Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1006: Unexpected arrivals

After Altharion and the other lower Lords of the Alliance engaged the Voroe Lords, the Legends of every realm raised a barrier around them — a titanic wall of energy and divine will. It shimmered like a dome of starlight and shadow, encasing the battlefield within its shimmering depths.

Their purpose was clear and absolute: to keep the hordes of Vorometallicae that infested the Chaovoratities Plane from interfering in the battle of the Lords.

The Vorometallicae were countless — billions of twisted, metallic abominations howling across the scorched plains, a storm of madness and steel with tens of thousands of Legends among them.

Individually, a single Legend posed no threat to a Lord, but if thousands struck at once, their combined might could interrupt their focus. And in this war, a single second of distraction could mean death.

Every soldier, every Legend, every Lord of the Alliance had a role to play — and all of them were prepared to give everything. The battle had no room for hesitation, no space for fear. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

The only one who did not fight at that moment was the being who had made this alliance possible in the first place — the True Depravita of Wrath.

He hovered above the ruined citadel, his body trembling with exhaustion. Though the attack that destroyed the fortress had lasted barely ten seconds, those ten seconds had consumed nearly all of his life force and soul essence. His body felt hollow, his vision blurred, his blood burning like fire beneath his skin.

To remain conscious, Vlad had invoked the power of the Eye of Gluttony. Streams of stolen energy poured into him, devoured from the dying battlefield — life force, mana, even fragments of corrupted souls — anything to refuel his fading strength. He knew he had only moments before the next storm arrived.

And then, the sky above him split apart.

A wave of molten energy rolled across the firmament, and from within that infernal light a figure descended — a monstrous being of flesh and metal fused into a single abominable form. Rivers of magma flowed beneath its skin, and its skull-like face grinned with incandescent hatred.

It was Barbatos, the only Sacred King of the Vorometallicae, who was missing.

He had rushed back from Valhalla the instant he felt the disturbance — and what he found filled even his twisted soul with fury. The devastation was beyond measure; the Chaovoratities Plane itself was cracking apart, its fundamental Laws trembling under the combined might of the invading armies. The Sacred Kings had built their empire on this plane’s stability — and now it was fracturing.

Barbatos’s hollow eyes flared red as they fell upon Vlad. The killing intent that flooded from him was overwhelming, his rage a tangible force that made the air itself shudder.

"YOU!"

He didn’t understand the full details of what had happened — but he didn’t need to. Deep in his core, he knew that everything, every humiliation and ruin, led back to the same man. The same creature who had once cut off his arm and leg and forced him to crawl away in disgrace.

Now, vengeance consumed him entirely.

Barbatos’s energy erupted like a sun going supernova as he dove from the sky, the ground below melting under the sheer pressure of his descent.

Vlad’s wings flared open, dark and blazing with power. He met the descending titan head-on, Soul Blade gripped tightly in his hands, its edge burning with the combined powers of lightning, space, and death — a trinity of annihilation.

The two collided with a detonation that shook the Plane. Time seemed to freeze for a heartbeat before reality itself screamed. The shockwave vaporized clouds and split the crust below into molten rivers.

For a moment, the two forces held each other in deadlock — and then Vlad was hurled backward, sent flying through the air like a comet.

Barbatos roared triumphantly and immediately lunged after him, his claws wreathed in flames so intense they melted space itself. His strike carved a massive pillar of incineration across the horizon.

But the attack never landed.

The Sacred King’s claws phased past Vlad’s head as he activated Quantum Expanse, his ultimate Gift.

"Damn that cursed ability!" Barbatos snarled, his mind boiling with hatred. Even after facing it once before, he could still neither predict nor counter the technique.

Before he could react further, the Soul Blade reappeared — and struck.

The impact was devastating. Barbatos barely managed to raise his arm in defense before he was blasted downward, his massive frame slamming into the ground. The resulting explosion carved a crater hundreds of kilometers wide, magma and debris erupting skyward.

