The Joint Arts technique detonated across the Sanctuary with devastating force.
Soul Decay Apocalypse rged Chaos Art’s corrupting entropy with Soul Art’s consciousness-targeting precision, creating an attack that operated on multiple conceptual levels simultaneously. The technique didn’t just damage physical bodies or mystical structures—it attacked the fundantal concept of "living coherence" itself.
Warriors caught in the blast radius found their souls decaying while their bodies corrupted, the two effects reinforcing each other in cascading failure. Consciousness fragnted as entropy consud the mystical energy sustaining it. Physical forms dissolved as corrupted souls could no longer maintain ordered structure.
The Sanctuary’s defensive formations shattered like glass, unable to withstand an assault operating at such fundantal levels.
Hundreds of Nephilim warriors died instantly, their existence simply ending as the Soul Decay Apocalypse consud them completely.
But not all of them.
Valdris’s eyes narrowed in genuine surprise as he observed the aftermath.
Approximately forty percent of the defenders had survived—their combined defensive techniques and mystical barriers had been sufficient to reduce a lethal attack to rely devastating. Warriors lay wounded throughout the Sanctuary, their bodies corrupted and souls damaged, but alive when by all reasonable calculation they should have been annihilated.
"Impressive," Valdris murmured, genuine respect in his multiple-toned voice. "Your defensive coordination exceeds what I projected. You converted certain death into survivable injury through distributed mystical reinforcent."
Kael stood among the survivors, his body showing extensive corruption damage but his consciousness still intact. Blood ran from his eyes, nose, and ears—signs of soul damage that would have killed ordinary practitioners.
"We’ve... survived worse," he gasped, forcing himself to remain standing despite catastrophic injuries. "The Labyrinth... has thrown everything... at us for a thousand years. We... endured. You won’t... huff huff... break us!"
Valdris studied the remaining defenders with professional assessnt.
They were already broken, dying, their combat capability reduced to near zero. But they still stood, still maintained formation, still refused to surrender.
"You cannot win," Valdris stated factually. "Even with your remarkable resilience, you lack capabilities to threaten . Surrender now, and I’ll allow survivors to receive treatnt. Continue resisting, and I’ll simply escalate until nothing remains."
"Never," Sera replied, her voice weak but defiant. "This Sanctuary... is our ho. Our lives an nothing... compared to protecting it."
Valdris sighed, the gesture suggesting disappointnt rather than frustration.
"Then you leave no choice."
He raised both hands, mystical energy gathering once more, but this ti in patterns that suggested summoning rather than direct attack.
"Soul Art, Dominion Technique, Sequence #0: Divine Beast Manifestation—Multiple Deploynt!"
Reality tore open in five separate locations simultaneously, wounds in space releasing creatures that transcended natural law. Five Divine Beasts erged, each asuring three ters in length, their forms constructed from condensed Soul Energy that radiated power approaching Divine classification.
The Beasts’ eyes glowed with intelligent awareness as they fixed on their targets—the surviving Nephilim defenders.
"Kill everyone," Valdris commanded simply. "Indiscriminate slaughter. Leave no survivors except Council mbers—I want them alive for interrogation."
The five Divine Beasts moved imdiately, spreading throughout the Sanctuary with speed that made tracking them nearly impossible.
The weakened defenders tried to mount resistance, but their injuries and depleted Ether reserves made effective combat impossible. Warriors who’d survived the Soul Decay Apocalypse fell to the Beasts’ claws, their already damaged souls unable to withstand additional assault.
Screams echoed throughout the Sanctuary as the Divine Beasts carved through defenders and civilians alike, their mystical nature making them immune to the desperate counterattacks survivors attempted.
Valdris watched the slaughter with professional detachnt, analyzing the Nephilim’s defensive capabilities even as they were systematically destroyed. His investigation required understanding their full potential, and combat data provided the most accurate assessnt.
Then he felt it—a new mystical signature approaching rapidly from the Sanctuary’s outskirts.
Multiple practitioners moving in coordinated formation, their Ether signatures suggesting combat capability despite obvious injuries.
And leading them, a presence that carried familiar characteristics—
The young Nephilim with dual Art affinities who’d destroyed his earlier Divine Beast.
’They’ve returned from their expedition,’ Valdris realized. ’Attempting to defend their settlent despite being wounded and exhausted. Admirable but futile.’
Rey and his surviving team mbers erged from a side passage, their appearance showing the recent combat against Valdris’s first Divine Beast. Four dead, three critically wounded, another two with severe injuries—but the core fighters remained operational enough for one final desperate assault.
They tried to ambush Valdris while his attention was focused on the Divine Beasts’ slaughter, their approach utilizing concealnt techniques that would have been effective against lesser opponents.
But Valdris was a Devil.
His perception operated at levels that made stealth against him functionally impossible.
"A predictable tactic," Valdris stated without turning around. "Attack while the enemy is distracted, hoping to achieve decisive advantage through surprise."
He gestured casually, and Rey’s entire team was blown backward by invisible force, their ambush attempt failing before it could properly begin.
The survivors scattered imdiately, adapting to the failed opening with practiced combat instincts. But they were injured, exhausted, and facing an opponent whose capabilities exceeded anything they’d encountered before.
Valdris engaged them with techniques that demonstrated the gulf between Category S and Devil classification.
Lyra attacked first, using her decades of combat experience to launch a coordinated Spirit Art assault designed to create openings for her teammates.
Valdris simply looked at her, and she collapsed.
"Soul Art, Dominion Technique, Sequence #1: Consciousness Severance."
Her soul was separated from her body in an instant, consciousness dispersing into the ambient mystical energy before she could even scream. Her physical form crumpled like a puppet with severed strings.
Two more warriors attempted coordinated assault from opposite directions, their synchronization suggesting practiced teamwork.
Valdris activated one of his Divine-grade Artifacts—the bracers on his wrists—and spatial distortions erupted around both attackers. They were teleported into the path of each other’s attacks, killing themselves with their own Techniques before they could react to the displacent.
The surviving team mbers fell back, their combat effectiveness reduced to desperation rather than tactics.
Only Rey, Elara, and one other veteran remained combat-capable.
The rest were either dead or too injured to continue fighting.
Rey recognized the impossible situation imdiately. They couldn’t win through conventional combat. Any direct assault would be countered effortlessly, any tactical maneuver anticipated and neutralized.
He had to resort to sothing else!
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