Gehrman let himself be pulled into the Dream Realm. Due to the cacophony of calls from the great number of Nightmare Seeds distorted the transportation.
He found himself under the sun then, the sun of the Nightmare Desert. It was blindingly bright and scorching hot. For Gehrman though, neither of these were issues at all.
Before even fully materializing he felt it.
"Shit," he grunted as he stood to full height.
He couldn't see it, but Black Skull Citadel was close. He knew this to be true because he felt it.
The Domain of Anvil of Valor.
The first thing he did was Summon several Memories. His Supreme Attire and Weapon came first, followed by a few other things he believed may prove useful.
Gehrman grimaced as he readied himself.
As an extension of one's very Soul, a Domain was the physical deployment of oneself onto the world. This occurred through anchors, the most steadfast being Citadels and those who ruled them. Now that Anvil – or more likely some random Ascended he borrowed – took control of the Black Skull Citadel from Mordret, Anvil's Domain could manifest here.
Ever since becoming a Saint Gehrman hadn't had a real fight. He had stayed away from Great Tyrants for the most part, but even those he did fight were not overly difficult, just more time consuming and costly on the Essence.
However, this was about to change.
A Supreme Human was a completely different beast. Not only that, this was a Supreme in the bounds of their Domain.
Gehrman had learned only little about Will, though most of what he knew he gathered inherently from his own experiences.
He had fought against enemies that wielded it like a weapon during the 3rd Nightmare, and now there was going to be something even worse.
Gehrman located the Citadel easily with his [Sixth Sense], in a blink of an eye he was gone, traveling at ridiculous speeds to arrive there.
High above the sky, a whisper of subtle clinking and metallic sounds could scarcely be heard.
Gehrman's heart sank.
Swords? There's so damn many. Enough to blot out the sky. Each of them are at least Transcendent Rank, and within his Domain they are probably even more potent.
There were tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, perhaps. Most were uniform in size and shape, but a few stuck out. Some almost all had enchantments that increased durability and sharpness.
"What a hoarder, you could supply all of Antarctica with this stockpile."
Gehrman was speaking more to ease his nerves than anything. Already he had been thrown off balance by the suddenness of this. He had long imagined Ki Song and him fighting side-by-side against Anvil, not going one-on-one.
The metal sky was daunting, and the Citadel below was by no means less so.
The Black Skull looked harrowing, with a part of it being carved out and a small settlement, or rather what looked like a military outpost, located within the empty and open part of the skull.
The creature appeared to once have a third eye on its forehead. That detail, for whatever reason, seemed important to Gehrman.
However, he couldn't focus on anything right now besides the man who with his arms crossed at the very top of the enormous skull.
Gehrman could see the full radiant Supreme Soul Core with his Awakened ability, and it was utterly spectacular. Ki Song existed largely spread out, so Gehrman never got a good look at a complete Supreme Soul Core before.
Gehrman quickly sprouted wings and within a few seconds arrived at the top of the skull a decent way away from the middle aged man.
Anvil of Valor was intimidating.
Dark hair was cut cleanly and of short-to-medium length. He also possessed a perfectly groomed beard with a few grey strands. This did not detract from his image, however, in fact it only served to improve his menacing poise.
He wore full metal armor. It looked heavy, but the way he stood made it appear light as a feather. A crimson red war cape billowed slightly in the arid desert wind.
Though he wore no crown, Gehrman had never met a man more befitting of the title of King.
His voice matched this idea as well, for it was deep but clear.
"What do you know of this place?"
Gehrman looked up at the sky. It really didn't matter which direction he faced or even if he had his eyes open since his perception was the same no matter what. However, he tried to make a show of being unconcerned.
"The Nightmare Desert? Not much. When the night arrives, undying warriors of great strength rise with it. Then the two ancient armies continue their battle over nothing."
"Do you know to whom those armies belonged to?" Anvil asked. He still was looking out over the scenery, not paying any attention to Gehrman.
"Can't say I do."
