Sylas tracked the knee through the air. Runes flickered at his chin, spatial distortions twitching and bending the air around him.

The Prince's knee landed, or rather it looked and felt like it did, until it didn't. The Prince's hip stretched through, his leg passing through Sylas' flesh and bone as though it wasn't there at all.

In his dazed state, the Prince didn't understand what happened at all, but Thessa felt her heart skip a beat. What level of Rune Mastery was that? How could Sylas make something phase through him like that and in such a short time?

It would have required precise control of every cell in that part of his body, and then to somehow put them all back together without killing himself—.

BANG.

But now, that was hardly the only problem. Forcing something to phase through you required also countering the Prince so that his Will couldn't disrupt anything.

Any one of those feats was simply… impossible.

Sylas shot forward. His head and forearms were still interlocked with the Prince, the latter's shin being forced backward on his shoulder.

Pushing right past it all and his broken wrist, Sylas' forehead slammed into the Prince's nose.

Sparks of lightning arced between them and clarity returned to the Prince's eyes.

Just like Sylas wanted. Fighting the zombie-like Sanguara was orders of magnitude harder.

Blood spurted from the Prince's nose and Sylas dodged to one side before it formed into a blade that tore through where he had just stood.

Rolling, he quickly shot back up to his feet in time to snap his wrist back into place and cross his forearms before his body just as the Prince's foot nearly collided with his chest.

BANG.

Sylas slid back but he absorbed the blow much better than he should have. It made little sense for someone who had just snapped his wrist like a twig to do so little damage on a kick, and the Prince seemed to realize this as well, but before he could understand why, Sylas was already pivoting and then closing the distance.

A furious exchange of blows erupted from between them, and as they fought, the Prince seemed to grow weaker, and weaker, and then weaker still.

Sylas, by comparison, seemed to accelerate. Glowing lines of emerald coated his body, a golden hue tinging his Will just the slightest bit. He radiated an air of control and of royalty.

Every strike he sent out was sharp and precise. He whittled down The Prince's rage, his Pride, his fury, step by step, walking him down like he would a cornered beast.

And even then, when the Prince sought to lash out and regain any semblance of control, Sylas crushed it.

"Ni." The echo of a tonal syllable rocketed out of Sylas' mouth like a cymbal had been crushed.

The concussive blow shook the brain in the Prince's skull, the juices within it rattling around.

"You… how…"

The Prince didn't even want to say it out loud, but just now… that syllable had been meaningless. There was no real meaning behind it. But the Will behind it… that was very different.

It carried the Will of the first syllable of The Prince's True Name.

Suddenly, the Prince knew why he was getting weaker.

Sylas had been comprehending him, understanding him, almost dissecting him with every blow. And now he had understood him so thoroughly he heard the echo of his True Name through battle alone.

What level of comprehension did that take?

Sylas had reached a deeper level, and he now understood why Sanguara had True Names in the first place.

He had used Luscent Dominion to try and take control over the Prince's body and force him to give in. In doing so, he was comprehending the Prince in the same way he would have a world. The fact he already had such a deep comprehension of the Sanguara… Left the Prince absolutely no chance.

It seemed that the Sanguara's ability to use their blood to enhance their physical capabilities without limits was a form of telekinetic martial arts as well.

However, in order to make something like that innate, they needed a remote control of sorts. That remote control was their True Name. It was what gave their blood the commands it would follow and dictating the guard rails within which their abilities worked.

Simply put… they couldn't actively use telekinetic martial arts, and their threshold for doing so was probably a lot higher and a lot more difficult to reach precisely because their innate abilities were so much greater than most forms of telekinetic martial arts.

That was even more so since they could literally take the blood of others, siphon away the Will, and then use it to strengthen themselves further.

The Sanguara were simply the strongest users of telekinesis Sylas had ever seen, he just hadn't realized until now. It was no wonder they had chosen the Skai Heaven to target… though, it was hard to tell if there even was such a Heaven in this era or not.

But what certainly made sense was why the Golden Race, which clearly had eventually decided to settle down in the Skai Heaven, would try to incorporate the abilities of the Sanguara into their arsenal.

However…

It wasn't enough to beat him.

BANG.

Sylas' palm landed on the Prince's chest, sending him flying back so fast there was hardly a breath between his attack and him smashing against the barrier.

An imprint of his hand was left behind in his rib cage, blood as black as the starry skies around them pooling out from his lips.

The Prince grunted, trying to drum up some more power, but no matter how hard he tried, he was helpless.

"Because you are her brother, I will tell you just one thing." Sylas said calmly, walking up to him. Despite his bloodied, beaten state, he didn't seem to have lost a single hint of his sharpness. "I did not lie. Now go," he said coldly.

His palm descended and the Death Seal bloomed.