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Rise of Yahunyens: Origin

"I Am... The Revolution!", Born God Griswa Skaar, the last of the Skaar Gods, lost his memories as he struck the planet of Aeartha. Later he met allies and observed the cruel events of this world. As the 'God of Revolution/Helezar Mackenadock', he won't just free the world from the Yahunyens after 185,000 years of their rule, but the entire Omniverse from Greater God 'Brighter Dark'. This is not a struggle for supremacy. Supremacy itself is a struggle here. While every other story is dealing with weak to strong, this story explores the struggles of being too powerful, yet trying to adjust and control it. But even with too much power you need to cultivate, cultivate differently, using your powers with limits and cultivation of not trying to be stronger but to control your power, because even if you have everything, there is a chance you'll have left nothing (Only MC), if any apocalypse dawns on the worlds because of those powers. Being too overpowered, boon or a curse? Rages are on... Ascertain the tragedies, histories and mysteries Beyond The World.

Qussai_H_Shah · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
36 Chs

Episode 33: Starfalls!! The War Is Over!

At the same time when Griswa departures from the battlefield to fight the monster:

"That guy..." Fheniz muttered, shaking his head with a mixture of admiration and exasperation. "Always full of surprises. But I have something up my sleeve too."

As Griswa soared towards the colossal monster, Fheniz took charge of the battlefield. The enemy troops surged forward defying the common sense that they should run away instead, but pity it was that the beasts didn't have brains. "Elemental Commanding: Paragliding Dynamite!" His voice echoed like thunder, resonating across the vast battlefield.

The ground beneath Fheniz began to tremble, the immense plateaus that were the nearest to him in the vast expanded battlefield, cracked and broke into enormous chunks. These massive landmasses, each the size of a small city, floated upward as if gravity itself had surrendered to Fheniz's will. He focused intently, even as he dispatched enemies with swift, precise martial arts moves as he was in the middle of fighting and simultaneously commanding. His hands and legs moved in a blur, a whirlwind of basic and advanced techniques that left a trail of fallen foes in his wake.

The floating chunks of the plateaus reached an altitude and then began to glide forward, casting ominous shadows over the battlefield. Fheniz manipulated their trajectory with ease, spreading them out over the enemy troops near him and towards the areas Griswa had cleared earlier, but were filled again with other enemy troops. The chunks hovered ominously, suspended in the air like the calm before a storm.

"Fire Snap!" Fheniz snapped his fingers with a sharp, decisive motion. Flames erupted from the floating chunks, igniting them into blazing fireballs. The spectacle was both awe-inspiring and goosebumps giving. The fiery orbs rained down upon the enemies, but that wasn't the end. Each one blasted upon impact with the ground! The battlefield was a canvas, and Fheniz painted it with explosions—Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!—each blast sending shockwaves through the ranks of their foes, far beyond the scope of ordinary dynamite. 

"This won't do," Fheniz muttered, surveying the battlefield. "It wasn't enough. I have to cover Griswa's side too."

With a determined gleam in his eyes, Fheniz prepared his next move. He had already set the stage and was waiting to grab more energy. "Fire Commanding: Snap!" He snapped his fingers again, and the ground itself seemed to obey his command. Two massive explosions erupted as if hidden landmines had been triggered. The first explosion ripped through the enemies near him, while the second tore through the ranks on Griswa's side.

The explosions were cataclysmic. The ground erupted in a fury of red flames, a supernova of destruction that painted the battlefield in a gradient of fiery death. The flames roared across the battlefield, covering an area of 400,000 square kilometers in total that explained the scale of the blasts. 

Yet, even this display of power wasn't enough. The other enemy forces continued to press forward. Fheniz knew he needed to unleash another ultimate move. He flew back, distancing himself from the approaching enemies. He landed gracefully, his feet touching the ground with a soft thud as he concentrated, his fingers crossing in a pattern such that the fingers of his right hand were perpendicular to the fingers of the left hand. The same pattern for the thumbs as they met.

The sky responded to his call. Brown clouds roared, and colorful lightning crackled within them. Thunderclaps echoed like the drums of apocalypse, heralding the impending devastation. Fheniz looked up, his eyes filled with calculation and concentration. "Okay, now it's time to prove why I am worthy of being a God," he declared, his voice steady. "I needed years of practice and energy to come to this level. There is no way I won't give an entertaining show, and for that, I wanted Griswa to leave anyways. Here comes my next move!"

