Martial Arts Vs Magic - Chapter 141

Chapter 141: When Gods Bleed

The world was ending above me, and I couldn't look away.

Every clash between my grandfather and Sahrazzakhan sent shockwaves through reality itself. Floating islands crumbled like sandcastles before a tide. The very air screamed as two titans reshaped Aethelgard with their fury.

"Quite the sight, isn't it?"

I spun, Kurayami materializing in my hand before I could think. A man stood beside me, hands clasped behind his back, watching the apocalypse unfold with the casual interest of someone observing a street performance.

He was tall but lean, with an easy smile that belonged nowhere near this chaos. Dark hair fell to his shoulders, and his clothes, simple traveling leathers, seemed untouched by the destruction raining around us.

My Sovereign's Gaze activated instinctively.

[Qadir Al-Faris, Duke of Valemont, Level 210]

I nearly choked. This was the man who'd raised my father. The Knight who'd found a street thief and molded him into nobility, before my mother married him. My grandfather's most trusted companion.

And he was standing here like we'd bumped into each other at a tea shop.

"Grandpa Al-Faris," I managed, lowering my blade. "Shouldn't you be... I don't know, fleeing? Or helping?"

"Fleeing from what? And helping whom?" He tilted his head, genuinely curious. "Your grandfather seems to be enjoying himself immensely."

As if to punctuate his words, Sikandar's laughter boomed across the sky. He'd just driven his fist into Sahrazzakhan's jaw hard enough to snap the dragon's head back, sending golden scales raining down like fallen stars.

"Besides," Qadir continued, "I'm exactly where I need to be. Standing next to the young man who started all this delightful chaos."

"I didn't start—"

"You challenged an Eighth Ascension dragon prince for his fiancée's hand in front of two of the most powerful beings on the planet." His smile widened. "If that's not starting something, I'd love to see what you consider provocative."

Well, fair.

Above us, Sahrazzakhan had recovered from the punch. His massive form twisted through the air with impossible grace, and I saw something shimmer around his claws. The air itself seemed to reach out, grasping, hungry.

It was a bit too similar to Grandfather’s punches earlier. What?

"Is he... stealing grandfather's techniques?"

"Ah, you noticed." Qadir sounded pleased. "The Crown of Avarice. Among the many powers the Arcane Crowns grant, each has a particular specialty. The Crown of Avarice allows him to steal techniques, abilities, even understanding itself."

I watched in fascination as Sahrazzakhan's movements shifted, becoming less draconic and more... human. He was mimicking Sikandar's stance, drawing his massive claw back in a perfect recreation of my grandfather's punching form.

Then he threw the punch, and I winced.

"That looks..."

"Ridiculous? Ineffective? Like a cat trying to use chopsticks? Indeed." Qadir suggested helpfully. "Yes to all. He can steal the technique and even the understanding, but at this divine level?" He shook his head. "Stealing doesn't work on punches. Watch, he's trying to throw martial arts with claws designed for rending. It's like trying to paint with a sword."

The stolen punch connected with Sikandar's crossed arms, and my grandfather didn't even budge. Instead, he grabbed the massive claw and used it to swing himself up, delivering a knee strike to Sahrazzakhan's eye that made the dragon roar in fury.

"Your grandfather is perhaps the only non-Arcane Crown bearer who could face Sahrazzakhan this way without immediate obliteration," Qadir observed. "Do you know why?"

"Because he's insane?"

Qadir burst out laughing. "You weren’t this quick with your words the last time we met. Well, yes, but that's more of a contributing factor than the primary cause." He pointed skyward. "Look closer. Not at the fighters, but above your grandfather."

I squinted through the chaos, and then I saw it. A symbol materialized slowly in the air above Sikandar, crackling with power. It was cracked and incomplete, but unmistakable to anyone from my previous world who'd read cultivation novels or games.

That's… That did not make any sense. That's the power of Law!

I recognized the exact symbol from both the game Chronicles of the Heavenly Demon God and my memories of the Heavenly Demon. Similar to the Demonic Law, better known as the Demonic Dao, it was a manifestation of Law. 

It was the [Law of Destruction].

The brackets around it pulsed with each of my grandfather's strikes, reality bending to accommodate a force that shouldn't exist in this world.

