CHAPTER 862: DEPRAVITA MOON

The True Depravita of Wrath had completely lost the ability to resist. His body was melting, fusing with the nightmare realm of broken bodies and tormented souls surrounding him. The corruption did not stop with his flesh—it pressed deeper. The twisted reality extended its claws into his very Soul Dimension, reaching past the physical into his spirit, his mind, and the core of his ego.

It sought to consume everything that marked the True Depravita’s existence, to assimilate him as part of his external existence.

"Yes... yes!"

The voice was ecstatic, trembling with thrill and excitement as it felt itself how the True Depravita of Wrath was closer and closer to becoming an eternal resident of the nightmare universe.

"Ten thousand years of sleep are nothing compared to this. When I awaken fully, I will wear this body as my own. I will roam the universe—free, unbound—"

It paused, and for a fleeting instant, something like longing entered its tone.

"We can finally return home."

The tendrils of the nightmare universe expanded deeper and deeper into Vlad’s essence, drinking in his being with ever-growing hunger. Piece by piece, they consumed everything—until only a single point remained.

It was small, no larger than an apple, yet it radiated a weight that felt infinite. An obsidian-and-platinum star burned at the very center of Vlad’s soul. Even in this abyss, its light refused to dim.

The entity trembled with excitement. Here was the prize—the core essence of the True Depravita of Wrath. This was the key to flawlessly imitating him, the final step in crafting a perfect True Depravita body.

Without hesitation, the nightmare latched its tendrils onto the star.

And instantly, it knew it had made a mistake.

"ZNNNNNNN!"

The star did not yield. It did not allow itself to be assimilated. Instead, it began to spin—slowly at first, then faster and faster. The tendril, instead of consuming, was pulled inward, dragged like prey into the maw of a ravenous predator.

"What... what is happening!?"

For the first time, shock—no, fear—entered the voice of the nightmare. This was a being of unfathomable age, a living apocalypse, and yet here it was, caught in something it could not control.

The spinning star devoured its essence with the hunger of a beast starved for countless years, finally finding a meal worthy of its appetite.

"What is the meaning of this!?"

It tried to sever the connection, to pull away—but the star refused to release its catch. The pull only grew stronger, the spinning faster, the hunger more insatiable.

And then, from deep within that obsidian-and-platinum light, a laugh rose.

"Hahahahahaha..."

It was Vlad’s voice—the unyielding, burning wrath of the True Depravita himself.

While his body, his soul-dimension, and nearly every other fragment of himself had been devoured, for a True Depravita, their true self resided elsewhere. Their will, their soul, their essence—all were held within the Depravita Star.

Even if all else was gone, as long as the Star endured, so would he.

"I must thank you," Vlad said, his voice low but carrying an edge sharp enough to cut worlds. "Evolving my Depravita Star was... difficult. It feeds on negative and dark psychic energy, but even in a world war, what I gathered was far from enough."

The star’s spin quickened, drawing in more of the nightmare’s essence.

"But you..." his tone darkened into a growl, "...you are a universe, remember? That’s what you kept boasting. You have no idea how much you’ve just given me."

The voice of the nightmare roared back, furious. "Hmph! Do not look down on me, insignificant boy!"

Power surged in the realm, and Vlad felt it—the nightmare was beginning to tear itself free from the Star’s pull, forcing the connection to break. If it succeeded, it would unleash all its power to crush the Star into dust.

Vlad’s mind raced. If the link was broken now, it was over. He needed more—more strength, more power—now.

And then, he saw them.

The faces. The countless faces of tormented souls that made up the realm. Faces locked in agony, trapped in an eternity of suffering.

He made his choice.

"If you seek release... if you want the pain to end... if you want to leave this hell—flow into me!"

His voice thundered through the nightmare realm, a call that rippled through the darkness. For a heartbeat, everything froze.

Then, the faces began to tremble.

And they moved.

One after another, they broke away from the nightmare’s grasp, surging toward the Star like dying souls rushing toward the gates of Heaven. They did not think—they could not. They acted on pure instinct, drawn to the one chance they had for salvation... or at least an end.

"What!? How dare you!?"

The nightmare’s voice shook with rage. These souls were part of its very being. They were not meant to resist its will, not even to form their own thoughts. But now, they ignored its commands entirely.

It tried to stop them, but there were too many.

The tide became unstoppable.

The Star swelled. The steady point of light became a blazing orb, growing larger and larger until it expanded into the size of a moon.

"Depravita Moon."

Vlad’s voice trembled—not with fear, but with exhilaration. He had done it. He had reached the next stage of Depravita Evolution.

The Depravita Moon was the equivalent of a High Legend in the Level System, but in truth, it was far more. It was the ascension of his core self into a form that no mortal measure could truly quantify.

Yet, there was no time to savor it.

The moon of obsidian and silver spun faster and faster, its pull now a force of nature.

"Do you really think this is over!?" the nightmare roared, its voice shaking the realm. "Do you really think you can defeat me!?"

Its tone was no longer mocking. It was deadly serious. This was no longer a predator toying with prey—this was a wounded beast ready to fight for its life.