Chapter 702 – Illusion Battlefield
The limbo sky flickered like a broken screen. The floating marble slabs trembled. The hidden archway node Lux had struck began glowing brighter, contract glyphs twisting into hostile geotry as if the dinsion itself had taken offense.
Vizreel lifted his sword first.
Lux didn’t need a signal. They moved together like they had done this a thousand tis. Which, realistically, they had. Just usually with less existential interior decorating.
Vizreel slamd his blade into the invisible archway. Silver judgnt energy exploded outward, cracking the containnt sigils.
Lux vanished in a blur of teleportation, reappearing above the barrier with both daggers igniting in infernal fire. He drove them downward, carving intersecting greed runes into the node.
The impact detonated with a violent ripple.
Limbo scread.
The entire pocket dinsion vibrated like it had just been audited by soone very angry and extrely qualified.
Vizreel swung again, wings flaring wide as he channeled a vertical arc of pure balance energy. The slash ripped through floating debris and slamd into the weakened node, fracturing the glyph shell.
Lux flicked his wrist.
"Demonic Orbs."
Fifty black spheres burst into existence around him, swirling like a school of extrely hostile cosmic fish. Each orb pulsed with unstable debt curses and minor explosive enchantnts, bouncing and orbiting him with chaotic enthusiasm.
"Go make financial mistakes," Lux commanded.
The orbs dove toward the node, slamming into it in rapid succession. Explosions cracked across the barrier, sending waves of dark light ricocheting through the limbo field.
The node shattered.
For one glorious second, the dinsion trembled like it might collapse completely.
Then it answered.
Light erupted.
Not warm celestial light. Not holy. Not infernal. Sothing sterile. Surgical. The kind of light that erased contracts and rewrote physics out of spite.
The entire realm convulsed. A pulse of invisible force exploded outward from every direction at once.
Lux barely had ti to mutter, "Oh that seems unnecessary—"
The blast hit.
Hard.
He felt gravity yank sideways, then up, then none at all. His wings folded instinctively as he was hurled across the void landscape like a very expensive demonic projectile.
Vizreel was thrown in the opposite direction, sword skidding sparks through floating stair fragnts before disappearing into a blinding surge of light.
Lux slamd into sothing that might have been the conceptual mory of a balcony, bounced, then crashed into the obsidian ground with a grunt.
Dust rose around him. Not normal dust. Limbo dust. It shimred like forgotten ideas and expired destiny fragnts.
Lux groaned, pushing himself up slowly, armor flickering as Dark Healing activated instinctively.
"Okay," he muttered. "That was rude."
[System Alert: Dinsional integrity altered.]
[Warning: Perception filters detected.]
[Probability of illusion terrain: 86%.]
Lux blinked.
"...Great."
He stood fully, shaking his shoulders once. His daggers spun lazily between his fingers as the dust began settling.
And that was when he saw it.
Vizreel was gone.
Instead, standing across the shattered void terrain... was sothing else.
An angel.
Massive.
Monstrous.
Nearly twice Vizreel’s height, shoulders broad enough to block entire constellations, wings layered in blinding white armor feathers. Its body rippled with exaggerated divine musculature like soone sculpted hero propaganda into living flesh. It gripped a colossal sword radiating righteous overcompensation energy.
Lux stared.
The angel stared back.
Silence stretched between them.
Lux slowly tilted his head.
"...Wow," he said. "You got buff."
The angel growled. Not articulate. Just raw, primal hostility vibrating through the limbo air.
Lux stared for another second.
Then smirked.
He began casually flipping his daggers in elaborate patterns. Spinning them between fingers. Tossing them overhead. Catching them behind his back. Making ridiculous, overly theatrical gestures like a cocky Greed prince showing off in a training arena.
He rolled one shoulder dramatically. Cracked his neck. Adjusted his stance like he was posing for a scandalously expensive infernal fashion magazine.
Then he dropped into combat posture.
Across from him, the holy monster responded with its own equally theatrical sequence. It lifted its sword slowly, rotating it in ceremonial arcs. Wings flared outward in symtrical dramatic spread. It stepped forward in exaggerated heroic stance like it was about to deliver a motivational speech about justice and protein supplents.
Lux’s smirk sharpened.
He understood imdiately.
’Oh,’ he thought. ’Illusion battlefield. Separate perception layers.’
The monster angel raised its blade, stance identical to Vizreel’s personal opening combat form.
Lux chuckled.
’You sneaky, sanctified Archon,’ he muttered under his breath. ’They fed you the sa trick.’
Years ago, during a joint eting, Lux and Vizreel had joked about what they would do if soone ever trapped them in hallucination combat. They had designed a ridiculous contingency plan. Signature attack choreography. Overly dramatic gestures. Exaggerated theatrical fighting styles that only they would recognize.
Lux sighed.
’Pathetic, I just ntioned it, and it took the bait,’ he thought.
But he rolled his shoulders anyway and prepared to play along.
They couldn’t communicate directly. The illusion wouldn’t allow it.
So they would fight.
Convincingly.
Lux raised one dagger and pointed it toward the monstrous angel.
"You," he said loudly, voice dripping with theatrical villain arrogance. "Where’s Vizreel?"
The holy monster responded with a guttural grunt that probably ant "plot progression."
"Yeah," Lux nodded. "About what I expected."
The angel charged first.
Its sword carved downward with cathedral-crushing force. Lux teleported sideways instantly, reappearing behind it with Agility boosting his montum. His daggers slashed across the angel’s wing plating, sparks exploding in a convincing shower of divine feathers.
The angel roared and backhanded him across the battlefield with exaggerated force.
Lux flew backward, hit the ground, and bounced twice like a dramatic demon who forgot physics existed.
He spat fake blood dramatically, though no hit landed. Yeah, he brought so fake blood in his dinsional space, in case he needed it.
"Curse you, oversized choir boy!" he shouted.
[That was unnecessary.]
"Shut up," Lux whispered.
The angel lunged again.
Vizreel’s sword technique.
Lux recognized it instantly. Balanced overhead strike into cross-body cleave.
He countered with Barrier magic, conjuring an infernal shield that shattered spectacularly upon impact.
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