The Sovereign was silent for a beat before sighing.
"I thought you were well educated, but it appears you are further behind than I thought." The King paused, his posture revealing no emotion of any sort.
"It was the Doom War. When the 6 Gods and 7 Daemons fought to the death. All were Divine Titans, perhaps even more than that, for even others of the pinnacle of Rank and Class fell before them…Still, with all that power, they still had armies. Ascended, Saints, even Sovereigns and Spirits were just pawns in their game that destroyed the world."
Gehrman looked out over the desert now. It was utterly barren with the exception of a few stray Nightmare Creatures. The devastation was so complete it was eerie.
"Do you know why they fought?" Anvil asked. Despite the nature of the question, his tone did not betray curiosity or any particular care.
"If I had to guess, I would say it was over something petty."
"No. Though personal, the reason was gravely serious. However, that very same reason also damned the world. When entities like that truly apply themselves and actually stand side by side things always develop to be on a scale beyond measure."
Gehrman frowned.
"Your point?"
"There can only be one Supreme. One ruler. When power compromises, it is cracked, and then shatters. The shards decimating all that was and is."
Gehrman couldn't help scoffing.
"Okay, you loon. That's certainly one message to take away from this whole apocalyptic scene before us. However, have you considered that maybe the way to avoid annihilation is to just not be total idiots who step on each other's toes. You said it yourself, this Doom War started because of something personal. To me, it sounds like if the Gods and Daemons had therapists this all could have been avoided."
Anvil's brow furrowed.
Displeasure, the first real thing that Gehrman picked up from the stalwart man, radiated off him.
"You are old. Older than all of us, even. I can see that now. Yet your naivety is like that of a child. I simply can't comprehend it."
Anvil turned, the metal armor clanking, but not impeding his easy movement by any means.
"I gave you this moment as a courtesy. I respect you, Gehrman. Not as a person, not as a leader, but as a blacksmith. You are the only one whose product I've seen surpass my own. For that reason, I offer you self reflection before your execution."
The sparks of Memories forming appeared behind him.
"You are simply too much of a–"
Gehrman fired the [Slothful Evelyn] before he could finish. He did not have time to upgrade it to a Supreme Memory, though if he had known this was coming he very much would have done so.
Still, even as a Transcendent Memory the bullet fired was absurdly powerful, the physics easily allowing it to injure Great Abominations.
However, before it could go between Anvil's brow, an intricate metal helm slammed shut. It was not a separate Memory, but an extension of his current armor.
The helmet appeared like that of a knight, yet its bulk and embellishments made it more pronounced.
It's beautiful craftsmanship was only marred by a very, very small dent in its center.
"An anomaly," Anvil finished his sentence. His voice now echoed from inside the helmet, but it only made it carry more weight.
Gehrman shrugged.
"I try."
Then they were moving. The Memories he had summoned finished forming. 7 swords formed what looked like a divine halo behind his back. Each was of the highest quality, likely all Supreme and of a high Tier.
When Gehrman moved to attack, they each launched independent counters. It was as if 7 invisible and formless master swordsmen had taken the swords and were now launching themselves at Gehrman.
Each of them moved faster than the human eye could follow, perhaps even slower Transcendent would be pierced before even seeing movement. However, Gehrman was far beyond the level of a Transcendent at this point.
Anvil's eyes narrowed.
Gehrman moved low to the ground like a beast. The [Burial Blade] in the form of a great curved sword. Only the slightest of deflections could be allowed, for if he tried to block head on his scythe would undoubtedly shatter.
In this close range, with all the swords able to take such devastating angles, it was impossible to remain unscathed.
So Gehrman didn't.
A partial deployment of his Transformation caused three small tentacles to grow from the back of his shoulder.
Two swords pierced him, the resulting explosion cracking the ancient black skull to crack. The devastation on Gehrman's body was immeasurable, and it likely would have killed anyone else.
However, the millisecond his leg and lower abdomen had giant holes punched through them, the Corrupted blood in one of the summoned tentacles was absorbed and Gehrman healed instantly.
