Chapter 198
Sir Maurel Favian were the last to evacuate the now falling garrison above their heads, he orders the knights to secure the survivors and the wounded, each capsule landed in different locations but because the flat open land near karion was once a huge wheat farm land , the holy knight that were untainted by the demonic parasite were able to locate the remaining capsules that landed, many were hurt and suffered injuries but because the holy knights of Álfheim can also cast healing spells they were able to rescue their brothers and sister safely,
the battle with the demon golems has ended as three beings were floating above them dessended they were wearing armor similar to Daniels Netherborn form, Maurel Favian wanted to greet the three strong beings but the one floating at the middle raised it hand and floated forward and gestured them to hold what they wish to say, as he introduce himself as Vassal Retainers of their master the real and current Netherborn, lord Daniel Laeanna Rothchester.
Vaelith pointed toward the now-open Third Gate of the main capital, Karion."You have only a few minutes to spare," he said sharply. "Our master's orders are clear, move toward the city, join the others, and unify your forces with the United Guild Hunters already securing the Third District walls."
The wind howled through the fractured archway as the group turned their gaze to the burning skyline of Karion.
Then, Kitsune floated forward. Having finished her incantations, she returned to her original position, eyes narrowing as she examined the wounded knight lying before her. Her ethereal glow reflected on the knight's armor, within, faint energy orbs pulsed violently, cracks spreading across their surfaces like breaking glass. The demon parasite sealed inside was stirring.
Kitsune descended lower, her expression hardening.
All nine tails unfurled behind her, rippling with divine luminance, each one moving with perfect synchronicity as magic circles formed beneath her feet. The air trembled.
Her voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the chaos."All of you, remain still."
The ground shimmered as holy light wrapped around the infected knight. The others could only watch in silence as the glow intensified, her nine tails weaving intricate sigils midair. For a brief moment, the demonic energy screamed from within the knight's body, then fell silent, suppressed under Kitsune's control.
Her tails shot out in a blur, precise, surgical, unstoppable. With one clean motion, she extracted the orb and hurled it far into the air, away from them both.
Kitsune hovered above the ground like a silent sentinel, her expression stripped of warmth. The infected knight didn't even have time to feel the pain; her tails moved faster than thought, each motion exact, mechanical.
The playful, cheerful spirit that once defined her was gone. In that moment, she wasn't a trickster or a friend, she was a machine, executing a single purpose with terrifying precision.
The air reeked of ash and sanctified ozone. The light from Kitsune's spell still lingered—thin, trembling motes drifting like snow through the smoky dusk. The ground where the orb had landed smoldered with faint embers before erupting in a silent, golden flare. The demonic core had been annihilated completely.
No one spoke.Even the howling wind seemed to halt in reverence.
The holy knights of Álfheim, veterans of countless battles, found themselves unable to breathe. The sight before them was divine and dreadful all at once, beauty turned weapon, mercy turned execution.
Sir Maurel Favian, his armor half-dented and his face streaked with dirt, knelt beside the fallen knight. He bowed his head slightly. "...You saved him?" His voice wavered, unsure whether to thank her or fear her.
Kitsune's golden eyes flicked to him, emotionless, still reflecting the faint afterglow of her power. "He was too far gone. The parasite would have consumed him within the minute."
Her tails slowly retracted, the radiance fading into faint embers of starlight. "I silenced what was left," she continued, her tone low, steady, too steady. "His soul will rest unharmed."
The knights looked at one another, unsure whether to weep or bow.
Vaelith and the two other retainers descended behind her, their armor whispering against the air as they landed in formation. The runes across their chestplates pulsed in sequence, mirroring Daniel's mark—the seal of the true Netherborn.
"The purification is complete," one of them said, voice hollow and metallic through the helm. "Proceed with the regrouping. Lord Daniel's will must not be delayed."
Maurel rose to his feet, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. "We… owe him our lives, don't we?" he said, glancing toward the burning skyline of Karion.
Vaelith's gaze followed his. The inferno on the horizon was no longer just a symbol of loss—it was the last battlefield."You owe him more than your lives," Vaelith replied. "You owe him order. What remains of it."
He turned toward Kitsune. "Retainer Kitsune, how many are stable?"
Kitsune's eyes softened for the first time, though her expression still bore the weight of divine detachment. "Eighty four . Three are beyond recovery. The rest can move."
"Then move," Vaelith commanded. march to Karion. Lord Daniel's task is still not finished, will not delay ."
As the knights began to gather the wounded, the wind shifted again, cold and sharp, carrying the distant roar of demons echoing from the city. The sky above was bruised purple and gold, the Third Gate flickering like a dying heart.
The three retainers descended in unison, their armored forms landing upon the charred earth with a muted thud that sent ripples through the dust. The golden glow that had surrounded them faded slowly, like the last embers of a divine flame.
Their posture changed almost immediately. The rigid, ceremonial poise that once reflected the commanding presence of their master, Lord Daniel Laeanna Rothchester, softened into something almost human. The tension bled away from their movements, the sacred aura around them dimming to faint wisps.
It was as if three statues of celestial warriors had suddenly drawn breath.
Vaelith was the first to move, resting his hand on the pommel of his blade. "Our task here is nearly complete," he said quietly, his tone more tempered now that the knights of Álfheim had already marched a fair distance toward the horizon.
