Archangel Zamael’s eyes were full of bloodlust. He had not forgotten the humiliation he suffered at the hands of the True Depravita of Wrath, so he attacked with all his power.

His spear descended without flourish, without wasted motion—only inevitability.

Gravity collapsed.

The instant his weapon fell, space around Vlad compressed into a singularity-like point. Mountains in the distance folded inward, the battlefield bending as if the universe itself were being dragged toward the spear’s tip.

That was the power of a Paragon, the ability to twist the very fabric of the universe.

Yet, there was no fear in Vlad’s eyes, only sharpness. The first time he faced the Archangel of Gravity, he was forced to use a hidden trick to overpower him. Yet, things were different this time; he was stronger, and his domain over space could twist gravity itself!

The True Depravita of Wrath did not retreat.

Instead, he thrust forward with the Longinus Spear, and space answered.

A ripple spread outward—then inverted.

Where Zamael pulled inward, Vlad pushed outward.

The collision came—

—and the world broke.

"BOOOOOOM!"

A spherical shockwave of warped space and crushed gravity erupted, erasing everything within thousands of kilometers. Devils caught too close were flattened into nothing, their bodies compressed into microscopic fragments before vanishing entirely.

Even the Lords and Gods that were not careful were wounded by the shockwave of the Paragons.

Zamael twisted his spear.

Gravity shifted direction instantly.

Up became down.

Forward became backward.

Even time stuttered as the gravitational distortions began to interfere with its flow.

Vlad’s body flickered as he felt his entire body pull into a domain from which he would not be able to escape. Quantum Form did not work against Zamael, as gravity could crush through the dimensional layers.

However, the eye still granted the power to shatter space and vanish into a void.

Zamael immelty searched for Vlad, only for his eyes to widen as he saw the True Depravita reappear right above him, already thrusting downward. But the Archangel reacted instantly—his spear rotated, dragging an entire segment of space along with it.

Vlad’s attack bent mid-trajectory.

The spear missed.

Zamael countered.

His weapon lashed upward, dragging a tidal force of gravity that tore the battlefield apart in layers. The ground peeled upward like a broken crust, entire continents of the Ninth Layer lifting into the sky.

Vlad’s eyes narrowed as he saw that dark wave of gravity coming for him. He twisted space again—but this time, he did not resist.

He redirected.

The gravitational wave bent around him, redirected into the distance—

—and obliterated an entire Divine Kingdom.

Golden cities collapsed instantly, crushed into dust, making a God scream in agony.

Zamael’s eyes burst with hatred.

"Bastard!"

Vlad answered with motion.

He stepped—

—and space folded.

Thousands of afterimages appeared simultaneously, each one real for a fraction of a second, each one thrusting with the Longinus Spear.

Zamael roared.

Gravity exploded outward in all directions.

"EVENT HORIZON!"

Everything within millions of kilometers froze under absolute pressure. Even light slowed.

Most of Vlad’s afterimages shattered.

But one broke through.

Longinous piercing through the shoulder of the Archangel, as they blasted into the distance.

While Vlad and Zamael crashed with the power of a thousand bombs, golden portals multiplied above the battlefield.

Thousands.

Tens of thousands.

Then—

Millions.

The Antimatter Doppelgänger raised its hand.

"Heaven’s Gate."

The storm began.

God weapons fell like the wrath of creation itself—each one infused with antimatter, each one capable of erasing entire regions of existence.

They did not descend randomly.

They hunted.

They locked onto Rafael from every direction, forming a prison of annihilation.

Rafael saw that golden rain and could feel the power to kill Paragons in it, yet he did not evade. Although he had been defeated by Vlad in a single strike, the truth was that he failed because he underestimated his opponent and knew nothing about True Depravitas’ powers.

Yet, things were different now, and he was ready to show the might of the Archangel of Quietus.

He stepped forward.

Gray flames ignited across his body.

Quietus.

The moment the first weapon reached him—

—it stopped.

Not blocked.

Not deflected.

Stopped.

Its particles froze mid-motion, suspended in a state where movement itself no longer existed.

Then—

It disintegrated.

Not through force, but through cessation.

The Doppelgänger’s eyes narrowed. Overlord knew that the power of Quietus was formidable, even greater than the one Vlad had shown before.

