Nameless King

Every Chronicle had something special. In First Chronicle, it was Beyond, in Second Chronicle, it was Martial Essence, in Third Chronicle, it was Concept. The higher the Chronicle was, the stronger the unique characteristic of that stage, and the Fourth Chronicle stood out among the others. Humans on this Chronicle were strong enough to fight young dragons, and achieving that strength was a real challenge.

The Form was a special ability that could be mastered in the Fourth Chronicle, but only the most capable and talented could do so.

Using the Form was the ultimate trump card that fighters would use only as a last resort. A fighter had to make sure that nothing else posed a threat by the time his energy ran out.

'Maybe I should join too?' Osvald pondered watching Zariel's transformation.

Zariel's hair became short and white, his eyes ruby, and he wore a wide red robe with dark wing patterns. The golden feathers of his wings became scarlet, and they glowed faintly. Instead of a sword, a book with burning pages appeared in his hand.

"Don't." Keith said, suddenly looking at Osvald, "Like I said, I can handle it myself."

"Huh, can you, too?"

Keith nodded, and a stream of dark blue energy burst out of him like wailing ghosts. Keith's hair turned blue and short, his eyes azure, and a long cloak of shimmering scales appeared on him.

The two daggers disappeared, and a short blade with a straight blade appeared in his right hand. It gave off a cold aura and had the mark of a ghost on the blade.

"I see you are ready for battle, but as I said, I was going to fight both Osvald and you." Zariel smiled and opened the book.

The page glowed brightly, and many feathers from his wings flew out and rushed toward the sky. The feathers formed a circle and gradually accelerated until it seemed as if the feathers had become one.

Whoooooosh.

The page burned and as the ashes dissolved into particles, a magical circle appeared in the center of the circle, and a huge amount of energy rained down on the ground.

It was a fiery laser destroying all life beneath it.

Zariel had no clear goal, like a madman burning everything, the laser moved in a random direction, and nothing controlled it.
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First, the flames rained down on the fortress and turned it into a lake of molten stone in seconds, then the meadows and nearby forests were devastated.

"Ahahahahaha, excellent, now we finally have a spacious location for a decent fight!" Zariel exclaimed and looked at Keith.

The laser changed direction and came down on him, but Keith did not attempt to dodge. He had always been calm, and neither destruction nor the deadly threat made him even frown.

"How stupid..." Keith muttered, and the scales on his cloak dawned.

The flames engulfed him completely, but suddenly Keith was in the other direction, dozens of yards away from the laser, and he wasn't alone.

"What's going on?" Zariel frowned, looking around.

There were several Keiths around him, all looking the same, one standing and staring at him, another sitting on a wreck, third warming up and preparing for battle. The number of illusions grew, and Zariel couldn't tell which one was real.

"All you can do is throw your immense energy around and burn everything in your path, you Angels are too arrogant and proud." The Keiths shook their heads and their silhouettes blurred.

Whoooooosh.

Seven Keiths found themselves in front of Zariel and simultaneously attacked him at various points.

"Away!" Zariel shouted, and a wave of fire erupted from him.

The flames consumed the illusions, and they disappeared. Only one Keith remained, but the flames bypassed him. The scales on his cloak warded off the flames and kept him away.

"One." Keith whispered and swung his blade, leaving a long cut on Zariel's chest.

"Two." Keith swung his blade again, leaving an X-sharped cut on Zariel's chest.

"Three."

Keith turned and struck the center of the cross with his palm. His blow sent a shockwave off, and Zariel was thrown backward a dozen meters and buried under the ground.
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Keith landed calmly, and the scales on his cloak flashed again. An illusion appeared next to him, and then it bifurcated. The process continued until there were thirteen Keiths around the pit where Zariel lay.

"This is the end." They simultaneously said indifferently, looking at the lying Zariel.

"Bastard, that hurt." Zariel muttered and spat out a clot of blood.

"Surrender. If you don't resist, I won't kill you."

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"Huh, are you an idiot? Do you actually think I'm going to surrender?" Zariel smirked and looked at Osvald, "Sorry, it looks like our battle will have to be postponed for a while. That pesky one won't let us have any real fun."

"What? Do you think you can escape?" Keith said coldly and held his blade out in front of him.

"I'm not running away. I'd call it a tactical retreat."

Whooooooosh.

Dozens of pages burst out of the book and headed toward the sky.

Keith was momentarily distracted, and a scarlet flash flew past him.

Zariel's wings glowed brightly, and he headed toward his men. The flames on his wings turned into arms and gripped them tightly, and Zariel flew upward.

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"You won't get away!" Keith exclaimed and jumped high. Unlike Zariel, he couldn't fly, but he could use his illusions to bounce away from them.

"See you later!" Zariel shouted, and the pages floating in the clouds simultaneously exploded.

Flames spread across the sky and repainted it red. It was like the explosion of an atomic bomb in power, and the newly damaged space could not withstand it and collapse.

Zariel, along with the other Angels, flew through the space passage and disappeared like a flash in space.

Keith didn't go after him. They were enemies, but he had come here for another reason, their meeting was an accident.