CHAPTER 358: CHAPTER 357 - REACHING THE PEAK.

Back in the forest close to Velmoria.

The demon’s rage turned into power as its dragon-sized body convulsed, shrinking with sickening cracks of bone and hisses of steam.

Flesh folded in on itself, wings vanishing into its back, and horns retracting like broken spears.

By the time the flames cleared, what stood in the crater was a man-shaped figure, obsidian skin streaked with molten lines, its size human... but its pressure was far beyond what it had been at full bulk.

Air buckled around it. Gravity howled like an invisible storm.

The demon flexed its clawed fingers, voicing a guttural rumble that shook the wasteland.

"This power... I can only use it once a month. It burns my life to—"

Before it could complete its words—

"Blah blah blah!" Crisaius barked, already charging, twin spirit blades crackling with black thunder. "A wise man, or a boy, once said villains die monologuing, so let’s hurry your funeral, huh?!"

Argon was a crimson blur beside him, his black-silver sword trailing sparks, space itself bending with his every step.

They already knew that the demon was stronger than ever, so they didn’t have time to waste or give the demon enough time to turn the tables.

They needed to finish this fight before it got the chance to display its power—before it could even prepare for their attack.

But before their strikes could land—

—The demon was gone.

The place it stood an instant ago was nothing but a blur left.

Crisaius blinked, his grin freezing. Argon’s instincts flared too late.

A presence stood between them.

Two hands slammed onto their skulls.

"Wha—?!"

BOOOOOOOM!

Their faces met the earth, smashing through stone like dropped meteors. Dust geysered up as the demon’s mocking laughter spilled through the air.

"I am not the strongest of the tyrants," it said coolly, its obsidian eyes glowing. "But I am of high rank. In my blood runs the mark of a Demon King. And my talent... has always been speed. So fast that no one my age has ever stopped me."

Crisaius’s muffled voice came from the dirt. "...Congrats. Real inspiring resume."

His arm shot up, clawing around the demon’s leg.

The monster sneered. "Begging?"

Crisaius lifted his head, dirt caked on his grin. "Nah. Just keeping you still so that the kid can play."

The ground shuddered—Argon’s fist slammed down, and gravity multiplied tenfold.

The air screamed as the demon’s knees buckled. Its skin cracked, obsidian shards peeling from the pressure.

Crisaius’s eyes flared as he readied his time freeze—

—But the demon’s form blurred, vanishing.

It reappeared a hundred meters away, voice taunting, "This... is what speed means."

The old man and Argon, on the other hand, were already on the move.

"Then catch this!" Crisaius roared, surging forward. His spirit blades blazed with black thunder, the arcs jagged as storm-wrath.

Argon matched his pace, his greatsword in one hand, compressed space spinning in the other like a writhing singularity.

"Fast or not," Crisaius shouted, his voice manic, "you’re the one on a time limit, not us!"

The demon paused for a second as the truth behind Crisaius’s words hit harder than it should’ve.

After all, it realized how it could never defeat Crisaius and Argon together if the fight continued.

One of them was already annoying enough, but now, it had to deal with both of them, and worst of all, they had space and time elements—the last thing one would want to face.

The demon snarled, teeth grinding, fury sparking like fire. Its silhouette flickered—then vanished again.

This time, it was behind Crisaius.

In its palm, a swirling mass of black-red fire, compressed into a burning sphere of annihilation.

If it couldn’t take them out together, then it would take them out one by one.

The moment the demon appeared behind Crisaius, the old man’s grin faltered—

—But that instant of visibility was all Argon needed.

He twisted, thrusting his own ball of compressed space forward.

The world warped.

The demon’s eyes widened, its form jerking as it tried to pivot—too late.

Its right arm exploded into nothingness.

Chunks of obsidian flesh rained down as the beast staggered, clutching the stump, molten fury hissing out like steam.

It was already standing some distance away, but it was injured.

Of course, the injury would heal, but what mattered right now wasn’t the damage but the fact that the demon was injured.

After all, if they could reach it once, they could reach it again.

Crisaius pushed off the dirt, cackling. "Good boy! See, I knew tutoring you would pay off one day!"

The demon, on the other hand, gawked, its voice trembling, "How...?"

"Class in session!" Crisaius barked, twirling a random stick like a professor’s pointer. He even shoved spectacles onto his face out of nowhere. "You’re fast. Too fast for us to track. But that speed’s sloppy—your senses can’t keep up. To hit us, you have to slow down, and that, my flaming friend, is when you die!"

He jabbed the stick in the demon’s direction. "And since you always go for our blind spots, the kid and I just watched each other’s backs. Teamwork 101!"