Kitsune let out a faint sigh, her nine tails fading into translucent trails before vanishing entirely. "He wanted them to see us that way," she murmured, brushing a lock of white hair from her face. "Regal. Distant. Something they could believe in."
One of the other retainers, an armored figure whose eyes burned faintly blue through the visor, nodded. "To mirror His authority," he added. "To remind them that even amidst ruin, there still exists order… and a hand that governs it."
Vaelith's gaze followed the departing knights, their silhouettes small against the field of wheat and ash. "Mortals cling to what they can see," he said. "A symbol is worth more than any sermon. And for them, we are the shadow of that symbol."
Kitsune turned her gaze skyward. The clouds above Karion still burned crimson and gold, the reflection of the raging fires below. She could faintly feel Daniel's pulse through the ether, his control over the chaos beyond the Gate, his will steady and absolute.
"our master is holding back " she whispered. "For now."
Vaelith's expression darkened. "Then our time is short."
They stood there in silence for a moment, the wind brushing through the remnants of the garrison's banners tattered cloth fluttering like the last breaths of a dying world.
Kitsune finally broke the silence, her voice low, almost reverent."Tell me, Vaelith… when He finally unseals His full form, will even we be able to stand before Him?"
Vaelith didn't answer immediately. His hand tightened around his blade, and when he spoke, his voice carried both awe and fear.
"No," Vaelith said simply. "We were not made to stand before Him… only to serve."
The three retainers turned toward the city once more. Their forms blurred into streaks of light and vanished across the battlefield, three shadows moving in service of the one whose presence had already begun to rewrite the laws of creation itself.
"Our master's evolution is written in the unseen cosmos," Nyxiel said as they moved. "We are only the reflection of his will. The freedom he granted us is his gift."
"Those eighty-four discarded parasites are back," she added, voice flat.
Vaelith's boots ground into the cracked soil. "It is within expectation," he replied. "We were never truly equipped to exterminate demon tiers alone. We have limitations—unlike our master."
Kitsune's nine tails twitched, faint motes of light trailing each movement. "In hunter terms, we rank above a typical ranker," she said. "But even calamity-class beings with sixteen, twenty, or even sixty thousand mana can tire and fall."
Nyxiel's tone grew almost reverent. "What makes our master different is not only the scale of his power but the way he thinks. It's unpredictable, yet calculated, an intelligence that folds chaos into purpose."
"He's a mortal who wields godhood," Vaelith observed. "And we were made by that being. Let us not dishonor the freedom and autonomy he granted us."
Kitsune's expression hardened to awful calm. "Then we do what we were made to do. Make those demon golems feel fear until they sink into an eternal sleep."
After only a few minutes, the black mist began to thicken. The remnants of the parasites, once scattered across the scorched plains, pulsed in unison, like hearts trying to beat through mud. The earth trembled as each fragment drew in stray mana, weaving flesh and steel around itself.
Soon, eighty-four shapes emerged from the haze. Demon golems, towering, half-organic abominations, stood in the distance, their armor fused with the black stone and melted sigils of the fallen garrison. Yet something was different this time. Their movements were slower, more deliberate. They did not roar or charge. They watched.
Kitsune's eyes narrowed. "They're waiting for something," she said.
Vaelith could already sense the distortion forming at the center of the horde. It was faint, almost hidden beneath the tremor of chaos energy, but it was there, a heartbeat that didn't belong to a demon.
Then Nyxiel felt it too. "No…" she whispered. "Not them."
The ground split open behind them, about ten meters away from the three vassal retainers. the earth rose three figures, broken, bloodied, but unmistakably human. Their armor bore the crest of Álfheim, still gleaming beneath the ash.
these were the fallen Commander Relha Soren, Knight Alric Daeven. and lady Hirnésa
The three who had been infected by the demonic parasite and sadly weren't able to survive even with Kitsunes help, during the evacuation.
They stood in silence, their once-holy armor now laced with black veins that pulsed with parasitic light. Their eyes burned crimson. The runes of purity engraved into their gauntlets were inverted, twisting in unnatural spirals.
Kitsune's voice trembled, her usual composure cracking. "The parasites… they've nested in the corpses. They're using them."
The surviving Álfheim soldiers,those still nearing Karion's First Gate, halted as a chilling familiarity crept up their spines. Through the smoke and dust, a pulse of aura surged behind them, faint but undeniable. For a fleeting second, several raised their weapons, sensing that something had gone terribly wrong.
"Move! Don't stop!" barked Sir Maurel Favian, his voice strained but commanding. "Keep running until you see the banners of our empire of the insignia of the guild who are clearing the quest! Go!"
Through the haze ahead, a figure emerged, mounted on a warhorse of steel-gray hide, his silver cloak torn but still flying proud. It was Commander Eldric Marrow, flanked by a handful of cavalry.
"Maurel! Over here!" Eldric shouted as he rode forward, pulling the reins sharply to meet them halfway. Behind them, thunder rolled, not from the sky, but from the burning ruins of the floating garrison, now barely a hundred meters away.
The two knights met in the middle of the battered road, ash falling around them like black snow.
