In the next second, Astaroth shot out of the crater in a blur, soaring high into the sky.

He hovered there above the city, wings spread wide, eyes burning with disbelief and anger.

"If you want destruction," he snarled, voice echoing over the rooftops, "then I’ll give it to you."

He reached into his suit and pulled out a handful of small, black seeds. With a lazy flick of his wrist, he scattered them toward the ground.

They fell like rain.

The moment they touched the streets and rooftops below, they sank into the surface and began to swell. Black miasma erupted from the ground, twisting and knotting together into giant creatures.

They were roughly humanoid, but horribly distorted—elongated arms that dragged across the ground, legs like bent spears, heads shapeless except for a gaping maw filled with jagged teeth. Their bodies were made entirely of roiling black mist, constantly shifting, with glowing red cores pulsing in the center of their chests.

And they kept multiplying.

Every time one of them roared, more miasma spilled out and formed another.

Screams rose from the streets as civilians ran.

Soldiers and Awakeners stationed around the palace reacted at once, charging forward with weapons drawn. Fire spells, blades, and bullets tore into the creatures, making them explode into mists—only for that same mist to crawl along the ground and form new monsters.

On the rooftop, Aiden saw the chaos below.

"I have to help them!" he yelled, and without hesitation, he jumped off the building.

Yuna watched him go, then looked at Arthur.

"Go help him," she said.

Arthur glanced down at the battlefield, then back at her.

"Well, it seems they’ll do just fine," he said. "Can’t I just stay here and help you?"

"You’ll only hold me back," Yuna replied flatly.

"That’s harsh."

"It’s the truth. If you don’t like it, become stronger."

Arthur clicked his tongue.

"Alright, alright... I’ll do as you say."

He stepped to the edge of the rooftop and jumped.

He dropped several stories, suit and hair whipping in the wind.

Bam.

He landed in the street with enough force to crack the pavement, dust and debris bursting outward. When the dust cleared, there wasn’t a single scratch on him.

He looked at the approaching black creatures.

"Well," he said, rolling his shoulders, "my master is watching, so help me look useful."

This time, the Voidmorph Carapace reacted.

Black energy flowed down his arm and solidified, forming a sleek black sword in his hand, its edge glowing faintly with dark light.

In the next instant, Arthur disappeared in a blur.

He reappeared in the midst of the horde.

Several of the black monsters froze.

Their heads slid off their necks a moment later, bodies collapsing into miasma that evaporated into nothing. Dozens fell in the span of a heartbeat.

Arthur didn’t stop.

He sprinted forward and leaped high into the air above a dense cluster of creatures.

Midair, the sword melted and reformed, wrapping around his arms and hardening into black gauntlets.

Arthur gathered mana and qi into both fists, energy swirling around them like miniature storms.

"Let’s see how durable you are," he muttered.

He came down like a meteor.

His fists slammed into the ground in the middle of the horde.

Boom.

A massive shockwave erupted outward in a ring, obliterating every miasma creature within range. They were blown apart, red cores shattered, black mist scattered and burned by the raw force of the impact.

When the dust settled, a new crater scarred the street.

Arthur stood alone at its center, cracks spiderwebbing out beneath his feet.

Awakeners and soldiers around the area stopped mid-battle, staring at him in stunned silence.

Arthur looked down at both of his hands, flexing his fingers inside the gauntlets.

"I wonder if I can combine multiple energies," he murmured. "To form a single new energy that can fuse any form of energy... and become one new power source."

His system responded in his mind.

[ We can try that, but I don’t think right now is the time, Host. ]

Arthur tilted his head back and looked up.

High above, Astaroth hovered, laughing madly as he watched the chaos unfold below.

"I wonder how high his bloodline purity is," Arthur whispered. "The bloodline of a Demon Lord will surely be powerful."

A small smile tugged at his lips.

"I’ll wait for a chance," he said. "Until he’s weakened enough."

