My Infinite System.

The citadel was gone.

The roof had caved, walls split and melted, the throne shattered into rubble. Fire ate everything, golden and black, the night sky exposed above where the ceiling had been. Ash fell like snow through the air, glowing faint in the storm of heat.

Lucian stood bloodied in the center, chest split, his side torn open. His shirt was gone, skin burned raw in patches, but his golden eyes still glowed sharp. His mana flared steady, endless, wrapping him in a storm of warped space and twisted time.

Across from him, Taragon loomed in his Beta form. His mane blazed like a crown of suns, his frame doubled in size, his claws molten white, his aura pressing down like the sky itself was falling. His breath came out in clouds of golden fire, each one burning holes in the stone floor.

Lucian flexed his hand, fingers trembling. He could feel it—the difference. Even with infinite mana, even folding time and space until reality bled, Taragon’s sheer authority crushed it. Beta rank wasn’t just power—it was command. His roar bent the world itself.

If he kept fighting like this, he would be torn apart.

Lucian’s smirk faltered, just for a second, before sharpening again. His eyes narrowed, and his chest rose and fell slow. He whispered to himself, low enough for the flames to almost swallow it.

”Then I’ll stop playing.”

The air shifted.

Taragon’s white-hot gaze sharpened, his claws flexing. ”What are you plotting, human?”

Lucian lifted his hand. His blood dripped, pattering faint on the molten stone. Space warped faintly around his fingers, but this time it wasn’t the quick, sharp fold of a strike. It was heavier. Deeper. Something that bent beneath thought itself.

A ripple spread outward from his body. Not just mana. Not just folded space. It was something wider, heavier, conceptual. The fire in the air stuttered, flames bending sideways like they no longer remembered how to burn. Time wavered, seconds stretching like molten glass.

[Conceptual Dominion.]

Lucian’s eyes glowed brighter, bleeding into white, the light sharp and unyielding. ”Epsilon,” he whispered. His voice cracked the silence like thunder.

The chamber bent.

Reality twisted.

The air collapsed into lines of fractured glass, the battlefield warping into his Dominion. Time no longer ran straight. Space no longer obeyed. The ground stretched in spirals, flames froze in midair, dust hung unmoving. Everything inside bent to his concept: spacetime, absolute and unbroken.

Taragon snarled as his flames dimmed, flickering unstable. ”What trick is this?!” He swung his claw, golden aura blazing. But when it cut forward, the strike fractured, split into pieces before it even reached Lucian. The roar of fire bent sideways, the claw sliced through warped air, its force scattered into nothing.

Lucian stepped forward, calm now, his wounds steaming but closing in the Dominion. ”This isn’t a trick.” His voice echoed through the warped chamber, layered like a hundred voices speaking at once. ”This is my world.”

He blurred forward. Taragon’s eyes widened, his aura flaring, but Lucian was already at his chest. His fist drove forward, space folding infinitely around his knuckles. The blow detonated, crushing inward with impossible weight.

The Lion King roared in pain, golden blood spraying, his Beta form staggering back.

Lucian didn’t stop. His strikes came faster, each one bending reality to his will. A palm strike that folded gravity into a crushing force. A kick that froze time for a fraction, landing before Taragon could react. Each blow broke more of the king’s flesh, his mane scattering into burning strands.

Taragon howled, his Kingly Authority pushing outward. His roar shattered the sky, his golden aura crushing down. But inside Lucian’s Dominion, it broke. The sound warped sideways, its pressure muted, its command erased.

Lucian tilted his head, smirking faintly. ”Your roar doesn’t matter here.”

Taragon bared his fangs, his eyes wide with fury. His claws slashed again and again, each strike enough to split mountains, but Lucian’s Dominion bent them. His claws missed by inches, his flames scattered across warped air. Every attack was twisted out of reach.

Lucian’s hand pressed forward once more. Reality collapsed into a blade, thin and sharp. He dragged it across Taragon’s chest, carving a deep gash. Golden blood poured, hissing as it hit the warped ground.

The Lion King roared louder, his voice cracking into desperation. ”IMPOSSIBLE!” His aura surged, his Beta form blazing brighter, flames roaring so high they swallowed the ruins of the citadel. His claws hammered down like meteors, his Kingly Authority pressing harder than ever.

Lucian staggered under it, his Dominion trembling, cracks running through warped space. Blood dripped from his nose, his body straining against the sheer force.

But mana poured into him, endlessly. His Dominion flickered—then surged back, stronger, brighter. His eyes burned white as he forced reality itself to kneel.

”Not impossible,” Lucian said, voice calm in the storm. ”I told you. Prey doesn’t walk into the predator’s den.”

He folded again, fists raining into Taragon’s face. His strikes broke teeth, shattered bone, warped flesh. Taragon bled golden rivers, his mane dimming, his claws shaking.

But still, he roared. Still, he fought.

Lucian grabbed him by the mane, pulling him down. Space folded into a collapsing sphere in his other hand. He slammed it into Taragon’s chest.

The explosion shattered the citadel’s ruins, the ground collapsing into a crater. Taragon howled, his Beta form faltering, flames flickering weak. His aura staggered, his Kingly Authority cracking under the weight of Lucian’s Dominion.

Lucian stood over him, blood still dripping from his mouth, his body trembling but his gaze steady. He lifted his hand one last time. ”It’s over.”

Taragon snarled weakly, golden blood pouring from his mouth. His white-gold eyes still burned, but his voice broke. ”You... are no human.”

Lucian smirked faintly, his golden-white eyes blazing. ”No. I’m worse.”

He drove his hand forward. Space folded infinitely, collapsing into Taragon’s core. The Lion King roared one final time, his Beta form exploding into fire and blood. The shockwave ripped the valley apart, flames shooting high into the night.

When the smoke cleared, Lucian stood alone in the crater. His cloak gone, his body burned and bleeding—but alive. His Dominion slowly faded, space settling, time returning, flames flickering back into natural rhythm.

The Lion King’s corpse lay at his feet, his head severed clean, golden blood steaming.

Lucian exhaled once, low. He lifted the head by its mane, blood dripping down his arm. His golden eyes dimmed back to steady light, his voice quiet.

”I told you I’d offer it to the Dragon King.”

The battlefield outside still roared, Lucy and Karl still clashing with guardians. But inside the ruins of the citadel, the Lion King had fallen.

And Lucian, drenched in blood and fire, stood victorious.