In the blinding white light, Ryan's figure shattered and disappeared. Be'lakor's heavy fist slammed into the swamp of Albion, sending a spray of water into the air, but it hit nothing.
Ryan reappeared behind Be'lakor, Ghal Maraz swinging down. The Dark Master, as if it had eyes on the back of its head, blocked the strike effortlessly. Then, both of them vanished.
A streak of pale blue light and a shadowy purple-black mist flashed across the swamp, finally reappearing on a small hill. Ryan materialized first, using the Sword of Justice to parry Be'lakor's Chaos blade. Ghal Maraz swung in a wide arc, slamming into Be'lakor's side.
"Clang!" Be'lakor sneered, raising its arm. A thick, crimson Chaos shield enveloped its entire body. Ghal Maraz, wreathed in flames and lightning, struck the shield's surface, causing cracks to form.
"..." The Dark Master stood tall, its Chaos energy erupting. Ryan was sent flying, the Grey Knight Primarch forced to retreat several steps. Ryan's eyes narrowed, and psychic energy surged. A time dilation field enveloped the battlefield.
In that instant, Ryan was almost certain Be'lakor was immobilized. He charged forward, the Sword of Justice moving like a flash of light, aiming straight for Be'lakor's head.
But it hit nothing.
Be'lakor's afterimage vanished before Ryan. The Dark Master reappeared behind him.
Ryan's back was wide open. A Chaos beam struck him, sending him flying. Before he could even hit the ground, Be'lakor teleported again, its shadowy form appearing in front of Ryan. A clawed hand swiped.
Like a volleyball, Ryan was sent flying again, crashing into a tree. The entire trunk, along with Ryan, fell into the swamp.
The Grey Knight Primarch looked at the gaping hole in his power armor, torn open by Be'lakor's claws. He struggled to his feet, the sharp pain in his chest and the metallic taste of blood in his throat warning him of his deteriorating condition.
What was worse, Ryan realized a terrifying truth.
Be'lakor, like him, knew how to manipulate time. When Ryan tried to use his "time dilation" to control Be'lakor, the Daemon Prince countered with its own temporal manipulation, trapping Ryan instead.
Ryan didn't hesitate. As Be'lakor closed in at incredible speed, the Primarch surged forward again. His eyes were now flooded with a tsunami of psychic light. Hundreds of lightning bolts surrounded Ryan, and a massive psychic nova erupted, evaporating all the water in the swamp and reducing nearby trees and daemons to ash.
"Psychic Storm!" Hundreds of raging golden bolts of lightning rose around Ryan's body.
Be'lakor was astonished by Ryan's power. In its long existence, it had never seen such pure, radiant warp energy. Not even the elven or human gods it had fought could compare.
But so what?
You think you're the only one who can summon a storm?
"Chaos Storm!" Be'lakor roared, its own energy surging. The fury of Khorne, the sorcerous flames of Tzeentch, the endless regeneration of Nurgle, and the seductive dance of Slaanesh coalesced into hundreds of dark purple lightning bolts around the Daemon Prince.
The Psychic Storm and Chaos Storm collided. Hundreds of lightning bolts, each thicker than the trunk of a tree, clashed head-on. Everything within a kilometer was vaporized.
This exchange was a draw.
As the energy dissipated, the two clashed again. Ryan moved like Aenarion, the first Phoenix King, reborn. Every motion resonated with the warp, tearing through reality. Ancient stars whispered as Ryan fought at his peak.
Be'lakor remained calm, relying on pure rage to fuel its combat. Its dark energy continuously dissipated Ryan's psychic attacks. While Ryan's time manipulation was formidable, Be'lakor's mastery of temporal abilities far surpassed his. In the heat of battle, Be'lakor repeatedly turned into afterimages, rendering Ryan's attacks futile. Its teleportation was faster and farther than Ryan's, allowing it to gain the upper hand every time.
This was a contest of pure strength, magic, and willpower. The Sword of Justice clashed with the Chaos blade, psychic and daemonic energies colliding in small explosions. The resulting warp storms and energy geysers turned nearby daemons and barbarians to ash. Ryan's muscles bulged, veins popping, and his gums bled from gritting his teeth.