The other two tentacles housed capsules of Great blood, which now spilled forward, coating his attire and weapon, thus vastly increasing their power.
A rush of Madness ran through him, and he empowered the blood in his body to cycle faster as well as what was on his attire and blade to further amplify his movements.
Cracking the sound barrier several times over, Gehrman aimed his slash at the side of Anvil's neck.
A deafening metallic clang sounded throughout the Nightmare Desert. The shockwaves rippled all throughout the Citadel.
Gehrman's entire body shivered as all the force he applied screeched to a halt.
Anvil stood unperturbed, his forearm raised in a casual block, the [Burial Blade] dented his vambrace slightly.
"Your weapon is flawed. Soul Damage is all potent, but this blade requires physical contact to employ such attacks. What is the point of an incorporeal assault if the requried medium is physical?"
The swords were already flying back, ready to pierce Gehrman several times over, leaving nothing left to heal.
However, none of them hit.
Not because Gehrman moved though.
For the first time, Anvil's unshakable demeanor cracked a bit as what looked like an intended dark oval stone was suddenly staring at him.
The blades flew through the empty rib cage of Gehrman's Transcendent form.
With a cities worth of blood all directly circulating in his body, Gehrman brought the bestial claws of his [Infant Great One] form into a fist.
The blow landed with an even louder echo than all the previous attacks.
The blunt nature of the giant demented fist allowed the force to be spread evenly, and the sheer weight of the blow caused Anvil's form to fly across the desert, the impact causing ripples through the near area.
All of the high Tier Supreme blades continued to assault Gehrman, but in this form that was entirely made of blood, he was even faster. Each movement was blistering and left utter destruction in his wake.
However, he did not use that to his advantage to continue an assault.
Instead, he ran like hell.
If Gehrman had any chance of surviving, he needed to get the hell out of Anvil's Domain. He had landed that blow because Anvil was arrogant and had yet to truly go all out. The absurd collection of leisurely circling swords ahead were proof of that.
Gehrman stalled a bit at that thought.
The swords!
At some point, he had lost track of them, where had they all gone? Even further into the sky? At what point had they–
Gehrman's body stopped.
It was like he had hit a solid wall, and all of his momentum halting at once had disastrous effects. He nearly turned into a splat at the sheer destructive force he wrought on himself.
However, after two tentacles shivered and their blood was assimilated, he reformed into his healthy, crazy looking Transformation state.
Gehrman looked down.
Surrounding him, like the outline of an invisible wall were the very swords that he had lost track of.
Gehrman did not have a brow to furrow in this body, but if he did, it most certainly would be.
He moved upward, finding the ceiling quite quickly.
It seemed that he had actually underestimated the amount of swords this maniac had. It was likely this circle was already in place when Gehrman arrived, and now that he was here, the ones circling above the Citadel had spread out to take on certain shapes.
Runes.
Not Caryll Runes, but the Runes of the Dream Realm.
Like Weaving, Runic Sorcery was one of the ancient techniques of the Dream Realm that was only now being reverse engineered.
However, what loomed above him did not look like someone trying to figure out a system. It looked like a trap that a master had spent years designing.
"This is the difference," the deep voice of the king reverberated.
"Your time in the Dream Realm had been but a blip. You know nothing of how this world operates. You haven't even conceived of the depths in which this reality can be manipulated through means besides one's Aspect."
Anvil of Valor stalked closer, walking at an easy pace. It just made him all the more intimidating.
There was a large indent in the chest of his armor, but in the next moment a loud groaning ripped through the air and it was repaired. So too were the tiny grooves Gehrman had made on Anvil's helmet and vambrace.
Metal manipulation was what Ki Song insisted Anvil relied on primarily, she also had mentioned runic sorcery, though it was nothing on this level. Still, to think both powers could be used in such ways.
Anvil of Valor stopped a distance away and considered Gehrman's current form.
He grunted.
"What an unsightly beast."