"Sir Maurel…" Eldric began, his tone halfway between relief and reprimand, "I thought the worst. By the gods, you look like you've fought half of Hell itself."
Maurel wiped the soot from his brow. "You're not far off, Commander. But I'm afraid greetings must wait. What you're hearing out there" he gestured toward the sky, where distant flashes still rumbled "is no ordinary battle. It's the clash of a Netherborn and an Unbound Demon Pier."
Eldric's eyes widened. "A Netherborn? You mean to tell me the rumors are true? That one of the noble heirs has"
"Yes," Maurel interrupted grimly. "The young noble from the eastern province. He's the one. I saw him with my own eyes… spoke with him before the garrison fell."
Eldric leaned forward in the saddle, voice low. "And what did he say?"
Maurel's expression hardened. "He warned me, Commander. Said the demon activity across the Empire isn't random, it's coordinated. Every grave disturbed, every haunt awakened, every corrupted beast slain, they're part of something greater. A summoning."
Eldric frowned deeply. "A summoning? To bring what?"
Maurel hesitated, the memory of the Netherborn's words burning in his mind.
"He said the demon are gathering, to come here again, like what was written in the Neather War remaining historical records ,"
under of the collapsing garrison echoing behind them like the drumbeat of a coming war.
was only the sound of armor grinding, metal against bone, as pure force could be heard as the garrison reacted toward the battle happening inside. Daniel once again felt presure as his enemy wasnt just arrogant but actually skilled in melee combat
at the same time the three resurrected knights raised their blades in unison. Behind them, the demon golems shifted formation, echoing their movement. The synchronization was too perfect, too calculated.
Vaelith clenched his jaw. "They've become conduits," he said grimly. "The parasites used their memories as anchors. They're not golems anymore, they're commanders."
Kitsune's tails lashed through the air, light flickering violently at the tips. "Then we cut the strings before they remember who they once were."
The retainers rose into the air, forming a triangular pattern above the corrupted knights. Below, the surviving Álfheim troops began to retreat toward the walls of Karion, dragging the wounded with them.
From the horizon, thunder rolled, a sound that wasn't weather, but power. The rift above the capital pulsed once, spilling a beam of crimson light across the battlefield, striking the resurrected Maurel and his companions.
The glow crawled across their bodies, and their voices, three in unison, broke the silence with a tone that was neither human nor demon.
There was only the sound of armor grinding , metal against bone , followed by the deafening crack of pure force as the floating garrison shuddered in reaction to the battle raging within its halls. The air trembled, torches flickered wildly, and the iron tiles beneath their boots splintered from the shock of every exchange.
Daniel exhaled sharply, feeling the veins in his neck tighten. His lungs burned from the thin air, every breath dragging against the weight of the pressure radiating from his opponent. This was no ordinary fiend. Orr'Khaal, the demon noble, stood tall and composed, his skin like molten iron beneath cracks of ember light. Two horns curled backward from his skull, and his elongated arms flexed with an unnatural grace , every motion precise, economical, deliberate.
When he spoke, his voice was like gravel rolling through flame.
"So… the new Netherborn wields his body like a weapon. Let's see if you've earned that title, boy."
Daniel didn't answer. He dropped into stance , left foot forward, shoulders low, his sword sheathed for now. His aura shimmered faintly, a storm of violet motes gathering around his fists.
Orr'Khaal smiled, revealing blackened fangs. He crouched — a stance Daniel recognized immediately: Demon Iron Form, a brutal martial art from the Fifth Pit. It relied on overwhelming physical dominance, counter-pressure, and angular disruption.
The air between them cracked , and both vanished.
Daniel pivoted on his heel, his arm shooting out in a straight-line jab aimed at Orr'Khaal's chest. The demon caught it mid-air with a clawed hand, twisted, and redirected the force , forcing Daniel into a roll. Before Daniel could recover, a knee smashed into his ribs like a hammer. The blow hurled him across the chamber, armor screeching against the marble.
Daniel rolled twice and sprang up, coughing blood. His ribs screamed, but he steadied himself.
Orr'Khaal didn't chase , he stalked, analyzing.
"You have strength," the demon said, circling. "But your foundation bleeds human hesitation."
Daniel clenched his jaw. He focused his aura, pushing it into his legs , the air rippled. When he moved again, it was like lightning made flesh.
A blur of punches followed, fast enough to leave echoes in the air , each one wrapped in violet energy. Orr'Khaal blocked three, dodged two, then caught the sixth strike in his palm. The impact exploded, sending both sliding backward on their feet, gouging deep tracks in the ground.
Daniel switched stances , Kaval Flow Style, blending circular motion with explosive bursts. Orr'Khaal countered with Pitbreaker, the demon art of grounded counters and bone-smashing redirects. Every move was answered.
Daniel swept low , Orr'Khaal leapt.Orr'Khaal lunged high , Daniel sidestepped and struck the ribs.Orr'Khaal retaliated with a spinning backfist, his arm igniting with molten energy. Daniel ducked beneath it, slammed his shoulder into the demon's gut, and flipped him , but Orr'Khaal landed on his hands, twisting mid-air to kick backward, heel-first, into Daniel's jaw.
The human reeled back, vision flashing white.
Daniel spat blood and forced himself upright again, aura flaring brighter, raw power pulsing like a heartbeat.
