Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1098: The White Death vs two Devil Paragons

The White Death took a slow, steady breath as the power of Entropy flowed through his body. White flames ignited around him, burning with overwhelming intensity.

The air warped as the fire spread, its heat not merely scorching matter but eroding the very fabric of reality. Space distorted. The ocean below recoiled. Even the storm-wracked sky seemed to hesitate.

He was preparing.

The presences he had sensed were drawing closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Then the ground of the Fourth Layer shattered.

The black waters exploded outward as the ocean floor cracked open like broken glass. From the rupture, a towering figure rose, his aura flooding the surroundings with oppressive force.

Beelzebub had arrived.

The Devil Paragon stood fully restored, his power surging without restraint. Every wound he had suffered during his previous battle with the White Death was gone. His body radiated monstrous vitality, and the distortion of time itself rippled faintly around him.

Yet what troubled the Graecia Emperor was not Beelzebub.

It was the second presence.

The White Death extended his perception further, pushing his senses through layers of space and distortion. He had felt two Paragons ascending through Hell.

But now...

The second aura had vanished.

Hidden.

Suppressed.

Waiting.

That made the situation far more dangerous.

"Hahaha... what are you looking for?" a voice echoed, filled with cruel amusement. "I’m right here!"

Beelzebub appeared instantly in front of him.

His fist shot forward like a meteor, aimed directly at the White Death’s skull.

The White Death’s eyes sharpened. His arm moved on instinct, blocking the punch. But even as their limbs collided, a second attack flashed toward the back of his head—a kick moving faster than perception.

The White Death twisted his body at an impossible angle, barely avoiding the strike.

"Even though I understand his Time Gift... it’s still troublesome."

Beelzebub’s ability allowed him to push his body one second into the future. Each movement left behind a temporal remnant—an afterimage that carried momentum and force. He attacked from the present while the echo of his future action struck an instant later, confusing perception and timing.

The first time the White Death had faced this ability, it had cost him dearly.

Even now, countering it was difficult.

And the worst part was this—

He could not focus entirely on Beelzebub.

Somewhere nearby, another Devil Paragon was hiding, waiting for the moment he committed fully to one battle.

Waiting for an opening.

Waiting to kill him.

Beelzebub and the White Death clashed again, their bodies colliding in a storm of violence. Each exchange shattered the surrounding space. Time flickered. The ocean below split apart. The sky fractured with thunder as shockwaves rippled across the Fourth Layer.

The White Death narrowed his eyes, carefully reading the rhythm of the attacks. He dodged, deflected, endured—

Then he struck.

With a sudden burst of speed, he seized Beelzebub’s wrist.

The Devil Paragon’s expression changed instantly.

Beelzebub could jump forward in time.

But he could not do it while carrying someone else.

The grip locked his ability in place.

White flames surged along the White Death’s arm as he drove a brutal punch into Beelzebub’s abdomen.

The impact twisted the Paragon’s internal organs, folding flesh and bone under catastrophic force.

Beelzebub’s eyes widened.

"What the hell?"

Shock and awe filled the heart of the Devil Paragon. "It’s been less than two years... and his strength—and his control over Entropy—have increased this much? What kind of training did he go through?"

Blood spilled from his mouth.

What Beelzebub did not know was that the White Death had not trained.

Those abilities had been forged during his desperate struggle against the Dream of Madness. By staking his life in a battle against annihilation, he had evolved in a matter of hours what should have taken decades.

Of course, the White Death had no intention of explaining that.

Instead, he pressed the attack.

His fists rained down in a relentless barrage, each strike infused with entropy flames that eroded matter, energy, and structure alike.

Beelzebub retaliated immediately. His punches carried immense physical strength along with temporal distortion. Each impact attempted to slow the White Death’s mind and body, dragging his reactions out of sync.

But there was a difference now.

The White Death’s defenses had evolved as well.

White flames flowed through his flesh and soul, burning away any foreign energy the moment it entered his body.

A gift born from his battle against the Dream of Madness.

There, he had been forced to constantly purge corrupted Empyrean energy before it twisted his existence. Compared to that overwhelming corruption, Beelzebub’s time power was no danger at all.

The battle intensified.

Neither warrior retreated.

The White Death refused to release Beelzebub’s wrist.

Around them, the world began to break.

The sky burned. The ocean boiled. The land beneath the waves fractured into floating shards.

It was a brutal exchange without pause or mercy.

The White Death’s body suffered under the constant impacts. Muscles tore. Bones cracked. Blood flowed freely.

But the damage Beelzebub suffered was worse.

"DEVIL TIME!" the Paragon roared.

Temporal energy exploded outward as he activated another ability. His speed multiplied instantly. For every strike the White Death delivered, Beelzebub now landed five.

The barrage became monstrous.

The White Death felt his body approaching its limits. Pain screamed through every nerve. His vision trembled.

But he endured.

No matter how much damage he took.

No matter how loudly his body begged him to release.

He refused to let go.

White flames gathered around his fists as he continued hammering blows into Beelzebub’s body, trading damage for damage, will against will.

"Damn it! Why won’t you break?!" Beelzebub shouted, fury replacing his earlier confidence.

The White Death said nothing.

Then, as another strike came, he caught Beelzebub’s fist with his free hand.

Both of the Paragon’s arms were now locked.

The White Death’s eyes began to glow.

Entropy flames condensed, compressing into a single, blinding point around his arm.

A powerful ability was about to be unleashed.

Then—

His eyes widened.

His instincts screamed.

A wave of dread crashed over him, cold and absolute.

It was the same sensation he had felt when facing the claws of the Dream of Madness.

Death.

Something had entered his range.

A presence emerged silently from the darkness behind him.

Another figure appeared at his back.