CHAPTER 851: VLAD VS ORFRY - FINAL CLASH

Orfry’s confident smile faltered for the briefest of moments as his gaze locked on the runes that pulsed along Vlad’s body. They shimmered with the power of the world itself, each line glowing like molten silver, drawing upon the radiance of the stars in the void. That light was not just for show—it condensed Vlad’s aura until it was dense and razor-sharp, like a blade honed to perfection. The sheer pressure of it pressed against the air between them.

Yet Orfry’s confidence soon returned. His eyes narrowed, and with a sickening, visceral motion, his arms began to twist and morph. Flesh split. The muscle bulged. Bone shifted. Metal tore its way out from under skin, fusing with sinew and nerve until his arms had transformed into monstrous pillars of raw strength—an unholy fusion of organic and mechanical power.

Vlad could feel Hyperion’s energy surging within him, amplifying his strength, sharpening his senses, and flooding his body with vitality. However, he did not let the boost make him complacent. He remembered all too clearly the overwhelming might of the being before him. His grip on his sword tightened until his knuckles whitened, lightning crackling along the blade’s length. Space itself warped faintly around its edge, the power of the void blending with the rage burning in his heart. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, each pulse pushing oceans of wrathful energy through his veins.

For a long, tense moment, silence reigned. Vlad and Orfry locked eyes, each measuring the other, both predators in the instant before the pounce. Then—faster than the eyes could follow—they moved.

Sword met claw.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!"

The clash rang out like a world-shattering bell.

The shockwave blasted outward in all directions, rattling the clouds and sending a rippling quake through the sky. That single collision marked the start of the final stage of the war for Exilon.

"BOOOOOOOMMMMM!"

"BOOOOOOOMMMMM!"

"BOOOOOOOMMMMM!"

"BOOOOOOOMMMMM!"

"BOOOOOOOMMMMM!"

One after another, more thunderous detonations echoed as the other Legendary-tier warriors clashed. Each pair of combatants exploded into motion, the sky igniting with every color of destructive power—violet flames, golden lightning, arcs of blood-red energy slicing through the wind. The air itself screamed under the strain.

From below came the answering roar of the enemy horde. Abominations, skeletal beasts, and twisted monstrosities bellowed with sounds torn from the depths of nightmares. Their cries shook the mountain range as they surged forward, a tide of slaughter incarnate. The murderous intent radiating from their ranks was so intense that it condensed into a visible miasma—thick, dark red fog that rolled over the foothills. To the defenders atop the mountains, it looked as though a bloody ocean was rising to swallow them whole.

And yet, the Xaos soldiers did not flinch. Their eyes were hard, their jaws set. With disciplined precision, they unleashed every weapon at their disposal. Beams of light, streams of fire, and bolts of lightning rained down into the horde. The warriors of the Rebellion fought with equal fervor, channeling their power into the towering energy constructs spread across the defensive line.

The moment the towers reached critical charge, they unleashed volleys of blinding destruction—massive lances of flame and arcs of lightning that tore through the monsters’ ranks. Each strike felled dozens, burning through flesh, bone, and corrupted soul alike. In the span of seconds, thousands of enemies fell to ash under the combined bombardment.

But there were millions more.

The tide never stopped. The abominations trampled over the charred remains of their own kind, their sheer numbers ensuring that no amount of slaughter could halt the advance. Soon, they reached the base of the mountain range and began their climb. The ascent stretched for thousands of meters, but the defenders knew they would reach the top. The only question was: how many of them would still be alive when they did?

Vlad was aware of the ground situation—he knew how fragile the balance was, how a single misstep anywhere could doom the entire defense. But he had no luxury to spare attention for anything beyond the monster before him.

His eyes narrowed as one of Orfry’s massive, mutated arms blurred toward him, moving with such overwhelming force that the sky itself seemed to twist in its wake. The blow was too fast to avoid entirely, so Vlad shifted his body just enough to turn a killing strike into a glancing one. His sword flashed, meeting the attack with a sharp, metallic cry. Sparks exploded, and the sheer kinetic force of the impact ignited streams of flame in the surrounding air. Using his speed and precision, Vlad diverted the strike away from his body, narrowly saving himself.

Without hesitation, he pivoted, letting the full momentum of his movement coil through his muscles before snapping his leg up in a vicious kick aimed at Orfry’s face.

Orfry’s frown deepened. Even with only a single Eye of Sin open on his forehead, Vlad was matching him blow for blow without yielding ground. But Orfry’s combat instincts were as honed as his strength. Before Vlad’s kick could land, the bone and metal plating along his shoulder erupted outward, forming a jagged barrier.

"BOOOOOOM!"

The sound of the impact was like a cannon blast. Vlad’s kick had power enough to crater mountains, but the improvised armor held, protecting Orfry. In the same instant, Orfry twisted his body, regaining perfect balance. Both his palms snapped forward.

In each hand, a grotesque, fanged maw tore open—jaws leading not into flesh, but into a churning void of negative energy. Vlad recognized the technique at once: Orfry’s infamous hand cannons. But this time, he was ready.

His grip tightened on the sword’s hilt, and he poured every ounce of Hyperion’s celestial might into its blade. Starlight and lightning danced together in furious harmony, the power of space warping the air around the tip. Vlad leveled the sword forward.

The two unleashed their attacks in the same heartbeat.

"BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"

A cannon of pure darkness collided with a spear of radiant starlight. The impact gave birth to a massive, blazing sphere of flaming lightning, swallowing both combatants in its roaring heart.

Gasps erupted from those watching, their faces lit by the hellish glow. Even from thousands of meters away, the heat seared their skin. This was destruction at a scale that could incinerate High Legends outright.

And yet—through the churning inferno—two figures emerged.

Both Vlad and Orfry were wreathed in flames, their armor scorched, their skin marked by burns already knitting shut under the force of their regeneration. Without a pause, they lunged at each other again.

Blow after blow fell, each one more vicious than the last. The force of their strikes shook the very air, clouds splitting and swirling into spirals above them. Energy surged with each exchange, brighter, hotter, more violent, until they fought at the very peak of the sky—two titans of destruction standing above the world, locked in a battle from which only one would walk away.