Across the vast plain, the advisors and grandmasters of the continental alliance deployed their absolute parameters. Their baseline strength was extraordinary, forged through decades of high-stakes campaigns across every corner of the five continents. Their collective battle experience was beyond calculation.

Among them stood Advisor Nurin, a senior grandmaster representing the host continent of Orpris. Armed with his purified spell-staff, he engaged Alumero, a supreme warlord of the 10 Annihilation Demons who wielded the infamous Greatsword of Death. Their collision was apocalyptic. Nurin recognized that his opponent was no ordinary dark operative—Alumero stood merely one step below Lord Demon Shura in raw combat parameters.

Alumero unsheathed his massive, hollow-bladed broadsword, executing a heavy downward chop. Nurin raised his staff, unsealing a localized mana shield to absorb the blow. The kinetic pressure behind Alumero's strike was crushing, forcing Nurin to channel massive volumes of ambient natural mana to reinforce his pathways.

CRACK!

Nurin’s defensive barrier shattered under the sheer weight of the Greatsword of Death. Alumero pushed his advantage, driving his blade forward to split the advisor in two. Nurin braced his staff horizontally, intercepting the dark steel directly.

CLANG!

Though Alumero’s hollow sword radiated volatile dark magic, Nurin’s staff held firm. Crafted from rare, high-density minerals and purified through master-tier spellwork, the staff easily withstood the impact. The two combatants locked arms, their internal parameters grinding against each other in a fierce contest of light and dark aura.

Dense dark magic and incandescent spell-light erupted at the point of contact. Alumero surged forward with dark parameters, while Nurin countered with purified natural energy. The kinetic pressure built to a critical point until both grandmasters simultaneously detonated their aura fields, disengaging to reset their stances.

Alumero leaped backward, raising his Greatsword of Death into a high guard. A long, hollow channel ran through the center of the blade, extending from the hilt to the tip.

This unique design allowed Alumero to link his internal channels directly to the weapon's structural matrix, fusing his dark aura with the steel until sword and wielder operated as a single, unified vessel. To Alumero, the blade was not merely an armament, but an extension of his own soul.

Channelling dark magic through his channels, the hollow channel along his blade blazed with volatile crimson-black aura. Alumero executed a full-body rotational sweep toward Nurin. The hollow blade channeled the dark magic into a dense, rolling wave of kinetic force, amplifying the strike's destruction potential exponentially.

The resulting energy wave expanded as it tore through the atmosphere, accompanied by a deafening sonic boom.

Sensing the lethal parameters within the arc, Nurin planted his staff into the earth, deploying a multi-layered barrier matrix. The heavy dark wave slammed into the glowing shield.

CRACK!

Nurin’s primary barrier fractured under the catastrophic impact. Retreating several paces, Nurin channeled ambient natural mana into his staff, using the concentrated spell-light to cleave Alumero's dark wave in two.

BOOM!

A violent explosion detonated mid-air, scattering energy embers across the sector. Nurin’s expression turned grave. Alumero's hollow blade and dark magic were far more dangerous than he had calculated. It was time to unseal his true, unreserved potential.

Raising his staff toward the heavens, Nurin unsealed his highest-tier spiritual circles, causing white-hot spell-light to erupt from his vessel. He admitted internally that he had underestimated the warlord; Alumero's output far exceeded standard Annihilation Demon benchmarks.

Harmonizing ambient natural mana with his internal channels, Nurin generated a localized parameter storm around his vessel. Sweeping his staff in a wide arc, he extended his left palm forward. Dozens of glowing, golden-white spatial conduits materialized in the air around him, forming a tight floating ring.

Across the field, Alumero recognized that his opponent was charging an absolute spellwork. Refusing to rely on baseline parameters, he raised both hands, holding his hollow sword horizontally before his chest. Volatile dark magic surged from his core, shrouding his physical vessel in a dense, swirling cloud of midnight smoke.

Alumero’s frame vanished within the expanding dark haze. Nurin watched closely, realizing the warlord was initiating the ultimate resort of the dark host: the Demon Transformation.

BLAAAAM!