"You're right," he said hoarsely, "I am human. But that means I adapt."
He shifted into Reverse-Flow Combat, the Netherborn technique that amplified reflex through aura perception. Time seemed to thicken; Daniel saw the slight bend in Orr'Khaal's stance, the pulse of his muscles before every strike.
When Orr'Khaal attacked again, Daniel was already moving.
He parried the first punch with his forearm, ducked under the second, spun behind the demon's elbow, and struck the joint. Bone cracked. Orr'Khaal snarled, spinning to deliver a wide kick — Daniel caught the leg and, using the demon's momentum, threw him headfirst into the iron wall.
The entire garrison shook from the impact.
But Orr'Khaal rose again, blood running down his temple. He looked… pleased.
"Yes… that's it. Show me your wrath, little Netherborn."
His aura exploded outward, turning red-hot. The floor melted where he stood. Daniel raised his arm, shielding his face from the heat, and for a heartbeat, both combatants glared at one another two predators locked in defiance.
Then they clashed again.
Fists collided mid-air with a shockwave that shattered nearby pillars. Orr'Khaal's tail lashed out — Daniel caught it and spun, dragging the demon down before driving a knee into his spine. Orr'Khaal countered by grabbing Daniel's arm and slamming him into the ground, cracking stone.
Daniel's body screamed in protest, but instinct took over. He twisted his hips, rolled free, and struck upward with a surge of aura from his palm , a direct hit to Orr'Khaal's jaw.
The blast launched the demon through the air. He landed hard, carving a trench across the floor.
Smoke filled the chamber again.
Daniel stood there, chest heaving, aura dimming but alive. The ground around him was cratered, his armor dented, blood trailing down his chin.
In the silence, Orr'Khaal's laughter echoed, dark and hoarse.
"Not bad, human. Not bad at all… but this isn't over."
Daniel tightened his fist.
"Then come again."
The air screamed as both of them charged again , no hesitation, no measured testing of strength this time. It was pure violence.
Orr'Khaal lunged first, closing the gap with impossible speed. His clawed hand came downward in a vertical slash, fast enough to rip the air apart. Daniel raised his forearm and blocked, aura flaring on impact — the blow still pushed him back a meter, boots carving into the marble.
The demon's second strike came instantly , a hook with his left arm, claws aiming for the throat. Daniel dipped under it, twisted on his heel, and drove an elbow straight into Orr'Khaal's ribs. Crack. The sound was sharp, followed by a flash of dark blood.
Orr'Khaal snarled, spinning with the momentum, tail whipping around like a blade. Daniel caught the tail mid-swing, but the sheer force lifted him off the ground and flung him into a column. Stone shattered as his body hit.
Before Daniel could recover, Orr'Khaal was already there , closing the distance with a brutal knee to the gut, then a downward hammer fist to the back. The impact drove Daniel into the floor, tiles exploding outward.
Daniel coughed blood, teeth gritting.He caught the demon's wrist, rolled sideways, and twisted , Jujutsu throw. Using Orr'Khaal's own strength, Daniel pivoted and hurled him over his shoulder. The demon smashed into the opposite wall, a shockwave sending dust and debris flying.
Orr'Khaal rose, grinning through blood. "You fight like a beast now. Good."He crouched low, both arms extended the Pitbreaker form. His legs coiled like springs.
Daniel steadied his breathing, adopting Kaval Flow , Second Circle, the Netherborn adaptation of martial balance , a stance fluid yet anchored. His aura coiled around him like a storm made solid.
They moved again , and the world vanished into motion.
Orr'Khaal's fist shot forward , Daniel slipped inside the strike, slammed a knee into the demon's thigh, then twisted into a spinning backfist that cracked across Orr'Khaal's jaw. The demon staggered half a step, then retaliated instantly with a headbutt that split Daniel's forehead open.
Blood sprayed.
Daniel barely reacted , he countered by driving a straight punch into the demon's sternum, so hard that bone gave way with a wet crunch. Orr'Khaal roared in pain and fury, grabbing Daniel by the throat and lifting him clear off the ground before slamming him into a wall.
The wall caved.
Daniel gasped for air , but his eyes remained calm, cold. He raised both knees, kicked off the wall, and used his own neck as leverage, twisting free from the demon's grip while bringing both heels into Orr'Khaal's chest. The kick sent the demon staggering back several meters, carving furrows in the ground with his claws.
Both of them bled now — one with crimson, the other with black ichor.
Orr'Khaal lunged again, roaring, his claws igniting with infernal fire. He spun in a tornado kick that could split steel. Daniel ducked beneath it, slid forward, and drove an uppercut into the demon's abdomen , followed by a series of lightning-fast blows: one to the jaw, two to the ribs, then a palm strike straight to the solar plexus.
Each hit landed with explosive bursts of chaos energy, leaving glowing impact marks across Orr'Khaal's body.
But the demon refused to fall. He bared his fangs, absorbed the pain, and countered with a downward double-fist strike. Daniel caught both wrists midair, locking them in place, but Orr'Khaal twisted his body, kneeing Daniel in the ribs again , a sickening crack echoed through the hall.
Daniel stumbled, coughing, his aura flickering.
