Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1071: Sovereigns vs Devil Lords

Brightkin, Orkin, Ankil, and Merlin dove toward the Devil Lords without a single ounce of fear or hesitation.

The moment their bodies crossed the threshold of the shattered city, the power within them erupted. Lord-tier bloodlines roared awake inside their souls, ancient and violent, responding to the infernal pressure of the Second Layer.

Energy burned through their veins like molten gold, every breath igniting the gains they had earned through years of relentless slaughter in the First Layer of Hell.

And they were not alone.

Behind them, the Legends and Sages of the Six Sun Alliance poured into the ruined city like a tidal wave. Thousands upon thousands descended from the sky, their killing intent blazing, their souls hardened by survival in Hell’s crucible. Every one of them carried scars, triumphs, and blood-soaked breakthroughs.

Hell was unforgiving.

A single mistake could cost a life.

Yet it was also the greatest crucible any warrior could hope for.

Within Hell, their growth was terrifyingly fast. Though they could not harvest Devil bodies, they claimed space rings, artifacts, soul crystals, and vast stores of wealth. With both talent and resources in abundance, their power rose at a shocking pace. Several Superior Legends could already glimpse the threshold of the Lord Tier, their foundations trembling under the pressure of imminent ascension.

That knowledge drove them forward.

They fought with everything they had—with desperation, hunger, and absolute resolve.

Only one figure did not move.

High above the battlefield, the White Death remained motionless.

He hovered in the sky, his white hair drifting softly in the corrupted wind, his presence calm and terrifying. He did not need to descend. Everyone knew why.

When the White Death moved, entire layers of Hell trembled.

When he fought, it would be against beings whose deaths would rewrite the balance of power itself.

Respect followed him like a shadow.

Then the city exploded into chaos.

"BOOOOOOOOOOM!"

"BOOM!"

"BOOOOOM!"

Explosions echoed across the shattered metropolis, ripping through streets and towers alike. Nowhere was the devastation greater than at the heart of the city, where Sovereigns and Devil Lords clashed in a storm of divine and infernal power.

Overlord stood amid the inferno.

In his left hand, Durendal gleamed with divine power. In his right, Excalibur roared with authority. Yellow lightning wrapped around both blades, arcing between them as if the weapons themselves were alive, resonating with the Archangel-forged body that wielded them.

Before him stood Sathrael, the Crimson Arbiter, and Morvane the Pallid.

Sathrael’s infernal blade dripped with execution, its edge vibrating with the judgment of Hell itself. Morvane’s rusted chains writhed like living serpents, radiating a cold so profound it froze light and sound.

Both Devil Lords were monstrously powerful.

But now, Overlord faced only two.

And that made all the difference.

Morvane struck first.

His chains descended from above, weaving together into a massive net designed to bind body, soul, and law simultaneously. Absolute cold surged outward, attempting to immobilize Overlord before Sathrael could deliver the killing blow.

Overlord reacted instantly.

Excalibur flashed.

With a single horizontal swing, divine lightning exploded outward, shattering the chain-net into fragments of frozen metal that disintegrated before touching the ground. Overlord pivoted mid-motion, Durendal rising just in time to intercept Sathrael’s infernal blade.

The clash rang like the collision of worlds.

Sathrael’s eyes widened.

For the first time, doubt flickered across the Devil Lord’s face.

He could feel it.

Overlord’s defense—his raw physical resilience—had increased drastically.

Sathrael did not understand how the True Depravita of Pride’s defenses raised so much, and Overlord would not explain.

A ferocious kick bathed in yellow lightning slammed into his chest.

Bones cracked.

Armor shattered.

Sathrael was hurled downward, his body crashing into the city below and tearing a canyon through infernal stone.

Morvane’s eyes widened in shock. Panic surged through his ancient heart as Overlord turned toward him.

Morvane reacted on instinct, forging a cocoon of chains around himself just as dozens of golden portals burst open above him. From each portal descended god weapons—hundreds of them—each bathed in crackling yellow lightning.

"BOOM!"

"BOOM!"

"BOOM!"

The barrage was relentless.

The cocoon slammed into the ground, but the weapons did not stop. They adjusted mid-flight, twisting their trajectories with uncanny precision, striking again and again without fail.

This was Overlord’s Demon Soul at work.

His mind split into hundreds of independent threads, each one guiding a weapon with perfect control.

Morvane had no escape.