But none of this stopped him from being overwhelmed. Be'lakor's rage burned like the fires of Khorne's fortress, unrelenting. Its muscles swelled and twisted, and Chaos winds howled from its body. It gripped its weapon tightly, the Chaos star on its chest radiating heat. Its neck, shoulders, and arms were as hard as vibranium. The sparks from psychic and daemonic energies created a thick, acrid smoke.
"Ha!" Ryan roared, deflecting the Chaos blade. The Primarch and the First Daemon Prince spun in the smoke almost simultaneously. Ryan's blade only cut through a shadowy afterimage. Enraged, Ryan raised the Sword of Justice. "Dispel!"
"Boom." Light flashed again, forcing Be'lakor to return to its physical form. The Daemon Prince sneered, thinking this enemy was truly troublesome. Be'lakor chanted an ancient incantation, and behind it, eight massive Chaos orbs of destructive energy formed, each over two meters in diameter.
The orbs shot toward Ryan. The Primarch teleported to dodge the first two, but the rest pursued him. The third orb shattered Ryan's psychic shield, and the fourth and fifth struck him directly, sending him crashing to the ground, unable to rise.
Be'lakor thought this enemy was truly troublesome. His magic resistance was too high, rendering many of its spells—both offensive and controlling—ineffective. Curses had little impact on Ryan.
This made the fight difficult. Be'lakor had to rely on melee combat to defeat Ryan.
But Be'lakor's melee skills were far inferior to its magical prowess.
Ryan seemed unable to dodge, and Be'lakor began to imagine its victory.
A new vessel, a new conquest!
"Warp Rift!" At that moment, a clear voice rang out. The barrier between the warp and the mortal realm was torn open, revealing the chaotic birthplace of daemonic energy. The scene was all too familiar to Be'lakor—colorful clouds and bright bands intertwined, forming something incomprehensible to mortals.
The remaining three orbs were sucked into the rift, exploding on the other side.
The dark elf Olica, wearing a pale crown that shimmered with a purple hue, a black floral cloak, and a purple leather outfit, appeared before Ryan. She glared at Be'lakor but turned to Ryan with concern. "Master, are you okay?"
"Cough, cough. What a... troublesome opponent," Ryan said, covered in blood. His power armor was in tatters. He gripped the Sword of Justice and Ghal Maraz, whispering, "Olica, buy me some time."
"Understood!" Olica stepped forward. "Your opponent is me, daemon!"
When Be'lakor saw Olica appear before it, it froze. It stared for a long time.
The First Daemon Prince was stunned. It could hardly believe its eyes.
Wasn't this the Pale Queen?
The former ruler of the elven underworld pantheon, the Pale Queen?
The Pale Queen was actually saving this human?
Why? Why would a human ally with a dark elven deity?
Wait, wasn't this Sun King supposed to be allied with the high elven goddess Lileath?
What the hell? Are you kidding me?
In that moment, Be'lakor was utterly confused.
"Destruction Arrow!" But Olica gave it no time to think. The dark elf unleashed a massive spell, waving the Staff of Morai-Heg and chanting an ancient incantation. The sky split open, and a burning black Chaos lightning bolt struck Be'lakor.
Be'lakor caught the bolt with its hand, effortlessly analyzing and absorbing the spell's energy.
But Be'lakor miscalculated. As it absorbed Olica's power, a terrible cold seeped into its body—a cold born from the wails of countless souls in the Pale Queen's underworld. It was the power of a goddess forged from despair. Frost visibly spread across Be'lakor's body.
Be'lakor was immobilized.
Olica smirked, drawing the dagger "Omen of Sorrow" from her waist. The dark elf split into two, transforming into icy winds of the underworld, attacking Be'lakor from both sides!
Blood Fury!
Khaine's Gaze!
Above Be'lakor's head, the handsome face of Khaine, the Bloody-Handed God, appeared—a mark of Olica's killing intent. The dagger in her hand was covered in frost, ready to deliver the final blow!