Astaroth’s voice boomed across the sky, black fire enveloping his body and burning even brighter. His laughter died. The large grin that had twisted his face moments ago vanished, replaced by pure, focused rage.

His eyes locked onto Yuna again.

In the next second, both of them moved.

Astaroth’s aura exploded—a nuclear blaze of black fury that bathed the entire capital in blinding, hellish light. The temperature soared; air warped and shimmered as if the world itself was being tossed into a furnace.

At the same time, lightning wrapped itself around Yuna.

Bolts of silver-white electricity danced across her skin, coiling around her limbs and shoulders. In an instant, it was as if she had become lightning incarnate, her entire body blazing with crackling radiance.

Then she moved.

Astaroth’s hands erupted in a thick, radiant glow of dark flame as he shot forward, and he turned his head just in time to see Yuna’s fist rocketing toward him with unstoppable momentum.

Fist met fist.

The collision was catastrophic.

Parts of the Ashford Empire’s capital shook with unrelenting, bone-rattling intensity as their punches collided at what felt like world-ending speed.

The first impact sent shockwaves so powerful the air itself seemed to scream. The ground split open in jagged lines, rooftops caved in, and even the clouds above tore apart. The sky cracked with streaks of light, and the atmosphere trembled as if it couldn’t withstand the force.

Then came another collision.

And another.

Each blow was more violent, more destructive than the last.

In just a few seconds, they had clashed what felt like millions of times, fists blurring into invisible trails. There was only thunder and black fire, lightning and shockwaves, hammering the city in rapid succession.

Their movements were so fast and devastating that it seemed reality itself might shatter under the weight of their power.

Yuna’s lightning-coated knuckles slammed into Astaroth’s ribs, jaw, and abdomen, every strike sending out ripples of force. Astaroth’s counters—black fire blasts, claw strikes, and wing sweeps—were formidable, but they kept hitting empty air as Yuna slipped past them with effortless precision.

To him, she was a blur he could barely track.

With each passing moment, the gap became clearer.

’This human is dangerous...’ Astaroth thought, blood running down his chin. ’I underestimated her.’

Yuna drove a punch into his stomach that made his body fold, then followed with a brutal uppercut that snapped his head back. He felt bones crack under the weight of her blows—pain that didn’t feel human at all.

She was faster.

She was stronger.

And she was enjoying it.

A battle-maniac grin spread across Yuna’s face, eyes shining with wild excitement. The chaos, the destruction—the life-and-death stakes—she wasn’t just enduring it.

She was relishing it.

Astaroth lunged in with a clawed strike aimed at her throat.

Yuna tilted her head a fraction, letting the claws graze past her cheek, then pivoted on her heel.

Her leg whipped around in a devastating roundhouse kick.

Her boot crashed into his side like a battering ram.

Astaroth’s body shot up into the sky, propelled higher and higher, spinning through the air.

But Yuna was already there.

She flashed above him in a streak of lightning, appearing just as he tried to balance himself in midair. His wings flared out to stabilize—

Yuna’s hands clamped down on one of them.

Astaroth’s eyes went wide.

He could feel it—the intent, the raw force behind her grip.

"Don’t you dare—" he roared.

Yuna pulled.

With merciless strength, she tore the wing from his back.

Blood sprayed across the sky in a crimson arc, splattering the broken clouds.

Astaroth screamed, a guttural, inhuman sound that shook the air.

Yuna followed through without hesitation.

She drove a final, earth-shattering kick into his chest.

His body became a black-and-red comet, hurtling back toward the ground. He slammed into the city with a colossal impact, earth erupting, buildings shaking as a massive crater formed where he landed.

For a moment, the entire battlefield went silent.

Soldiers, Awakeners, and even the monsters paused.

Everyone held their breath and stared, eyes wide, as their minds struggled to process what they had just witnessed—

A Demon Lord’s wing torn off barehanded, then slammed into the ground like a ragdoll by a single human.