Even as the Lords of the Six Sun Alliance dominated the battlefield, Vlad could feel it.

A suffocating presence lingering beyond the edges of perception.

Watching.

Waiting.

The darkness beyond the Divine Kingdoms felt alive.

Somewhere within the depths of the Ninth Layer of Hell, immense auras stirred like sleeping monsters beneath the earth.

Paragons.

More than one.

Their presence coiled around the battlefield like invisible chains.

They were observing the fight with cold patience.

Waiting for weakness.

Waiting for exhaustion.

Waiting for the moment when the Six Sun Alliance made a mistake.

Vlad had always known it was only a matter of time before the Archangels made their move.

Yet that realization did not break his focus.

On the contrary, it sharpened it.

His grip around the Longinus Spear tightened as he poured more and more energy into the Quantum Eye, pushing his perception to its limits while preparing for the inevitable clash.

The forces of Heaven had done a remarkable job preparing the Ninth Layer of Hell.

It did not take long for Vlad to understand what had happened. Most, if not all, of the devils from the Eighth Layer had been transferred here. Once brought into the Ninth Layer, they had been transformed—twisted into divine followers serving the will of the Gods.

As for the Devil Lords who had once ruled these realms, their fate was even clearer.

They had likely been used as sacrifices.

The amount of fuel required to construct so many Divine Kingdoms in such a short time was staggering. Only beings of immense power could provide that kind of energy, and Devil Lords were the perfect source.

To deceive and sacrifice them so efficiently was both impressive and horrifying.

It revealed just how ruthless Heaven truly was.

The battle raged on for hours.

Despite the overwhelming strength and coordination of the Lords of the Six Sun Alliance, their progress was frustratingly slow. Even after all their effort, fewer than five Gods had been truly killed.

Gods possessed terrifying regenerative abilities.

Their Divine Kingdoms were directly connected to the Origin Power of the Ninth Layer, allowing them to recover even from catastrophic injuries. As long as even a fragment of their essence remained, they could rebuild themselves.

The only way to ensure their complete destruction was through overwhelming, decisive force.

Only the Paragons could deliver such blows.

Yet the White Death and the Antimatter Doppelgänger were conserving their energy as much as possible, aware that a greater threat had yet to reveal itself.

Even so, the drain on their reserves was steadily increasing.

The battlefield was turning into a war of attrition—and that was precisely the kind of fight the Six Sun Alliance could not afford.

The pressure mounted with every passing minute.

Merlin, Ankil, and the other Lords began to feel exhaustion creeping into their bodies. Their attacks slowed ever so slightly, their defenses strained under the relentless tide of enemies.

Then, everything changed.

Three overwhelming auras erupted from the depths of the Ninth Layer.

They surged forward like shooting stars, tearing through the battlefield with terrifying speed.

Two of them were towering warriors clad in radiant white armor, their forms wrapped in divine brilliance. Massive wings of plasma extended from their backs, radiating immense power.

One wielded a spear etched with dark red runes.

The other carried a sword engulfed in gray flames.

Vlad recognized them instantly.

Rafael—the original wielder of the Quietus Sword.

And Zamael—the Archangel who commanded the power of gravity.

The third figure was no less terrifying.

Time itself seemed to bend around him.

"Beelzebub..." Vlad muttered.

But something was different.

The devastating wounds that Vlad and the White Death had once inflicted upon his soul were completely gone. Not only had he recovered, but the essence of Heaven now flowed through him, enhancing his already formidable power.

The three Paragons radiated pure killing intent as they charged forward.

But their targets were unexpected.

They did not aim for Vlad, the White Death, or the antimatter doppelgänger.

Instead, they struck at the weaker members of the alliance.

The Obsidian Dragon King.

The Amazon Queen.

And Altharion—the Crown Prince of the Graecia Empire.

It was a ruthless and calculated decision.

Rather than risk a direct clash with the strongest Paragons, they chose to eliminate key figures who were already exhausted from hours of battle.

It was a dishonorable tactic.

But it was undeniably effective.

Merlin, Ankil, and the others were powerful—but they were also tired. Caught off guard, they had little chance of surviving a direct strike from Paragon-level opponents.

Beelzebub appeared before Altharion with a wide, almost manic grin.

His hatred for the White Death burned deeply, and the opportunity to kill his son filled him with twisted satisfaction.

His claw, infused with temporal power, lashed forward.

At the same time, Rafael and Zamael unleashed their attacks, their weapons descending with lethal precision toward their chosen targets.

Death was only a heartbeat away.

Then—

Clap.

The sound was simple.

Two palms striking together.

Yet its impact was anything but ordinary.

Space-time across the entire layer trembled.

Antimatter energy surged outward, rewriting the very rules of reality in an instant.

Under the shocked gaze of the Paragons of Heaven and Hell, their targets vanished.

In their place stood three figures.

Vlad.

The Antimatter Doppelgänger.

And the White Death.

The True Depravita of Wrath, Overlord, and the White Death looked at their enemies with cold, merciless smiles.

All the energy they had been conserving until now erupted at once.

They did not hold back.

They did not hesitate.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

The three explosions detonated simultaneously, their power overlapping and amplifying each other.

Everything within thousands of kilometers was annihilated.

Devils were erased instantly, their bodies and souls wiped from existence. Gods were blasted away, their forms torn apart and scattered across the battlefield.

Even Lords were sent flying, struggling to regain control.

For a brief moment, the battlefield fell into chaos.

And at its center stood the three Paragons of the Six Sun Alliance—unleashing the full extent of their power at last.