"What!" Vael was shocked at how suddenly his attack was split apart. He didn’t even feel anything.
But as the dust settled, he saw Apollo standing calmly, holding a sword like an eternal omnipresent king.
The sword in Apollo’s hand humd with a presence that transcended the battlefield.
Its form was ethereal yet sharp, forged from the silent convergence of space and tilessness. The edge shimred not with light, but with absence—the absence of distortion, of impurity, of chaos. A sword rule that cannot be tainted.
Vael’s laughter stopped, his expression freezing mid-madness.
"What kind of rule is that?"
Apollo calmly looked at the dispersed palm and nodded in his heart. "It seems my Eternal Sword rule can cut through it. Even this weird rule swallowing power cannot handle my sword rule."
He felt good, as although even without drawing his sword, he knew he could have defeated Vael eventually. But not like this. Not with such overwhelming, absolute dominance—where the enemy’s twisted attack hadn’t just failed but had been cleaved apart without resistance.
"No, it cannot be possible. There shouldn’t be anything or any rule in the universe that can destroy it. No, this is impossible."
Vael roared, as it seed his intelligence and will had deteriorated as he used this weird power. But he himself didn’t seem to care or notice it.
He attacked once again with his full might, filled with intense killing intent. He wanted to annihilate and devour everything about Apollo without even leaving a drop of blood.
The corrupted wings behind him exploded into motion, and the blackened aura roared to life, turning the battlefield into a roiling ocean of warped energy. The air howled as space buckled around his charge, collapsing like crushed parchnt.
A massive, disgusting black and grey sword appeared above that seed to be an amalgamation of despair and desolateness.
"Die!" And the black and grey sword-like calamity fell upon Apollo.
Seeing this, Apollo didn’t hold back.
His gaze turned razor-sharp, and the calm in his expression vanished—replaced by absolute focus. He raised his hand, and the Eternal Sword Rule responded, surging with a quiet intensity that drowned out the chaos around him.
Above, the black and grey sword descended like a judgent from the abyss. It wasn’t just a weapon—it was an embodint of collapse, of everything broken in the world, laced with emotions so vile the sky wept and the earth cracked.
But Apollo... stood still.
And then—
"Eternal Sword—Formless Infinite Horizon."
The mont he spoke, the sword in his hand vanished—not by being hidden but by ascending beyond form. Space twisted around his arm, and a line appeared in the air: clean, pure, without beginning or end. It did not shine. It did not roar. It simply was.
And as the calamity blade ca down, that silent line extended.
The clash didn’t echo. It erased sound.
For a heartbeat, the world froze.
Then—
Shrrrkk—!
The massive black sword, once a monunt of despair, split diagonally—its severed halves drifting apart like dying shadows. The warped aura that had filled the heavens cracked, then shattered into nothingness.
A gust of void-wind swept the field.
Below, Vael staggered midair, face slack with disbelief. But he didn’t get enough ti to think enough, as the power of the Eternal Sword rule didn’t diminish much even after that.
"What... did you do...?"
Szzz!
Instantly the heaven and earth split into two halves.
No flash. No thunder. Just a line, as thin as a whisper, slicing through sky and soil alike.
The world paused. Then trembled.
The clouds above parted like silk torn by invisible hands. Mountains in the distance cracked down the middle, their peaks tumbling in slow motion. The very laws of the realm wavered, uncertain if they should continue to function.
The dust settled, and Vael’s figure can be seen in the devastated land.
His once-monstrous form flickered, the corrupted wings torn and fading, his aura dimming like the last breath of a dying fire.
He took one staggering step.
Then another.
"How..."
The word ca not as a shout nor a whisper—but a low growl, ragged and bestial, like the death-rattle of sothing that once dared to challenge the heavens.
Then—
His body split.
Not with blood—but with silence.
Down the centre, from skull to gut, a thin, perfect line glowed briefly... and then parted. One half of him collapsed to the right. The other, to the left.
And with that, Vael was no more.
Even until his end he cannot figure out how he could lose to soone in the void god realm. Even the taboo power for which he betrayed everyone cannot change his inevitable ending.
Everything returned to silence; whether it was Clark, Sara or Arvain, and the group of geniuses submitted to Vael, all of them looked at the floating figure in the sky with awe. They cannot believe what they saw, especially the land sword that seems to be beyond their comprehension.
Apollo, on the other hand, was calr, but still, the weird power that Vael used left so deep impression, as it was truly a very different kind of power and troubleso.
It also let him rember it had the sa properties as the Law of Devour, which also wasn’t an unusual law that he got from an unknown god in Rion, making him think, Can there be so connection between them?
This also makes him interested in Hall of Hell, as it seems they have so connection with it. So he glanced at Arvain, who was still in a bit of shock after seeing his strength.
Arvain snapped out of his daze the mont he t Apollo’s eyes. Instinctively, he straightened his posture and masked the fear that had briefly surfaced.
But his heart pounded.
After witnessing that battle, he understood—truly understood—why Apollo had reached the ninth floor.
The gap between them wasn’t just wide. It was unbridgeable.
And so, he held his ground, face calm, posture respectful—but every fibre of him was alert. Because standing across from him wasn’t just a fellow genius. It was sothing else entirely.
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