CHAPTER 719: THE FINAL BATTLE HAD BEGUN!

In the seven days that followed, the Golden Sky Fortress’s encampment buzzed with energy, excitement, and motion—two distinct epicenters becoming the heart of all activity.

The first was the treasury, where the corpses of Legendary Vorometallicae and other extremely valuable resources were stored and guarded. At its center, a small yellow cat moved tirelessly, surrounded by a complex web of alchemical apparatus, conjuration formations, and potion forges.

The energy Jormungander’s concoctions emitted while crafting potions was so rich and pure that it seemed to seep into the very air. Cultivators who passed by—even briefly—felt their vitality surge and their own energies awaken.

The effect was so potent that many Legends silently began meditating around the treasury, letting the ambient energy mend old wounds and stabilize their bodies and Soul Dimensions in preparation for the monumental battle to come.

The second center of focus was Marshal Maximo’s command tent, where Vlad carved Legendary Runic Formations directly into the flesh of the Legends one by one.

Each warrior who entered the tent emerged hours later, face pale, cold sweat dripping from their brow, their bodies wracked from the agony of the process. Yet none of them complained.

In fact, they all smiled, eyes alight with the thrill of newfound power surging within them. The energy of the runes—burned into their blood, nerves, and bones—made them feel like gods reborn.

The twin forces of Vlad and Jormungandr became the awe of the entire camp. Their power, skill, and mastery over the rare and difficult crafts of Alchemy and Runic Engraving earned them respect even from the High Legends. The feats they performed in those days weren’t just impressive—they were historic.

For seven days, Vlad and Jormungandr gave everything. Whenever their energy waned, they consumed golden ores infused with diluted Origin Force—just enough to completely restore their vitality and stamina. This allowed them to continue working without pause, always maintaining peak efficiency.

Finally, on the dawn of the seventh day, Vlad completed his final engraving.

The last Legend felt his legs unsteady. But his eyes shone with a fierce glint as he bowed deeply to Vlad, overwhelmed by the power of the Demon Cage Runic Formation now woven into his body.

Vlad offered the man a small, tired smile and gestured for him to leave.

"There are still at least ten hours before the battle begins," Vlad thought to himself as he exhaled deeply.

Then, without a second of hesitation, he collapsed onto a cot in the corner of the tent and fell into deep sleep. The golden ores could replenish his energy and restore his stamina—but they couldn’t ease the intense mental strain.

Even for someone as resilient as the True Depravita, carving dozens of Legendary Runic Sets without rest had pushed his spirit to its limits.

Six hours later, Vlad’s eyes snapped open. His mind was clear, his focus razor-sharp. The fog of fatigue had lifted, but more than that—he felt something shift within.

"Boom."

A small, controlled shockwave pulsed through his body, but its origin wasn’t physical. It came from deep within his Soul Dimension.

"Excellent!" Vlad shouted, a rare surge of elation overtaking him. "Draining and replenishing my energy pool over and over again—it caused a breakthrough!"

Without delay, he called out mentally.

"A.I. Chip, scan me!"

The familiar synthetic voice echoed through his consciousness a moment later:

[Beep! Scanning the Host...

Name: Vlad Xaos

Race: True Depravita

Class: Depravita / Demon Soul Hunter

Level (Energy): 21 → 22

Level (Body): 23

Level (Demon Soul Hunter): Legendary Realm

Lineage: Endless Horizon Monarch (Legendary Tier)

Life Level: High Legend Tier

Stats:

Strength: 1.2 → 1.4

Agility: 0.7 → 0.9

Vitality: 2.1 → 2.3

Energy Pool (Depravita Aura): 0.5 → 0.8

Soul Force: 1.2 → 1.4

...

Seal of Sin: Skin of Wrath

...

Demon Soul Ability: Asura Form

...

Racial Skills:

Will of Wrath

Eyes of Wrath

...

Bloodline Ability: Sphere of Spatial Domain

...

Gift: Samsara Typhoon]

Vlad’s energy pool consisted of Depravita Aura—a versatile force that not only powered spells but also served as an elite physical enhancer, far superior to normal Force.

Each decimal increase in his energy pool brought real, tangible growth in physical strength. And while his body had already reached the Legendary Tier, every increase mattered. In the heat of battle, a single point of strength could determine whether he lived or died.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

The progress was unexpected—but extremely welcome.

