CHAPTER 958: VLAD’S NEW POWER

"This is my limit."

The True Depravita of Wrath spoke the words softly, yet they resonated through the void like thunder. His body trembled, his soul quivered, and even his Depravita Sun flickered with strain. He knew that no matter how deep his will ran, no matter how unyielding his determination, his flesh and spirit could not push another inch toward the nebula.

It was not a failure of resolve; it was simply the truth—objective reality asserting its boundary.

And yet, instead of despair, a faint smile touched his lips.

Vlad lifted his gaze toward the distant figures of the other True Depravitas and whispered, "Luckily... I am not alone."

The words echoed across the battlefield of stars.

At that instant, Jormungandr, Freya, Fafnir, and Ouroboros—each of them having already reached their own limits—felt Vlad’s psychic call pierce their minds. Without hesitation, they answered.

Their bodies dissolved into streams of psychic energy, coiling through the void like rivers of living flame before converging into Vlad’s soul. The moment their essences fused with his, four new eyes flared open upon his forehead—each burning with a different hue, green, golden, violet, and purple.

Power exploded outward.

Vlad’s form began to transform. Wings of incandescent energy erupted from his back, each feather a blade of molten plasma. His veins glowed red, rivers of power coursing through his body, reforging flesh and spirit alike. The fusion of five True Depravitas was not merely an addition of strength—it was an ascension, a convergence of wrath, gluttony, envy, lust, and greed into a single being.

With this newfound might, Vlad moved forward.

The radiation of the nebula tore at him like a hurricane made of molten suns. His skin cracked and melted, his bones screamed, his immortal constitution pushed beyond even its limits. Every step he took left behind vaporized trails of blood and energy.

But he endured.

He healed as fast as he was torn apart, pushing his regeneration to the brink of madness. Each meter forward was agony incarnate. Each breath was a battle for existence. Yet the True Depravita of Wrath knew no retreat.

All across the void, silence fell. The soldiers of the Graecia Empire, the warriors of the Xaos Kingdom, and even the White Death held their breath. None dared to speak.

They watched as their Hero of War moved forward, slowly, relentlessly, like a god of defiance challenging creation itself. Even the White Death, standing far behind, found himself frozen with awe. His sharp eyes followed Vlad’s burning figure.

"Could he actually reach the singularity? And if he did... what would happen then?" There was curiosity and interest in the eyes of the Graecia Emperor as he really wanted to know what would happen next.

Minutes bled into hours. Half a day passed.

And then, against all odds, Vlad crossed the threshold where even Overlord had been forced to halt and advanced farther.

Fifty kilometers was all that separated him from the surface of the nebula.

The light there was unbearable, an ocean of radiance that melted everything it touched. The energy waves battered him mercilessly, scorching his organs and tearing at his soul. But he clenched his fists, ground his teeth, and pushed forward.

Meter by meter.

Step by step.

Wrath incarnate refused to bow.

Finally, at the very edge of what even his transcendent form could endure, Vlad stood before the nebula.

His eyes burned with purpose—pure, unbreakable will. He took one final breath, then plunged both hands into the surface of the singularity.

"BOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMM!"

The void itself convulsed.

A massive explosion of energy erupted from Vlad’s body, spreading in all directions. Waves upon waves of cosmic force and psychic might surged outward, creating a breathtaking display of color and destruction. It was as though a dark aurora had come alive—ribbons of black, violet, and crimson weaving across the void like a living tapestry.

Unlike the brilliant purity of the White Death’s white flames, Vlad’s energy was chaotic, dark, and primal. Where Alexandro had mastered the Law of Entropy, Vlad embodied the Law of Space.

The nebula responded in kind. Its light pulsed and shimmered, interacting with Vlad’s power like an instrument answering its player.

This was no simple infusion of strength. The nebula did not bestow—it awakened. It reached into the deepest parts of the soul, drawing out whatever truth lay buried within.

The warriors of the Graecia Empire and the Xaos Kingdom could only watch in silence, their eyes wide with awe and fear. What kind of power could be born from a fusion of Depravitas touching a dying star’s singularity?

The black aurora blazed brighter, then began to fade. Its energy, no longer raging outward, flowed back toward Vlad, spiraling into his body. His form stood motionless at the heart of the storm, his wings spread wide, his expression unreadable.

Time seemed to freeze.

Whispers spread among the watching armies. Had he failed? Had he ascended? Or had the singularity devoured him entirely?

Then, those with sharper perception began to exchange uneasy glances. They noticed something subtle, something impossibly strange.

The radiation emanating from the nebula... was passing through Vlad.

Not striking him. Not burning him. Simply moving through him as if he no longer existed within the same dimension.

The whispers grew louder. Eyes turned to the White Death, who stood watching with his usual calm intensity.

When he met their questioning gazes, he nodded.

"You are not mistaken," he said quietly. "The radiation waves are no longer touching him."

A collective gasp spread through the crowd. The energy pouring from the nebula possessed power that could vaporize even a Lord, yet Vlad’s body ignored it completely—as if reality itself had agreed to leave him untouched.

If such power could extend beyond this place, then could he not become invincible?

As the realization spread, Vlad’s eyes fluttered open.

A wide, radiant smile spread across his face, his gaze gleaming with childlike wonder and exhilaration. The cosmic light danced across his skin, yet did not harm him. It passed through, harmlessly.

"It’s as if..." he murmured, "my body exists in a different reality."

He lifted a hand, watching the light phase through his fingers like smoke through glass.

"Quantum Expanse."

The name alone carried weight, and the moment he spoke it, a pulse of energy rippled through the void. The term resonated in every soul present, etching itself into memory.

A long time ago, Vlad had studied an ancient cultivation technique said to allow the user to phase through attacks—to exist between moments, to dance between atoms. He had failed to master it. Back then, he thought it was because he lacked the talent. Later, after his understanding of the Law of Space deepened, he realized the grim truth: the technique was flawed. Theoretically possible, but structurally impossible.

He had long mourned that failure.

Now, standing before the heart of a dead world, Vlad realized the universe had given him that power—and more.

The nebula had not merely granted him strength. It had rewritten his relationship with space.

He took a deep breath.

And then, a new eye opened on his forehead—right between his Sinful Eyes. This one was unlike the others. Its iris was black, ringed with violet spirals that pulsed like miniature galaxies.

The moment it opened, space folded.

Vlad’s entire body shimmered, then dissolved into streaks of color before vanishing completely.