"They believe they have the numbers. They believe they have the power." Max’s voice carried beneath the golden wave of arrows, calm enough that the dragons behind him felt their own breathing steady. "But before absolute power, numbers mean nothing. Before the might of my mana and the destruction of my magic, even gods would think twice before challenging me."

The sky burned gold above the ruined capital, the endless rain of arrows falling like shattered sunlight ready to bury everything beneath it. It was beautiful in a brutal way, bright enough to blind and deadly enough to make even veteran warriors feel their hearts tighten.

Max did not move.

He remained above the dragons with his black wings spread wide and his void blade resting in his hand, the faint golden shine on his skin still visible beneath the storm. His armies watched him stand there without fear, and under the weight of his words, their blood began to boil again.

"Witness how the king destroys these puny arrows! Witness how his might shall shake the entire army of the Elven Empire!" Marcus roared, cheering the armies as his purple ice flames burned brighter around his claws. "It is time for the world to know that the dragons are not as weak as they seem. We shall rise as long as we follow him. We will become gods if he wishes for it!"

His roar spread through the dragon armies like fire thrown into dry grass. Their magic began to spiral out of control, fire, ice, wind, and thunder rising together as their blood boiled beneath the sight of Max standing above them.

All of that drew an amused smile from Max’s lips.

It was exactly what he craved. Their faith. Their worship. Their belief that he could drag them higher than their ancestors had ever reached. This was the kind of loyalty he desired, the kind that made men and dragons ready to die with his name in their mouths.

He simply extended his hand, one that looked insignificant from below where the armies stood, but to Max, that hand covered the entire sky, and that was enough.

Black mist began to spread from his palm, a tinge of golden strands flowing inside it like fine silk. It did not explode outward. It grew calmly, almost lazily, as if the golden rain falling from above was not even worth rushing for.

Soon, the mist covered the entire place like a turtle shell defense, forming a vast dome above the dragon armies. The golden sky vanished beneath it, swallowed by darkness as every arrow struck the black mist, stretching it far and wide while desperately trying to pierce through the suppressing force.

At first, the elves still smiled, some even lowering their bows slightly as they waited to see dragon bodies torn apart beneath the golden rain. But after a few breaths, those smiles began to stiffen. The arrows were still falling. The sky was still burning. Yet beneath that black dome, not a single dragon had been touched.

The black mist bent, rippled, and trembled beneath the golden assault, yet it never broke. The golden strands inside it moved like thin veins, catching the arrows one by one and draining the light from them before the darkness swallowed what remained, until the beautiful storm the elves had summoned became nothing more than sparks dying against Max’s palm.

Beneath the dome, the dragons watched hundreds of thousands of golden arrows disappear before reaching them. Some laughed. Others tightened their grip around their weapons, their earlier fear turning into something almost savage.

Max tilted his head slightly, watching the last few arrows sink into the mist.

"That was beautiful," he said, his smile widening just enough for the elves to see it. "Useless, but beautiful."

The elven army went silent for a moment, their pale faces stiffening as the last golden sparks vanished into the black mist. Then the silence cracked under the fury of the generals who could not accept that the pride of their army had been reduced to nothing against one man’s hand.

"Again!" one of the generals roared, his voice losing the refined calm the elves had carried until now. "Pour more mana into the bows and pierce through that thing!"

The golden ranks moved immediately, their fingers pulling at the air once more as thicker strings of light formed between their hands, making the spectral bows brighter and heavier. The next arrows were no longer thin and elegant, but longer, sharper, and wrapped in spinning golden spirals.

Then the elves fired again.

The whole sky burned brighter as another wave of arrows rushed toward the black dome, this time gathering toward one point instead of spreading across its surface. Hundreds of thousands of them struck the same area above Max’s extended hand, trying to drill through the darkness by force.

The dome bent under the pressure.

Some of the younger dragons instinctively stepped back as the black mist dipped lower above their heads, golden light pushing into it like a giant spear trying to pierce through the shell protecting them. But Max did not move. His hand remained raised, his fingers loose and calm, while the golden strands inside the mist twisted around the point of impact until the arrows began to lose their shine one after another.

"Harder!" another elven general shouted. "Do not let a single dragon make fools of us!"

The formation of the elves changed at once. The first rows lowered themselves slightly, the second rows raised their bows over their shoulders, and the warriors behind them lifted their hands toward the sky, pouring golden mana into each other until their entire army looked like a living web of light. The arrows began to merge in the air, melting together into thick spears of radiance, each one larger than a tower.

One of those giant spears descended first, crashing against the dome with a sharp sound that made many dragons wince, but even then, the black mist only stretched. The spear sank halfway in, pressing lower and lower until the darkness hovered just above the tallest horns in the army, yet the golden strands inside the mist wrapped around its body and ate away the light from the tip until the whole thing dimmed and collapsed into harmless sparks.

The elves stared, and for the first time, cracks appeared in their perfect arrogance.

They had expected resistance. They had expected power. But they had not expected their attacks to be swallowed so calmly, as if Max was not struggling against them but allowing them to exhaust themselves for his amusement.

"Prepare the Sunfall Array!" one of the generals roared, desperation hiding beneath his authority.

The golden army moved again, their lines shifting into wide circles as hundreds of elite warriors stepped forward with both palms pressed together. Golden formations appeared beneath their feet, then rose into the air one after another, stacking above the elven ranks until a massive wheel of light formed over them. It turned faster and faster, the heat spreading from it making even the dragons beneath Max’s shield feel their scales tighten.

Max’s fingers moved for the first time.

Only slightly.

The black dome thickened at once, and the golden strands inside it spread wider through the darkness. The dragons did not understand what had changed in their king after he returned, but they could feel that his mana was denser now, calmer, deeper, and his void magic no longer looked like simple darkness.

"Release!"

A beam of golden destruction shot down from the blazing wheel and slammed into Max’s dome with such force that the ruined capital shook. Broken towers collapsed in the distance, loose stones burst into dust, and the dragons beneath the shield were forced to dig their claws into the ground to keep their balance. The black mist sank lower than before, so low that some warriors could almost touch it with their raised weapons, and for a brief moment, the elves’ eyes lit up with savage hope as they saw Max’s hand lower by a small fraction.

"He’s weakening! Continue!"

More mana poured into the formation, making the beam wider, brighter, and hotter, forcing the dome lower while golden cracks spread across the outer layer of the mist. The elves shouted, their refined voices turning raw as they finally believed they had found his limit, but then Max chuckled softly, and even through the roaring light, that sound reached the battlefield.

"You really are desperate."

His fingers slowly curled.

The dome stopped sinking.

The cracks closed one by one, and the black mist began to move upward instead of down, crawling into the golden beam like a shadow that had grown tired of being pushed. The golden strands inside the mist brightened, drinking in the light instead of only resisting it, and the beam that should have crushed the dome began to thin.

The Sunfall Array trembled above the elves. One formation broke, then another, then dozens more as the black mist climbed all the way to the blazing wheel and wrapped around its edge.

Max lowered his hand.

The golden wheel cracked across the middle, and then the entire formation shattered, raining golden fragments over the elven army that had created it. Their warriors stumbled back, some raising shields in panic while others stared upward in disbelief as pieces of their greatest attack burned out before touching the ground, while beneath the black dome, the dragons erupted into wild roars that shook the broken capital.

Max looked down at the trembling elven ranks, his smile cold and amused.

"Is that all?"