Primordial Heir: Nine Stars

Nero raised his head, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his jaw like molten wax. The sharp scent of iron lingered in the air, mixing with the steamy remnants of the Water Knight’s destruction.

His legs trembled, barely keeping him upright, yet he stood tall—his flame-tattered cloak fluttering weakly in the breeze of the battlefield.

”What’s wrong?” he rasped, his voice hoarse, raw with pain—but burning with defiance.

”Running out of puppets?”

His eyes glared up through blood-smeared lashes, unwavering.

The demonized mage narrowed his glowing eyes, a grimace of displeasure twisting his handsome but distorted face. Cracks of corruption webbed across his cheekbones. He was no longer amused. No longer entertained.

’I don’t have much prana left anyway... Maintaining this second form drains me more than expected.’

He gripped his trident tightly, its core pulsating with dark water mana. ”Then let’s end it,” he murmured, his voice chillingly quiet—yet it echoed across the ruined land like a curse.

Suddenly—

CRACK!

Nero’s instincts screamed. In a heartbeat, he launched into a double backflip, flames bursting beneath his heels.

Just as he rose into the air—

WHOOSH!!

—a massive serpent made of twisting water erupted from the ground like a viper, its jaws snapping shut a hair’s breadth from his ankle. The fangs missed—barely—but he had no time to celebrate.

His eyes flashed. More incoming.

Nero summoned his flame wings, wrapping them around himself in a fiery cocoon midair, a reflex honed through countless battles.

”Explode.”

The mage’s whisper came down like a sentence.

BOOOOOM!!

The serpent detonated, not with fire, but with water—hundreds, thousands of droplets turned razor-sharp, pelting Nero like a swarm of steel needles. The pressure was immense—his winged shield buckled.

Nero was blasted out of the sky, his body a red blur tumbling across the scorched battlefield. Rocks shattered beneath him. His flesh tore. Blood splattered. He slid to a halt, a trail of flame and blood in his wake.

He coughed violently, spitting crimson onto the earth—but still stood up, wobbling, broken, yet defiant.

”I’m not done yet...”

High above, the demonized mage lifted his trident once more, eyes cold as the abyss. The sky darkened, clouds twisting unnaturally, black and pregnant with power.

Then—

”HEAVY RAIN.”

He brought the trident down.

And the heavens wept.

At first, the downpour seemed ordinary. Cold, heavy—but survivable. Nero blinked through the sheets of water, his breath steaming against the chill.

Then it hit him.

Each drop had weight. Unnatural weight.

Thud!

A single step. His body suddenly felt ten times heavier, every movement a struggle, as if dragged by chains of lead. The raindrops hammered against him like invisible hands pressing him down.

”He’s manipulating the water density...”

Nero gritted his teeth. This wasn’t just rain. This was gravity turned into a storm.

He almost smirked, despite the pain. ”What a clever technique... I’ll remember this.”

But now was not the time for admiration.

The mage moved again, and with a flick of his fingers—

Ten water serpents slithered into existence, arcing around Nero from all sides like an execution squad.

They struck—simultaneously.

SPLASH! SHHHK! CRACK!

Nero spun his flame sword in a perfect arc, the blade cutting through one, then another, their forms dispersing into steam and mist.

But the weight of the downpour slowed him.

He moved like a warrior in a nightmare, every motion dragged through tar. His limbs resisted him. His blade lagged.

One snake slipped past his guard—it wrapped around his leg, slicing deep. Another lashed across his back, ripping through his charred cloak, beautiful blue tattoo was displayed but nobody was in the mood to enjoy it.

”Tch...!”

But he didn’t falter.

His eyes glowed a strange crimson hue—his analysis-type vision, a unique trait that allowed him to see through the spell structure, deconstruct it, and find its weaknesses.

’There! The prana flow stabilizer—right below the base coil.’

He slashed, precise, and the serpent burst apart.

Another. Then another.

He struck again and again, calm, measured, like a conductor orchestrating a dance of fire and death.

His clothes were torn. His flesh ragged.

Blood streamed down his arms, legs, chest.

But his expression never wavered.

His mind was cold—his soul burning. Each move grew faster, tighter, sharper.

Something inside him was awakening.

The demonized mage scowled. ”How is he still standing?”

He created more snakes, weaving them into larger forms now—hydra-like monstrosities, each head snapping, spitting water bullets that cracked the earth.

Nero lifted his head. His wings were nearly gone, burned out, his prana nearing depletion.

Yet his aura suddenly intensified—not brighter, but denser, colder.

His flame sword reshaped, twisting like liquid, forming a twin-blade shape, swirling fire along its edges.

He let out a low breath, steam rising from his lips.

Then—he moved.

BOOM!!

The ground erupted as Nero surged forward.

He vanished from sight—

Only to reappear midair, his new twin-blade slicing downward like a blazing comet.

The hydra-serpent shattered, pieces of boiling water raining below.

”HAAAAH!!”

Nero spun midair, cutting through five serpents in a blink, each slash followed by an eruption of fire.

The rain slowed him—but no longer stopped him. His movements adapted, bending through the pressure like a flame in the wind.

However, the mage wasn’t done.

He slammed his trident into the ground.

”Cascade Wall!”

A massive wave of water exploded upward in front of Nero—a towering tsunami, aiming to crush him like a bug.

’I can’t dodge this...’

Nero threw one of his twin-blades into the wall, then charged behind it, slamming his palm forward.

”Flame Disruption Burst!”

The sword detonated inside the wall, creating a hole just big enough for him to shoot through.

He burst out the other side—body drenched, eyes blazing, second sword spinning behind him like a fiery wheel.

The mage’s eyes widened.

’Too fast...!’

Nero flashed above him, crashing down like a divine judgment, blade-first.

BOOOOOOM—!!!

The ground cracked.

Steam and flames erupted in every direction.

The trident was torn from the mage’s hand, his body slammed into the earth, coughing blood.

Silence fell—only the rain continued to fall.

Nero stood over him, sword crackling.

His body was trembling, more blood than skin, his energy near zero. He should have been happy but right now his face wore a heavy expression, the fight had reached its climax missing only one thing: the fall of the curtain.