The moment his cocoon shattered, he would be impaled from every direction.

Satisfied, Overlord turned away.

His attention returned to Sathrael.

Lightning exploded beneath his feet as he surged forward, Excalibur and Durendal blazing, ready to end the Crimson Arbiter’s life.

Not far away, the battle had shifted in Vlad’s favor as well.

Ixthariel—the Devil Lord formed from storms of shadow and screaming faces—howled in agony as grey flames erupted across his form. The Quietus Force burned without heat, targeting the soul directly.

Ixthariel was not flesh and blood.

That did not matter.

The grey flames dissected his essence, severing his existence layer by layer.

Just as one Devil Lord was falling, another came attacking.

Zeraphine struck.

The serpentine Devil Lord appeared behind Vlad, her tail raised, venom seething so intensely that space itself seemed to dissolve. A cruel smile spread across her face as she thrust forward, confident of her victory.

The sting was inches from Vlad’s neck when a portal opened.

The tail plunged through empty space.

Zeraphine’s eyes widened in confusion.

Then agony exploded through her chest.

Another portal had opened—directly in front of her heart.

Her own sting pierced her body.

She screamed as venom flooded her bloodstream. Though resistant to poisons—even her own—she could see flesh melting around the wound. Pain unlike anything she had known tore through her senses.

The Celestial Eye glowed again.

The portal snapped shut.

Her tail was severed.

"ARGHHHH!"

Zeraphine’s scream echoed across the battlefield as Vlad’s ferocious kick slammed into the embedded sting, driving it deeper and sending her crashing into the infernal streets below.

A cold smile appeared on the face of the True Depravita of Wrath as he felt the sting finally pierce Zeraphine’s heart after his kick. Even the monstrous vitality of a Devil Lord could not overcome a wound like that. Her body convulsed violently, infernal energy surging out of control as her life force began to collapse inward.

Still, Vlad did not lose focus for even a heartbeat.

The Quietus Sword ignited.

Grey flames burst from the blade, silent and absolute, before Vlad released them in a massive, surging ocean that engulfed Zeraphine completely.

The flames did not burn her flesh. They did something far worse. They sealed her—locking her mind, body, and soul in perfect stasis. Thought ceased. Movement vanished. Even the flow of infernal law around her froze solid.

Alive.

That was preferable.

A Devil Lord was always more valuable captured than dead.

With Zeraphine neutralized, Vlad turned instantly toward the living storm that was Ixthariel. Space folded beneath his feet as he flashed forward, the Quietus Sword already raised, ready to deliver the finishing blow.

Thanks to the devastating opening created by the True Depravita of Wrath and the True Depravita of Pride—each having already wounded multiple Devil Lords before the Sovereigns even entered the battlefield—the momentum had shifted completely.

The Sovereigns seized that advantage without mercy, pressing forward and landing decisive, brutal strikes against their enemies.

Merlin was the first to claim dominance.

Arcane sigils flared beneath one of the Devil Lords as Merlin dragged the massive figure into the ground itself. The earth caved in violently, swallowing both of them. His fangs sank deep into the Devil Lord’s neck, and a burst of obsidian flame detonated from within, scorching flesh and soul alike.

Brightkin moved like a beam of living light.

He faced Kharzug the World-Crusher head-on. The Devil Lord roared and struck repeatedly, each blow carrying world-shattering power. Yet not a single attack landed. Brightkin’s sword of light danced with impossible precision, carving wound after wound into Kharzug’s massive body. One slash went deep enough to cripple an entire arm, severing muscle and bone in a blinding flash.

Orkin laughed—a fierce, savage sound—as he brought his hammer down again and again. Lightning and thunder exploded with each impact as he smashed into the cyclopean Devil Lord’s already-injured body. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Blood poured freely from the gashes Vlad had carved earlier, and it did not take long before the sound of metallic flesh shattering and bones breaking echoed through the battlefield. The Devil Lord coughed up mouthfuls of blood mixed with fragments of his own internal organs.

Ankil was no less terrifying.

The Amazon Queen wore a ferocious, bloodthirsty smile as she forced her way straight through a beam of cursed energy fired by a Devil Lord. Ignoring the pain, she closed the distance and slashed upward, severing the creature’s eyes in a single clean motion. The Devil Lord screamed in agony—only for Ankil to strike again, her blade cutting across his throat.

A fountain of blood erupted.