Closing his eyes, Fheniz focused all his energy inward. Streams of vibrant energy flowed from his eyes to his mind, illuminating his forehead with a radiant glow of horizontal parallel lines. The air around him buzzed with anticipation. Suddenly!!! with a burst of brilliance!! 120 roaring jets of lightning descended from the sky!! Each bolt was a kaleidoscope of 100 colors, sparkling with an intensity that seemed to pierce the heavens and hells together!!

The lightning jets that crashed into the ground with explosive force, instantly vaporized the enemy troops they touched, turning them into nothing but dust. The ground shook with the impact, and the battlefield was bathed in a blinding light. The enemies scattered, fleeing in terror from the electrifying onslaught.

Fheniz opened his eyes, releasing an aura of pure power. His voice thundered across the battlefield, "Ultimate technique! Lightning Commanding: Tornadic Whirlpool!!!!" The 120 lightning jets coalesced, merging into two colossal tornadic whirlpools, each a storm of 60 bolts of lightning. The sight was mesmerizing—a deadly dance of swirling colors and sparkling energy.

The whirlpools spun with incalculable speed, their forms a blur of vibrant hues. Each color was distinct, yet they blended together in a harmonious display, sparking with electric fury. The thunderous roar of their rotation was deafening, a cacophony of power that reverberated through the air.

The lightning tornadoes moved with a grace and speed that defied logic. They tore across the battlefield, their paths weaving through the ranks of the enemy troops. The sheer force of their movement was overwhelming, a whirlwind of destruction that could obliterate any form of existence but not Gods. Enemies were caught in the storm, their screams lost in the roar of the tornadoes as they were torn apart by the violent energy.

The tornadoes moved like living entities, guided by Fheniz's will. They circled around, trapping the enemy forces in a deadly vortex. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered, the air charged with electric energy. Each rotation of the tornadoes brought more devastation, more death, as they swept through the battlefield with inevitable ferocity.

Those enemies who managed to escape the wrath of the lightning whirlpools found themselves facing Fheniz directly. With effortless precision, he dispatched them using his sand and fire commanding. His movements were fluid, a seamless blend of elemental power and martial skill. The ground erupted with flames and sandstorms.

The battlefield was a scene of utter chaos, a maelstrom of elemental fury. The lightning whirlpools continued their rampage, their energy seemingly endless. The sky was ablaze with color, the ground scorched and broken beneath the sands. 

As the troops of the enemy forces fell, Fheniz let out a breath, the tornadoes dissipating into the air. The battlefield was silent, save for the crackle of lingering energy. Fheniz surveyed the devastation, a sense of satisfaction in his eyes. 

"Now that's how you clear a battlefield," he muttered to himself, a wry smile on his lips. He glanced towards the direction Griswa had gone, confident that he would handle the monster with the same prowess, yet was worried how he would do that.

Yesdar's and Malaes' eyes were caught by the sparkling lightning tornadoes. "That was pretty cool! And it was so eye catching! I loved that move of Fheniz, but it's gonna take me years to get that right, even if I start practicing now." Yesdar said to himself, while Malaes wasn't sure on how to concentrate properly. From one side there were roars of thunder, at the other side the monster's roars, the distractions resulted in her frustration as she sighed and said, "I can't do it like this. This ain't funny anymore." 🥲

"I totally get it, it's better if we leave now, Mal." Yesdar suggested.

"Nah, I only got one job to do." Malaes was desperate to prove her usefulness in situations like these which were upcoming in the future, not to prove to anyone, but just to give herself a first good impression.

And as the tornadoes dissipated, they heard the loud roar of the monster again. To them, Griswa wasn't visible at all as they witnessed the fight going on, yet after the monster fell down in eight pieces giving rise to the tsunami of blood, it became clear who did it. 

"Was that Griswa?" Yesdar asked Malaes as they both stood on the gradually cracking plateau, with that their body and feet trembled. For a while, as it was a breathtaking moment, instead of escaping, they stood silently with widened eyes and expressions of awe and horror as a tsunami of blood approached them feasting on the enemy-beasts that were running towards the plateau before, basically feasting on everything before their eyes. For a moment the thunderous roars of the tsunami were inaudible to them, such was their shock.

