In the universe there was existed 2 being and Their influence transcended all laws of the universe. Now many quantrillion yeas have passed and Now In the frozen expanse of Antarctica, where the cold winds scream through the jagged peaks and endless snow blankets the land, two titanic beings stand opposed. The atmosphere crackles with the force of their powers, as though the very laws of nature are bending beneath the weight of their battle.
One of them, a figure dressed in golden armor, his presence exuding an almost god-like aura, is Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes. His eyes gleam with ancient wisdom and unparalleled arrogance, his hands clasping the weapons of countless legendary figures, each imbued with the power of their owners.
Facing him, in stark contrast, is Sung Jinwoo, a figure draped in black armor, the Dark Knight of a world that once faced unimaginable horrors. His aura is that of death itself, the echoes of countless battles and a soul hardened by time and conflict. He stands with an expression of calm determination, his overwhelming power radiating from every inch of his form.
The air shivers as Gilgamesh speaks, his voice deep and filled with unshakeable confidence.
"Foolish mortal," he sneers, "do you truly think you can stand against the might of a god? I am the King, the ruler of all, and none are worthy of challenging me."
Sung Jinwoo's gaze remains steady, though his voice carries the weight of countless battles, of years spent mastering power beyond measure.
"I do not seek to challenge you as a king," he responds, "but as a being who has transcended limits. You are not the only one who has walked the path of the gods."
The mountain trembles as their powers clash, creating shockwaves that tear through the frozen landscape, shaking the very foundations of the earth beneath them.
Gilgamesh's laugh echoes, a sound full of arrogance and power, while Jinwoo's face remains calm, his eyes focused. The fight between these two beings is no longer just a battle for victory; it is a contest of destinies, of forces that transcend even the bounds of time.
Their battle is not just for the fate of the world—they are the final remnants of an ancient war that once shaped the very fabric of existence. And now, after an eon of waiting, their fates have collided once again.u
As Gilgamesh, I let out a laugh, filled with both amusement and disdain. "End my life? You, a mere mortal, dare speak such words to me?" I raise my hand, summoning the gates of Babylon, and from it emerge countless weapons—each a legendary artifact, each imbued with the power to bring down gods.
"Let us see if your words hold any weight. You may be powerful, Jinwoo, but you are still far beneath me. Come, test your strength, and I shall show you the true meaning of power!"
A torrent of golden light erupts as the weapons fly towards you, each one crackling with divine energy. Yet, in my eyes, there's an air of cold superiority. "Do you truly think you can withstand the power of these relics, boy?"
Sung Jinwoo's eyes glow with an eerie, deathly light as the shadows around him ripple and shift. From the darkness, his shadow army rises—countless figures, each a manifestation of his will, clad in black armor and with expressions of ruthless determination. The sheer number of them, immortal and bound to his command, seems endless. As they appear from the very shadows he casts, they are not just soldiers; they are the embodiment of his power, each a reflection of the countless battles he has fought and won.
Without a word, Jinwoo raises his hand, and the army stands at attention, waiting for the moment of command. The air grows heavy as the shadows stretch and bend around him, ready to engulf the battlefield. His voice, calm and unwavering, carries across the field.
"Gilgamesh, if your treasures are as mighty as you claim, then let them come. But know this—your arrogance will be your downfall."
The shadow army moves in perfect synchronization, a tidal wave of darkness charging toward the golden barrage of Gilgamesh's weapons. Some of the shadow soldiers dart forward, clashing with the legendary weapons, while others spread out, flanking and seeking weaknesses in the King of Heroes' defense. They are relentless, unfeeling, and, most importantly, they will not falter.
Sung Jinwoo stands at the center, a master commanding his soldiers, his gaze locked onto Gilgamesh. "Show me more, King of Heroes. You will need more than your golden treasures to defeat me."
The mountain quakes as the two armies collide—the unstoppable force of Jinwoo's shadows against the blinding onslaught of Gilgamesh's legendary armory.
As the shadow army charges forward, Gilgamesh's expression twists into a smirk of pure disdain. With a casual gesture, he opens more portals in the air—each one shimmering with an otherworldly energy. From these portals, countless ancient swords begin to materialize. They gleam with an eerie, golden light, each one an artifact of unimaginable power and history.
The swords, moving at speeds beyond comprehension, are unleashed with a single command. They tear through the air with such force that the very atmosphere trembles. Like a storm of blades, they slash through the ranks of Jinwoo's shadow army, each strike precise, swift, and deadly.
The shadows, usually so resilient and endless, are torn apart as the swords rip through them. Each shadow warrior, no matter how strong, is reduced to nothingness—turned to dust in an instant, their forms disintegrating under the sheer power of Gilgamesh's attack. The sound of slicing metal and the crackle of disintegrating energy fills the air as Jinwoo's army is obliterated, one by one.
