Everyone saw and beca excited to see the strength of both of them. Just by the aura they showed, they surpassed 90% of trialists by a large margin. Just facing the aura of them, they would lose directly without them even needing to lift their fingers.
The Necros trialist’s cold eyes narrowed slightly as if surprised by Apollo’s resilience and strength. With a low snarl, he gathered the shadows around him, the dark energy thickening and forming dense, spectral chains that whipped through the air toward Apollo with terrifying speed.
He does not seem to waste ti, although he seems to have lost the first confrontation; his cold eyes showed no hesitation when he attacked Apollo.
Apollo’s eyes narrowed in response, his movent many tis faster than sound, quickly evading the dark shadow chains like they were nothing worth ntioning. He seems to appear like he is strolling in his back garden as the chains try to strangle him.
His body and instincts have transcended the conventional ans; he didn’t even need to think anything at all to dodge most attacks.
The Necros trialist’s eyes grew colder, shadows swirling more intensely around him. With a flick of his hand, the chains morphed, branching out like a storm of black vipers, each one sharper and faster than the last. They twisted and closed in from all directions, aiming to envelop Apollo in an inescapable net of darkness.
But Apollo’s eyes glinted with a trace of amusent. With a re flick of his wrist, he bent space around him, creating subtle distortions that caused the chains to veer off course, missing their target entirely.
Gliding between the dark, writhing tendrils, he seed to dance through them, evading each strike without effort. His body moved with a haunting stillness, every step precise as if he knew when and from where the attack was going to co, knew by heart.
With a whisper of cold air, Apollo finally retaliated. He lifted his hand, summoning an ethereal, crystalline mist that solidified into countless razor-sharp ice shards floating in the air around him. With a gesture, the shards shot forward, slicing through the space between them with deadly precision.
The Necros trialist raised a wall of shadows to block the attack, but the ice shards phased in and out of existence, bypassing the barrier through small spatial rifts.
Several shards struck their target, grazing the trialist’s arm, but it seed that he also was covered with another layer of shadow that covered his entire body and skin, which quickly protected him as the ice shards seed lost in the shadow veil.
The crowd gasped seeing the strength and sophisticated understanding and control shown by both.
The Necros trialists didn’t stop and started to gather his strength; he unleashed a powerful blast of dark shadow energy, expanding it in a wide radius to consu everything in its path.
But Apollo was ready. With a calm breath, he stretched out his hand, causing the space around him to warp and bend. The blast seed to fold in on itself, its dark power pulled away from him and redirected into a frozen sphere hovering above his palm.
Apollo clenched his hand, and the sphere shattered, sending shards of dark ice scattering harmlessly into the air.
The crowd gasped in awe, struck by the ease with which Apollo seed to use ice and space law to his will. His mastery over both elents was undeniable, each move executed with precision and calm restraint.
"A clever use of shadows," Apollo said, his voice echoing with an icy calm, "but it won’t be enough to reach ."
When he fought the guy from the Necros continent in ruins, he was very weak, and the guy was seriously injured without strength, so he cannot say much about the guy, but he shouldn’t be much stronger unless he improved impressively in these years.
The Necros trialist’s gaze turned steely, clearly not ready to give up. Gathering his energy, he prepared for one final, desperate assault.
But Apollo rely smiled, his figure cloaked in a cold, icy aura, fully prepared to et whatever ca next, the very air around him brimming with the chill of absolute stillness and the quiet hum of distorted space.
The Necros trialists for the first ti showed so expression through their eyes as their face were still hidden. Otherwise, most trialists in the crowd started to believe they were emotionless monsters.
He seed cloaked in a shadow domain, his aura climbing as if he had activated so secret technique. His power continued to rise at an eerie pace, filling the arena with an oppressive dark energy. But it didn’t end there—a mysterious force erged, slowly beginning to devour everything within the domain.
This mysterious power was all too familiar to Apollo; it was the Law of Devour, a concept he understood deeply. However, his opponent’s grasp of it was weak by comparison, lacking a profound understanding even weaker to him.
The air grew thick as the Necros trialist’s domain took shape, his aura expanding like a dark tide, swallowing the light around them. The crowd gasped, so shuddering as the temperature seed to plumt within the arena, a suffocating sense of dread filling every corner. The shadows began to writhe and take shape.
"Hounds of Shadow."
And instantly the shadows within the arena turn into countless black mist-like hounds with mysterious auras, who were neither alive nor dead.
Each hound growled, its eyes glinting with an unnatural, sinister gleam as they prowled forward, their ghostly forms slipping in and out of visibility.
The shadow mist hounds moved as one, lunging with terrifying speed. But Apollo’s figure remained steady, his ice and spatial domains layered in perfect harmony, creating an impenetrable aura around him.
With a flick of his fingers, Apollo summoned an array of crystalline ice shards, each one sharp as a blade and brimming with a deep, azure glow. The shards flared to life and shot toward the advancing hounds, slicing through the shadowy figures with relentless precision.
Each shard shattered on impact, releasing blasts of freezing energy that encased the hounds in layers of ice, freezing them solid.
But the hounds didn’t shatter or die; they simply reford, darkness swirling back into shape, drawn from the shadows of the domain itself.
The trialist from Necros let out a dark, hollow chuckle. "They are endless. This is my domain—you cannot escape the devouring shadows."
Apollo remained calm and quickly devised a straightforward plan to face these unkillable shadows: eliminate the caster who summoned these hounds.
He was now prepared to go all out, especially with his semi-divine energy, which had grown imnsely powerful since reaching the saint level. It was just a step away from transforming into true divinity.
In this state, even his basic attacks would be trendously strong if he fully unleashed his semi-divine energy.
Boom!
Energy erupted within him as a dense wave of semi-divine power, filled with the aura of divinity, surged out. It shook the arena, instantly shifting the atmosphere as a chilling sensation ran through the crowd of trialists, settling deep in their bones.
"Ice Nova!
He used his old skill that he himself created, but compared to then, the difference was heaven and earth. If before it was cold mist, then now it is a heavenly calamity that can destroy cities and freeze tens of thousands of people in an instant.
A thick silver mist spread outward, a frozen hell advancing with unstoppable montum. Everything in its path succumbed to the glacial wave, swallowed in an instant, with frost that clung, froze, and shattered all that stood before it.
The silver mist spread rapidly across the arena, encasing everything in an icy grip. Even the so-called ’unkillable’ hounds were montarily immobilized, their dark forms crackling under the intense cold, though not yet destroyed. But Apollo’s focus wasn’t on them—they were re obstacles. His true target was the Necros trialist.
"Szzz... Szzzz..."
The hissing sounds echoed as the frost gnawed at the edges of the shadowy domain.
The Necros trialist’s eyes narrowed as the icy mist encroached upon his domain, tendrils of silver frost spiralling inward, eroding the dark aura. The shadows, usually resilient and relentless, seed to recoil, struggling against the frost that was now devouring them piece by piece.
Apollo’s ice was absolute as if each flake of silver mist held an essence of cold so profound it seeped into the very marrow of reality, freezing not just form but law itself.
With one final surge, Apollo raised his hand, summoning a torrent of frozen space that cascaded down like a storm. The frost closed in on the Necros trialist, engulfing him entirely, his figure a silhouette within a crystalline cage of silver ice.
The hissing of shadows and frost filled the arena, the silver mist crystallizing around him, only his eyes—wide with frustration—were visible through the prison of frost until not an inch remained which ended the battle.
The crowd watched in stunned silence as the frost settled, Apollo standing victorious, his icy aura slowly dissipating as he released his control.
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