At the core of the Burning Moon stood the Nightmare Sacred King.
His eyes burned with overwhelming hatred and frustration as he fended off the seventy-two weapons that sought to impale him. Each strike rang like the tolling of a cosmic bell, echoing through the molten sphere that imprisoned him. His wings—artifacts as resilient as Fourth Realm treasures, capable of enduring the collapse of entire worlds—were no longer pristine. They had already been wounded by the Soul Shattering Sky and battered further by the crushing force of the Burning Moon. Now, the weapons of Ars Goetia pierced into them relentlessly.
Dark blood began to fall from his wings, each drop carrying imnse power, hissing as it vaporized against the searing environnt. The glow in the Nightmare Sacred King's eyes turned colder, sharper—no longer rely irritated, but enraged.
"Fine then… little ant," he growled, his voice reverberating like distant thunder. "Enough gas."
The Ancestor Power within him surged violently, burning brighter and brighter as it flooded his body. His wings expanded outward, their jagged edges slicing through the molten rock and earth, forcing back the unimaginable pressure surrounding him. The seventy-two weapons trembled as the force pushing against them intensified, yet they held firm—embedded deep, resisting his defiance.
A vacuum began to form at the heart of the Burning Moon as his power displaced everything around him. The flaming pentagram behind him reappeared, glowing with terrifying intensity. Its radiance climbed toward its peak, the energy within it compressing to a point where reality itself began to distort.
The Sacred King was ready to unleash his power when he heard it. "Detonate!"
Cain's voice cut through the chaos, reaching the core of the Burning Moon with absolute clarity.
The Nightmare Sacred King's eyes widened in shock as he felt it—the shift.
The seventy-two weapons embedded in the molten sphere began to glow.
"You bastard—!"
He roared in fury, but it was too late.
The Burning Moon, along with the seventy-two weapons of Ars Goetia, detonated simultaneously.
"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!"
The explosion was beyond colossal—greater than a supernova, greater than the birth of a star. It consud everything in its vicinity, annihilating the ground below and shattering the sky above. Arcs of lightning scread across the heavens as reality itself seed to tear under the pressure.
For several seconds, there was nothing but blinding light and destruction.
Then, slowly, the flas began to fade.
From the epicenter of that cataclysm, a figure erged.
The Nightmare Sacred King still stood.
Dark blood poured from his body. Five of his wings bore deep, burning wounds, their once-perfect forms now marred and cracked. One of his wings was completely gone—obliterated in the explosion. The bandages covering his body were scorched and torn, revealing fragnts of charred flesh beneath.
His breathing was heavy, uneven. For the first ti, there was a hint of instability in his life force.
Even for a Fourth Realm life form, enduring such an explosion at its core was no trivial matter. The fact that he remained alive—still standing—was already a testant to his terrifying power.
Yet despite his injuries, the Nightmare Sacred King's posture remained unyielding. His presence still dominated the battlefield.
His eyes imdiately began searching for Cain.
Inside him burned sothing far more intense than pain.
Humiliation.
He had not landed a single aningful blow.
Instead, he had been wounded—repeatedly—by soone he had dismissed as insignificant.
If word of this spread, his na would beco a joke across the universe.
That could not be allowed.
His gaze sharpened as he turned toward the sky—and then narrowed further as he looked directly at the sun.
There, within its blazing radiance, stood a figure.
The Scarlet King hovered amidst the solar flas, his body clad in the Omnissiah Sacred Treasure, its power radiating with divine intensity. His right gauntlet was raised, forming a blade of condensed energy that burned brighter with every passing second. Behind him, his Chaos Wings flared wide, channeling the fire of the sun into his weapon.
For a brief mont, sothing flickered in the Nightmare Sacred King's eyes at the sight of those wings.
Recognition.
But it vanished as quickly as it ca.
"Hmph. What an idiotic display," he sneered, though his killing intent surged uncontrollably.
The explosion had interrupted his Ancestor Power at a critical mont, causing a backlash that damaged his Ancestor Drop. But it did not matter.
He did not need it to kill Cain.
Without hesitation, his wings flapped violently, propelling him forward at impossible speed.
He shot toward the Scarlet King like a streak of darkness.
Yet—
Halfway through his charge, his eyes widened.
Cain appeared right in front of him, his blade reaching toward his heart!
The Nightmare Sacred King froze for a fraction of a second. He could still see Cain's figure within the sun—still standing there, unmoving.
But this—
This was real.
What remained in the sky was not an illusion, nor a clone.
It was a temporal remnant—an incarnation forged through the Quietus Force. It carried Cain's presence so perfectly that even a Fourth Realm life form had been deceived.
For that fleeting mont, it had worked.
But there was no ti to dwell on it.
Instinct scread.
Danger.
The Nightmare Sacred King reacted instantly, his wings folding inward to shield his body.
But he was too slow.
Cain's eyes burned with scarlet light as three suns ignited within his body—core phenona of Apollo Speed.
He had reached the second level within the Eighth Realm.
And three months ago, he had reached the third level. As for what he used to ignite the last of the Hollow Stars. It was no other than the Dark Blood King!
The Scarlet King's eyes glowed as his entire body burned with golden fire.
"Final Apollo Burst!"
His roar shattered the air.
His speed exploded.
Ti itself seed to lag behind him as he accelerated to a level that defied comprehension.
The blade descended.
"BOOOOOOM!"
A massive shockwave erupted across the sky as Cain's attack connected, driving both of them downward like a falling star.
They crashed into the land below, carving a colossal canyon across the Ninth Realm. Mountains shattered, oceans split, and the ground itself scread under the force of their descent.
Cain's eyes burned with cold determination as he drove his blade forward.
The tip of his weapon—capable of piercing Fourth Realm treasures—pressed against the Nightmare Sacred King's chest.
But it stopped.
The bandages.
Those cursed bandages wrapped around the Sacred King's body resisted the blade, their strange power holding it back.
Slowly—but surely—the blade began to push through.
At the sa ti, the Nightmare Sacred King retaliated.
His wings sharpened, transforming into deadly blades that lashed out toward Cain, aiming to pierce through the Omnissiah Sacred Treasure and tear his body apart.
Cain did not retreat.
He did not hesitate.
His eyes flared brighter.
"Fourth Realm Asura Form!"
Every cell in his body ignited.
Power flooded his being as his speed and strength surged to an entirely new level. His muscles scread under the strain, but he forced them forward, pushing beyond their limits.
His acceleration increased once more.
His blade drove deeper.
Deeper—
Until finally—
It pierced through the bandages.
And reached the heart of the Nightmare Sacred King.
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