A vast cloud of dark ash rises, swirling and scattering in the wind as the last remnants of the shadow army are erased from existence. Gilgamesh stands at the center of the destruction, his eyes gleaming with both contempt and satisfaction.
"You truly thought these shadows could stand against me?" he taunts, his voice echoing across the mountain. "You are nothing but a fleeting illusion, Jinwoo. You may have power, but you lack the true strength that comes with eternity."
With a cruel laugh, Gilgamesh readies another barrage of swords, his golden gaze now locked onto Jinwoo. The next wave of destruction is imminent.
The ground beneath them shudders violently as the battle intensifies, the very earth cracking and splitting from the force of the clash. The air is thick with the crackling energy, a brutal symphony of destruction as the swords, moving at speeds beyond the eye's ability to track, slam into the ground, colliding with the shadows and the space around them.
With each impact, the landscape around Jinwoo and Gilgamesh is torn asunder. Chunks of rock and ice are blasted away, and the mountain itself seems to groan in agony under the weight of their power. The sheer force of their strikes sends shockwaves through the surrounding land, the once-pristine snow and ice giving way to jagged fissures and molten cracks.
Sung Jinwoo stands firm, his own energy emanating from his body as he summons more of his shadows from the remaining darkness. His remaining forces engage with the swords, desperately trying to hold back the unrelenting onslaught, but the swords move with a terrifying efficiency, slashing through them like paper. As more of his soldiers are obliterated, Jinwoo's focus intensifies.
The earth beneath them cracks violently, splitting the ground in half as energy surges in every direction. The mountain begins to fracture and collapse, sending debris tumbling down the slopes as the two beings continue their battle, neither yielding an inch.
With a roar of frustration, Jinwoo steps forward, his aura flaring as he channels all of his power into his next move. The ground beneath him buckles under the strain of his immense energy, and the shadows that remain pulse with an otherworldly intensity.
Gilgamesh, watching the destruction unfold with a detached amusement, raises his hand once more, summoning even more of his infinite arsenal of weapons. "Is this all you have, Jinwoo? A desperate struggle to hold on to an illusion of victory?"
The sky darkens above them, as if the heavens themselves recognize the magnitude of their battle. The ground beneath them is barely holding together, half of the once towering mountain reduced to rubble. Yet still, neither of them falters.
The final confrontation is approaching.
As the battle rages on, the shadowy remnants of Sung Jinwoo's army swirl around him, gathering like a dark storm. The destruction wrought by Gilgamesh's endless barrage of swords has left the ground fractured and unstable, but Jinwoo stands resolute amidst the chaos. His aura flares, deeper and more menacing than ever, and his voice cuts through the storm like a blade.
"It seems you've underestimated me, Gilgamesh," he says, his tone calm yet laced with unyielding resolve. "Allow me to show you the true power of my command."
With a sharp gesture, the shadows around him begin to shift and warp unnaturally. From the darkness emerges a presence so immense that even the air grows heavier. Then, one by one, four colossal figures step forward, their forms adorned in dark, ancient armor that radiates raw power.
First comes Igris, the loyal knight clad in deep crimson-black armor, his burning blade held tightly in his grip. His mere presence emanates an aura of chivalry and overwhelming strength, as though he is the embodiment of an ancient warlord.
Next is Tusk, the mighty mage, towering above the others with his staff that crackles with dark magic. His piercing eyes glow with intelligence, and the air around him buzzes with the force of his spells, ready to unleash devastation.
Then appears Bellion, the towering figure wearing obsidian armor lined with intricate designs. The blade at his side hums with ancient energy, and his every movement is precise, exuding the experience of countless battles fought and won.
Finally, stepping forth is Ashborn, the Shadow Monarch himself. His presence is unlike any other—a force of nature, a living embodiment of death and domination. Clad in armor that seems to absorb the very light around it, his calm yet terrifying gaze locks onto Gilgamesh. The air grows colder as he steps forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet, his aura overwhelming even that of Jinwoo.
The four shadows stand before their king, their loyalty and power unrivaled. The mountain trembles under the combined weight of their auras, as though the land itself is bowing to their might.
Jinwoo looks up at Gilgamesh, his expression calm yet confident. "You wanted to see my strength, King of Heroes. These are the strongest warriors in my army. Igris, Tusk, Bellion... and Ashborn, the original Shadow Monarch. Let's see if your golden weapons can match their resolve."
As the four shadows ready themselves, their weapons gleaming with dark energy, the battlefield falls silent for a moment, the calm before the storm. Then, with a single nod from Jinwoo, the four charge forward, their combined power shaking the very fabric of reality as they clash with the legendary swords unleashed by Gilgamesh