Orr'Khaal seized the chance. He slammed Daniel to the floor, mounted him, and began pounding — claw after claw, blow after blow. Armor cracked, blood splattered. Daniel shielded with his arms, but every strike felt like being hit by an avalanche.
With a roar, Daniel caught both of the demon's arms, locked them under his own, and used the mana burst technique , a surge of compressed chaos aura released all at once.
The explosion sent Orr'Khaal flying backward, tumbling across the battlefield.
Daniel stood slowly, his body broken but his eyes blazing violet. His breathing became ragged, yet the aura around him grew sharper , colder, denser. He took one step forward, then another.
Orr'Khaal rose again, shaking his head, spitting dark blood.
"You should've stayed down, boy."
"You talk too much."
They collided again, faster and harder than before.
Orr'Khaal threw a right hook , Daniel parried and countered with a left elbow to the cheek. The demon retaliated with a palm strike that cracked the air like thunder. Daniel absorbed it, redirected the force through his body, and returned it with a front kick that lifted Orr'Khaal off his feet.
Orr'Khaal landed, rolling backward , just in time to block Daniel's descending axe kick. Sparks exploded where their limbs met.
The ground beneath them cratered.
They circled , one limping, one growling , both dripping blood, both smiling in savage respect.
Daniel feinted low, then launched into a spinning elbow. Orr'Khaal barely ducked it, countering with a shoulder check that sent Daniel staggering. The demon followed up with a flurry of blows — body, ribs, jaw, ribs again , then finished with a straight knee. Daniel caught the leg, twisted it, and swept the demon's other foot. Orr'Khaal hit the ground , but rolled, catching Daniel's wrist and dragging him down too.
They grappled violently, rolling over shattered tiles, punches, chokes, headbutts, anything that worked.
A final explosion of aura sent both flying apart again, chests heaving, every inch of armor scorched or cracked.
Orr'Khaal straightened, his body trembling but his grin unbroken.
"You're strong for a human… too strong. No wonder the higher houses are afraid of you."
Daniel spat blood onto the floor, wiped his mouth, and smiled faintly.
"I'm not afraid of them."
"Then you'll die brave."
Orr'Khaal lunged again , but this time, Daniel didn't meet him head-on. He sidestepped, grabbed the demon's arm, and used his own momentum to flip him head-first into the floor. The impact shook the entire floating garrison.
Daniel's body slammed into the wall, leaving a human-shaped dent in the black stone before collapsing to his knees. His breath came in ragged bursts, blood running down from his mouth, his ears, his nose. His fingers trembled, twitching uncontrollably as if the energy inside him was fighting to break free. His vision blurred, colors bending at the edges — violet and red dancing, clashing, burning.
Orr'Khaal towered above him, shoulders heaving, his own body torn and battered but his aura still raging — molten black fire spilling from the cracks of his skin. "You're finished," the demon growled, voice like gravel grinding against metal. "I'll make sure they carve your corpse into warning stones."
Daniel didn't move. He couldn't. The weight of his pain pressed down like a mountain. Every nerve screamed; every muscle trembled under invisible pressure. Inside him, the violet core of his power throbbed like a beating heart , furious, desperate, alive.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay conscious. No. Not again. Not like the three infernals. He remembered the last time he lost control , the screams, the broken bodies, the hollow silence afterward. He had woken up drenched in blood, not knowing whose it was. That fear , the fear of forgetting himself , cut deeper than any blade.
"Stay awake… stay in control," he hissed to himself, voice cracking through his teeth. His aura flickered, half-dark, half-violet, crackling with violent instability. The energy wanted out. It wanted destruction. It wanted everything to burn.
Orr'Khaal began to chant, black runes spiraling around his arms. The temperature dropped sharply. The very air bent toward the demon's palm, forming a vortex of dark matter , a Point-Black black flame Spell, forbidden even among the infernal ranks. At this range, it would erase Daniel's body completely, leaving nothing but a crater.
But then… something shifted.
The moment Orr'Khaal's palm aimed at Daniel's chest, the demon's breath caught. His pupils dilated. For the first time in centuries , fear flooded his veins. His instincts screamed at him to move, to stop, to run.
"What… what is this?" Orr'Khaal whispered, voice trembling.
Daniel slowly raised his head. His eyes , once violet , now glowed with a deeper, radiant hue, swirling with streaks of black lightning. His presence changed. It wasn't anger anymore , it was something older, heavier, contained yet immeasurable. The air itself recoiled from him.
The runes around Orr'Khaal's arm shattered like glass. His knees buckled as his body locked up, unable to move. Every instinct told him that the being before him was wrong, something that should not exist in any realm.
Daniel stood, every movement deliberate, controlled, silent. His aura no longer flared wildly , it condensed, a sphere of crushing gravity that distorted light around him.
"You should've killed me," Daniel said quietly, his voice low and cold enough to freeze the air. "Now it's my turn to see what fear looks like… in a demon's eyes."
Orr'Khaal tried to summon his strength, but his limbs refused to obey. The space between them rippled — not from magic, but from sheer pressure. His vision tunneled as Daniel took a single step forward. The ground beneath his feet cracked and caved inward like glass pulled by gravity.
In that moment, Orr'Khaal finally understood.
It wasn't wrath.It wasn't rage.It was control , absolute, merciless control over power that could shatter worlds.
