CHAPTER 852: XAOS CHAMPIONS VS CORRUPTION GENERALS

While Vlad and Orfry’s duel was by far the most spectacular and destructive clash of the war, it was not the only one upon which the fate of victory balanced. Across the battlefield, the other champions of the Xaos Kingdom fought with equal ferocity, each of them carrying the weight of responsibility like a burning brand in their hearts. The True Depravitas, Overlord, Fang, and the Royal Guards all knew the stakes. There would be no retreat, no surrender—only victory or annihilation.

Ouroboros found himself facing none other than Gengish, the Corruption General clad in jagged armor adorned with the pelts and bones of powerful alien slain beasts. The True Depravita of Greed’s body surged with vitality, every muscle filled with the condensed strength of the countless lifeforms he had consumed over his existence. Energy coursed through his veins, his form sharper and swifter than lightning itself.

He moved like a living blur, the Law of Speed propelling him beyond the limitations of mortal flesh. In his hands, twin daggers gleamed—each one a weapon capable of piercing the defenses of High Legends with a single strike. His movements were impossibly precise, each slash and thrust aimed at vital points, flowing seamlessly with kicks and spins.

Yet Gengish was no lesser predator. Around him shimmered the spectral manifestation of a divine, nightmarish wolf—a phantom of feral majesty and hunger. Though he wielded a massive sword, his attacks felt like the lunging maw of a beast that could swallow the world whole. When Ouroboros’s dagger met Gengish’s blade, the impact roared like a thunderclap. They struck, separated, and struck again, their forms blurring together—daggers flashing, sword cleaving, their legs delivering brutal kicks to ribs, shoulders, and even jaws.

Their duel was like a clash between two mythical beasts, each circling, feinting, and lunging for the other’s throat. One mistake would mean instant death.

Not far from them, Fafnir was locked in combat with the hammer-wielding Corruption General known as William the First. The Depravita of Envy’s body burned with a fusion of fire and light, every movement wreathed in radiant heat and blazing brilliance. Thanks to his Laws and abilities, his endurance was unmatched—even among the True Depravitas. In each of his massive arms, he carried a Legendary shield, their pointed ends forged to pierce armor and shatter bone.

Normally, in close-quarters combat, Fafnir would have held the advantage against nearly anyone. But the sheer weight and raw power behind William’s hammer was unlike anything he had faced before. Even when his shields caught the blows, the force rattled his bones and made his teeth clench.

Still, Fafnir did not fight only on the defensive. His sharp, calculating eyes were always searching for an opening, and whenever he saw one, his shields lashed out like battering rams, each impact echoing with the crunch of breaking bone.

His blazing wings of fire and light clashed repeatedly with William’s dark, jagged wings. Each collision detonated with kinetic force, sending shockwaves that blasted apart nearby clouds and rained embers down on the battlefield below.

At the far end of the sky, another battle raged—a chaotic, whirling struggle of six against one. Fang and the Royal Guards faced the vampiric Corruption General, Tepest. His fighting style was as eerie as it was deadly. Tepest never stayed in one place for long; his form dissolved into a storm of screeching bats, only to reappear inches away from an enemy’s throat, his blade slashing or a spear of coagulated blood hurtling from his hand with enough force to impale a fortress wall.

Fang, the winged T-Rex, took the brunt of Tepest’s direct assaults. His jaws snapped down on blood-spears, shattering them into crimson mist, while his tail and wings lashed out to keep the vampire at bay. The Royal Guards coordinated perfectly with him, pushing themselves to the absolute limit—burning their energy, their stamina, and perhaps even their lives—to open moments for Fang to strike.

Clasius wielded a colossal sword so heavy that each swing cleaved the air itself, forcing Tepest to evade. Roman’s arrows of shadow energy flew so fast they were almost imperceptible, each one curving in mid-air to chase its target. Mirena summoned lightning-laced metallic tornadoes, tearing through Tepest’s swarms of bats like divine scythes. Frank unleashed devastating cannon blasts of fire and molten magma, filling the air with explosive heat. Amara, the assassin, was a phantom in her own right—her shadow manipulation allowing her to vanish and reappear behind Tepest in the blink of an eye, each dagger thrust aimed at his heart.

The six pressed their assault relentlessly, refusing to give the Corruption General even a heartbeat of reprieve.

Meanwhile, on the left flank of the sky battlefield, Freya clashed with Mary. The True Depravita of Lust’s rusted sword rang again and again against Mary’s twin short swords. Freya’s entire body glowed with the energy of her Royal Totems, light flooding her veins, lending her speed that rivaled the wind itself. Her strikes came in elegant arcs, a blur of steel and light.

But Mary’s footwork was perfect, her movements unnervingly graceful for such a macabre figure. She seemed always a half-step ahead of Freya—evading, countering, and slipping past the rusty blade to land deep, bleeding cuts along Freya’s arms and sides. At first, it seemed Mary had complete control of the duel.

That changed as the fight dragged on. Freya’s eyes grew sharper, her movements more precise. Her true advantage lay in her Depravita power—the ability to capture the essence of her opponent’s abilities, whether they were physical, energetic, or spiritual, and make them her own. Every exchange, every dodge, every parry she witnessed became hers as well. Slowly, she was absorbing Mary’s battle skill, stacking it atop her own formidable technique.

The change was palpable. With each clash, Freya’s counters became faster, her strikes sharper. Mary, for the first time, began to give ground.

These battles between the Legends of the Xaos Kingdom and the Corruption Generals were nothing short of apocalyptic. The sky was their arena, and each collision of power split the heavens, scattering clouds and shaking the earth. But even with their lives on the line, every warrior—on both sides—couldn’t help but cast fleeting glances toward the true center of the storm.

There, locked in the most brutal and high-stakes fight of all, were Atila and Overlord.

The dark knight of solar inferno against the cold, calculating strategist of the Xaos Kingdom.