Chapter 799: Counterattack
Even for the True Depravita of Wrath, facing a High Legend, a coordinated group of elite Legends, and the full power of a fortified prison was pushing the limits of even his immense abilities.
The sheer number of spells and attacks raining down on him only made things worse. Thousands of them unleashed with terrifying precision. While most of the Guardian- and Sage-tier strikes couldn’t seriously injure him, they still posed a very real problem. Each impact, no matter how minor, chipped away at his momentum, slowing his movements and leaving him vulnerable—an unacceptable risk in a battle at the Legendary tier.
Fortunately, Vlad had not come alone.
As every eye remained locked on the white-haired man battling in the sky, thousands of warriors infiltrated the fortress silently, like shadows in the night. And then, chaos erupted.
"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!"
Hundreds of explosions echoed across the stone bastion of Katu Prison. Smoke billowed from shattered towers and burning walls. The warriors of Xaos had arrived, tearing through the Zanis soldiers like wolves in a sheepfold. Their assault was relentless, merciless, and devastating.
The charge was led by five generals, each a destructive force in their own right.
One spun within a cyclone of metal, his massive tornados of blades slicing through armor and stone with equal ease.
Another unleashed spheres of flame from his hands like a living artillery battery, each blast creating mushroom clouds of fire.
A third, resembling a winged elf, fired Sage-tier arrows by the dozen every second, each bolt seeking hearts and heads with inhuman precision.
The fourth carried a broadsword that felt like the weight of a mountain itself, every swing collapsing enemy lines with earth-shaking force.
And the last—a woman wreathed in shadow—moved like a phantom, flickering across the battlefield with blinding speed. Her twin daggers ended lives before their owners even registered her presence.
The combination of their overwhelming power and the element of surprise shattered the Zanis formations. What was once a disciplined military force of fifty thousand soldiers was now a disoriented mass.
The front lines collapsed.
Carnage spread like wildfire.
Augustus and the rest of the Legends hovering in the sky were momentarily paralyzed with disbelief as they witnessed their forces being slaughtered below. The Xaos soldiers didn’t just fight—they moved as one, a perfectly coordinated swarm. It was as if they shared a single mind, a unified will, an unstoppable momentum driven by fanatical determination.
Even the battle-hardened soldiers of Zanis—veterans of countless campaigns across Exilon—couldn’t match that level of coordination and resolve.
And worst of all, the Legends in the sky couldn’t afford to help.
If even one of them broke formation and descended to protect their troops, they would open a gap in their encirclement—an opening Vlad would no doubt exploit to its fullest.
"Damn it! Kill him fast!" Augustus roared, his voice booming across the battlefield.
He dove at Vlad once more, spear glowing with lightning and shuddering under the weight of the earth. His speed split the clouds, and his aura turned the air to plasma.
But Vlad simply smiled.
It was working.
As long as their attention remained solely on him, the mission had a chance.
Without hesitation, Vlad assumed a new stance. He inhaled sharply, centered his energy, and met the High Legend’s diving strike.
The collision of spear and sword should have unleashed another deafening shockwave—but something different happened.
As Vlad’s sword connected with Augustus’ spear, the power of space warped around the blade, reshaping the strike’s trajectory in real time. The tip of the spear veered away from Vlad’s body, redirected by microscopic spatial folds.
The full might of Augustus’ dive missed its mark—entirely.
He was stunned. Not just by the counter, but by the control, the precision, the mastery it implied. Vlad had turned his own power against him.
Worse still, the spear was now hurtling toward Augustus’ own allies.
With all his strength, the High Legend contorted his body, halting the momentum of the redirected strike just in time. His comrades exhaled in relief. But their reprieve was short-lived.
The sky darkened.
A massive storm of spatial energy, laced with crackling lightning, exploded outward from Vlad’s position. The wave surged in all directions, engulfing Augustus and two nearby Legends.
It was not a killing blow, but it was more than enough to hinder them for several precious seconds.
And that was all he needed.