Orr'Khaal's fear solidified into paralysis. The demon's instincts screamed to retreat, yet his body refused to move. Daniel's presence pressed down like the weight of a collapsing world. The air rippled around him, every heartbeat echoing like a war drum.
Then Daniel moved.
He blurred forward, faster than Orr'Khaal's eyes could follow. The first strike was a low kick that shattered the demon's balance, followed by a rising knee that sent shockwaves through his core. Before Orr'Khaal could even grunt, Daniel pivoted, driving his elbow into the demon's ribs with enough force to rattle the floor. Each hit was exact—cold, mechanical, unrelenting.
Orr'Khaal swung a desperate claw, but Daniel caught the wrist, twisted, and drove his shoulder into the demon's chest, flipping him over. The demon hit the ground, and Daniel was already there, stomping once to pin his arm, another strike to disarm him, then a series of precise blows that broke through every defense.
He wasn't fighting with magic. He wasn't even using aura. These were earth-born techniques: Krav Maga for the joint locks, Muay Thai for the knees and elbows, Systema for the body rotation, every motion executed with brutal efficiency. Each impact was chosen to disable, disorient, and humiliate.
Orr'Khaal tried to roar, but Daniel drove a fist into his diaphragm, stealing the sound before it left his throat. He spun the demon around, locking an arm around his neck and slamming him into a wall. The stone cracked. Daniel pulled him free, only to drive him into the opposite wall with equal force.
Through the chaos, Daniel's eyes gleamed with something unfamiliar , a flicker of joy. The rhythm, the precision, the hunt,it all felt terrifyingly natural. The rush of motion, the control over every breath, every impact. For a moment, he remembered who he had once been: a soldier, a strategist, a man who lived for the perfect fight.
He ducked under a desperate swing and countered with a roundhouse that sent Orr'Khaal sprawling across the tiles. Daniel was on him before he landed, pressing a palm to the demon's chest, healing the damage just enough to keep him awake.
"Not yet," Daniel muttered, voice low and steady. "You don't get to fade."
Orr'Khaal's eyes widened as his wounds sealed enough for him to breathe—only for Daniel to seize him again, dragging him upright and driving him into the floor once more. The shock cracked the marble, sending fault lines spidering across the chamber.
Daniel's movements grew sharper, more deliberate. A jab to the throat to silence the next spell. A kick to the knee to ground the target. A palm strike to the chest to force the breath out. His aura pulsed in rhythm with his heartbeat, dark violet light exploding in controlled bursts, each one freezing the air for a split second before the next impact came.
"This is precision," Daniel said, striking again. "This is control."
Orr'Khaal's body began to fail him; limbs hung limp, his once-proud form reduced to a trembling ruin. But Daniel wasn't done, he stepped back, measuring the distance, watching the demon with the cold patience of a predator. His expression softened into a faint smile, the same one he used to wear during sparring drills years ago. The one that said he'd already won, but wasn't finished teaching the lesson.
Orr'Khaal's voice cracked the silence like a lightning strike.A sound of pure anguish ripped from his throat — low at first, then rising into a howl that shook the fractured walls around them. His body jerked violently, muscles locking, armor plates splitting apart as lines of light began to crawl across his skin like molten veins.
Daniel froze, instincts sharpening. "What.."
"The oath…" Orr'Khaal rasped, clawing at his own chest. His claws tore through his flesh, but the light only grew brighter. "The oath I took… I...failed… my master"
The words dissolved into screams.
Black fire erupted from the demon's back, licking the air in chaotic spirals. Runes , ancient and burning , carved themselves across his arms, his face, his heart. They pulsed in sequence, each one detonating with a dull boom that sent waves of heat across the chamber. The air turned thick, trembling with unstable mana.
Daniel took a cautious step back, his violet aura wrapping around him like a shield. He had seen this before , not in this world, but in the old war reports from the Abyssal Front. When an Infernal broke an oath bound by higher powers, their soul ignited as tribute. It wasn't death. It was conversion.
The flames spread rapidly, consuming Orr'Khaal from within. His eyes rolled white, his mouth still open in a silent scream. His body began to distort, cracking apart into fragments of burning obsidian. Every crack revealed more light, like a furnace breaking open from pressure.
Daniel's mind raced. The rift trigger. The binding oath wasn't just punishment , it was a failsafe. When an Infernal noble died by mortal hands, their burning soul became the fuel for the next summoning.
"No…" Daniel whispered, glancing around. "That's how they're opening it."
He extended his senses. Below, the residual energy signatures of the dead demon golems flared bright in his vision , spent catalysts. The remaining three noble demons, still locked in gluttonous feeding on the fallen Álfheim knights, glowed with the same energy. They were next in the sequence.
"Orr'Khaal!" Daniel shouted, even though the creature was far beyond hearing. "Stop the process! You'll"
The rest of the words were swallowed by the roar.
Orr'Khaal's chest burst open in a column of black-violet fire that tore upward like a spear through the ceiling. The shockwave hurled Daniel backward, cracking the tiles beneath his boots as he slid to a stop. His vision filled with light and smoke , a swirl of ash and embers spiraling into the air like a storm.
