CHAPTER 840: ATILA’S DEFEAT

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AGGGHHHHHRRR!"

Atila unleashed a ferocious roar of rage and defiance as he slammed his massive, chipped sword into the ground. The weapon sank deep into the cracked earth before a monumental eruption of solar fire surged forth from beneath, generating an explosion that sent scalding flames and molten rock in all directions.

The inferno wasn’t just an expression of brute force—it was a strategic counter. The surging fire incinerated the hundreds of energy swords that had closed in from every side to impale him, negating what should have been a sure-kill blow.

Vlad’s narrowed eyes gleamed with calculated admiration. That level of situational awareness—using the terrain itself to augment an ability—was no trivial feat. It was the sign of a master combatant, someone whose battle instincts were honed over millennia. But admiration had no place on a battlefield.

The True Depravita of Wrath felt his killing intent blaze hotter than ever. The stronger the enemy, the stronger his resolve to destroy them.

Without hesitation, the True Depravita of Wrath dove into the inferno, his form vanishing inside the curtain of fire. The sky quaked as a second explosion erupted within the heart of the blaze. It wasn’t Atila’s—this one was Vlad’s doing. A blast of lightning and raw will burst outward, extinguishing the flames and clearing the smoke within the crater.

Once more, Atila and Vlad found themselves locked in brutal combat. Sparks danced with each collision of blade against blade. Vlad moved like a storm incarnate, taking advantage of his superior physical attributes. Each swing of his sword was a thunderclap, carving vicious wounds across Atila’s battle-worn body. He pushed the fight deeper into the crater, where the enclosed space limited Atila’s mobility, granting Vlad even greater control.

But Atila, despite the bleeding gashes and burned flesh, showed no sign of fear. There was no falter in his eyes, no crack in his will. He parried, dodged, and countered with perfect timing. And then, with calculated precision, he sacrificed a deep cut across his shoulder to land a brutal counter-kick to Vlad’s chest.

The blow staggered Vlad for a moment, less than a second, but that was all Atila needed. The ancient warlord twisted his body and launched himself out of the crater and into the open air.

Vlad recovered in less than a second, already chasing after him into the sky. But before he could close the distance, Atila’s eyes suddenly burned with crimson light. A pulse of psychic energy erupted from his mind, racing like wildfire across the battlefield, reaching every Skeletal Beast and Abomination still engaged with the Xaos forces below.

What followed was a nightmare.

"ARRRHHHHGGGHHHH!"

The twisted creatures howled in agonized unity. Their bodies bulged and contorted grotesquely. Muscle fibers expanded, bones cracked and burst through flesh, and dark ichor sprayed into the air. Their limbs elongated, jaws unhinged, and their forms grew into monstrous parodies of themselves.

Their power surged exponentially. The cost? Their life force. It was clear—they were burning it all away for this final, devastating push.

Fifteen minutes. That’s all the time they had left to exist. But in that brief window, they would be capable of unleashing cataclysmic destruction upon the Xaos forces.

Vlad’s expression darkened.

He could feel the pull of duty clawing at him—to rush down and defend his soldiers, to strike down the abominations and protect the civilians behind the lines. But he knew better. He was not a wandering hero. He was a King. A leader of billions. His priority had to be cutting off the root of the problem—Atila. If he allowed the entity to escape today, the price would be far worse than any temporary losses.

He made his decision in a blink.

Atila watched him carefully. When he realized Vlad wasn’t going to abandon the fight to help his army, a cold sneer twisted his lips. He gripped his sword tighter, then, with a sudden and chilling movement, drove the blade into his own chest.

Vlad’s eyes widened, confusion overtaking him. But before he could act, Atila’s body trembled violently—and exploded. Not in a conventional blast, but in a supernatural dispersal. His form shattered into hundreds of dark, misshapen creatures, each radiating a fragment of his will. They shot out in every direction, faster than most eyes could track.

"Coward’s trick," Vlad growled, raising his sword.

With a single motion, he channeled the Laws of Lightning and Space into his weapon and swung it with divine fury. Blades of crackling lightning arced from the sword in wide, sweeping motions—shredding dozens of the creatures before they could escape. But even with all his speed and power, more than half of them slipped through.

Vlad snarled. He cast one final glance toward the fleeing entities—born from the essence of Atila—and turned back toward the Ice Cube fortress. Time was slipping through his fingers, and his people needed him.

The battle on the ground had taken a desperate turn. The newly empowered Abominations were tearing through Reapers, tanks, and soldiers alike. Their strength, now bordering on monstrous, was enough to overturn even the well-coordinated forces of the Xaos Kingdom.

But then—light.

Vlad appeared high above the fortress, his glowing form casting a blue-and-gold halo over the battlefield. Without hesitation, he raised his blade once more. The sword vanished from his hand—only to reappear a hundredfold, scattered across the sky like divine javelins.

"SHRRRRAKKK!"

Each sword struck with pinpoint accuracy, impaling every Sage-Tier Abomination in sight. Their twisted bodies convulsed before exploding in brilliant arcs of blue light. The Royal Guards, Sages, and Fang lifted their heads and smiled as they watched their strongest enemies die under their King’s blade.

Now free, the elite could descend to the ground and reinforce the ranks. Fang leapt into the chaos, tearing through monstrosities with fang and claw. The Royal Guards dove like comets, cleaving through lines of Abominations to support the flanks. Sages dropped torrents of destruction across the enemy lines.

By eliminating the strongest foes first, Vlad had created a ripple effect—empowering his forces and turning the tide in their favor.

But Vlad was not finished.

He lifted his hand once more, and his blade—still embedded in space—twisted. Dozens more copies surged across the battlefield, slamming into every remaining high-tier enemy like divine spears.