"The Romani family's roots are eastern," Qadir said, and memories clicked into place. I'd noted that detail on my first day in this world, and again when visiting Ha-Yun's home. "After marriage, your grandmother gifted your grandfather her family’s ancient scrolls that taught him to apply divinity in a different way. Most Ninth Ascensions can't really 'apply' it and they just have Skills related to divinity. But this?"

He gestured at the symbol, and I remained speechless. This is divinity made manifest through will alone. An Xianxia technique in a world of Sword and Magic.

My mind raced. The power of Law was common in cultivation stories, and it had existed in my Murim too. But here? In this world? How. Questions started appearing in my head.

Is there some world-shaking mystery behind this? Was my transmigration truly random? Had the Heavenly Demon discovered world travel and planted a family here, and was I just a descendant who'd inherited those memories? Or maybe was it the System itself, governing multiple worlds with techniques occasionally slipping through its portals?

"Regardless of the beautiful sight, however," Qadir interrupted my spiraling thoughts, "it's better we leave now."

"But grandfather—"

"Your grandfather won't win, boy." The words were delivered matter-of-factly, without emotion. "If we say Sikandar the Great is practically a demigod, then Arcane Kings are Gods on Earth. He won't sustain dramatic injuries, your grandfather's too stubborn to die and Sahrazzakhan's too proud to kill him. But we need to leave before this ends."

I fell quiet and then nodded slowly. 

I knew what the Arcane Crowns were from the game. Fragments of creatures that were called the original Seven Sins. On one hand, the original two deities had fragmented into Twelve Gods, who’d long since been replaced by the current generation of Gods, and on the other hand, today's prominent Devil Families were merely descendants of those seven sins. 

The Arcane Crowns? They were the Seven Sins’ essence fragments turned into items. Fragments of pure origin, Artifacts that granted anyone unimaginable power.

"When you say leave... I thought you were here to capture me."

"Oh, right. Yes, that's why I'm here." He waved dismissively. "You'll just fool me and flee ahead. Is that all good?"

"...Sure thing. But I have to get Solara and Amelia first."

Qadir's easy smile faltered. "The Dragon Princess? I don't think she'll come..."

"Let's find them first. Solara is with her anyway. I have to get her at least."

He sighed like I'd asked him to help me steal the moon. "Very well. Though I should mention, infiltrating the Royal Gallery during an apocalypse wasn't on my agenda today."

"Could be worse," I said, already moving. "Could be infiltrating it during a wedding."

"Don't give the universe ideas."

****

The pocket dimension writhed in its death throes, and Amelia Duskleaf stood frozen at the observation deck's crystal railing, watching her world literally fall apart.

Other dragon nobles scrambled past her, a few fleeing, while most attempted damage control with increasingly desperate spells. Lord Kethrion bellowed about emergency protocols while his son Kethrax tried to organize an evacuation.

"We should aid His Majesty!" Elder Vorthak declared, his ancient frame trembling with indignation. "This human dares—"

"And accomplish what, exactly?" Lord Vyrastion cut him off. "Provide Sahrazzakhan another target? He'd incinerate you for the presumption of thinking he needs help."

Amelia's fingers dug into the railing hard enough to leave marks. Below, in what remained of the arena, Iskandaar stood like a statue amidst the chaos. Why wasn't he running? Why was he just standing there while gods tried to kill each other overhead?

"We need to evacuate." Aurelius limped toward them, mostly recovered but still favoring his left side. Dragon healers were efficient, but even they had limits. "The dimensional anchors are failing. Another ten minutes and this entire realm collapses."

"I can't leave," Amelia heard herself say. "Not like this. Not when—"

"Not when your beloved is standing down there like an idiot?" Aurelius's tone was gentle despite the words. "Amelia, I remember you told me he has an infuriating habit of surviving the impossible. But we won't if we stay here."

Solara grabbed her arm, emerald eyes fierce with concern. "He'll be fine. He always is. The man regenerated his arms mid-battle, you saw it. But we need to go."

"You don't understand." Amelia's voice cracked. "If I leave now, if I flee while my father fights... I'm not just abandoning him or Iskandaar. I'm abandoning everything. My heritage, my duty, my—"

"Your cage?" Aurelius suggested quietly.