Be'lakor panicked. It knew it couldn't withstand this strike, or it would be defeated, banished from the mortal realm!
In a fit of rage, Be'lakor spat out a mouthful of blood. The blackened blood transformed into ancient Chaos runes in the air, carrying primordial power. The thick, burning blood turned to nothingness.
As "Omen of Sorrow" pierced the Chaos shield and struck Be'lakor's neck, the frost covering its body vanished. Be'lakor teleported away, and Olica's dagger only hit a shadowy afterimage.
Be'lakor reappeared on a small hill about a hundred meters away. Unbeknownst to them, they had fought their way to the foot of the Beast Mountains. The Daemon Prince sneered and began chanting another spell. Olica clicked her tongue in annoyance, ready to continue the attack, when Ryan suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist from behind.
One arm draped over her left shoulder to her right, the other resting on the psychic runes on Olica's lower abdomen. The high elven runes on her stomach glowed brightly.
Olica's face flushed. "Master?"
"Olica, lend me your power!" Ryan said seriously.
The dark elf nodded. Ryan's psychic energy and Olica's sorcery merged, forming a dual-colored vortex of magic.
Ryan and Olica unleashed their combined technique!
Great Spell, Warp Black Hole!
A psychic black hole, over ten meters in diameter, shot toward Be'lakor. Everything in its path—forests, vegetation, soil, and rocks—was sucked into the black hole, heading straight for the Daemon Prince!
But Be'lakor remained calm. Its spell was complete. It raised a finger.
A black dot appeared in the path of the Warp Black Hole.
This was a world Be'lakor had once toyed with and destroyed, now devoid of all life.
Even so, this world had one final purpose to fulfill. Be'lakor summoned it, a testament to its power as the First Daemon Prince, the will of the one who once stood second only to the Chaos Gods. It was a force born from the warp itself!
In an instant, the terrain was obliterated, space and time twisted. Air, matter, spirits, wandering souls, and even the Warp Black Hole created by Ryan and Olica were all sucked into the singularity.
Great Spell, Annihilation Singularity!
The two spells collided, and both the Warp Black Hole and Annihilation Singularity vanished. A deafening explosion echoed in the vacuum, the shockwave knocking Be'lakor off its feet. The Daemon Prince stumbled back, covered in wounds from Ryan's psychic backlash and Olica's magic.
But Ryan and Olica were in worse shape. The shockwave sent them flying, crashing dozens of meters away. Ryan quickly shielded Olica with his body, protecting his dark elf maid as they landed on a patch of rocky ground. The pain in his internal organs made Ryan groan, blood streaming from his nose and mouth.
Ryan gasped for breath. He knew things were bad. The physical injuries were secondary.
What was worse was that this attack had drained most of Olica's magic and nearly all of his psychic energy.
Even with this, they couldn't defeat Be'lakor?
How could he possibly defeat such an enemy?
Ryan coughed up blood, holding Olica as he stood. The Sun King waved his hand, and Ghal Maraz and the Sword of Justice flew back into his grasp.
I am a Primarch. I will never give up!
Be'lakor was about to stand when a diamond-like beam of light shot from afar, piercing its thigh. The Daemon Prince howled in pain, rolling on the ground.
The light of the Lady filled the sky.
The goddess's healing rain showered the battlefield.
The Lady of the Lake, Lileath, had arrived.
"Be'lakor, your end..." The goddess's voice was cut off as Be'lakor summoned several Chaos beams, forcing her to retreat. Lileath quickly conjured a divine shield, but Be'lakor's existence predated even the oldest elven gods.
The shield shattered, and Lileath was pushed back, landing beside Ryan.
"Rise, my champion!" The goddess drew her Yggdrasil Heartwood Staff, her hair disheveled and her expression serious. "I cannot defeat Be'lakor alone."
"For you, my Lady!" Ryan bared his teeth, glancing at Olica, who was also ready to fight.
"Let us send Be'lakor back to where it belongs!"
______
(≧◡≦) ♡ Support me and read 20 chapters ahead – patreon.com/INNIT
For every 50 Power Stones, one extra chapter will be released on Saturday.