Vlad’s gaze shifted to his true target—Warden Felix, the master of the prison fortress.
A cold, predatory smile crept onto his face.
Felix felt it immediately.
That look.
That power.
He had faced monsters. He had slain Legendary demons, fought devils born of darkness, and commanded armies through campaigns that stained the earth red. But nothing had prepared him for the feeling of being seen by Vlad.
It was like being locked inside a dimension of pure wrath—where sanity dissolved, and only violence remained.
Before Felix could overcome the creeping horror spreading through his body, Vlad was already there.
Too fast.
Too close.
Too lethal.
Vlad’s sword pierced the warden’s abdomen, slicing through flesh, muscle, and the base of his spine. Blood poured from Felix’s mouth in a choking gush as lightning surged through his torso, frying his nerves and organs.
He tried to react.
To think.
But Vlad placed a hand against the side of his head, and his eyes began to glow.
Psychic power surged forth like a tidal wave, entering Felix’s mind, twisting his soul inwards until his Soul Dimension collapsed. His thoughts froze. His consciousness sealed.
Wasting no time, Vlad encased the warden’s body in a cocoon of Depravita Aura, anchoring it to his back.
And not a heartbeat too soon.
He turned and slashed his weapon through the air, warping the fabric of space itself to form a shimmering force field around his body—just as a tornado of fire slammed into him from above.
The spatial force field had been erected in haste, a rushed defense against overwhelming odds. As a result, it failed to fully withstand the might of the oncoming tornado of fire.
The blazing vortex crashed directly into the True Depravita of Wrath, its searing flames engulfing his chest and scorching the flesh beneath his armor. Smoke curled from his skin, and the air around him shimmered with the residual heat.
If that weren’t enough, before the fire could even disperse, a massive shield came barreling into Vlad’s body like a meteor. The impact sent him hurtling through the sky, flung hundreds of meters in a blur of pain and motion. Before he could stabilize, two swords flashed toward his neck, gleaming with killing intent, while a spear darted directly for his heart.
Vlad summoned every ounce of strength he could muster, forcing his body to react even while it twisted through the air. With practiced precision, he managed to parry the spear using his sword and evade one of the incoming blades. But he couldn’t dodge them all.
The final sword sliced across the side of his neck, leaving a deep gash that spilled blood into the air.
Snarling, Vlad channeled the momentum of the clashing weapons. He used the rebound of the spear strike to propel himself backward, creating precious distance between himself and the relentless trio of attackers. But even as he pushed off, Augustus and the other Legends surged forward again, relentless in their pursuit.
Though Vlad had successfully sealed Warden Felix, it had come at a high cost. The momentum of the battle had shifted. Augustus and his team now controlled the pace, and regaining dominance in such a high-speed, high-stakes clash would not be easy—not even for someone like Vlad.
Things were not going well on the ground either.
The initial surprise attack by the Xaos soldiers had been devastating. Their sudden infiltration and explosive strikes had carved a bloody path through the fortress, killing thousands of Zanis warriors in mere moments. For a brief, glorious window, Xaos held the upper hand. The chaos had worked in their favor.
But such an advantage could not last forever.
Despite being caught off guard, the Zanis soldiers were no mere rabble. Their training, though perhaps not as specialized as the Xaos warriors, was still of an extremely high standard. Hardened by years of conflict and discipline, they were quick to recover. Once the shock wore off, they began to regroup. Formations reassembled. Lines were redrawn. Orders were shouted, ranks reorganized.
And the counterattack began.
Though their morale had taken a hit, their sheer numbers could not be denied. Fifty thousand Zanis soldiers against fewer than four thousand from Xaos—a ten-to-one numerical advantage. Even with superior coordination and battle instincts, Xaos could not match that level of pressure indefinitely. Slowly but steadily, the tide began to turn once more—this time against them.
Control over the battlefield started slipping from Xaos’ grasp. The chaos that once empowered them now worked against them as they were pressed from all sides, their flanks threatened and their momentum slowed.