The word hung between them as another island crashed past the windows, its impact sending tremors through their failing sanctuary.

"It's not a cage if I chose it," Amelia whispered.

"Isn't it?" Solara's grip tightened. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks exactly like one. Just with prettier bars.” She yanked her by the arm, “Come on, we need to go.”

****

The corridors of Aethelgard twisted like a dying serpent's death throes. Qadir and I sprinted through passages that shifted and reformed with every step, reality unable to decide what shape it wanted to die in.

"Left here," Qadir called out, then immediately corrected, "No, wait, that's now a wall. Right! No, that's on fire. Straight through!"

We burst through what had been a solid door moments before, emerging into a grand hallway where three Gold Dragon guards were trying to establish order among fleeing nobles.

They turned at our approach, and I felt their power wash over me like a tide. Three Eighth Ascension dragons, each one capable of leveling cities.

[Alvarastra Dhaharian, Gold Dragon Honor Guard, Level 158]

[Thazurix Dhaharian, Gold Dragon Battle Mage, Level 162]

[Galiral Dhaharian, Gold Dragon Honor Guard, Level 164]

"Stand down," the center guard commanded. "By order of—"

Qadir's sword cleared its sheath with a whisper. "I'm terribly sorry about this, but we're in something of a hurry."

The battle erupted instantly. I'd grown stronger, Level 105 now after the recent fights, but against Eighth Ascension powerhouses? I could barely block their casual strikes. Every parry sent shockwaves through my bones, reminding me that defeating Aurelius had been a miracle born of preparation and his unwillingness to kill me.

These dragons had no such compunctions.

I ducked under a claw strike that would have removed my head, only to meet a knee that sent me flying. But the impact never came. Qadir had already moved, his blade singing through the air in patterns that hurt to follow.

"Handle the reinforcements," he called out cheerfully, as if asking me to hold his coat. "This won't take long."

Sure enough, six Seventh Ascension guards rounded the corner, drawn by the sounds of combat. Finally, opponents I could actually fight.

[Void Step]

I blinked through space, appearing behind them with Kurayami already moving. They were fast, trained, deadly, and completely unprepared for someone who could step between dimensions.

[True Demon Fist Art: Smoldering Strikes of the Serpent King]

My fists wreathed in dark flame as I abandoned swordplay for close combat. The first guard's armor crumpled under my strike. The second managed to raise a barrier, only to watch it shatter like sugar glass. By the time the sixth fell, Qadir had finished his own battle, three Eighth Ascension dragons groaning on the floor.

"You fight well," he observed, stepping over an unconscious guard. "Though your footwork could use refinement. Not that it’s bad, but you rely too much on that short-range teleportation skill."

"I'll add it to my list of self-improvements. Right after 'stop challenging dragon kings.'"

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?"

We continued through corridors that grew increasingly unstable. Cracks spider-webbed across walls that had stood for millennia. Chandeliers fell in slow motion, their descent warped by failing dimensional physics.

"You know," Qadir mused as we vaulted over a chasm that hadn't existed seconds before, "I've seen three realm collapses in my lifetime. This one's definitely in the top two."

"What was the first?"

"Oh, that was when your grandfather decided to arm-wrestle the Titan of the Northern Wastes. Completely different type of destruction. More ice, less existential dread. Ah, that’s when he earned the title of Titan."

We burst onto the crystalline observation deck to find the people I was looking for. Both Amelia and Solara were here, as well as Aurelius, all surrounded by fracturing reality. The relief on Solara's face when she saw me made my chest tight. She crossed the distance in a heartbeat, crashing into my arms hard enough to drive the air from my lungs.

"You stupid Iskandaar," she whispered against my chest. "Humiliating an Arcane King by asking for his daughter’s hand in front of everyone? Really? You didn’t tell me this was your smart plan."

"Technically, I challenged his future son-in-law. Sahrazzakhan took humiliation on that by himself."

"Semantics won't save you from my wrath later."

Aurelius, meanwhile, had gone pale at the sight of my companion. "The Titan’s Sword, Sir Qadir. You’re making it significantly more complicated by coming here."

"Lord Aurelius." Qadir inclined his head politely. "Lovely fight earlier. The sacrifice gambit was particularly inspired."

