The world seemed to shake and rumble as Blood River exerted what force he could muster in that split second to block Brave Dragon's incandescent projectile.

He drew in his breath with a hiss at the searing pain. The radiant missile had destroyed the barrier and left him covered in burns, but they were relatively minor. Drawing on his blood vitality for regeneration, the wounds itched as they healed over.

Brave Dragon whistled. "Wow, that's neat, being able to heal like that. You think I could learn that?"

"No." River replied through clenched teeth. He raised his hands, and a half-dozen Blood Spears formed from the World of Blood, hovering in the air above his head. Without another word, he launched them at Brave Dragon.

"Shit!" the bald-headed man exclaimed, and his double pairs of wings flapped as he shoved himself to the side of the incoming missiles, just barely avoiding contact with one of them as he dashed behind a pillar.

The Blood Spears hit the stone floor and detonated loudly, dust and stone fragments launching in the air from the deep, two-meter-wide craters they excavated.

"No fair! I only shot one!" Brave Dragon complained as he peeked back around the pillar.

River had had enough of this. He had wanted to preserve at least some of the World of Blood to try and achieve another breakthrough after this battle, but he couldn't afford to drag this out any longer. He didn't want it dragging out; he wanted Brave Dragon dead, right now.

As Brave Dragon leapt back out from behind the pillar, a globe of white light forming in the palm of each hand, River activated Blood Ignition Acceleration and retreated, commanding the World of Blood to go forward, to barrel straight into Brave Dragon's position.

Brave Dragon loosed his projectiles, and they skimmed the surface of the World of Blood, careening off to the sides of the room where they blew up a couple of the wall scrolls, exposing cracked stone walls underneath. The balefully glowing sanguine sphere neared Brave Dragon, whose eyes widened at its approach.

By this time, under the effects of his acceleration, River had made it all the way back to the ruined doorway, whereas Brave Dragon and the World of Blood were right in the center of the room. While he wasn't sure if even this was enough of a safe distance, he couldn't afford to let Brave Dragon escape now.

River raised his right hand in the air. "Blood Devouring Universe: Worldly Apocalypse!" he shouted as his acceleration ended. And then he snapped his fingers.

With a thunderous roar, the World of Blood shattered, its accumulated energy blasting outward in a howl as all the air in the village-sized throne room was displaced. Crimson light bathed the entire area in an expanding sphere of radiance that reached where River was standing, hurling him back with such force that he slammed into the ceiling of the throne room's antechamber.

A gale wind pressed him to the ceiling for a moment before the flow of air suddenly inverted, sucking River back into the chamber. He landed on the floor with his feet and exerted all his strength to try and resist the pull, digging two deep furrows in the stone floor as he did, and eventually the light faded and the wind stopped.

The explosion had scoured the throne room entirely. The roof had been destroyed, its fragments under such pressure that none fell inside the chamber but instead were launched into the distance. The columns were missing their top halves at best and were utterly destroyed at worst. It was embedded in the surface of one of the former that River spotted Brave Dragon.

The burly man was ruined, a mess of blood with the jagged ends of broken bones sticking out from his extremities. He breathed shallow, short breaths, gasping to fill his punctured lungs. One of his eyes was missing from its socket, and the other whirled wildly as he strained to see anything.

Conserving his remaining scraps of extra blood energy, River deferred healing his relatively minor wounds and limped over to the column where the shattered bandit chief was dying.

"Haha..." Brave Dragon exhaled in a kind of greeting. "That... was wild... man..." he wheezed out between gasps and a choked giggle. "You really... did... put up... a great... fight..."

River shook his head. Even now the man was saying things like that. Was he really just a battle maniac at heart? "Just did what I needed to, Brave Dragon."

Brave Dragon chuckled at that. "So then... kid... I didn't catch... your name..."

"Blood River," the young man replied to the bandit chief.

"Hah... Blood River..." Brave Dragon grinned, exposing his shattered, bleeding stumps of teeth. "That's... a great... name..."

"It's one forced upon me by my circumstances."

Brave Dragon chuckled again. "Ah yes... I know... the feeling... the bandits... did the same... to me."

River nodded in silence, letting the man waste more of his last breaths prattling.

"Hey... River?" the bandit chief asked.

"Yes?"

"You think... in another... lifetime... we could... have been... friends?"

"No. Never." River replied in a flat tone.

"Oh." The broken man grimaced in pain. "Well... that's... too bad..."

"I could never be friends with a man who would exploit a young, innocent girl just to advance his own cultivation." River snarled, clenching his fists in rage.