Then, suddenly, his body tensed.

His eyes narrowed as he sensed a powerful aura approaching from the rear flank of the camp—an aura of High Legendary class.

"Have the Vorometallicae forces already arrived?" Vlad wondered grimly, immediately preparing for confrontation. His muscles coiled like springs, and his senses sharpened.

But then, recognition flickered in his mind.

"Wait... I know this energy." Vlad muttered, surprised. "Elder Damian?"

As the familiar presence grew clearer, he relaxed slightly, though his curiosity deepened. The last time he’d seen Elder Damian, the man had been powerful—but now his aura was something else entirely. Refined. Focused. Stronger.

Vlad didn’t waste another second. He exited the tent and looked up toward the skies.

Descending from above, Elder Damian hovered in the air, eyes scanning the camp. His gaze swept over the tents, the soldiers, the aura of anticipation saturating the air. As he absorbed the palpable determination in the hearts of the men and women below, even the hardened elder couldn’t help but smile briefly.

Then, almost as quickly as it appeared, the smile vanished, and he resumed his usual stoic expression.

With a wave of his hand, dozens of metallic boxes materialized in the sky, suspended with fine control over spatial threads. One box descended gently toward each of the Legendary warriors in the camp.

As the cultivators received their boxes, wide smiles broke across their faces. After offering deep, respectful bows to Elder Damian, who still hovered high in the sky, they opened the containers—revealing the Legendary Demon Souls within.

Without hesitation or ceremony, they began fusing the Demon Souls into their engraved Demon Cage Runic Formations. In the blink of an eye, an overwhelming burst of Abyssal Aura and demonic power erupted from each of them. Their strength surged visibly, their auras rising in explosive waves that painted the sky in flickers of black flame and soul-light.

Vlad could not help but smile as he watched.

While he had been responsible for constructing the Demon Cages, it had fallen to Marshal Maximo to secure the Demon Souls themselves. Judging by the seamless synchronization between each warrior and their demon soul, it was clear Maximo and Elder Damian had succeeded with flawless precision.

Not only had they acquired true Legendary Demon Souls, but every single one of them had been perfectly matched to the warrior who received it. Vlad, whose senses were keen enough to perceive subtle energy fluctuations, could feel how harmoniously the Demon Souls resonated with their hosts. There were no signs of conflict or rejection—only perfect fusion.

Now, every Legendary cultivator in the camp wielded a demon soul within them, giving them a potent and potentially life-saving power. Every one of them... except General Tiberius.

Of course, Tiberius could have requested that Vlad replace his Mark of Cain with a Demon Cage. But given his lingering injuries, the Mark of Cain—designed to drain and absorb vitality from enemies—was far better suited for his current condition.

In truth, there were many among the Legends who would have gladly traded their Demon Cages for the Mark of Cain, but that wasn’t an option.

For one, the Mark of Cain took significantly longer to engrave. The process was more taxing, both physically and energetically. Secondly, the rare resources needed to power the formation were limited. There simply hadn’t been time or material to craft it for all.

Before Vlad could think further, his mind was suddenly cleared as a powerful voice thundered through the camp.

"My soldiers!"

All thought, all calculation, all idle pondering vanished from the minds of the warriors present. The sky darkened as Marshal Maximo rose above the camp. His entire body crackled with cosmic thunder and streaks of demonic, dark lightning.

He didn’t glow—he radiated. His presence was so intense it made him look like a living god, as if he alone held the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"We now stand at the zenith of this death world!" he shouted, his voice booming like a war drum. "Each and every one of you has carved your name into history, written it in blood, engraved it on the corpses of thousands. You’ve endured pain. You’ve overcome despair. And through your will, you have reached this moment."

A deep silence fell across the camp. Every eye was on him.

Maximo paused for a heartbeat, his sharp gaze sweeping across every warrior, every general, every living soul who had made it this far. Then, he raised his sword high into the air and pointed it directly at the cracked walls of the Void Heart Fortress.

"And now, I ask you one final time—burn your will! Burn your blood! Burn your souls!"

His voice roared louder with every word.

"Use that power to shatter those walls and kill the monsters inside! Let the entire universe witness the might of those who fight in the name of the Light!"

A deafening war cry followed—a tidal wave of voices surging like a storm, shaking the earth and sky.

The final battle had begun!