Argon said nothing, but his silent nod made the point.

The demon closed its eyes and steadied its breathing. Its expression... softened.

Argon frowned. Crisaius’s grin faltered.

The monster’s lips curled faintly as it nodded. "Correct."

It jumped once on the spot, the ground splintering beneath it. "But did you know...?"

The world cracked.

Where Argon stood—suddenly, the demon.

And Argon?

BOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!

A comet of blood and steel hurtling through the plain, smashing through ridges, detonating boulders as his body skipped like a ragdoll across the wasteland.

The demon’s torso was torn open, ribs snapping under the suicidal collision, but its body healed even as it spoke.

"If I am too fast to control..." Its grin widened, obsidian teeth gleaming. "...then my body itself becomes a weapon!"

The battlefield went silent.

Crisaius’s laughter died in his throat. His eyes widened, for once without a joke to follow.

And above the smoking ruin where Argon had vanished, the sky itself trembled—

—Because the fight was reaching an end, and the victor would be decided in the next few moments.

But while these god-like beings clashed in the forest, elsewhere in the Ashen Expanse, another storm was reaching its peak.

It was the fight between Raven and the black dragon that was happening in the Ashen Expanse.

Yet right now, they weren’t fighting. Both Raven and the dragon were busy with something.

The black dragon kept staring at Raven and Graye hugging each other, and although it wanted nothing more than to kill those two, it was too deep into its thoughts to care about them.

After all, its attack that contained its divinity—one that it had gained by slaying everything that came close to it—couldn’t kill a human who had yet to cross the tenth level.

’Death is inevitable... so how?’

It couldn’t get an answer to that question, no matter how hard it tried.

Not once did it think that a human with a power level so low could have a divine tale, but other than that, there was no other justification.

But before it could think too deeply about it, the dragon noticed something—Raven was whispering something to Graye.

The dragon frowned, its gaze narrowing as it decided to end this farce now, and although it was still a bit shaken because its absolute death authority was stopped, it chose to go about it another way.

It was going to make the fight physical.

The black dragon’s wings twitched, shadows rippling like thunderclouds across the fractured Expanse. Its molten eyes narrowed as it decided—enough of this. The boy and the girl would die first.

But before it could lunge, Raven’s gaze, sharp as a blade, caught the twitch of intent.

And as if he were waiting for this moment, he moved instantly.

BOOM!

His feet smashed into the cracked earth, detonating the ground beneath him. Shards of stone and plumes of dust erupted in a storm, cloaking him and Graye in a thick haze.

The dragon’s pupils slit tighter, the sound of grinding earth ringing in its ears.

"Do you think dust will save you, human?" It growled, voice rumbling like a mountain’s heart.

Its gaze shifted away, lips curling into a cruel grin. "No matter. I’ll take the last part-dragon instead. Once I devour it, I’ll regain my true body—complete, stronger, eternal."

The dragon turned, wings stretching wide as if ready to move away.

After all, it was more profitable for the dragon to eat the last part-dragon. But before it could fly off—

Riiiiiiip—!

The dust cloud behind it rippled. Out of the haze lunged a colossal dragon’s maw, fangs glinting like volcanic blades, snapping toward its neck.

The black dragon twisted in alarm, its fist surging forward with divine weight. Its punch slammed against scaled bone—

CLANG!

—But instead of hitting the jaws, its knuckles met a claw, sparks erupting.

The newcomer’s grip held fast. Then, with a violent wrench, the newcomer’s jaws tore into the black dragon’s wing.

KRSHHHHHHHH!

Blood and fire splattered across the wasteland as the wing was ripped free, veins of shadow bursting like ruptured rivers.

The black dragon shrieked, its roar splitting sky and stone alike.

The new beast stepped from the storm.

Its body was black, yes—but streaked with lava-red cracks that pulsed with molten fury. Its abdomen glowed like a furnace. Its horns, its jagged back-spikes, even the ridges of its wings gleamed red-hot, as if the Expanse’s molten rivers had forged it.

A dragon of flame and destruction.

Raven.

The black-red titan spat the torn wing from its jaws, embers trailing the dripping mess. Its voice rumbled, deep and sardonic.

"Even your flesh tastes like shit."

From atop his back, Graye’s voice rang out, incredulous. "Wait—how do you know what shit tastes like?!"

Raven, in his dragon form, had his molten eyes narrowed, his expression deadpan. "...No friendly fire, Graye."

The air shuddered between them, ash falling like black snow, as two dragons faced each other—one ancient, one newly born—and the Expanse itself seemed too small to hold what was about to come.