Chapter 684: The Two Who Defy Fate (Part II)

Above, below, and all around stretched a void that pulsed with colorless light, rippling like the
inside of a shattered mirror. What had once been the Devil King’s throne room was now a
boundaryless expanse where gravity and space shifted with every heartbeat. The ruins of what
had been a palace drifted weightlessly in the distance, their marble fragments slowly
disintegrating into ash.

At the center of it all, Zero Elea and the Emperor of Destruction stood side by side.

Aamon loomed across from them, his body enveloped in swirling scarlet flames that ate through
the void like wildfire. His presence bent the horizon itself, his silhouette towering like a god born
from chaos. Each breath he took radiated destruction. His laughter echoed through the abyss,
mocking yet almost reverent.

"You’ve truly done it," Aamon said, voice resonating with impossible depth. "Two souls, one
origin. The fortune of the mortals twisted until it broke its own reflection."

Zero’s grip tightened around his sword, frost forming along the length of his arm and crawling
up to his cheek like veins of pale glass. The cold was no longer a comfort—it was the only thing
keeping him conscious.

Beside him, the Emperor’s expression remained calm, his dark aura shifting like ink under
moonlight. "We stand united only for this moment," he murmured, his tone neither warm nor
cruel. "Do not mistake this alliance for trust, Aamon. Our goals merely intersect."

Aamon’s grin widened, jagged teeth gleaming like molten crystal. "Trust? No, Emperor. I
wouldn’t expect it of you. After all... even in your own world, you burned everything that defied
your will."

A faint smirk tugged at the Emperor’s lips. "And yet here you stand, speaking of fire to its
creator."

Before Aamon could reply, Zero vanished. Frost exploded outward as he appeared above the
Devil King, sword descending in an arc of pure cryomantic energy. The blow struck Aamon’s
shoulder, tearing through part of his wing—but the Devil’s regeneration was instant, his
laughter booming through the dark.

"Still trying to carve through infinity with mortal strength?"

Aamon backhanded Zero, sending him crashing through a floating fragment of marble. The
shard shattered under the impact, scattering through the void like dying stars.
The Emperor moved instantly, stepping through space itself. The darkness around him
condensed into a blade, and he thrust forward, piercing Aamon’s chest. For an instant, the
world froze. Then black blood spilled—only for it to burn into light before touching the ground.

"Impressive," Aamon whispered, gripping the blade embedded in his body. "You almost touched
my core."

He clenched his hand. The darkness cracked and dissolved, the Emperor forced to withdraw
several steps as the Devil King’s aura multiplied again.

The void screamed.

An explosion of crimson light expanded from Aamon’s form, pushing both Zero and the Emperor
back. Shards of energy rained across the battlefield, each capable of disintegrating entire cities.

Zero spun midair, landing on his feet across a drifting platform of frozen light. He pressed his
palm to the ground, releasing a wave of mana. "Ice Art: Eternal Hailstorm!"

A blizzard erupted, a sphere of condensed frost that spread through the void, freezing even the
scarlet flames in its reach. Aamon’s body was encased in a prison of crystalized mana—yet it
cracked within seconds, his laughter cutting through the storm like thunder.

"Do you think this world’s elements obey you anymore, boy?"

Zero gritted his teeth. "Then I’ll make it obey."

The frost around him brightened, no longer cold but blinding. The shards hovering midair
hummed with resonance—his mana harmonizing with the collapsing world. The boundary
between matter and energy faltered as he drew from the realm itself.

The Emperor glanced toward him briefly, eyes narrowing. So... he’s beginning to synchronize.

He didn’t have time to warn him. Aamon lunged forward, his fist cloaked in the energy of divine
corruption. The Emperor met him mid-stride, their clash splitting the void open once more.
Darkness coiled around Aamon’s arm, black tendrils trying to restrain his motion, but the Devil
broke through them effortlessly.

The Emperor vanished, reappearing behind him, blade raised. "Desolation Surge."