"Huh? When..." Brave Dragon sunk into confusion as his remaining spark of life continued to fade.

"Enough talk. This is over Brave Dragon. Take your regrets to Hell with you." River spat and shot forward, his right hand piercing the bandit chief's chest and grasping his pulsing heart. With a squeeze, he crushed it and activated the Blood Devouring Palm to draw from the vitality contained within.

There wasn't much blood left in Brave Dragon to consume, but what dregs remained were still infused with the lifeforce of an initial Foundation Building stage expert. River's wounds instantly healed as the lord of the bandits shuddered, the last flickers of awareness disappearing in his remaining eye.

Brave Dragon, the tyrant for a thousand kilometers around, was dead, his crushed body smashed into one of the few remaining pillars in his throne room. River had his revenge for Sweet Nectar, for Flowing Water, for the youths abused by Elder Wave with the help of the Dragon's Den, for the orphans that Celia so cared for, and for the people that lived in constant fear of the brutality of the bandits...

For all of them, and more, a new age was about to dawn, brought to them from River's own two hands.

He extracted his hand from the corpse's chest and looked down at his hands in wonder, flexing them into fists and opening them again. These were the hands that felled a tyrant. These were the hands that would build a new order!

A chill swept over River, and he gasped and fell to his knees. Blackness swirled around him as it escaped from his body, as the darkness drained from the sclera of his eyes, returning them to white.

The vortex of darkness coalesced into the familiar form of Mister Black, but he looked different now. He was paler, more translucent than before, the edges of his image seeming unstable, flickering in and out of reality.

A wave of panic rose up inside River as he saw his spectral master reappear. Was this it, then? Was the old man going seize his body for himself now?

The strange starscape-filled eyes of the old man crinkled as he laughed. "Don't fret, young River," he said. "There's a beginning and an end to everything."

River shot up in an instant, standing to look the old ghost eye to eye.

"What? You don't have to be so concerned for me." Mister Black paused for a moment. "I was doomed from the start, you see. All this did was merely accelerate my soul's decay. Don't blame yourself, my young friend. Look at all we accomplished together."

A wave of relief washed over River, and he let out an involuntary sigh. "Oh, Mister Black," he said, quickly covering his true feelings, "I can't ever repay your kindness, can I?"

Mister Black chuckled. "For me, it's good enough that you live well and continue on your journey of cultivation, my friend." The edges of his image were fragmenting, particles of darkness floating away and vanishing in the air. "Ah, it's time. Allow me to impart one last lesson to you, my young friend."

River nodded. It was good that here, at his end, the old man would give him one last gift to build his new empire.

"This isn't a technique, but some advice," Mister Black cautioned, the stars in his eyes twinkling. "No matter how far you go, remember who you are and where you came from. Cultivation is a journey with a beginning, a middle, and an end. This may not yet be the middle of your journey, but it certainly is approaching the end of the beginning. Remember every single thing I have said to you, my boy, and you will eventually understand your path going forward."

"Yes, Mister Black," River hung his head, avoiding eye contact to help in masking his disappointment.

"Don't be so glum, lad," Mister Black chuckled as more and more of those dark particles dispersed in the air. "Perhaps destiny will bring us together again in some way. The ways of the world are strange and many, and no one person knows all of them." He then sighed. "I'm proud of you, my boy. Farewell, young hero."

As River looked up at his mentor's face, the old ghost closed his eyes, his expression the very quintessence of acceptance. More and more of him dissolved into the air, the process speeding up exponentially until he broke apart in one last swirl of dark particles.

On River's finger, an oft-neglected copper ring shattered into pieces, dropping to the ruined floor. Like the palace around him, it had been a home bereft of a master.

Like that, Mister Black was gone, removed from River's life forever.

River took in a deep breath. Then he began to laugh a peal of raucous, relieved laughter. The old bastard was gone, and he could stop restraining himself for fear of him! This was great! It was wonderful! It was fantastic!

He cackled maniacally until his breath could no longer hold out, his crazed laughter echoing throughout the shattered chamber. Breathing in deeply, he looked around at the disaster that he had unleashed.

He'd need to get a new throne room. A bigger one. One without the barbaric furs and stupidly gaudy throne. He'd have a more suitable one made. A more suitable everything would be made, all in accordance with his inexorable will.

But first, he thought as that strand of remnant foundation-level power coursed in his veins, he needed to get back out there and stop that war. His new order would need a lot of manpower to build, after all.

He couldn't wait to talk to Celia about all of this. Their future was now limitless.