"You were watching?"

"Although I wasn’t in the Royal Gallery, of course I was watching. Everyone was. It's not often someone lets themselves be dismembered as a tactical choice." He glanced at me. 

Amelia stepped into the conversation then, all frowns and fury. "Your Lord’s grandson is a stupid little brat. What are your thoughts on him? His actions might cause a war between the Gold Dragons and the Erebian Empire, you realize."

"Only if we're caught," I interjected, while Qadir shrugged. "Amelia, we have to leave."

Her purple eyes found mine, and I saw the war raging behind them. "I can't. Stupid kid. Idiot. Idiot! My father—"

"Your father is currently trying to kill my grandfather. The political situation has moved beyond salvage." I gestured at the failing reality around us. "Whatever careful balance existed is gone. It won't matter if you chase freedom now."

"If I leave with you, it won't look good on my father." Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled. "Iskandaar, I love my father. I don't want him shamed because of my actions. People would call me a traitor to my own kind."

The words were heavy with the weight of centuries of tradition and expectation. I wanted to argue, to convince her that her happiness mattered more than perception, but I could see in her eyes that this went deeper than logic. Plus, I could only be so selfish.

Thankfully, I wasn't alone in this fight.

"Amy," Aurelius said softly, using what was clearly a childhood nickname, "if you stay, you'll spend the rest of your life married to someone you don't love, producing heirs for a kingdom that sees you as a broodmare. You'll wake up every morning for the next thousand years knowing you had a chance at happiness and chose duty instead." 

“....”

He paused, quicksilver eyes serious. "Which is worse? Being called a traitor by people who never saw you as more than a political tool? Or becoming exactly what they want—a beautiful, broken thing in a golden cage?"

"That's not fair—"

"Nothing about this is fair!" Solara interrupted, surprising everyone. "You saved my life. You hid me, healed me, gave me time to grow strong. And now you're going to throw away your own happiness because some dusty old dragons might whisper behind their claws?"

Amelia's gaze snapped to her. "Girl, do you even know why Iskandaar wants me to come with him? He loves me! He wants to- to be with me! As his lover yourself, how can you support that?"

Solara's cheeks flamed red, but she stood her ground. "I mean…! W-well? Well, because it's you. I've seen how he looks at you, and how you look at him. Didn’t you guys get pretty close during that Lockdarn incident or something? You already know how it’s between Iskandaar and me… There are Nebula and Lilian before me. So it isn't about possession between us girls, so yeah… Am I making sense?" She paused, then added quietly, “I'd rather share him with you than watch both of you die inside from being apart."

Solara looked quite embarrassed as she finished her words. Amelia’s face was bright red while Qadir made a sound that might have been a cough or poorly suppressed laughter. Aurelius was staring at me with something between shock and newfound respect.

"My boy," Qadir murmured, "you've been busy."

A massive CRACK split the air, cutting off any response. Everyone went serious once again. Through the observation windows, we watched Aethelgard's floating islands begin their final descent. Mountains of crystal and stone plummeted from the sky like falling stars.

"Decision time," Qadir announced with infuriating calm. "In about thirty seconds, this realm ceases to exist. After that, we'll be having this touching conversation in freefall."

Amelia looked at the destruction—at her heritage literally crumbling around us—and I saw the moment she made her choice. Her shoulders squared, and when she met my eyes again, the war was over.

"I'll come," she said quietly. "But not because I'm running away. Because someone needs to make sure you don't get yourself killed doing something even more catastrophically stupid."

"Is that so?" I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "And here I thought you were coming because you couldn't resist my charm."

"Your ego is showing already! Shameless brat!"

She hit me and I didn’t dodge. "It's not ego if it's accurate."

Before I could reply, another island crashed past our window, close enough that we felt the heat of its passage. "Perhaps," Aurelius suggested dryly, "we could continue this delightful banter while moving toward an exit?"

We ran. Through corridors that folded in on themselves, past dragon nobles teleporting away in flashes of golden light, under archways that aged a thousand years in seconds. Some tried to stop us, Lord Vyrastion materialized with two other Ninth Ascension elders, their combined presence making the air itself feel solid.

"The Princess goes nowhere," Vyrastion declared, power gathering around him like a storm.