For one fleeting instant, the true form of the demon flickered before him:A being of iron bones and shadowed wings, proud even in death.A warrior's spirit chained by an ancient oath, finally breaking free in fire.
Then it all collapsed. The black fire imploded, leaving behind only drifting ash, glowing faintly violet as it fell to the ground.
Silence.
Daniel stood there, the faint hum of energy lingering like static in the air. The scent of sulfur and ozone burned in his lungs. And beneath it all, he could feel the pulse , deep, rhythmic, growing stronger.
The Rift was waking.
Daniel's expression hardened. He looked toward the horizon, where the engines of the floating garrison thundered closer, their lights glimmering through the smoke.
"…You damned fool," he murmured, staring at the ashes where Orr'Khaal had been. "You've doomed us all."
The floor beneath him shuddered, demonic energy was spreading across the now falling floating garrison as the first fractures of the Rift began to tear open.
The air cracked like glass.Daniel raised his hand and tore open a transfer gate, the oval of violet energy expanding with a thunderous whum. Without hesitation, he stepped through—reappearing in the storm-wracked sky above the burning plain, the first gate. The wind howled as he emerged midair, his cloak snapping violently, eyes locking on the floating garrison, barely seventy meters away and closing fast.
Its engines roared , a monstrous fortress of steel and infernal architecture, powered by enslaved souls and abyssal flame. Dozens of red runes pulsed along its underbelly, feeding energy into the widening cracks of the Rift below. The hum of dimensional instability vibrated through Daniel's bones. He didn't have minutes anymore. He had seconds.
Behind him, distant flashes lit the horizon , Vaelith, Nyxiel, and Kitsune standing amid the shattered corpses of the demon golems and knights, their armor scorched and weapons dripping black ichor. Vaelith's voice crackled through the comm-link rune:"Master, the enemy constructs are down!"
Daniel didn't turn. "Good. Call our forces , now. If I fail, the Rift will open, and thousands will pour through. You know the signal."
Without argument, the three warriors opened their transfer gates—each a swirl of blue flame and shimmering symbols , and vanished toward their assigned coordinates.
Daniel was alone.
He drew in a long breath. The world dimmed. The wind stilled. His heart slowed to a steady rhythm.And then , he activated it.
Plasma Genesis (Merged Skill): Fire + Lightning → Compressed Plasma Core.
The effect was instantaneous.The sky ignited.
Raw mana flared around him, spiraling into two distinct arcs of energy , one crimson, one azure. They twisted, clashed, and merged into blinding white plasma that bent reality around it. The heat was unbearable; even space itself shimmered under the density of power. Lightning veins burst across the clouds, every bolt drawn toward Daniel like iron filings to a magnet.
His right hand rose, palm open, mana channels glowing like molten veins under his skin. The compressed plasma coalesced at his fingertips—a miniature star, unstable, furious, alive. The fusion of fire and lightning screamed in protest, distorting the air with shockwaves that rippled for kilometers.
He whispered, almost reverently:"Plasma.. Genesis Cannon."
The sphere expanded, twisting into a spiral of plasma threads bound by violet energy. Rings of runic geometry appeared around it, spinning faster and faster until they blurred into pure light. Every rune represented a fragment of ancient code, thermal stabilization, containment, amplification all woven into a single catastrophic output.
Daniel thrust his arm forward.
The world detonated.
A beam of condensed plasma ripped through the sky, carving a glowing line across the storm. It struck the floating garrison dead center , a collision so violent the air itself combusted. A sphere of light expanded outward, swallowing sound, color, and motion in a single instant.
Then came the thundera rolling, earth-shattering roar that split mountains and sent shockwaves racing across the horizon. The garrison's hull folded inward like paper before bursting apart, fragments of burning metal raining down in a storm of molten debris.
For a moment, Daniel saw the silhouette of the fortress disintegrate in midair, its engines imploding, its infernal runes dissolving into white flame. The plasma beam pierced through it, continuing upward into the clouds, splitting them apart in a spiral that revealed the stars beyond.
When the light finally faded, only ash and falling embers remained.
Daniel lowered his arm, smoke curling from his hand, his breathing steady but strained. His aura flickered, drained by the magnitude of the cast. Below him, the Rift's pulsation faltered the rhythm weakening, the light dimming. But not gone.
He clenched his fist. "Not enough…"
The Rift still shimmered faintly, hungry, waiting for the final spark.
"Then I'll burn the spark myself," Daniel said, voice calm but resolute.
And with the last of his strength, he began to gather plasma again. this time, not to destroy, but to seal.
The blast still echoed across the ruined sky, fading into the low hiss of vaporized air. Daniel hovered in the aftermath, the storm split apart around him. What had once been a fortress now drifted as burning fragments, swallowed by wind and gravity.
But the Rift still pulsed below, weak, yet not dead.It shimmered like a wound refusing to close, its edges writhing in protest, violet and black light flickering in and out of existence. Daniel felt its pull deep in his bones, in his mana, in the rhythm of his heart. It wasn't just energy ,it was a summoning tether. The destruction of the garrison had only slowed it.
He knew what had to be done.No more external catalysts. No more waiting.He would be the core.
He closed his eyes and extended both hands toward the Rift.
Protocol: Genesis Stabilization , Override Sequence.Input Source: Daniel Rothchester , Soul Core Authorized.
