CHAPTER 839: THE SCOURGE

Jormungandr poured more and more energy into the massive ocean of lightning he had conjured, its brilliant, seething arcs clashing against the descending solar inferno unleashed by Atila. The sky above the Ice Cube fortress turned into a cataclysmic battlefield, where fire and lightning warred for supremacy. Every crackling explosion and sonic detonation echoed for kilometers, shaking the hearts of all who bore witness.

But Atila didn’t waver. If anything, he grew stronger. He drew on the power of the sun itself, his sword channeling unimaginable energy as he pushed the blazing inferno downward. His mouth stretched into a wide, maniacal grin, and a deep, guttural laugh echoed through the heavens.

"Hahahahahaha!" he roared, reveling in the chaos. "Millions of years trapped within the collective consciousness, my will drowned beneath the weight of eternity. You cannot fathom how thrilling it is to think, to feel, to fight as myself once again. And as a gift of gratitude—" his eyes burned with solar fury, "—I will reduce you all to ash!"

With that, the solar flames surged with even greater intensity. The inferno descended faster, pressing the lightning back. Jormungandr felt the heat on his scales, and a suffocation pressure assailed him as if the weight of the sun was falling on him.

Below, the soldiers of the Xaos Kingdom clenched their jaws as waves of blistering heat washed over them. Even their strongest enchantments were beginning to falter. The ice of the fortress walls began to melt. It was no ordinary fire. It was divine, apocalyptic.

Despite their courage, even hardened warriors are human. And the looming threat of being incinerated alive was not something easily shrugged off. Still, not a single soldier ran. Not a single soul backed down.

The skeletal beasts and abominations, however, remained utterly unaffected. Though they bore intelligence in their eyes, they had no concept of fear or self-preservation. Death was meaningless to them. Their march never faltered. They pressed on with terrifying precision, a relentless tide of bone and malice.

Just as the lightning was about to be completely overwhelmed, Atila’s eyes suddenly widened as he detected something.

He turned just in time to raise his sword in defense as a tear opened in the very fabric of reality—a spatial portal crackling with power. From it emerged a young man with white hair and blazing crimson eyes. His skin radiated wrath, and his aura burned like a tempest.

Vlad had arrived.

He said nothing. His expression was carved from iron, his will absolute. With a burst of power, he thrust his sword forward.

"BOOOOOOM!"

The clash echoed like thunder across the sky as Vlad’s sword met Atila’s in a monumental explosion. Atila was thrown backward, spinning through the air like a broken doll.

Jormungandr’s eyes widened. With Atila’s control momentarily disrupted, the solar inferno became unstable, a rogue flame without a master. Without wasting a second, Jormungandr summoned all his Depravita power and opened his jaws wide, inhaling the lightning and solar fire in one enormous surge.

He turned toward Atila and expelled it all in one colossal beam.

Atila, still reeling, saw the energy coming. Growling, he focused his life force, regaining control over his limbs. With a furious shout, he slashed his chipped sword against the beam, splitting it in half and redirecting the energy into the upper atmosphere. The sky lit up with chaos. Entire clouds vaporized. Aurora-like flares streaked across the horizon.

Despite the explosion, Atila remained standing, but not without wounds. His armor was half-melted. His body trembled. Yet his crimson eyes remained locked on Vlad, filled with something deeper than hatred.

"The Scourge..." he muttered.

Vlad’s brow furrowed. He had never met Atila before, yet the entity knew him enough to utter a strange title. Curious, Vlad extended his psychic senses, probing the nature of Atila’s aura.

A flicker of insight struck him like lightning.

"That’s it. That power... it’s the same one I sensed from the Viking Earl when I freed Freya. But this one... it’s stable. It doesn’t consume him."

Vlad’s eyes narrowed as he reached a grim conclusion.

"He’s one of them. A vessel for the same ruinous forces that infected Valhalla. The same forces now creeping toward the Graecia Empire."

He clenched his sword tighter.

There was no more time for speculation. Only battle.

"Jormungandr!" he called.

The World Snake responded immediately. With a crack of thunder, Jormungandr transformed into pure lightning and surged toward Vlad, piercing into the empty eye socket on his forehead. A fusion took place. Vlad’s form shifted, evolving.

A glowing green eye opened in the center of his forehead. Blue armor rippled across his body, forming an ethereal exoskeleton. Golden spikes erupted from his shoulders, and radiant wings unfurled from his back. Power surged through him—space, life, lightning. His aura could make the firmament tremble.

In an instant, Vlad vanished, only to reappear before Atila with his sword brimming with sunder-force—capable of cutting reality itself.

But Atila didn’t flinch. His own blade ignited once more with solar fury. The two titans clashed again, their swords ringing like divine bells in a cathedral of war. Vlad pushed Atila back with brute strength, the physical might of a True Depravita overpowering the warlord.

But Atila’s skill was uncanny. He twisted midair, spinning around Vlad’s strike and countered with a slash aimed at his waist.

Yet Vlad disappeared through the power of space and reappeared above Atila in the blink of an eye. He brought his sword down with terrifying speed.

Atila growled, raising his sword just in time. The blow didn’t land cleanly, but the force behind it was enough to send Atila crashing into the ground once more, creating a crater large enough to swallow a fortress.

By the time Atila stood up again, the sky was filled with blades—hundreds of them. Each of those swords carried a massive amount of lightning power, and the strength of the Law of Space flowed through their edge, allowing them to pierce anything.

Even for an entity like Atila, if all those swords pierced his body, it would be game over.