Vlad did not have the luxury to worry about the other battles raging across the void. His opponent was no ordinary foe, but a full-fledged Lord—and not rely any Lord, but one hailing from a super-realm such as Hell. Against such a being, even the slightest lapse in awareness ant death.
Their blades clashed with apocalyptic force. Vlad’s sword roared with spatial storms while the Devil Lord’s seethed with dark flas, their collision unleashing destruction that spread like a plague in every direction. Vlad imdiately understood the danger—these flas were not rely fire. They devoured the essence of life itself, consuming vitality to fuel their growth. One careless exchange, and his soul could be reduced to cinders.
But he did not hesitate.
The instant their swords parted, Vlad’s body shuddered, and he vanished. Space folded in an instant, and he reappeared high above the Devil Lord, descending like a teor streaking with wrath.
The Devil Lord’s eyes widened in montary surprise. The young man’s mastery of the Space Law was astonishing—unheard of for one so newly risen. But the fiend was no novice. He had lived through countless wars, forged his craft in battles that had devoured worlds. His swordsmanship was the culmination of unending slaughter.
The black greatsword swept upward in a perfect arc, intercepting Vlad’s plunge. The impact twisted the trajectory just enough for the Devil Lord to pivot, his body flowing with supernatural grace. The fiery blade missed its mark, and in the sa motion, the Devil Lord countered—his sword screaming with dark flas as it slashed toward Vlad’s unprotected back.
Vlad reacted instantly. The power of the Seal of Sin surged through his soul, and with it ca his mastery of space. Reality itself warped, stretching the distance between blade and body. To the Devil Lord, it was as if his strike had to traverse an entire planet’s breadth, though in truth his sword had been inches from flesh. By the ti the dark edge finally arrived, Vlad had already vanished, reappearing at a distance before lunging forward once more.
Cold sharpness glimred in the Devil Lord’s eyes. The young man’s techniques were impressive, but they would not be enough. Again, their blades clashed, and again, sparks like miniature suns burst into the void. Their movents blurred beyond sight, their strikes carrying the radiance of nuclear detonations. And yet, despite the fury, neither gained the upper hand.
So perfectly matched were they that the Devil Lord had ti to speak.
"Why do you fight, young man?"
Vlad narrowed his eyes but gave no answer. His sword did the talking, each blow carrying with it his unyielding resolve.
The Devil Lord seed unbothered by the silence. His voice was calm, almost conversational, as their swords rang like thunder.
"My contract is simple. I must guard this world against invaders. Nothing more. If you cease your attack, so will I."
Vlad’s eyes narrowed further. For an instant, a aningful light flickered within them. The offer was logical—tempting, even. A battle like this carried great risk. The true heart of the war lay not here in the void but within the Zanis Howorld itself. If he disengaged, he could preserve his strength for the coming storm.
But then he smiled. A cold, wrathful smile.
"The more you try to avoid this fight," Vlad said softly, "the more I feel the need to give it everything I have."
The killing intent that exploded from him was palpable, a tidal wave of wrath and determination that even the void recoiled from. Vlad knew one truth about devils: if they wanted you to take one path, the only safe course was to take the opposite.
The Devil Lord’s expression darkened. The young man had not been fooled. Instead of falling into temptation, he was throwing himself into battle with suicidal ferocity.
Their blades clashed again, the void shattering beneath the impact. Lightning and spatial storms danced along Vlad’s sword, while the Devil Lord’s flas burned with infernal hunger. Blow after blow landed, faster, sharper, until at last blood was drawn. Cuts began to open along the fiend’s obsidian armor, proof that Vlad’s relentless drive was breaking through.
But the Lord of Hell was no stranger to adversity. Far from rattled, his eyes sharpened further. He read Vlad’s movents, adapting, adjusting, learning. Then, at last, he found his opening.
The black greatsword flashed forward, too fast to follow, piercing clean through Vlad’s chest. The blade drove deep, reaching his heart.
A wide, bloodthirsty smile spread across the Devil Lord’s face.
"Victory."
The word had barely left his lips when his expression froze.
Vlad’s left hand clamped around the Devil Lord’s sword arm, ironclad and unyielding. His chest was split, his heart impaled, but still he stood. His right arm lifted, and the blade of lightning and space descended.
"What!?"
The Devil Lord could not comprehend it. No being could survive with their heart sundered. Yet questions evaporated as agony consud him. Vlad’s sword carved across his chest, splitting muscle, shattering bone, searing his organs with storms of wrath and thunder.
A roar of pain ripped from the fiend’s throat. But even in tornt, he did not yield. His massive leg snapped up in a brutal kick that crashed into Vlad’s ribs, sending him flying through the void.
The True Depravita of Wrath tumbled, body rolling across the endless dark. For seconds, he spun, before regaining control and halting his montum. His face was pale, blood pouring freely from his wounds. The hole in his chest was gory and vast.
Yet even as the Devil Lord watched, horror spread across his features.
The wound was closing.
Before his eyes, the shredded flesh knitted together. The sundered heart reford, glowing faintly with power. In seconds, the wound had healed entirely, as though the strike had never landed at all.
Vlad could see the shock and confusion in the eyes of the Devil Lord, and he responded with a wide and radiant smile.
"What? Are you going to tell the mighty Devil Lord has never faced an immortal before?"
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