"A positive mindset is a power in its own right, Emperor, but Demon Lords are not asured on the sa scale as Demon Gods. You and I are currently hovering in that precarious space... above the Gods, yet below the Lords in terms of raw conceptual power."
Adam, the Ex-God King, spoke with the gravity of a man who had seen empires rise and fall within the blink of an eye.
His gaze remained locked on Belial, whose very presence seed to bend the light of the surrounding universes.
"In simpler terms," Adam added, his voice dropping to a somber tone, "even though you can erase thousands of Demon Gods with a single thought, killing a Demon Lord... that is a feat that borders on the impossible. They are not just beings; they are the physical manifestations of the Abyss’s will."
Belial, overhearing the praise, let out a sharp, jagged laugh. He turned his head toward his remaining army, his handso face contorting with a flash of genuine irritation.
"You lot are nothing but dead weight!" Belial scread, his voice rippling with the power of a command. "Return to the Demon Realm and await your penance. Your incompetence has soured my mood."
With a violent gesture, Belial tore the fabric of space behind him. A jagged, bleeding rift opened, leading back to the heart of the Demonic capital.
The surviving Demon Gods didn’t need to be told twice. They scrambled toward the portal, their eyes darting back in terror at the golden swords of Annihilation that still floated in the void like silent executioners.
In a matter of seconds, the demonic gathering had vanished, leaving Belial alone against the Emperor and Adam.
Sunny didn’t let the mont settle. He raised his hand, his fingers glowing with a concentrated essence of Faith and Divine Creation. He pointed toward the vacuum and fired a beam of light.
WHOOSH.
Mirroring Belial’s feat, Sunny manifested his own portal.... not a jagged rift, but a gate of violet-gold energy.
From the gate, sixteen streaks of light shot out like falling stars. They moved with a synchronization that defied logic, instantly forming a complex, spherical cage around the Demon Lord.
Belial froze, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the newcors. ’How are they moving?’ he thought, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing his face.
He had established a Domain of Stagnation; only those with the authority of a Lord or a Void-Born God at full power should have been able to navigate this space.
"And they are just... clones?" Belial whispered.
The sixteen beams of light solidified into physical forms. Each one wore the sa cosmic robes and the sa cosmic mask as Sunny. However, each clone radiated a different hue, signifying the specialized task they had been performing across the multiverse.
The War Clone stood at the vanguard, his robes a deep, blood-crimson, radiating a fiery aura so fierce it seed to challenge Sunny’s own presence.
Others glowed with the soft green of Life, the cold blue of Logic, or the shimring silver of Space.
Belial’s ntal gears turned at a frantic pace. He sensed their auras, and the realization hit him like a physical blow.
’No... they don’t just mimic him. They share the sa soul? Is this soul-splitting? Did Adam teach him this?’
The idea of splitting a soul into sixteen independent pieces while maintaining consciousness in each of them was a feat of ntal fortitude that made Belial’s skin crawl.
"Haha!" Adam laughed, seeing the confusion on the Lord’s face. "Don’t look at , Belial. I gave him the blessing of the Soul Splitting talent, yes, but that gift only allowed for four splits at most. This... this sixteenfold monstrosity? This is his own doing. The boy is a glutton for experience."
"What about the bodies?" Belial asked, montarily forgetting the battle in his curiosity. "The power level of each clone is identical to the original. That isn’t just soul-splitting; that’s body and soul duplication."
"You are right... Sowhat," Sunny’s voice echoed from seventeen different directions at once.
His clones didn’t need verbal orders. Though each possessed a distinct personality forged by their travels, they were all fragnts of the sa "I".
They knew the Emperor’s intent before he even fully ford the thought.
Simultaneously, the sixteen clones lunged.
There were no spells. No grand manifestations of law. This was a move designed for the most primal form of conflict: a close-quarters bloodbath.
They converged on Belial from every conceivable angle, a whirlwind of cosmic fists and kicks.
"Do you truly believe these weaklings can defeat ?" Belial sneered.
He moved. To the naked eye, it looked as if he were dancing through rain without getting wet. He bypassed the barrage of punches with a fluidity that was sickening to behold. Even when the clones coordinated to block every possible escape route, Belial seed to slip through the "gaps" in reality, his body phasing through strikes that should have shattered universes.
Sunny watched from the periphery, his Combat Master class working at overti speeds.
’Learn. Analyze. Adapt,’ Sunny thought, a smirk hidden beneath his mask.
His goal wasn’t just to kill Belial... not yet. He was using the sixteen clones as sensory probes, feeding data back to his main mind.
He was breaking down the mysteries of Belial’s fighting style, incorporating the Lord’s fluid grace into his own combat style while pushing his talent toward the SSS-Grade peak.
"Boring," Belial whispered, his eyes gleaming with boredom.
As he prepared to retaliate and wipe the circle of clones away, a single, heavy fist caught him squarely on the jaw.
BOOM!
The shockwave rippled across the voud, shattering nearby asteroids into dust. Belial was sent gliding backward for nearly a light-year, a streak of crimson light cutting through the darkness.
However, the clone that had landed the blow didn’t celebrate. The mont of impact had triggered a violent backlash; the clone’s arm... and then its entire torso disintegrated into shreds of light, unable to withstand the touch of Belial’s physical form.
Belial stopped his montum and touched his lip with a slender finger. He stared at the single drop of red blood that stained his skin.
"Ti to get serious," the Lord whispered.
In the blink of an eye, he sidestepped through the dinsions and appeared directly in front of the War Clone.
"You like hand-to-hand combat?" Belial asked, his voice a low, terrifying growl.
He lunged forward, his fist moving so fast it bypassed the concept of distance. He plastered his hand against the clone’s chest.
CRACK.
The clone was blasted into smithereens, its cosmic essence scattering into the wind.
"Well... maybe you were right, Adam," Sunny said, placing a hand over his own heart as if feeling the pain of his fallen clone. "If he can delete a soul-clone with a casual punch, doing the sa to my main body would be child’s play."
"But," Sunny added, his voice regaining its amused edge, "strength has never been my strongest suite. I rely on my endurance... and the inconvenient habit of returning from the grave."
As he spoke, the two destroyed clones began to reform, their particles spinning back into existence through the power of Divine Immortality.
But Sunny’s true ace was his God’s Authority.
Currently, he was channeling ten of the most potent talents from his followers. One of those slots was occupied by Adam’s SSS-Grade talent: Resilience.
It was a conceptual shield. Every ti Sunny or his clones took damage, the talent analyzed the nature of the strike.
It made the user adaptive. Every punch Belial landed was being "mapped."
Sunny was playing a dangerous ga of attrition. He was letting Belial strike his clones, using their "deaths" as a learning curve.
He was waiting for the mont when the Resilience talent would flip the switch, making his flesh completely immune to the physical damage and the maybe even his law of lies.
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