Chapter 888: The end of a Lord
"Freya—TO ME!"
As soon as the True Depravita of Lust heard Vlad’s voice, her eyes blazed with determination and icy resolve. Her form dissolved into a beam of psychic light, streaking across the void with impossible speed along with her rusty sword. In the next instant, the beam of psychic light merged into Vlad’s fourth eye socket, and the Eye of Lust opened upon his forehead.
With that, four Sins now burned across Vlad’s brow: the Eye of Gluttony, the Eye of Greed, the Eye of Envy, and the Eye of Lust. The moment they aligned, a massive qualitative change surged through him.
Vlad was no longer simply fusing traits of other True Depravitas into his form. His Red Sun of Wrath remained supreme, and now it consumed, harmonized, and commanded the other Sins, pushing his existence to an entirely new level of power and enlightenment.
His body began to transform. The serpentine scales that had once armored him fell away, dragon’s horns retracted, the werewolf’s mane of the beast dissolved. In their place arose something wholly new—something so majestic and terrifying that the battlefield itself stilled to watch.
The True Depravita of Wrath became the incarnation of fury perfected—a divine terror wrought into flesh. His body was wreathed in crimson lightning that coursed through his veins like molten rivers, carving cracks across his skin as though his flesh were volcanic stone ready to erupt. Every muscle in his body was honed to perfection, carrying a cosmic level of strength. His skin became more durable than Divine Treasures. Every breath he drew radiated destructive intent, the very air trembling beneath the weight of his wrath and the psychic force emanating from his soul.
His face was cold, unyielding. His eyes did not reflect blind rage but a hatred sharpened, honed, and refined into a weapon. From his back unfurled vast wings—black as the abyss, yet laced with crimson streaks of energy pulsing like veins of cosmic fire. They stretched wide like a judgment pronounced, casting immense shadows across the void.
In his hand now rested Freya’s weapon—the ancient, rusted sword that pulsed with wrath incarnate. In Vlad’s grip, the blade awakened fully, thrumming with unending hunger, demanding storms of destruction. It was no longer just a weapon—it had become an extension of his soul, capable of tearing flesh, spirit, and will alike.
The sight stunned even the mightiest. Overlord paused, eyes sharp. The Royal Guard faltered in awe. Marshal Maximo, the Superior Legends, even the White Death himself—every warrior present felt the crushing weight of Vlad’s new aura. It pressed upon the void like the hand of a primordial god of Wrath.
For an instant, Vlad’s vision blurred as he pushed his existence into this new state. It was not merely an increase in battle power. By fusing four True Depravitas and mastering their Sins, he had ascended higher along the Depravita Path itself. His soul strained, yet he stood ascendant, radiant with annihilation.
The thrill of this form might have swallowed a lesser man, but Vlad was no slave to ecstasy. His eyes sharpened, his battle awareness exploding outward. Without hesitation, he launched forward, his speed shocking. In less than a blink, he caught the fleeing Devil Lord.
Terror and despair flashed across the fiend’s eyes. Already grievously wounded, he had wanted only to escape. But fate was not merciful.
"Damn it!" the Devil Lord roared. He raised his black sword, flames of infernal fire swirling around it. He sought to use Vlad’s momentum against him, to force a desperate clash that might catapult him into the safety of the Zanis Homeworld.
But he faced no wild berserker. He faced wrath distilled into order—fury given shape and control.
Vlad’s mastery over his power was absolute. In the instant before impact, he sidestepped, his body moving with predatory precision. The rusted blade sang, woven with power and killing intent.
"ZNNNNN!"
The fabric of reality itself screamed as the sword struck. The Devil Lord howled as his hands were severed clean at the wrist. Vlad’s swordsmanship was beyond divine, beyond comprehension—a killing art forged by wrath itself.
The fiend’s cry was short-lived. Before his body even recoiled, Vlad’s blade descended once more, severing his neck. The Devil Lord’s head spun free into the void, his body collapsing into lifeless ruin.
Silence spread.
A Lord—one of the rare beings who stood among the highest echelon of the universe—had been slain. Not merely wounded, not sealed, but killed outright. The spectacle filled every heart with shock, awe, and dread. None present would ever forget it. The tale would spread across the Graecia Empire, and from there, across the stars.
Vlad spared no thought for their stares. His space ring glowed as he swept the Devil Lord’s corpse into storage. His eyes were fixed forward.
Pompeyo.
The Patriarch of the Zanis Family still staggered toward the homeworld, his body mangled and aflame, his right arm severed, his stomach torn open. Were he whole, Vlad—even in his current might—would hesitate to face him so close to his world, where the Origin Force would aid him. But now? Pompeyo was prey.
The fusion of four True Depravitas, however, came at a terrible cost. The strain upon Vlad’s soul and body was overwhelming. He could already feel his existence fracturing, cracks spreading through the foundation of his being.
"I can last three more seconds before the damage becomes catastrophic."
The thought burned across his mind with clarity. Three seconds. That was the window. That was all the time he needed.
Without hesitation, Vlad surged forward once more, a blazing comet of wrath, chasing Pompeyo with unstoppable fury.
All eyes from both sides locked upon him. The battlefield itself seemed to hold its breath. Here was no longer merely a man, nor even a Depravita. Here was wrath incarnate—an eternal rebellion against restraint, a primal force overwhelming, all-consuming, and unrelenting.
The True Depravita of Wrath had ascended into something absolute.
He was wrath perfected—inevitable, merciless, and ready to consume Pompeyo.