Ethan's pupils shrank to pinpricks.

A sharp pain stabbed through his chest—not just from the destruction of his weapon, but from what it meant. The last line of defense had shattered.

He launched backward, trailing a streak of energy behind him.

But Wyrmgod was faster.

The massive figure cleaved through the air like a bolt of lightning, cutting off his escape in an instant.

A wave of heat slammed into him. The air reeked of rust and sulfur.

Ethan could almost taste the blood in the demon's breath.

"Shit."

He cursed under his breath.

No hesitation.

He thrust out his hand and slammed it against the space beside him with everything he had.

Boom—!

A jagged rift tore open.

Light spiraled, and he was yanked into the vortex.

The world flipped.

He crashed down onto a silent plain.

The sky here shimmered with a soft golden hue, the air warm and still—almost peaceful. But Ethan didn't relax for a second.

"Hah… hah…"

He sucked in deep breaths, drawing on his inner reserves to patch the damage from before.

Power slowly flowed back into him. His breathing steadied.

Just as he was about to take a moment—

The air cracked.

Snap—snap—snap—

Another rift split open above him.

A red glow bled through.

And from it, the nightmare returned—Archdemon Wyrmgod, looming and relentless.

"Run? You think you can flee my domain?"

Its laughter scraped like iron hooks across his nerves.

Ethan's fingers trembled, but he didn't back down.

With a sharp motion, he slashed the air again.

Light and shadow flared.

He tore through one dimension after another—

Frozen tundras. Roaring storms. Empty voids.

Until finally—

He dropped into a world of searing light and blistering heat.

Lava churned in every direction.

The air was thick with the sweet tang of combustion.

He landed hard on a slab of molten rock, the heat nearly burning through his boots.

"Goddamn it…"

He muttered, sweat hissing into steam on his skin.

He barely had time to catch his breath before he heard it—a low, gurgling sound beneath him.

The lava was moving.

Not randomly—deliberately. Like it was answering a call.

Then, above the molten field, two figures shimmered into view.

Idra and Auri.

Their spirit forms hovered in the air, glowing with shifting light. Their eyes reflected the fire below.

Ethan froze.

A memory surfaced—sudden and vivid.

They were born from magma.

This was their origin. Their home.

And now—

They reached out their hands.

The lava responded.

Its energy surged upward, drawn to them, purified, absorbed.

Ribbons of molten light coiled around their bodies,

Then slowly, strand by strand, flowed into Ethan.

It was a strange resonance.

Agony and ecstasy tangled together,

Power roared through his veins, wild and overwhelming—like it might tear him apart.

Ethan let out a low grunt, but didn't stop.

He could feel it—his power surging back, swelling with every breath.

Like steel reforged in fire.

Each inhale brought him closer to his peak.

The glow of the magma began to fade.

The world around him dimmed, as if its very life had been drained away.

Idra and Auri hovered above, their forms radiant, their eyes lit with something new.

Ethan slowly lifted his head, feeling the torrent of energy roaring through him.

Then the sky cracked.

A brittle, ominous sound—like glass under pressure.

Fractures spiderwebbed across the heavens, tearing the sky apart.

Crack—crack—crack—!

Flames burst from the rifts, so hot they seemed to scorch the fabric of space itself.

And with them came that voice—familiar, arrogant, and echoing with madness.

"HAHAHAHA—Run? You think there's anywhere you can hide?"

The rift widened. A massive claw, armored in black scales, tore through the edge of reality.

Archdemon Wyrmgod stepped out from the shattered dimension, cloaked in a sea of writhing black fire.

"This is my domain!" it roared, voice ringing like a war drum forged from metal and hate.

"No matter what plane you flee to—I can smell your fear!"

Ethan's eyes snapped open.

He didn't retreat.

The energy inside him surged like a tidal wave.

Auri and Idra's spirit-light flared once more, twin stars diving into his chest.

The air trembled.

A blinding radiance exploded from his body.

All that power—his, theirs, the magma's—converged in the air above him, coalescing into a single shape.

A sword.

It stretched several meters long, its blade a fusion of molten red and spirit green,

As if forged by gods and demons in equal measure.

Ethan vanished in a flash of light.

Reappeared, hand gripping the hilt.

BOOM—!

Raw energy erupted from the blade's edge.

Flames surged. Lava boiled. The air itself tore apart.

Wyrmgod's pupils contracted.

It felt it—undeniable.

That power had multiplied. Several times over.

It growled low in its throat.

But then its gaze dropped to the ground—and froze.

The lava was gone.

The sea of molten energy it had once drawn strength from, the crucible that had rebuilt its body—

Now nothing but ash.

Its breath caught.

Then fury exploded.

"You… you drained my source!"

Black fire surged around it.

Behind the demon, a colossal phantom took shape—a Demonic Wyrm, wings unfurling to blot out the sky.

"DIE!"

The phantom dove, a living missile of destruction, its impact enough to tear through dimensions.

BOOM—!

The world shook.

Ethan raised his sword to meet it.

The two forces collided midair—light and shadow crashing into each other, birthing a storm of annihilation.

The shockwave ripped through the entire plane.

Mountains crumbled. Fire rained from the sky.

And this time—

Wyrmgod was forced back.

Its body slammed into a cliffside, stone and black blood exploding outward.

Ethan didn't let up.

His fury had cooled into something sharper—focused, lethal.

He swung his sword again.

Blades of energy rained from the sky,

Wave after wave,

Like the grinding teeth of a divine storm—

Blanketing the heavens.

BOOM—!

Swordlight clashed with black flame, the sound deafening, the sky torn open.

When the light finally faded—

The demon's massive form was riddled with gashes.

Its shoulder armor shattered, blood pouring like molten metal.

It howled, voice ragged and broken.

But Ethan hovered above, unmoved.

The great sword still burned in his hand.

His eyes were cold as frost.

"You had me on the ropes before," he said quietly.

"Now it's my turn."

...