"BOOOOOOOM!"

The sky trembled and twisted as the Longinus Spear and the Singularity Spear collided once more. The clash of the two divine weapons sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield, their power so immense that even Lords would have been torn apart had they ventured too close. A vacuum formed around the point of impact, swallowing sound, light, and energy alike.

Vlad’s eyes were cold and ruthless as he faced Zamael.

The Archangel was undeniably powerful—one of Heaven’s finest—but in truth, the True Depravita of Wrath held the advantage. His strength, honed through endless battle and tempered by his unique bloodline, surpassed that of his opponent.

Yet strength alone was not enough.

Vlad could not find an opening.

He was forced to divide his attention.

There was no way Heaven had sent only two Archangels into the Ninth Layer of Hell. The absence of additional enemies was more alarming than their presence would have been. Hidden threats lingered in the shadows, and among them, one possibility stood above all others.

Lucifer.

The Archangel of Death.

A being whose power could truly endanger both Vlad and the White Death.

Because of that, Vlad could not focus solely on Zamael. His awareness stretched across the entire battlefield, monitoring every fluctuation in space-time, every shift in energy. The strain was immense, placing crushing pressure on his mind and soul.

And it was beginning to take its toll.

The Singularity Spear had already carved deep wounds into his body. Though his Depravita Constitution and mastery over the Law of Life allowed him to continue fighting at full strength, he knew that such endurance had limits.

Time was not on his side.

Vlad narrowed his eyes as he scanned the Ninth Layer once more, searching for any sign of the hidden enemies—but still, he found nothing.

Then Zamael struck again.

Vlad reacted instantly.

Twisting his body, he narrowly avoided the incoming spear before unleashing the full force of his strength. His counterattack landed cleanly, shattering Zamael’s armor and sending the Archangel hurtling across the battlefield.

For a brief moment, Vlad gained a sliver of reprieve.

He glanced toward Overlord.

Their eyes met—and in that instant, they understood each other.

"Retreat!"

The command of the True Depravita of Wrath echoed across the battlefield.

For a moment, the Lords hesitated.

They were exhausted, yes—but far from defeated. There was still power left in their bodies, still strength to push forward. They could have continued fighting for hours, cutting down more Gods and weakening the enemy further.

But Vlad’s command was absolute.

Without question, they obeyed.

The Lords shifted into a defensive formation, covering one another as they began a controlled withdrawal. Every movement was precise, every step calculated to ensure that no one was left behind.

Meanwhile, the White Death and the antimatter doppelgänger continued to hold the line.

Only when the last of the Lords had begun passing through the breach between the Ninth and Eighth Layers did they act.

Their power erupted.

A devastating burst of energy forced Rafael and Beelzebub backward, buying the time needed to disengage. Without hesitation, both Paragons turned and retreated through the opening.

Vlad was the last to leave.

As he moved toward the breach, he felt it.

Presences.

Hidden within the darkness.

Watching.

Waiting.

They were drawing closer.

But then—

His Celestial Eyes flared with overwhelming power.

The unseen enemies froze.

None of them dared to move.

They all remembered.

The terrifying ability of the Xaos King—the portals that could swallow attacks and return them with deadly precision. With the evolution of Vlad’s bloodline, that power had only grown more unpredictable... and far more dangerous.

No one was willing to take that risk.

"Hmph."

Vlad sneered, his gaze filled with disdain.

Then he stepped through the breach.

Back in the Ninth Layer, Beelzebub, Zamael, and Rafael stood motionless, their killing intent burning fiercely—but none of them gave chase.

Here, they held the advantage.

The Origin Power of the Ninth Layer strengthened them, while the endless army of Gods and Devils provided both support and sacrifice.

But beyond this realm?

That advantage vanished.

If they pursued into the Eighth Layer, there was a very real chance it would become their grave.

The three exchanged glances before lowering their weapons.

Silently, the Archangels turned and began their return toward the massive castle that dominated the Ninth Layer—a structure radiating divine authority and absolute control.

The battle had been a success.

They had halted the advance of the Six Sun Alliance.

But it was far from a victory.

They had failed to secure a decisive kill.

And that failure rested on one man.

Vlad.

The True Depravita of Wrath.

Still, they were not without options.

They held more power in reserve—trump cards yet to be revealed. But those could not be used carelessly. They had already witnessed the terrifying adaptability of both Vlad and Overlord.

If they revealed everything and failed to kill them...

The next time they faced each other, the outcome could be very different.

And if they lost control of Hell...

The next battlefield would be Heaven itself.

That was a risk they could not allow.

Beelzebub cast one last glance at the breach before turning to follow the Archangels.

He had barely taken two steps when he felt their gaze upon him.

Zamael and Rafael made no effort to hide their contempt.

Despite fighting within what was once his domain, Beelzebub was not welcome in their inner circle. He was not permitted to enter the castle where decisions were made.

His fists clenched.

Anger burned within him.

They had found him in the void—broken, fleeing, on the verge of death. They had healed him, strengthened him, and brought him back from the brink.

But he felt no gratitude.

He was a Devil.

It was not in his nature.

Only resentment remained.

Still, he was not foolish.

Without them, he would already be dead.

So he said nothing.

With a cold sneer, Beelzebub turned and flew away, leaving the Archangels behind.

Zamael and Rafael paid him no further attention.

Without a word, they vanished into the castle.

Within its walls, the highest echelons of Heaven would decide their next move—how to defend the final bastion of Hell... and how to prepare for the inevitable clash that was yet to come.