Death Guns In Another World

After stepping through the World Tree’s barrier, Incursio and Typhania’s clone arrived in another world—

Once, it had been a realm of pure life energy, where the very air shimmered with the essence of creation. Towering emerald trees stretched infinitely into a golden sky, their roots intertwined with the vast crystalline rivers of mana that flowed through this sacred place.

A place untouched by war.

A sanctuary of absolute peace.

But now—

That world was dying.

The sky, once golden, had dimmed into a sickly gray. The trees—once lush with life—had withered. Their leaves had turned black, their bark cracked, leaking a dark, toxic substance that reeked of decay.

The mana rivers, once brilliant and full of energy, had turned into sluggish, stagnant pools. Where they should have glowed with ethereal blue light, they were now clouded with shadows, writhing like something alive.

And at the very center—

A massive altar, pulsating with chaotic energy, was embedded deep in the roots of the World Tree.

A Chaos Curse.

It was the very thing draining the life out of the tree, corrupting its essence from the inside.

Incursio frowned as she stepped forward, her boots sinking slightly into the tainted ground.

“It’s worse than I expected.”

Typhania’s clone remained composed, but her emerald eyes darkened.

“The curse runs deep. If it is not removed soon, the World Tree will die.”

And if the World Tree died—

The entire Elven Continent would collapse.

The balance of mana itself would be thrown into chaos.

The elves… the forests… all life connected to this ancient existence… would perish.

Just as Incursio was about to step forward—

A low, guttural growl echoed through the decaying world.

From the shadows of the withered trees, dark figures emerged.

Their bodies were twisted, their forms warped beyond recognition.

Former guardians of the World Tree—now turned into monstrosities by the Chaos Curse.

Their once-radiant wings were now tattered and skeletal.

Their golden armor had been corroded, covered in black, vein-like cracks.

Their eyes, once filled with divine wisdom, now burned with madness.

These were no longer protectors.

They were puppets.

Slaves to the curse.

The lead guardian, a towering figure wielding a jagged obsidian spear, let out an ear-piercing shriek.

And then—

They attacked.

BOOOOM!

The first guardian lunged at Incursio, spear flashing toward her heart—

But—

CLANG!

Incursio blocked it with her blade, the impact shaking the entire area. Sparks flew as dark energy clashed against her own power.

She gritted her teeth.

“Tch… fast.”

But not fast enough.

SLASH!

With a single fluid movement, she countered, her sword slicing through the guardian’s torso.

Black mist spewed from the wound instead of blood.

But it didn’t stop.

The guardian roared, its body stitching itself back together almost instantly.

They weren’t just corrupted—they were immortal.

Typhania’s clone, watching the battle unfold, finally moved.

She raised a single hand—

And then—

“Divine Requiem.”

A pillar of pure emerald light erupted from her palm.

BOOOOOOM!

The beam pierced through five guardians at once, disintegrating them in an instant.

Incursio whistled. “Not bad.”

But there was no time to admire the destruction.

More guardians charged forward, their weapons dripping with dark energy.

A dozen.

No, at least a hundred.

The battlefield became chaos.

As they fought, the corrupted altar at the heart of the World Tree began to pulse violently.

With each beat, the surrounding air grew heavier, suffocating.

The curse was growing stronger.

And at the center of the altar—

Something shifted.

A dark cocoon, pulsating with ominous energy, cracked open.

And from within—

A figure stepped out.

Tall. Cloaked in shadows.

Eyes glowing like dying embers.

And the moment its gaze landed on Incursio—

A chilling voice whispered through the decaying world.

“Ah… the Heir of Darkness has come.”

Apostle.

One of the highest-ranking commanders of the Chaos Organization.

Incursio gripped her sword tighter, her lips curling into a wicked grin.

“Finally, someone worth killing.”

The World Tree was dying.

Apostles of Chaos stood in their way.

And Incursio…

Was ready to cut them all down.

Because in the end—only the strong would survive.

As the Apostle’s chilling whisper faded into the decaying air, Typhania’s clone stepped forward.

Her emerald gaze locked onto Incursio.