Vlad didn’t pause. He soared high into the sky, his aura erupting once more as he burned every drop of energy he could muster. Gripping the Soul Blade, he drove it into the fabric of space itself — and the world answered.

A colossal embodiment of his blade materialized above him, a sword of pure, blinding energy larger than the Xaos Tower itself. It descended like divine judgment toward the smoking pit where Barbatos had fallen.

Barbatos had just emerged from the rubble when he saw it. His instincts screamed death. Roaring, he raised both arms, burning his energy reserves at a suicidal rate. A torrent of magma and fire erupted upward, colliding with the descending blade.

The clash was apocalyptic. Fire and metal collided, releasing a shockwave so immense that it could be seen from orbit — a light brighter than suns engulfing the sky.

Vlad shielded his eyes, his breath heavy, his heart hammering. He could barely stand the energy pouring from his own creation. For a moment, it seemed over — the Sacred King swallowed by the storm.

But then, a shadow rose behind him.

Barbatos emerged from Vlad’s own shadow, his molten claws slashing forward. Vlad turned just in time — one claw met the Soul Blade, but the other tore across his chest, blasting him through the air.

He nearly coughed blood but forced himself to steady midair. The next instant, a surge of hellfire shot past him, barely missing his head. He twisted aside, wings snapping wide as he darted through the explosion and countered with a vertical slash.

Once again, the two collided.

The sky burned. Space cracked. Mountains turned to vapor.

Vlad’s strikes grew faster, fueled by fury and willpower alone, but Barbatos refused to fall. Both warriors bled light and darkness, each wound only feeding their madness further.

Around them, the other rulers still fought their Sacred Kings — Brightkin, Orkin, Ankil, Merlin — all locked in desperate struggles that shook the heavens themselves.

Barbatos’s hollow grin widened as his molten claws clashed once more with Vlad’s Soul Blade, the impact sending waves of destructive energy rippling through the air. Sparks of plasma and fractured light danced around them, carving scars across the torn sky. His hollow eyes locked onto Vlad’s with a twisted glee, burning with hatred and cruel delight.

"You and all those pitiful insects you brought here will die." His voice thundered like molten metal grinding against stone. "Your strength will fade soon enough. This world will devour you—your energy will dry up, and you’ll grow weaker with every breath you take."

His words dripped with venom, but they carried truth. The Chaovoratities Plane was not a world meant for beings of Light or mortal essence. The air itself was poison.

For Vlad and the others, every second spent here was agony. Their bodies resisted the realm’s rejection, but it drained them all the same. If they failed to finish this quickly, the Plane would exhaust them, and the Vorometallicae would finish the job.

And yet, even as the truth of that curse echoed through the battlefield, Vlad showed no fear.

Instead, a faint, almost mocking smile appeared on his bloodstained lips.

Barbatos’s grin faltered for a brief moment. What reason could the True Depravita of Wrath possibly have to smile now, when his energy was clearly fading, his power barely holding together?

Then he noticed it — the faint flicker of light reflected in Vlad’s eyes.

The Sacred King turned his gaze toward the distance, despite every instinct screaming at him not to look away from an enemy of Lord Tier. It was a dangerous mistake, one that could mean instant death. And yet... curiosity overcame caution.

The very fabric of space began to twist and contort. The sky itself warped into a whirlpool of light and shadow, and a thunderous sound — half scream, half divine hymn — erupted across the heavens.

A massive rift tore open, flooding the battlefield with a blinding radiance and a storm of abyssal energy. From within that storm, three figures emerged — each one radiating power that neared that of the Sacred Kings themselves.

A majestic Archangel, his wings blazing with golden fire, descended like a living sun.

Beside him, two towering Demon Lords rose from the rift, their auras crackling with infernal power and ancient wrath.

The air shook. The world trembled. The very Laws of the Plane seemed to hesitate.

The three beings landed upon the corrupted soil, their powers colliding in a maelstrom of divinity and damnation.

For a heartbeat, the Masters of the Abyss were struck silent, shock and confusion written across their faces.