The fight was chaos incarnate. Qadir engaged two dragons with casual efficiency while I found myself desperately trying to survive Vyrastion's assault. A Ninth Ascension dragon was so far beyond me it wasn't even funny, every casual gesture could have erased me from existence.

"Should I call for Father?" Solara shouted over the din, meaning Ao'kai.

I considered it. The Green Scale King was powerful, but at Level 205, he'd be captured or worse in this company. Before I could decide, four boulders themselves into the battle with a war cry.

“WOOHOO! ISKANDAAR!” Moui shouted amid the battle, ganging up on the dragons with his companions. “GREAT FIGHT! WE ALL SURPRISED! RAGH!”

It was a crazy sight. The foolish barbarians didn’t care to think of the consequences as they fought with a battle cry for my sake. Aurelius burst out laughing and threw himself amid them.

"For what it's worth, Amy," the Silver Prince called out, narrowly avoiding a lethal blow, "I thoroughly approve of your choice in men!"

But it was Amelia who ended it. Not with power, but with words.

"Lord Vyrastion," she said, and her voice carried the full weight of her heritage. "Please! I am not being kidnapped. I am not being forced. I am leaving of my own free will, to pursue my own happiness. If you try to stop me, you're not protecting the Gold Dragon legacy… you're destroying it."

The elder dragon hesitated, and that hesitation was enough. The mad Dragon Slaying Valtherians let out their rage, and we used that chance to burst past them, through the final door, and onto what remained of the arena floor.

Above us, my grandfather and Sahrazzakhan were locked in their final exchange. The Law of Destruction clashed with divine dragonfire enhanced by the Arcane Crown, reality screaming where they met. Both titans bled golden ichor that fell like rain, the smallest drop worth kingdoms.

“You! Sunder!” A voice called amid the chaos, and I turned to find Valeria Nocturne running toward me with the other Savage Seven. Their eyes were on my sword. “We’ve got some questions for you! Where-”

The pocket dimension gave one final shudder and shattered.

One moment we stood in Aethelgard's grand arena. The next, harsh desert wind scoured our faces as we materialized in an endless sea of sand. Around us, floating islands crashed to earth like divine judgment, the impacts reshaping the landscape. One such island crashed down on the Savage Seven, who had to flee backwards to avoid death quickly.

I tried to ignore the chaos and saw the good in it. Since the pocket dimension is gone, I can call for Nevaramis from here! I immediately reached for Nevaramis in my head, but felt Sahrazzakhan's will crash down like a mountain. Even while trading blows with my grandfather, the Arcane King had attention to spare for crushing my attempt.

"YOU DARE?" His voice was thunder and earthquakes. "YOU STEAL MY DAUGHTER AND THINK TO FLEE?"

The pressure was beyond description. Not physical, but something that pressed against the very concept of my existence. I dropped to one knee, blood running from my nose as I fought to maintain the summoning.

Qadir stepped forward, his own will rising to meet the Dragon King's. "Now would be good," he grunted, face twisting with effort.

But against an Arcane King? His will crumbled like paper in a furnace. Qadir, despite being a 9th Ascension powerhouse, fell to his knees and coughed out blood.

“Shit!” 

That… that was the difference between an Arcane King and an above average 9th Ascension. My grandfather was just stupidly strong.

Sahrazzakhan’s willpower made Solara nauseous beside me, and I grumbled in anger. I'd clashed willpower against 9th Ascensions before, but could I survive against an Arcane King? Even grandpa Qadir failed! 

 I didn't have any choice though. I had to give it a shot, at least. So I did something that shocked everyone present, myself included.

I let go as my willpower broke the dam.

The unbelievable willpower that came from the Heavenly Demon’s memories, and from my days in the kickboxing ring, came loose as it crashed out of me. 

For the first time since Merasca, I let the world see what I really was.

The willpower that erupted from me wasn't human. It wasn't demon. It was something else entirely, vast and terrible and absolutely overwhelming. The same force that had matched both Ao'kai and Bai Xiuying, that had gone against Xohr'Veskhaa, that had let me stand against powers that should have erased me.

It was as if I were the Heavenly Demon at his peak.

I stood straight, my hair flying wild, my clothes swaying in the wind, as I glared up at the bright golden creature. The screams around me were like distant thunder, and my full focus was on the Dragon King. 

