Mystic Calling：Stone of Glory-Chapter 931: This World Was Already His

Ethan tensed instantly.

His first instinct—alertness.

He began gathering his power the moment he sensed something was off. New enemies incoming? Another surprise attack?

But then… he noticed something strange.

The runes in the air weren't repelling him.

On the contrary—

They were oddly calm as they approached. Submissive, almost… like they were answering a call.

Ethan took a slow breath, steadying his heart.

He stopped suppressing his energy and instead released his full rune aura into the surroundings, letting it flow free—letting it reach them.

In that moment—

The world stirred.

Power shifted. Invisible currents rose. Something vast began to move beneath the surface.

Mountains. Sky. Even the air itself seemed to open up to him.

Hum—

Hum—

Hum—

A deep resonance pulsed through the entire realm, echoing like a heartbeat in stone.

Ethan felt it vividly—

This wasn't just his power anymore.

This world was welcoming him.

Rrrrumble—

Above his open palm, space twisted—shrinking, condensing—as if folding in on itself.

And when everything settled, a crystal about the size of his hand hovered silently above his skin.

Inside the crystal, the world's shape was perfectly reflected.

Mountains. Forests. Rivers.

All of it, sealed within.

Ethan's breath hitched.

He'd been trying to solve one riddle: how to take this world with him.

Now he realized—

He didn't need to.

Because from this moment on,

This world already belonged to him.

He drew his focus inward, eyes lowering to the tribes gathered below.

These so-called "savages" may have lacked civilization, structure, laws—but every one of them had a powerful, primal force running through their blood. Rigid, rugged… but real.

And if guided properly—

They could become a true army.

"From this moment forward,"

Ethan spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly, echoing across the open space.

"I am the master of this world."

He paused.

"Will you follow me… and leave with me?"

For a second, silence.

Then—

Roaring devotion.

The tribes erupted into frenzied cheers. In their eyes, Ethan—floating above with runes swirling around him—was none other than the prophesied god returned from beyond.

"Great one! Take us with you!"

"We offer you everything!"

"Even our lives!"

Their shouts overlapped, fierce and unrestrained. The frenzy bordered on madness.

Ethan didn't say another word.

The rune energy around him grew denser, sinking into every inch of space. His control over this world sharpened, locking into place.

Next moment—

He snapped his fingers.

A ripple of light flashed.

And every humanoid lifeform, along with the very essence of the realm itself, vanished from the spot.

That Plane World…

Was now fully in Ethan's hands.

…

At the same time—

Beyond the outer perimeter of Emerald Castle's camp, killing intent bloomed in silence.

A mass of native warriors from the Nether Sea was closing in.

Their presence clashed violently with this realm—the space itself rejected them, their bodies shuddering from the resistance.

But when they unleashed their power in unison—

The impact could shake the very foundations of the camp's defenses.

Even if they couldn't breach the central zone,

They didn't need to.

They'd tear the entire camp apart—

The old-fashioned way.

With brute force.

Ethan's eyes went cold in an instant.

He didn't say a word. Just raised his hand and gave a small wave to the horde of tribesmen behind him.

A simple gesture.

But the moment that silent command dropped—

The entire force let out low, guttural roars and charged forward without hesitation.

Their bodies were solid, hulking masses of muscle that made the ground quake with every step.

But the real terror?

There was no fear in their eyes.

No doubt.

In their minds, to fight for their god was the highest honor there could be.

Even if it meant death.

On the other side, the natives from the Nether Sea froze when they saw the charge.

They had never witnessed anything like this before—

No formation. No fallback. Just a wild surge of pure, unflinching momentum.

And somehow, that was enough.

The ironclad offensive line they held just moments ago—was crushed open like wet paper.

And just then—

A lone figure stepped forward from the enemy rear.

A man, strange and jarring even at a glance.

The aura around him didn't match the Nether Sea natives. It was denser, colder—laced with a sharper edge of danger.

"…Those savages," the man said under his breath, brow furrowed.

"Aren't they natives of the Nether Sea?"

"Why are they risking their lives… for an outsider?"

The last word barely left his mouth before he lifted his hand.

A ball of terrifying power condensed in his palm—then fired without mercy.

BOOM—!

The shockwave ripped through a swath of charging tribesmen, tearing them apart in an instant. Blood mist exploded where they once stood.

The battlefield went silent for a beat.

Overwhelming power.

This man wasn't just stronger. He was on another level.

He was the strongest fighter in the invading force—

Kaelrox.

As his power fully unfolded, a massive energy barrier snapped into place, locking him in a protective shield that shimmered through the sky.

At the same time, a staff-like artifact materialized slowly in his hand.

The moment it appeared, the flow of energy around them shifted.

Space warped.

A dark rift cracked open before the staff—spilling out a stream of blazing, icy-cold energy. The air itself howled with the force of it.

Infernal Essence.

Even a few monstrous war beasts loomed within the rift, half-formed, just shy of stepping out into the world.

The battle was already at a fever pitch.

Ethan had brought a massive number of warriors, and their fearless, bone-breaking assault had forced the Nether Sea army into a grinding standstill.

But this kind of war…

Wasn't won by numbers alone.

It was decided by core strength.

High above, raw energy clashed again and again, slamming into the sky until the very fabric of space began to rupture. Unstable spatial rifts tore open like seams in a fraying cloth.

Ethan stood calmly at the rear, watching it all unfold.

His eyes drifted toward the staff Kaelrox held.

For a moment, something flickered across his face—something curious.

"…Interesting."

He rubbed his chin lightly, as if weighing options.

Then he vanished.

No buildup. No flash.

Just a streak of lightning tearing through the sky, headed straight for the battlefield's heart.

Kaelrox didn't even have time to react—

Ethan was suddenly right in front of him.

No preamble.

Just a single punch.

BOOM—!!

A storm of raw force exploded outward.

Kaelrox was blown back like a ragdoll. His body smashed through the air, barely skimming past one of the spatial rifts—only brushing against destruction rather than being consumed by it.

He managed to stabilize midair, but his face had already changed.

For the first time—

He looked genuinely shaken.