Without a word, she lifted her hands, and the space around her shimmered—

Her entire form dissolved into a cascade of glowing green motes, merging with the corrupted air.

The Spirit Art had begun.

A soft whisper echoed in Incursio’s mind.

“Take my blessing.”

The moment those words reached her, Incursio felt a surge of energy explode through her body.

Her muscles tightened, her senses sharpened, and the chaotic energy swirling around her instantly stabilized, refined into something purer.

The very elements of the world bent to her will.

Fire, wind, water, earth—everything sang to her.

And then—

The battle began.

The Apostle moved first.

With a single step, the air around him cracked, distorting like shattered glass.

His black cloak billowed, his hands twisting in an unnatural motion—

And then—

BOOOOOM!

A tsunami of black fire surged toward Incursio, swallowing the world in absolute destruction.

But she didn’t move.

She lifted her hand—

And the flames froze mid-air.

Not extinguished—no.

Frozen in time.

Her golden eyes gleamed as she curled her fingers—

And the very fire he cast was turned against him.

FWOOOOOSH!

The black flames reverse-flowed, twisting into a gigantic dragon-shaped inferno, roaring toward its former master.

The Apostle’s glowing eyes flickered.

“Interesting.”

Instead of dodging, he swung his arm—

And the fire shattered into a thousand shards, dissipating like dust.

But Incursio was already moving.

BOOM!

With a single step, she closed the distance, her blade screaming through the air.

The Apostle barely managed to block, his forearm colliding with her sword—

KRRRRRK!

The force behind her strike sent shockwaves ripping through the air, the ground beneath them collapsing into a crater.

The Apostle slid backward, his feet digging trenches into the dirt.

He let out a small chuckle.

“I see. You are not merely an experiment… a traitor but a true successor of destruction.”

His voice was smooth. Almost amused.

But Incursio wasn’t interested in conversation.

She lifted her blade—

And suddenly—

The sky shattered.

Lightning roared across the heavens.

A storm of pure destruction descended.

Hail, fire, wind, water, shadows—all at once.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The battlefield turned into a cataclysm.

Mountains crumbled. The dead forest was ripped apart, trees turned into splinters.

The Apostle stood at the center of it all, his cloak fluttering wildly.

And yet—

He laughed.

The Apostle lifted a single finger—

And the storm vanished.

Just like that.

Incursio’s eyes narrowed.

Then—

KRRRRRRK!

Reality itself distorted as the Apostle finally got serious.

The ground turned black, corrupted by an overwhelming presence.

A colossal dark aura erupted from him, expanding across the battlefield like a living entity.

He reached out—

And a black scythe manifested in his grasp.

A weapon of pure death.

“I had intended to observe you longer,” he mused, spinning the scythe lazily. “But I suppose it would be rude to hold back against someone of your caliber even if you were a traitor.”

Incursio merely grinned.

“Then shut up and fight.”

The Final Exchange had begun.

BOOM!

They clashed.

Incursio’s blade met his scythe, and the shockwave split the heavens apart.

A thousand slashes filled the air in mere seconds.

Time itself seemed to warp as they exchanged attacks at speeds too fast for the eye to follow.

Lightning and darkness.

Fire and void.

Creation and destruction.

The World Tree’s dying heart became the battleground of two absolute forces.

Finally—

SWOOOOSH!

A flash of silver.

A glistening arc of black.

And then—

SILENCE.

A heartbeat passed.

Then another.

The Apostle froze.

His scythe shattered.

A thin line of golden light split his body from shoulder to hip.

His glowing eyes flickered—

And for the first time, he looked surprised.

“Impossible.”

Incursio flicked the blood off her blade.

“You talk too much.”

Then—

The Apostle’s body collapsed into nothingness.

Erased.

Devoured by the very elements Incursio had mastered.

As the Apostle faded, the corrupted altar trembled.

The curse that had been draining the World Tree began to unravel.

The blackened roots turned green again.

The suffocating air cleared.

And slowly—

Life began to return.

Incursio let out a breath, rolling her shoulders.

“Tch. That was fun.”

She turned her gaze toward the horizon.

The battle wasn’t over.

But for now—

She had won.

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