My willpower met Sahrazzakhan's divine authority, and for one impossible moment, we were equals.

The Dragon King's eyes widened in his massive head. "What the hell are you, boy?"

But I had no breath for answers. Blood poured from my nose, my eyes, my ears. This wasn't sustainable. I couldn't truly match up against an Arcane King, that would be bullshit. I was burning my life force just to maintain the contest.

But I only needed seconds.

The bifrost light of Nevaramis cut through our clashing wills like a sword through silk. As it engulfed us, I heard my grandfather's booming laughter.

"That's my grandson!" he roared, catching Sahrazzakhan's claw with both hands. "Did you see that? Did you feel it? That's Romani blood, you overgrown lizard!"

His own will exploded outward, not to help us but to fully engage his opponent. "Come on then! Let's finish this properly!"

The last thing I saw before the light took us was my grandfather, bloodied, laughing, and absolutely alive as he traded punches with a god.

Then Nevaramis claimed us, and the desert vanished. 

****

I collapsed the moment we materialized, my body finally collecting on all the damage I'd ignored. 

“Are you alright?!” Solara quickly crouched beside me, lending me her Phoenix Flames, but there was no need. 

The Heavenly Demon Body was already at work, knitting flesh and replenishing blood. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Thank you,” I gave her a quick kiss, while Stratos appeared in a flash of light.

“You’re in a terrible state,” she said, snapping a finger to bring a wet towel that she used to wipe my bloody face. 

“This is…” Solara looked at her. “The android? She looks different.”

“Oh, yes, I do. More importantly, I’m glad to see you’re doing well after that incredible sacrificial explosion,” Stratos said. “Even though it was quite stupid. Wouldn’t that have killed Lord Iskandar too, if you'd succeeded?”

“Um…”

I ignored them and changed my Qi to recover faster. Within moments, I could stand again.

Amelia wasn’t beside me. She stood by the observation deck's railing, staring out as if searching for Athelgard, but only finding the impossible city she'd heard about but never seen. 

Floating buildings connected by bridges of light, architecture that defied physics, and in the distance, the rainbow shimmer of the dimensional barriers that kept us hidden.

"So I really escaped," she said quietly, not turning around. "What now?"

I slowly moved to stand beside her, close enough to feel her warmth. "Now? Now we're free, I think. To make our own choices and forge our own paths."

Even though out there in the desert, my grandfather continued fighting against the impossibility that was Sahrazzakhan.

"Free, free…" She tested the word like wine, rolling it around to find its flavor. "I don't know what to do with freedom… Not when I know two Empires as well as the Gold Dragon Clan would do anything to destroy this free city of yours."

"That's the beautiful thing about it, isn't it, Chancellor?" I brushed my hand with hers. "Freedom. You get to figure it out as you go."

She finally looked at me, and I saw tears tracking down her cheeks. It wasn't out of sadness.

Without thinking, I reached up to brush them away, and she caught my hand, holding it against her face.

“...You don’t like it?”

"Did I say I don’t? I am just mad at you for being stupid, so let me be mad,” she whispered, glaring at me, but there was no hate. "So stupid to challenge my father. Was I really worth all this chaos?"

"You're worth so much more than chaos," I told her. "You're worth burning down heaven itself."

She laughed at that, wet and broken and beautiful. "That's the worst line I've ever heard."

She said that, and yet, she pulled my face into hers. I couldn't fight it. For a moment, with her lips against mine and Solara's approving laughter in the background, the world was perfect.

Even if I knew it couldn't last.

Even if I could feel the storm building on the horizon. But that didn’t matter. That was a problem for tomorrow’s Iskandaar. 

The destruction of the Heavenly City of Athelgard? I'd worry about it in the future.

Today, I just wanted to take a warm bath and sleep.

Dragon Princess Rescue: Complete.

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The Veiled Man Note: *Forgot to show Iskandaar leveling up through the duel and tournament fights, but yes, he did! That’s why he’s Level 105 now.

Anddddd that’s the end of Gold Dragon Arc. I think it was pretty solid, and based on you guys’ response, everyone liked it! We’re approaching Book 4’s end, it’ll be a bit shorter than the last books. I think 5 more chapters?