The Great Demon System-Chapter 383: Clash of The Titans (3)

"I-IMPOSSIBLE!!"

As the fog was completely subsided, the source of the light was revealed, and the shalker felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach in real-time.

Those tips were not mere stars, there were none other than the ice projectiles he had deflected upon the initiation of their battle. All this time, they had been kept secret from him through a thick veil of icy fog, charging up an attack from each and every one of them.

The amount of energy stored in even a single shard of ice was astronomical, his black flames next to it were like a mere candle next to a chandelier.

His heart rate skyrocketed, and his panic incited a complete and utter change of plans. He shut his hands and spread his arms wide. The energy he once planned to use to fully annihilate his opponent was now relocated completely on defence— every ounce of energy he could spare.

And as he charged up his defenses, he kept his shaky gaze below at the still smiling man, and at his middle and ring finger adjacent to each other— for within that gap between his fingers ready to snap rested his very life.

"It's been nice! But now I'm going to have to get past you to see your master next!"

*SNAP*

At once, the shards of ice surrounding them twinkled, and beams of light shot out from each and every one of them as they struck the barrier where the shalker laid.

Upon impact, the barrier of flames immediately began to falter, and not too long after did the barrier fall to ruins. Each and every attack hit their targets, causing a grand spectacle of black and purple light that exploded in the sky.

And as the dust cleared, a figure remained afloat in the mayhem. His armour was in shambles, his horn was cracked and disintegrated, his snow-white skin was charred and inflicted with abhorrent bruises and blood that would revolt even the harshest souls. His vision was hazy, and he barely found the energy within himself to stay afloat as he tightly held onto his right arm that was broken beyond repair and felt as if it were ready to fall off and disconnect from his shoulders.

"I'm… I'm alive…" He mumbled to himself, panting in disbelief, yet soon after he realized that he should not have spoken so soon.

Through the thick dust, a metallic arm emerged and grabbed him within a crushing, iron grasp that barely allowed him to even breathe. And immediately after, his body roughly accelerated out of the fog.

Metallic gloves were blocking his vision, yet he knew exactly what was happening. The wind howled loudly in his ears, and the air struck his naked body like a wave of slaps. He was being grabbed, and now dragged, falling all the way down to earth.

"Let's go see your master together shall we?"

And his suspicions were soon verified by that same haunting voice of the traitorous monster. And soon after, he witnessed a light... a purple light through the previous darkness as he was once again greeted by that same superior purple flames, quite literally burning the idea into his mind.

*CRASH*

The glass ceiling of the throne room stood no chance against the meteorite diving into it, speeding through it as though it were not even there. On the solid ground they landed, and Moby's hands were still grasping onto the barely conscious shalker between his fingertips as he was showered by glass shards falling through the sky.

When Moby looked up from his opponent's beyond recognizable visage, he was met by a wide, grandiose throne room that would put many castles on earth to shame. It did not bear the same faded appearance of the exterior… No, it looked well maintained as though there was a maid who worked within it every single minute of every single day.

The ground that bore an intricate design, other than where he crashed, was spotless. He was able to see his own reflection within it as if it were glass. The pillars holding the roof were etched in gold, and the throne directly ahead of him was unseated and rested above several steps, jewel-encrusted and glistened like a star even amongst the shiny room.

Yet, that was not what had gotten both Moby's and Avilia's jaws to abruptly drop, unable to believe what they were witnessing.

Upon the walls and all across the ground were paintings and statues, all of a single woman. Each one was built with immaculate detail, poised for perfection. With every brushstroke, there was passion that was very much clear and elevated the beauty of who was drawn beyond its standard perfection.

It was a woman with a smirk of domination and pride as though all in the world were insects before her. Her pupils shined within her sockets like bright amethysts, and her soft-featured face was so beautiful that it could kill. Her hair was a long and soft light purple, smooth as silk and fell down to her bosom, and her attire was like that of an all-mighty monarch that felt no shame in displaying her assets and superiority over others.

With but one glance it was clear who it was… For only one woman in all the three realms could perfectly match such a description.

'Is… Is that me?'

"Esphand! You here? Was it you who just came in?" A sudden, casual voice emerged, echoing all around the room. "Were you the one causing all that racket outside? It was pretty distracting for me. Eh, doesn't matter…" He sighed before continuing. "Did you bring the demon in? If so then set him to the side and go get me my paint from Arkiak city below! I've run out of red! I'd like to be left alone with this demon… It's been many years since I've seen one of my kin, I'm curious to see what he has to say…"

"..."

"Hmmmm? Esphand? You there? Do you hear me?"