CHAPTER 972: FIRST CHARGE INTO ABYSS

The sky burned.

A crimson sun hung low above a world of ruin, casting a baleful glow over a wasteland that stretched beyond sight. The ground below was a scarred, broken sea of cooled magma and jagged ridges, each fissure bleeding faint rivers of molten rock.

Towers of obsidian and bone jutted upward like the fingers of a dead god, exhaling slow columns of black smoke into the blood-red sky. Across the desolate plains stood forests of twisted, ancient trees—bark like sinew, leaves like blades, and roots that pulsed faintly as though alive with shadow.

The entire realm seethed with decay and torment, a place where even light had turned cruel.

High among the branches, demonic silhouettes crouched in silence. Their bodies were monstrous—horned, winged, and bristling with claws sharp enough to tear apart bears—yet even these predators watched in fear as something greater stirred below.

Across the plains, a legion of demons marched. Ten thousand strong, they moved with rhythm, in complete disorder, showing their chaotic nature, yet still each step shook the ground and each body radiated lethal energy. Their eyes burned with hunger; their fanged mouths curved into smiles of sadistic delight.

They were soldiers of the Abyss—an army summoned by a Lord of Hell to invade a new world. The thought of fresh flesh to rend and souls to devour filled them with a thrill that surpassed even lust.

But as they advanced through a mountain pass, several of the strongest among them halted.

Something was wrong.

A shadow had appeared across the sun.

When they looked up, they saw massive warships cutting through the red sky—vessels forged of black steel and hellfire, wreathed in infernal mist. The aura that rolled off them was unmistakable: the essence of Hell itself.

And that sight ignited a reaction older than memory.

The Abyss and Hell had been enemies since the dawn of creation. Where Hell sought domination, the Abyss sought chaos. Their hatred was primal, absolute.

The demons below roared as one, their collective fury shaking the mountains. Energy surged from their bodies in a tide of malice so dense that the sky itself cracked. Storms of flame and lightning ignited, tearing at the clouds.

Yet the warships above did not waver.

Their gates opened.

And from the firmament descended black-armored soldiers.

They did not wait for landing protocols or atmospheric entry. They dove, streaking through the sky like falling stars, their auras trailing behind them in arcs of crimson and shadow.

The demons screamed. Those with wings soared upward to meet the intruders head-on, while those on the ground hurled curses and projectiles.

The air exploded with chaos.

But before the attacks could reach them, the soldiers’ eyes flared.

Power erupted from their bodies—bloodline energy so immense that even the sky of the Abyss trembled. Their auras collided with the storm, devouring it, twisting it into whirling maelstroms of red and black flame.

The demons hesitated, their instincts screaming in warning. There was not a single enemy among the descending warriors whose strength was below the Sage Realm.

Then came the slaughter.

The black-armored soldiers crashed into the airborne demons like meteors, cutting through them with effortless precision. Flesh, bone, and darkness scattered in all directions. Those still on the ground had no time to react before the first wave struck. Each impact erupted like a comet’s fall, sending shockwaves that reduced entire battalions to ash.

When the last soldier landed, the plains were silent—carpeted with the broken bodies of the Abyssal horde.

Above, the warships began to rise once more, their mission complete. They ascended through the clouds, vanishing into the void from which they came.

The soldiers below watched as their only route of retreat disappeared among the stars. None spoke. None despaired. They knew the plan.

They would not return until their mission was complete.

They were now trapped in a fiendish realm where everything hungered for their death.

And still, there was no fear in their hearts.

Their black armor shimmered under the baleful sun as they turned toward the horizon. Without hesitation, they began to march.

The ground trembled beneath the synchronized rhythm of their advance. They moved like living storms, streaks of shadow and flame crossing the blood-red desert.

Hours later, they found what they sought.

Beyond a jagged ridge lay a vast army of demons—hundreds of thousands strong, stretching across the horizon. It was this host the first horde had been meant to join. The demons turned as one when they sensed the newcomers.

Confusion flickered across their monstrous faces.

The soldiers of Xaos carried the aura of Hell, yet their numbers were small—less than a thousand against legions. And still, they approached without hesitation.

The demon commanders snarled orders. Spells began to form. But before the enemy could finish their preparations, the air above the Xaos formation ignited.

One figure rose higher than the rest.

His armor was forged of blackened gold, etched with molten runes that pulsed like embers in the dark. From his helm streamed a crimson plume, snapping in the sulfurous wind like a banner of blood. His eyes burned with hellish light, fierce and unyielding. In his gauntleted hands he wielded a greatsword—a blade glowing as though carved from the heart of a dying star.

He raised his sword high, and the world seemed to hold its breath.

"Sundering Hell!"

His roar split the air, a sound so immense that even the mountains trembled. His body expanded, armor and flesh fusing into a colossal form that towered over the battlefield, larger than the mountains around them. His sword blazed brighter than the sun, infernal flames spilling from its edge.

Then he struck.

The swing came faster than thought. The ground erupted as his blade tore through reality itself.

The world exploded into fire.

Mountains disintegrated. Rivers of molten rock burst from the earth. The shockwave alone obliterated thousands, while the flames incinerated many more.

Demons screamed—some burned to ash, others crushed beneath the falling debris as boulders rained down like meteors. The sky itself seemed to split, revealing the void beyond.