Chapter 901: New Master of Sector 53
The clash between the Legends was overwhelming, a storm of raw destruction that made the very skies tremble. Laws of flame, death, space, and wrath clashed in a roaring tempest, splitting clouds and bending reality. The highest sky over Sector 53 blazed with chaos, each strike between titans unleashing torrents of power capable of erasing mountains.
Sector 53 held far more Legends than Sector 76, its armies seasoned and tempered by centuries of blood. Yet the True Depravitas were no ordinary foes. Each of them could stand against multiple Superior Legends, suppressing them with their unique powers and their unnatural regenerative might.
There were also the Nightmare Eye Devils—those once-ordinary lieutenants transformed into Overlord’s aberrant creations—now wielded grotesque strength, their battle power multiplied until each could face two Superior Legends at once and keep the advantage. Thanks to this, the battlefield above was locked in a stalemate, neither side able to gain the upper hand.
The ground war, however, was anything but orderly.
The hundreds of millions of devils who had marched from Sector 76 had no intention of engaging in tactical duels or measured clashes. In their eyes, every devil of Sector 53 was an enemy combatant, from the lowliest wretch to the mightiest Guardians. They butchered indiscriminately, their advance a tidal wave of slaughter. Bodies were torn apart by tooth and claw, blood spilling in rivers that cut through the streets like canals of molten iron. Entire districts were drowned in the crimson tide, as if a dam of damnation had burst.
Above this madness, far beyond the reach of lesser fiends, Zialath and Vlad fought in the highest skies. Their ceaseless duel churned the firmament, birthing thicker and thicker clouds of searing flame and devouring darkness. From the battlefield below, their figures were long lost within that roiling storm.
The Queen of Hellfire frowned as she caught glimpses of the battlefield beneath her. Sector 53 was far closer to the core of the Third Layer, and its Origin Force was stronger, purer, allowing her to raise a grander army. Yet despite this advantage, her forces were being matched, even equaled, by those of Sector 76—a feat that should have been impossible.
"Just where did this man come from?" The thought gnawed at her as her burning gaze locked on Vlad. He had appeared out of nowhere, toppled a Sector Master, and within mere days had raised an army that could rival her own. Such defiance of order was unthinkable, and yet it was happening before her very eyes.
Confusion, however, soon gave way to hunger. Her molten eyes glowed with a covetous light. "If I defeat him and devour his soul, all of his secrets will be mine."
Her killing intent surged like a volcano erupting. Zialath’s flaming wings spread wide, and with a roar she struck, her twin swords flashing forward in piercing arcs that could have hollowed an entire mountain range.
Vlad’s teeth clenched as his dark-flamed blade blurred to meet them, sparks of death-fire colliding with tongues of living flame. Zialath’s technique was terrifying—not only in strength, but in cunning. Each strike was layered with precision, her wisdom honed by countless battles, her feints designed to force him into mistakes. It was like fighting fire itself: overwhelming, unrelenting, and impossible to escape.
Yet even as sweat burned off his body and his arms trembled with effort, Vlad’s Red Sun of Wrath glowed brighter and brighter. The battlefield beneath them was a perfect feast, every scream, every ounce of terror and agony feeding into his core. With every heartbeat, he grew stronger, little by little, enough to hold her at bay.
Their colliding powers turned the clouds into plasma, sheets of burning light and devouring dark that blinded all who gazed upon it. Only the thunderous detonations told the armies below that the duel raged on.
At last, their battle reached its zenith.
Both combatants bore wounds—deep cuts, seared flesh, broken bones. But while Vlad’s body constantly regenerated, his flames knitting flesh and bone anew, Zialath’s injuries remained. The Queen of Hellfire was no fool, however. She did not rage at his recovery. She knew that regeneration required energy, and no ability was endless. Every second that passed drained him further.
"I’ve measured his strength, his speed, his reactions. It’s time."
Her eyes blazed, and suddenly the entire Sector 53 trembled. The Infernal Monolith at its heart pulsed, and a surge of Origin Force flooded into her being. Fire erupted from her soul, her power rising exponentially in a single instant.
With blinding speed she bypassed Vlad’s guard. Her flaming swords tore through the storm, slipping past his defense with surgical precision. A brutal smile curved her lips as both blades plunged forward, one piercing his heart, the other driving through his skull.
"I win," she whispered, her face alight with triumph.
But her smile froze.
For even with brain and heart impaled, the eyes of the True Depravita of Wrath glowed—not with despair, but with unyielding fury. His lips curled into a bloody grin. Before Zialath could even comprehend what was happening, Vlad’s sword rose in both hands, wreathed in darkness and flame. With a roar that split the sky, he swung upward.
The blade cut from her hip to her crown, sundering flesh, bone, and soul alike.
Zialath’s eyes widened, filled with shock and confusion. She had calculated everything, trapped every weakness, yet still she fell. The light faded from her gaze as her body split in two, drifting apart in the ocean of plasma left in their wake.
Vlad staggered, immediately taking out the blades that pierced his chest and head. Agony surged through him, exhaustion pressing down like lead. Even for a True Depravita, such wounds were beyond severe, and it was only the strength of his Red Sun of Wrath that kept him conscious. His body trembled, every nerve screaming, but slowly—painfully—he forced himself to stand.
Minutes passed before his breathing steadied. His sword lowered, his wounds closing one by one, and at last he sheathed his blade.
He raised one hand, pulling Zialath’s bisected corpse toward him as he descended from the ocean of plasma.
A hush fell over the legendary battlefield.
The Queen of Hellfire was dead.
And in her place, the new Master of Sector 53 had arisen.