Vlad’s eyes grew cold as realization struck him—this enemy was no re infiltrator.
It was a Lord of the Vorotallicae Race.
If he had ignored his instincts and allowed the Viking fleet to enter Terra, the result would have been catastrophic. A battle between Lords was not a simple clash; it was the collision of suns.
The devastation of such power would have reduced continents to ash. It would have been a miracle if only one continent sank to the ocean’s depths. Millions of lives would have been lost.
Yet Vlad allowed no such thoughts to distract him. His focus narrowed to a singular point, his grip tightening on the Rusty Sword until it humd in resonance with his heartbeat.
That single punch earlier told him everything he needed to know—this opponent was strong, fast, and deadly precise. A single lapse in concentration could an death.
Across from him, the Vorotallicae Lord stared back with equal focus and killing intent. The molten light burning in his black eyes was pure rage.
He looked down at the wound still searing across his chest—a deep gash filled with flickering death fire that refused to heal. He was fad for his near-impenetrable defense, capable of enduring the strikes of Supre Powerhouses, yet the Rusty Sword had sliced through his armor. The wound burned his pride as much as his flesh.
But the pain soon faded. His gaze turned cold, analytical.
"I did a very good job hiding inside that insect," the Vorotallicae Lord said, his voice a chilling mixture of tallic resonance and humanoid tone. "I mimicked his soul, his life essence, even his ego flawlessly. How did you manage to figure it out?"
Vlad’s eyes sharpened, his tone calm but cutting.
"Tell who you are and your purpose," he said evenly, "and I’ll give you an honest answer."
A faint smile crept across the Vorotallicae’s molten face.
"I am Barbatos, Sacred King of the Chaovoratities Plane," he said with a mockingly elegant bow. "As for my purpose, you should already know. I ca here to infiltrate your world, slaughter as many of your people as possible, and escape before you could react."
The molten smile widened, the heat around him intensifying.
"But it seems," he added softly, "that is no longer possible. Your turn."
Vlad nodded slightly, his gaze unwavering.
"Your disguise was perfect," he admitted. "But you couldn’t hide the hatred inside your soul. I am sensitive to emotions like that."
Barbatos chuckled, the sound like grinding tal.
"I see. Well, then, that’s all I needed to know. Goodbye"
Vlad frowned, sensing the sudden shift in his aura. The Vorotallicae’s energy relaxed, his molten pulse dimming.
"Just like that?" Vlad asked quietly.
Barbatos turned his back, molten shoulders rolling with casual ease.
"Hahaha... boy, you’re young. I’ve lived long enough to see worlds crumble to dust. I know when a mission has failed."
He began to drift away, the molten cracks across his armor cooling, as if in genuine retreat.
But Vlad’s instincts scread again.
He tightened his grip, but it was too late.
A second presence erupted from behind him.
From Vlad’s shadow rose Barbatos, erging like a nightmare reborn, his body materializing in complete silence.
"His Gift..." Vlad hissed, realizing instantly what had happened.
Barbatos’s ability allowed him to project himself through shadows, deceiving even divine senses.
Before Vlad could reposition, the Vorotallicae Lord’s massive fist slamd toward the back of his head.
Barbatos grinned, victory gleaming in his molten eyes.
The blow connected—or rather, it should have.
His arm phased straight through Vlad’s skull, eting nothing but a ripple of warped space.
"What—?"
Vlad’s body flickered, half-subrged in another dinsion, untouched. A faint smile crossed his lips.
"You’re not the only one with Gifts."
Harnessing the Quantum Expanse, Vlad had shifted his form beyond reach, placing himself perfectly behind Barbatos. His sword flashed forward in an arc of light.
The blade struck true.
tal and flesh scread as the Rusty Sword carved deep into Barbatos’s back, molten blood and chanical fluid spraying into the void.
"Grrraaaghhh!"
Barbatos roared, his pain echoing across the stars. Yet instead of retreating, his power surged. The shadows around him rippled, lting into him, fusing with his armor until his body doubled in size. Heat radiated so intensely that the nearby void distorted.
He twisted, his fist slamming forward with a shockwave that cracked the air itself.
Vlad blocked, but the impact sent a pulse through his arms strong enough to fracture the bones beneath his skin. He was thrown back, his flesh blistering, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
Barbatos pressed on, launching a relentless barrage of strikes. Each blow was a world-shattering force. The void itself trembled with every impact.
Vlad felt his body strain under the assault. His skin burned, his bones quivered, and the vibrations of each hit rattled through his organs like thunder. Even with his regeneration, the damage was too much.
This was not a normal Lord—this was one of the top-tier rulers of Vorotallicae Race, a being whose might rivaled that of Nebolex and Orous.
But Vlad had changed too. He was no longer the warrior who had first descended into Hell and who could only bow in the presence of those powers.
As Barbatos’s next blow ca screaming toward him, Vlad’s body beca intangible once more, Barbados’ fist phasing past the True Depravita, leaving his back open.
In the sa instant, the Eye of Gluttony on Vlad’s forehead ignited. The surrounding sector dimd as all energy was devoured into his core, condensed into a single point of annihilating power.
The True Depravita of Wrath’s sword flashed like a lightning bolt through the void.
The blade bit deep beneath the right arm, slicing upward and leaving a massive wound that nearly severed the limb entirely.
Barbatos’s roar of pain shook reality itself.
The molten lines across his body flared, but he twisted violently, slamming the back of his hand into Vlad’s chest with such force that the Depravita was hurled across several kiloters.
Shadow tendrils crawled across the Vorotallicae Lord’s wound, sealing the broken tal and rotting flesh in monts. His arm regained mobility, and with it ca another storm of blows.
The wounded Lord struck again, faster than before.
Vlad clenched his teeth as he endured the barrage, using all his skill to avoid lethal blows and protect his vital organs, as those would take much more energy to heal. Until finally he was able to turn intangible once more.
Yet, the Vorotallicae moved at that exact instant, lting into shadow and avoiding the counterstrike with perfect timing.
That wasn’t a coincidence.
He had calculated Vlad’s rhythm and figured the exact mont when the cooldown of Quantum Expanse would be over and Vlad would use it again.
Barbatos’s dark eyes glead with cruel intelligence. His molten hand shot forward, seizing Vlad’s chest in a grip of fire and tal.
"Ingiren!"
The word was both command and curse.
A surge of molten flas erupted from his body, engulfing Vlad in a sea of living fire. These were not ordinary flas—they were Solar Chaos Flas, hot enough to pierce the core of a star.
Vlad’s body vanished beneath the inferno, the blaze expanding until it painted the void in crimson light.
Barbatos smiled, a terrible, victorious grin splitting his molten jaw.
"This attack has ended worlds," he said softly, his voice reverberating like a bell of doom. "Even you will lt before you can activate your intangibility again."
He watched the flas dance, confident. This was an execution he had perford countless tis. His enemies always burned to dust long before they could scream.
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