CHAPTER 1177: HAVEN TOWN (5).

The impact of their renewed clash shattered what little remained of the district.

Cain lunged first, fists blazing with condensed golden energy, the ground cratering under his every step. Nebula’s blades intercepted each strike, forming a mirrored wall that reflected flashes of molten light across the burning ruins. The air rippled with pressure. Every collision sent out concussive bursts that turned the cracked pavement into clouds of dust and metal shards.

Cain twisted, swinging low, forcing Nebula to leap back as the Golden Tyrant reappeared in his grip. The revolver roared, spitting golden meteors that traced jagged arcs across the battlefield. Nebula’s arm swept outward, his blades converging into a dense spiral that devoured each shot before releasing the absorbed energy back at Cain as a rippling shockwave.

Cain’s boots slid back several meters as the wave hit, his coat whipping violently in the heat. He barely managed to anchor himself, slamming one palm into the ground and transmuting the surrounding wreckage into a dense shell of reflective alloy. The barrier splintered immediately under the counterblast, but it gave him just enough cover to vanish into the haze.

Nebula scanned the smoke, blades orbiting faster—his eyes glowing faintly, reading movement in the distorted mana field. A flicker appeared above him. Cain dove down like a meteor, both hands gripping his weapon as it transformed mid-air—metal folding and reshaping into a long-barreled rifle, the runes pulsing gold.

Nebula’s head tilted. "Adaptable weaponry. Intriguing."

The shot came. A single golden beam ripped through the atmosphere, cutting a line so bright it burned a hole through the clouds. The instant it hit, Nebula’s defensive blades twisted inward, redirecting the attack outward—but the beam detonated, erupting into a sunburst of molten energy that scorched the entire block.

The explosion sent Cain tumbling through the air. His arm burned from the recoil, blood hissing on his skin where molten fragments clung. Nebula emerged from the haze unscathed, though his blades flickered weakly at the edges.

"Still relying on force over finesse," Nebula said. "You wield the element but never understand it."

Cain spat blood and grinned, teeth glinting through the soot. "Funny. You talk like a teacher, but all I see is a cheap imitation."

Nebula raised a hand. His blades dissolved, reappearing in hundreds of pinpoint positions around Cain. The formation locked into place with a single resonant tone, vibrating with a pitch that drilled into the skull.

Cain’s eyes narrowed. He raised his revolver again—no time to think, just move.

The world erupted in synchronized chaos. Thousands of blades launched at once, forming a lattice of death that closed in from every direction. Cain met them head-on, his gun roaring without pause, each shot bursting into golden rings of pressure that tore the blades apart. But every destroyed fragment reformed behind him, the pattern repeating endlessly.

He needed an angle. He needed leverage.

Then he saw it—the faint stutter in Nebula’s motion, a microscopic pause between his repositioning bursts. That was his rhythm.

Cain drew in every drop of metal essence around him, the air itself shimmering gold as dust, debris, and fragments liquefied into floating streams. The revolver vanished, replaced by a spear that hummed with radiant heat.

He broke forward in a blur.

Nebula vanished and reappeared to intercept, blades closing in, but Cain’s weapon was already in motion. It cut through the first ring of defenses, the second, and the third, each swing releasing a shockwave that warped the light around them.

When their weapons met, it was like two storms colliding—no sound, no air, just pure force.

The ground beneath them liquefied into molten gold. The sky cracked with crimson lightning.

And still, neither gave way.

Nebula’s eyes shimmered with that alien gleam again — a light not of mana, but of something older and crueler. The moment their weapons locked, Cain could feel it — that unnatural rhythm thrumming through Nebula’s arm, feeding into the metal around them. Every blade in the air vibrated in unison, resonating with his heartbeat.

Cain grit his teeth, straining against the growing pressure. The spear in his hands screamed from the force, its edge warping as molten cracks spread along the shaft. His boots dug trenches through molten ground.

Nebula leaned closer, voice soft but cutting through the roaring chaos. "You think the world bends because you command metal. You’re wrong. The world bends because it remembers who it belongs to."

Cain snarled and pushed off, breaking contact. His body blurred backward in a burst of golden propulsion, leaving a wake of shattered glass and warped air. He leveled his weapon and fired. The bullet—compressed essence wrapped in fractal runes—split into six midair, each taking a distinct trajectory before curving inward toward Nebula’s blind angles.

Nebula extended a hand. His blades, instead of blocking, fragmented into fine metallic dust that whirled around him like a cyclone. The bullets passed through harmlessly. Then, like a trap snapping shut, the metallic dust hardened, lashing outward in a spiral that cut through everything it touched.

Cain’s arm caught the edge of the attack, the metal biting deep and peeling flesh. Pain flared, hot and immediate. He didn’t waste time reacting — he transmuted the spilled blood into a hardened coating over the wound, sealing it instantly.

He charged again.

The ground cracked with every step, each impact creating golden ripples that distorted gravity itself. He vanished mid-stride, reappearing behind Nebula — his fist slamming forward. Nebula blocked with a blade half his size, but the impact sent him flying through three ruined buildings.

Before he could recover, Cain was already there, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the dirt. The shockwave flattened the surrounding rubble.

Nebula’s grin didn’t fade. "You’re learning."

Cain’s eyes burned with fatigue, his breath ragged. "Shut up."

He pulled back his fist again, coating it in molten light. The punch came down like a hammer — but this time, it met open air. Nebula dissolved into a thousand reflective shards that reformed several meters away, unscathed, almost ethereal.