form, ripples that bent the air and warped the space around him. It was clear now, his body was straining under the weight of something far beyond mortal limits.

"Yes," Reynold said quietly.

Despite the chaos tearing through him, his voice remained calm, steady, untouched by panic.

"This power is overwhelming," he admitted. "It is tearing me apart."

He lifted his head and looked toward the ruin lord, toward the massive revolving spheres that embodied its stolen divinity. There was no fear in his gaze.

"But it won't take me long," he continued softly, "to finish this."

He took a single step forward.

Space collapsed.

Distance folded inward like thin paper, losing all meaning under his will.

In less than a heartbeat, Reynold was no longer where he had stood. He now stood directly before the blazing white sphere, his arm already reaching toward it.

"Burn away."

The words were spoken lightly, yet they carried an authority that could not be denied.

Void flame erupted.

The white sphere had no time to resist. No time to react. The black-red flames swallowed it whole, devouring light, structure, and even the laws that held it together.

What had once shone like a miniature sun twisted violently, its surface warping and collapsing as the fire gnawed into its core.

A scream tore through the emptiness.

"I'm burning! I'm burning!"

The cry was raw, desperate, stripped of all composure. "Save me, Azeroth!"

The plea echoed briefly… then vanished.

The white sphere's rotation slowed. Its brilliance dimmed rapidly as the flames consumed it from within.

Moments later, it lost all cohesion and fell, dropping silently into the void below like a dying star, its light extinguished forever.

Reynold did not look back.

He turned instead toward the remaining dark sphere and began to walk. His steps were unhurried, yet each one pressed down upon the fabric of space itself, leaving subtle distortions.

"Arrogant human," a voice snarled from the depths of the darkness. The amusement was gone now. The mockery had vanished, replaced by hostility.

Everything froze. Time stagnated. Motion ceased.

Even the trembling void fell silent as an enormous claw of condensed miasma tore free from the darkness, surging toward Reynold within that suspended moment. Its edges were sharp enough to rend existence itself, its presence overwhelming even in stillness.

Reynold did not move.

He stood calmly, expression unchanged, eyes lifting slightly as he regarded the frozen attack before him.

"Hmph," he muttered, faint disappointment coloring his tone. "Another stagnation."

He raised his hand a fraction, meeting the claw with steady eyes.

"I am no longer bound," he said, "by your insignificant authority."

"Shatter."

The claw fractured instantly.

Cracks raced across its surface, and in the next heartbeat it exploded into countless shards of darkness.

The surrounding space collapsed with it, splintering like glass struck by a hammer. Time itself broke apart, the stagnant moment unraveling into rushing motion once more.