CHAPTER 847: MOVES BEYOND THE FIGHT

"BOOM!"

"BOOM!"

"BOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

Kinetic explosions tore through the skies of the Oniris Continent, shaking the firmament and cracking the air itself as Vlad and Orfry resumed their relentless clash. With every passing second, their battle grew more ferocious, more primal—two monstrous powers colliding with enough force to reshape the continent.

Vlad was a blur of motion, wielding a blade with lightning, soaked in the essence of destruction, and sharpened by the Law of Space. His every swing fractured the sky, slicing rifts into the very fabric of reality. Orfry countered with grotesque mastery—his arms, massive amalgamations of flesh, muscle, bone, and metal, moved with the power of a living siege engine.

The True Depravita of Wrath and the entity moved so fast that even Legends’ eyes couldn’t follow, their strikes turning clouds into vapor and sound into static. Each blow aimed not to wound, but to kill.

Vlad’s sword carved gashes into Orfry’s body, leaving trails of scorched flesh and flickering tendrils of void-light. Orfry responded in kind, his massive fists and clawed hands landing crushing blows on Vlad’s chest and shoulders, cracking bones and rupturing organs.

After several hours of fighting came the most vicious clash yet. Vlad spun midair, blade glowing like a star, and slashed downward in a motion that could split mountains. Orfry roared, caught the strike with one armored forearm, and used the other to deliver a counterblow so brutal it sent Vlad hurtling backward, blood spraying across the sky.

Orfry immediately followed after Vlad, but just as he was about to strike, the True Depravita of Wrath regained control over his body and released a massive blast of lightning. The attack engulfed Orfry and sent him flying away.

Finally, the duo in the air, panting, bleeding, yet unrelenting. The wounds they had inflicted upon each other were deep—too deep. Their regeneration, once immediate, was now slowing, especially in Vlad’s body.

Orfry exhaled sharply, his monstrous chest rising and falling. He had slightly underestimated Vlad. Only two Eyes of Sin shone on the warrior’s forehead, yet he had pushed Orfry to the limit. The realization struck like ice in his gut. If this continued, he might actually lose.

It was time to call for reinforcements.

But Orfry didn’t consider it seeking help. Those who had received his dark gift—those who had mutated into horrors at his command—were extensions of himself. Calling upon them was simply activating other limbs.

He reached out with his mind, intent on summoning his legion that was in the midst of mutating all the continents under the control of the Zanis Family.

And then, something went wrong.

A pulse of confusion struck him like a slap. Silence answered his mental call. He tried again, pushing harder, extending his consciousness across the world—but there was nothing. No link. No response.

No monsters.

Before this moment, the battle had demanded everything from him. Every ounce of attention, every moment of awareness had to remain locked on Vlad—because a single mistake would’ve meant death. But now, in this moment of calm, he realized the truth.

His connection to his forces was gone.

One reason would be that his forces had all been wiped out, but that would be impossible. Ridiculous. Absurd. But what else could it be? It was not very hard to understand that the reason for all this was Vlad’s blocking his signals, but why?.

"He is trying to stop me from summoning reinforcements?" It seemed the most reasonable explanation.

But it was too simple.

Too shallow.

Something else was in play—something much larger. And he wasn’t seeing it. Orfry’s mind raced. As an ancient entity that had devoured and absorbed the knowledge of gods, titans, and devils alike, he was not one to miss details. And he certainly wasn’t one to be outmaneuvered.

Then it clicked.

His eyes blazed with sudden enlightenment, and a rare flicker of barely restrained rage contorted his face. He stared at Vlad, and in a guttural growl filled with hatred and awe, he screamed.

"YOU!"

Vlad, floating midair, bleeding but steady, saw the shift in Orfry’s expression and smiled.

"You’re quick to learn," he said coldly. "But it doesn’t matter. It’s already too late to stop what’s coming."

A second later, Vlad’s form shimmered and vanished, blazing across the sky like a meteor falling to the earth, his figure disappearing into the distance.

Orfry clenched his fists, but he didn’t give chase.

Not because he didn’t want to—he wanted nothing more than to crush the man who had managed to wound him in battle and now outmaneuvered him in war—but because he needed to understand just how much he had lost.

Once Vlad was far enough away, the jamming effect of the A.I. Chip finally faded, and Orfry’s mental links returned.

But what he heard then was worse than silence.

Voices flooded in from across the globe.

During the hours he and Vlad had fought in the skies above Oniris, the Xaos Kingdom had launched a massive campaign with surgical precision. With unstoppable momentum and superhuman coordination, they had struck down across the territories under Orfry’s control.

Two of the nine continents governed by the Zanis Family had already fallen.

Every abomination within them—dead.

The populations had been saved. Cities liberated. The monsters purged.

And those two continents?

They bordered Oniris.

Vlad hadn’t simply isolated Orfry during their fight.

He’d trapped him.

Oniris was now surrounded on all sides by Xaos-controlled territory. There would be no reinforcements. The continent would fall. It was only a matter of time.

But there was more.

The six continents still under Orfry’s control had only one viable path to reach enemy land. All other routes were blocked. Their armies would be forced to march through a single, narrow bottleneck—a perfect kill zone. A slaughter trap.

Orfry trembled for a second, the rage and hatred inside his soul so intense that it twisted his figure, his face rupturing as he could not hold onto this humanoid form anymore. However, just as it seemed he would fall into madness, peace arose in his eyes, and he simply rose into the air and flew out of the continent.