After all, he only used the power of a weapon, while the Archangel channel that comsic force with his very soul.

More weapons fell.

Faster.

Denser.

An entire sky of annihilation collapsed onto Rafael.

The Archangel swung his blade.

A wave of gray flames expanded outward.

Where it passed—

motion died.

The descending weapons froze... then crumbled into inert fragments, their antimatter properties nullified before they could react.

But Overlord adapted instantly.

The next volley changed.

The weapons did not descend—

they appeared.

The True Depravita of Pride combined Vlad’s domain over space with his Archangel’s Gift.

Spatial folds opened directly beside Rafael, unleashing point-blank detonations of antimatter.

"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"

Explosions tore through his body, ripping apart wings, armor, and flesh.

For the first time—

Rafael was pushed back. A deep frown appeared on his face as that attack took him by surprise.

But he did not fall.

Gray flames surged violently, reconstructing his form even as more weapons detonated around him.

He lunged forward.

The Doppelgänger met him head-on.

Antimatter surging across Excalibur and Durendal—

—and clashed against Quietus.

The collision produced no explosion.

Only silence.

A dead zone where even energy refused to exist.

Then—

it shattered outward violently.

The Doppelgänger was hurled back, its torso partially erased.

Rafael staggered, half his body bloody.

While Antimatter and Quietus collided, Time and Entropy were trying to devour each other.

Beelzebub vanished.

The White Death did not turn.

He punched backward.

His fist struck empty air—

Then—

Beelzebub appeared there.

The blow connected.

"BOOM!"

Entropy and gravity detonated together, collapsing Beelzebub’s body inward as decay spread across his flesh.

But before the destruction could complete—

He disappeared again.

Reappearing seconds into the future.

Fully restored.

The White Death narrowed his eyes.

Time.

Not manipulation—

Traversal.

It was clear that the power of the Devil Paragon had improved. As for how he did it, the White Death did not know, but he could feel the power of Heaven cursing through the fiend.

Beelzebub grinned.

"You cannot kill what you cannot catch."

He vanished again—

appearing above, below, behind—striking from impossible angles, each attack skipping across time itself.

Claws tore into the White Death’s body, ripping flesh, shattering bone.

But every time—

The White Death endured.

And adapted.

He slammed his foot into the ground.

Gravity exploded outward.

"DOMAIN OF ENTROPIC COLLAPSE!"

A sphere formed.

Within it—

time slowed.

Not through temporal power—

but through decay.

Everything began to break down.

Even the flow of time itself became unstable.

Beelzebub reappeared—

—and staggered.

For the first time, his temporal jumps faltered.

The White Death moved.

One step—

—and he was there.

His fist crashed into Beelzebub’s chest.

Entropy flooded inward.

The Devil Paragon screamed as his body began to age and decay, but he immediately clenched his teeth and fought back.

Even as Paragons shattered reality above, the battlefield below descended into absolute carnage.

Vlad’s Heaven’s Gate continued relentlessly, controlled by the A.I. Chip.

God weapons rained without pause—impaling devils, tearing bodies apart, reducing entire hordes into fields of mangled corpses. Blood flooded the broken terrain, forming rivers of crimson mixed with shattered bone and fragments of divine constructs.

Merlin and Ankil took the vanguard now. The duo fought with every ounce of power they had, but they could not match the killing power of Overlord and the White Death, and the pressure the Gods put on the forces of the Six Sun Alliance was rising.

The rest of the Lords understood the rising danger and were doing all in their power to control the battlefield.

Altharion’s halberd shone with divine light, clashing against corrupted Angel Gods with explosive force.

Lancel tore through enemies with pure physical might.

Behind them—

Two men unleashed spatial storms that could consume Gods.

A silver-scaled dragon wielding lightning that split battle lines apart

A towering Amazon warlord whose twin axes crushed divine shields

A human swordsman whose blade flickered faster than perception

A shadow-bound assassin striking from blind angles

A flame-wielding berserker who fought while his own body burned apart

They held the flanks.

They bled.

They killed.

But the enemy did not stop.

Devils surged endlessly.

Angel Gods reformed again and again.

The battlefield became a grinder of flesh and power—where victory was measured not in territory, but in survival.

And above it all—

The Paragons continued to tear the world apart.

While unseen eyes still watched.

Waiting.