As Yesdar came back to his senses, he demanded urgency from Malaes as she watched, her jaw dropped. "Okay enough of staring! If we don't move now, we are as dead as them!" 

Yesdar pulled her hand and made her sit on Ferion after he did. "Ferion it's common sense! Get away now! Don't wait for my orders!" 

Ferion flapped his wings and soared high, they looked back and saw that the plateau they were on, was devoured with not a single stone left.

Fheniz from a distance had seen that the monster had been taken down but that wasn't the end of it. So many mountains were simply devoured by the bloodstorm that was not clearly visible but it was understandable, whatever was happening. He was more concerned about Malaes and Yesdar than Griswa, but as they were far away, they were not visible to him. 

Only a few enemies were left now, the last troops. Fheniz had to take care of them and end this.

The final enemy troops, surged forward in one last desperate push. Fheniz, with his ornate coat billowing majestically in the wind, stood with folded arms, exuding an aura of supreme confidence and style. His eyes were fixed on the approaching forces, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Alright, it's time to end this. The war shall be over with the final technique. Ten minutes are already over," Fheniz declared, his voice carrying the weight of inevitability. He did nothing but watch, his gaze steady and scanning, as the enemy troops drew closer. But there was simple silence until...

Until, the sky tore open.

From the dayside of the planet of Ehayor, immense violet and golden fireballs began their descent. These celestial asteroids, each as large as those mountains, blazed with a brilliance that could blind the naked eye. Their luminescence painted the sky with hues of radiant purple and gold, the spectacle of a confident swagger. The fireballs fell at a slant, some plunging straight down from the heavens, their trajectory aimed to obliterate the final remnants of the enemy forces.

Fheniz's eyes narrowed as he watched the approaching inferno. With a voice that resonated with godlike authority, he declared, "Final Technique! Fire X Energy!! Sun Commanding: Starfalls!!" His words echoed across the battlefield, a proclamation of doom.

The fireballs struck the ground with a force that shook the very core of Ehayor. Each impact was an apocalypse in miniature, a cataclysmic event that vaporized the enemy troops in an instant. The ground splintered and heaved, shockwaves radiating outwards with unimaginable power. The air was filled with the deafening roar of explosions, each fireball a star of destruction that feasted upon the enemy forces, as if they never existed.

The first slanting fireball on a 10 degree angle, struck the warship that was nearest to it, piercing through its reinforced hull like a hot knife through butter. The explosion that followed was deafening, a burst of energy that tore the ship apart from the inside. The warship disintegrated in a spectacular display of fire and metal, fragments raining down upon the battlefield.

The second fireball, trailing golden flames more than violet, homed in on another warship. The moment of impact was marked by a blinding flash, the ship's defenses crumbling under the immense pressure. The explosion sent shockwaves through the air, pieces of the ship scattered in all directions, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.

A third fireball collided with a ship's engines, igniting a chain reaction that tore through the vessel. The warship erupted in a massive fireball, its remains plummeting to the ground in a fiery rain.

The fourth and fifth fireballs struck their targets simultaneously, their combined explosions creating a colossal firestorm in the sky. The warships shattered under the impact, their metal carcasses falling like meteors. The battlefield below was showered with the destruction, absolute.

The sixth fireball, enveloped in violet flames, targeted a heavily armored warship. They were no match for the power of the sun itself. The fireball blasted through the armor, igniting the ship. The resulting explosion was a spectacle of flaming destruction, the warship disintegrating in a blaze of gory glory.

The seventh and final fireball, obliterated the middle one in the hexagon in a single, cataclysmic explosion. The fireball's impact was so powerful that it created a shockwave that rippled across the battlefield, the ground shaking violently and the sands storming. The warships were taken down so that, Orngea would stand no chance of escaping.

The enemy forces had been utterly annihilated, their warships reduced to smoldering wreckage. Fheniz served his purpose well, even in the absence of Griswa, as expected from a Future God.

With a satisfied smirk, Fheniz spoke to himself, "I have trained so much that now I can even command the sun! The reason why those fireballs were violet and golden is because of the atmosphere of the planet Ehayor. Hmm." His voice carried a note of pride and satisfaction of having knowledge more than the others. Then he finally declared what he had long awaited to declare!

"The war is over!"