His mana channels opened completely. Blood misted into the air as the pressure built, his aura flaring in spirals of white-violet plasma. His heartbeat thundered loud enough to shake the air around him.
"Come on…" he whispered through gritted teeth, forcing his power outward, molding it around the Rift's unstable edges. The energy burned through him, searing nerves and flesh, but he didn't stop. Fire and lightning bent inward, coalescing into radiant plasma threads that wrapped the dimensional tear like chains. The edges began to slow, to solidify.
For the first time since the battle began, Daniel smiled faintly."It's working"
Then the world screamed.
A voice erupted from inside the Rift, low, discordant, layered with thousands of whispers. The plasma light dimmed as shadows poured outward, thick and heavy as oil. The sealing pattern fractured instantly, runes snapping apart like shattered glass.
From the center of the tear, something moved.
The light bent around it. The temperature dropped to absolute silence. Then, like a nightmare taking form, a figure stepped through, massive, angular, and wrong.
The Rift spat him out into the physical plane, Thrakir, the Twisted One.
He was smaller than the great demon lords Daniel had read about, but no less terrifying. His flesh was a lattice of exposed bone and black sinew, shifting as if trying to escape itself. Two backward horns curved like broken blades, and in his chest burned a crimson vortex, a visible piece of the Abyss itself. His voice was a chord of madness and mirth, layered in echo.
"A mortal... sealing my gate?"
Daniel staggered back, the energy backlash slamming through him. Blood trailed from his mouth; his aura flickered weakly. "You're… Thrakir," he muttered, half in disbelief. "Minor lord of the Abyss."
The demon tilted his head, smiling with too many teeth. "Minor?" he hissed. "Titles are for the weak who still measure strength. I am what becomes when laws rot. When order dies."
Thrakir raised a claw, and the Rift behind him pulsed violently, expanding once more. The chains Daniel had forged from plasma shattered instantly.
Daniel's senses screamed, mana pressure rising far beyond sustainable limits. He could feel the Rift widening, feeding on Thrakir's presence, dragging the boundary between worlds apart like tearing silk.
"No…" Daniel growled, planting his feet in midair, summoning the last dregs of his strength. His aura reignited, unstable, erratic, burning like a dying star. "I won't let you through!"
Thrakir chuckled, the sound bubbling and distorted. "Then burn, human. Burn with the gate you tried to close."
Daniel roared.
His entire body ignited in plasma light—Fire and Lightning fusing once more, but this time uncontrollable, transcendent. The storm around him spiraled inward, drawn into his core. His veins glowed, his hair shimmered in white arcs, his eyes blazed pure violet.
The world detonated in light and ruin.
Daniel's overcharged aura split the clouds apart as Thrakir's blast collided with him mid-charge—but before he could release the final strike, a figure flashed into view.
"Enough, Daniel!"
Melgil. His arm wrapped around Daniel's, redirecting the unstable current just as Thrakir's counterblast hit them both. The collision was cataclysmic, two titanic forces folding reality in on itself. The ground fractured in a spiderweb of molten veins; the air howled as the pressure crushed everything between the two energies.
They were thrown like meteors, Daniel and Melgil hurled across the shattered plateau, their bodies crashing through obsidian pillars before skidding across the molten ground.
Daniel's vision swam. His plasma aura flickered wildly, cracking his skin open with arcs of energy. His body was trying to tear itself apart, still feeding power to a spell he hadn't released.
Melgil pushed himself up first, half his robes burned away, wings torn and bleeding light. "You damn fool," he rasped. "Do you even realize what you were about to do? You would've destroyed yourself, and the leyline beneath us!"
Daniel's glare was faint but furious. "I could've closed it… I had to close it."
Before Melgil could answer, a low rumble shook the air.
The Rift no longer a wound, but a devouring sun, expanded, swallowing the skyline. From within, claws and fangs of shadow clawed through the edges of the dimensional tear.
And there, in its heart, Thrakir grew.
The demon's form doubled, then tripled in size, tendons snapping like chains as he forced his essence through the widening gate. His horns spiraled like twin blades of obsidian, his chest glowing with a furnace core of red-black light.
"Do you see now?" Thrakir roared, voice echoing across the plains like an earthquake. "This world has no gatekeeper worthy of my realm!"
The Rift shrieked ,its sound a thousand voices crying in reverse. Lightning of void-energy arced around Thrakir as he pushed further through, his army's silhouettes swarming behind him like a black tide.
Daniel stumbled to his feet, chest heaving, eyes flaring red. Melgil grabbed his arm to stabilize him, but Daniel's aura was already climbing again, plasma threads wrapping his body like ribbons of liquid fire.
"I'm not done," Daniel said through gritted teeth. "He's not walking through that gate."
Melgil's gaze hardened, realization dawning. "You intend to use your soul as a counter-core again… Daniel, if you do that now, there won't be enough left of you to return."
"Then tell them," Daniel whispered, looking toward the city's faint silhouette beyond the smoke. "Tell them I made it count."
He raised his hand again, unstable, trembling, divine. The sky began to burn anew.
Would you like me to continue with the scene of Daniel's soul ignition and confrontation with Thrakir's emerging army, or with Melgil's desperate attempt to save him from self-annihilation?