Amon’s body twisted unnaturally fast—he caught the blade mid-swing, smiling. "You think the
dark obeys you, Emperor? Darkness was born from my fall."

With a surge of divine power, Aamon crushed the blade between his fingers, forcing the
Emperor backward with a blast of corrupted energy. The force tore apart several drifting islands
of stone and light, vaporizing them into motes.
Zero appeared again, frost wings spreading wide. The temperature plummeted so drastically
that Aamon’s flames flickered. He dived forward, his sword now covered in shimmering blue
sigils.

"Glacial Rift!"

He slashed downward. The strike didn’t cut Aamon—it cut space itself. The Devil King stumbled
as part of the battlefield folded inward, his own power momentarily colliding against the
inverted dimension.

The Emperor followed through instantly, using the distortion to strike Aamon’s exposed back.
Their combined hit landed squarely on his core, sending the Devil King reeling into the void.

For the first time since the battle began, he bled.

The blood that fell from his wound turned to fire the moment it touched the air, but it was still
blood.

Zero landed beside the Emperor, panting heavily. "He’s... losing balance."

The Emperor’s eyes narrowed. "No. He’s stabilizing his ascension. We’ve barely bought
seconds."

As if to prove his point, Aamon rose slowly, his aura now burning with celestial intensity. His
wings unfolded wider, their edges dissolving into radiant flame. The devil’s wounds sealed in an
instant, his presence expanding until even the void struggled to contain him.

"This," Aamon said softly, "is the true body of the Devil King."

The void turned scarlet. The gravitational pull inverted; the fragments of the palace shattered
completely. The pressure alone crushed the edges of Zero’s armor and split open his skin.

The Emperor raised his hand, shadows converging to shield them both. His expression
hardened. "He’s transcending the limits of Rank SSS. We cannot hold this world together much
longer."

"Then what do we do?" Zero rasped.

The Emperor glanced at him. "You said you wanted to defy fate. Prove it. Anchor yourself."

Zero’s eyes widened. "You mean—"

"Fuse with your mana origin. You’ve already touched the edge of synchronization with this
collapsing dimension. If you stabilize it through your will, even Aamon’s divinity can’t override
your existence."
Zero stared into the abyss where Aamon floated like a living sun. His mind screamed impossible
—but his heart answered necessary.

He sheathed his sword and raised both hands. Frost spiraled from his body, not outward but
inward, pulling in the ambient energy, the fragments of mana and reality swirling around him.

The Emperor’s eyes widened slightly. "He’s actually doing it..."

Light and darkness clashed violently as Aamon struck again, releasing waves of energy that tore
through the void. The Emperor intercepted, summoning massive tendrils of shadow that
absorbed the incoming energy, though his own body began to crack from the strain.

"You dare—" Aamon roared, "—try to anchor the world itself before me!?"

Zero’s voice cut through the storm. "If this world must break to stop you—then I’ll rebuild it
from what’s left!"

His body glowed with a blinding frostlight. The realm responded—broken pieces of heaven and
hell gravitating toward him. The void began to swirl, condensing around his form as he forcibly
tethered it together.

Aamon screamed in fury, his aura surging to unimaginable intensity. "Then DIE WITH IT!"

He dove forward, a spear of flame manifesting in his hand, divine destruction itself condensed
into form. The Emperor intercepted again, blades of shadow forming around him as he
countered the strike.

The impact sent ripples through creation.

Zero’s frost aura reached its limit, the energy screaming around him as he finally stabilized a
portion of the realm—only for his knees to buckle under the weight. The cost was immense;
every second burned through his life force.

The Emperor felt it too—Zero’s existence flickering, his presence growing faint. He turned
sharply, shouting over the chaos, "Don’t lose your consciousness! If you fall now, everything
collapses again!"

"I’m... not planning to!" Zero shouted back, voice cracking but defiant.

Aamon broke through their clash, fury burning in his eyes as he raised his spear for the final
strike. "Then let this defiance end in nothingness!"

The world convulsed.

As everything was consumed, only three silhouettes remained—one of flame, one of frost, and
one of shadow.

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