A catastrophic shockwave detonated from within the dark cloud. The midnight shroud shattered, revealing a massive, horned dreadnought with protruding fangs and thick, furred limbs. His hollow broadsword had expanded into a massive, pitch-black executioner's blade, while from his spine sprouted several thick, bone-armored tendrils that writhed like razor-sharp eels.

It was a hideous, terrifying transformation.

Nurin reinforced his spellcasting matrix, dropping into a high-tier stance to meet the demonized warlord. Against an opponent operating at peak transformation parameters, Nurin prepared to channel the maximum capacity of natural mana his vessel could sustain.

The two grandmasters charged each other, their unleashed parameters generating a roaring tempest that swept across the sector. They collided in a blinding explosion of light and darkness, the kinetic feedback forcing nearby combatants to scatter as they locked in a life-and-death struggle.

Meanwhile, across the broader battlefield...

The tide of war had turned decisively in favor of the alliance. The dark host was being squeezed into a tight perimeter, surrounded on all sides by the combined columns of the five continents.

From his floating throne, Lord Demon Shura observed the shrinking front lines. Though he could not track every individual skirmish across the vast basin, he picked up the rapid convergence of orthodox aura signatures closing in on his central position.

Any moment now... yes, any moment!

This was the exact scenario Shura had anticipated. He remained seated in a relaxed posture, a cold, sinister smirk gracing his features. He felt absolute conviction that victory was already within his grasp. He needed only to pull the final trigger, and the entire global coalition would be forced to their knees, converted into mindless thralls to feed his dark core.

The dark host was pushed deeper into the basin, yet Shura's smirk only widened. He could already taste the grand culmination of his centuries-old ambition.

He recalled the humiliating setback of twenty years ago with deep, burning hatred. Back then, he had been forced to deploy his cosmic-annihilation spellwork prematurely—before his core had fully assimilated the celestial artifact, the Blood Supreme.

The catastrophic output had successfully eliminated the Three Legends, but the backlash had inflicted severe, permanent trauma upon Shura's own vessel. It had taken twenty long years of subterranean slumber to repair his shattered pathways and reconstruct his physical frame—all because the Three Legends had disrupted his assimilation process before it reached completion.

That memory was a stain on his pride. For two decades, he had been reduced to a crippled sovereign, unable to take the field directly, forced to issue commands through his lieutenants from behind the veil. Now, though the Five Gates had fallen in his service, their sacrifices had served their purpose.

The residual parameters of his fallen lieutenants had returned to his core, saturating Shura with unprecedented dark magic. He no longer harbored a single shred of caution regarding the orthodox alliance. No matter how many millions of grandmasters swarmed his position, he could erase them all in a matter of strikes.

Shura's laughter erupted—a cold, echoing roar that caused the surrounding dark operatives to glance up in confusion, having assumed their master was merely reviewing troop movements.

Rising from his floating throne, Lord Demon Shura stepped into the air. He was done waiting. The hour had arrived to execute his absolute revolution over all living mortals across the five continents, reshaping the world into a perpetual, peaceful sanctuary under his absolute reign—a realm free from strife, where every soul bowed to his singular will.

Spreading his arms wide, a towering pillar of pitch-black magic erupted from beneath his boots. It surged from an isolated shadow dimension he had cultivated beneath his physical location—a specialized spatial reservoir designed to hold massive volumes of dark magic until the moment he unsealed the full potential of the Blood Supreme.

The dark magic column roared skyward like a localized midnight typhoon, piercing the upper atmosphere and blocking out the midday sun.

The swirling vortex of dark aura expanded continuously, accompanied by sudden, unnatural strikes of red celestial lightning that shattered the sky above the basin. Shura prepared to unseal his cosmic spellwork, determined to enforce absolute obedience upon the mortal realm.

"Ultimate Black Fist!"

A volatile mixture of corrupted dark magic, celestial lightning, and blood-red aura coiling around his forearms, Shura pulled both elbows back beside his torso, locking his gauntlets in a concentrated execution posture.

He was preparing a catastrophic, wide-area annihilation strike designed to engulf the entire global alliance in a single breath.

Observing the escalating dark parameter from a distance, Aji’s face turned pale. His worst fear was unfolding before his eyes. Positioned miles away behind dense ranks of dark operatives, reaching Shura before he unleashed the catastrophic strike appeared mathematically impossible.

What can be done now?!