CHAPTER 273: CHAPTER 274: VS

"Say farewell..."

Atlas’s voice bled through the air as he began to rise. His figure drifted upward, swallowed by the trembling shadows that trailed him like loyal specters.

The words were soft, yet they struck with the weight of an executioner’s hammer, echoing in Orcus’s ears until they felt carved into his skull.

Farewell.

The word alone carried a gravity that unsettled him. Farewell to what? Farewell to who?

"What do you mean...?" Orcus’s voice trembled—not with fear, but with the strange unease of a man who felt the ground shift beneath his empire.

For once, Atlas did not smile. No mocking curve of lips, no sharp grin he wore like a crown in times of battle. His golden eyes only burned with something heavier. Older. Unforgiving.

"Say farewell to your... masterpiece," he muttered.

The air split.

Doom!

A sound—not the clean crack of a supersonic burst, but the howl of carnage itself. Not wind born of speed, but a rupture, a judgment tearing its way through the air. The pressure alone ripped apart the shadows clinging to Orcus, blowing them into tattered wisps. The Demon King staggered, eyes widening as he was flung back into the stone walls.

He smashed through one room, then another, debris swallowing him as if the castle itself rejected him.

Atlas, on the other hand, soared higher—breaking ceiling after ceiling, his body carving through stone and marble.

Crack.

Crack.

Crake.

Until—

Boom!

The final ceiling gave way, releasing him into the storm-wrapped sky. The clouds swirled thick with ash and smoke, lit with red fissures of lightning that licked the heavens. For one heartbeat, Atlas hung there, suspended in silence, golden eyes piercing the endless dark.

He knew. Orcus was not the type to crumble under a single blow. This wasn’t a battle to win—it was a battle to make felt. To engrave into the marrow. His strike could not merely land; it had to judge, condemn, shatter.

His hand curled into a fist. The bones groaned, skin tightening until mana bled through every pore, coating him in a steel-like sheen.

Iron Fist.

Doom!

He dropped like a meteor. The clouds split, fleeing his descent, gravity bending around his momentum. His body was no longer flesh—it was a verdict cast in steel and flame.

Doom! Doom! Doom!

Three sonic booms carved through the atmosphere, sound barriers shattering like brittle glass. His fist glowed with raw mana, trembling under its own density.

In seconds, he pierced back through the ruins of the ceilings he’d once broken, the castle’s broken bones flashing past him. There—

Orcus. Rising from rubble, shadows wrapping his form in trembling waves.

But Atlas wasn’t alone.

Veil’s presence slipped in like a whisper through the dark, her spectral arm snapping around Orcus’s throat. The shadow king was lifted, forced to present his cheek like an executioner’s block.

Atlas’s lips curled into the faintest grin. "Noice."

Booooom!

The fist connected.

The impact was cataclysm. A wave of destruction rolled outward, so powerful even Atlas himself was hurled to the side, skidding across collapsing towers.

Orcus had no such grace. Pain roared through his jaw as bone tore free from its place, his body a ragdoll hurled downward. He plummeted through layers of castle stone, through the earth itself, until the mountain cradling his kingdom cracked open like a dying beast.

The castle—his masterpiece, his symbol—groaned.

Then split.

Half of it exploded outward, marble and obsidian raining in massive chunks. Towers toppled into the city below, crushing streets, markets, temples.

Panic followed.

"What’s happening?! What is our king doing?!"

"Run—just run!"

Screams bled through the smoke as demons and beastkin scattered. Mothers clutched children. Merchants abandoned their stalls. The streets once gilded with banners were now rivers of dust and terror.

Above, the sky shuddered with every residual boom, like a god pounding on the heavens.

Orcus groaned from within the mountain’s broken belly. His jaw dangled, hanging loose. With one hand, he grabbed, shoved—

Crack!

The bone slid back into place. His teeth clenched, blood foaming from his lips.

"...That hurt. That hurt bad," he muttered, his words garbled, half spit, half complaint. He spoke to the shadow still loyal to him, slinking back into his frame. "I thought you contained him."

{I did...} the shadow’s voice wavered, trembling in a tone shadows should not have. {He broke through my darkness. And... he has someone like me.}

Orcus froze. "...That’s rare."

{Yes. Every realm holds only one. Which means... he’s either of the mortal plane, the heavens... or something far worse.}

Blood trailed down Orcus’s chin. He spat, crimson splattering the shattered rocks. "Then this needs to end. Now."

He crouched low. His muscles tensed, the ground beneath him fracturing—

Boom!

He shot upward, bursting free from the mountain’s torn chest. He rose back into the broken heart of his castle. His eyes scanned the ruins, his fury igniting. The empire he had built—stone by stone, soul by soul—lay in ruin. One punch. Just one punch had torn everything down.

And there Atlas hovered, framed by dust and smoke, his voice a scythe.

"...I told you. Say your farewell."

He vanished.

Orcus had no time to think. Mana surged into his fist, swelling it larger, heavier, until it dwarfed his arm. Their fists collided mid-air—

Boom!

The castle couldn’t withstand. The foundation split, ground cracking as Orcus was forced onto a surviving pillar, breath ragged. The world beneath him was falling.

Atlas stood on a fractured column across from him, black hair whipping wild in the wind, golden eyes glowing brighter than fire. His arms folded casually, but his presence—immovable.

"...I don’t know about you," Atlas said, "but your city. Will. Not. Survive."

Orcus’s gaze darted outward, over the broken walls, over the screaming citizens. The fury inside him boiled.

"I was right," he spat, voice trembling with wrath. "You and Aurora are the same—reigning chaos. They call us demon kings. Destroyers of worlds. False titles forged by cowards. Yet here you stand—destroying mine!"

He vanished—zapping forward with desperate speed. His shoulder slammed into Atlas’s gut.

Atlas’s body folded from the blow, his stomach caving as the air shot from his lungs. The impact hurled them both out of the collapsing city.

Atlas saw the ruins blur behind him, a flicker of relief cutting through his pain. At least the people wouldn’t be buried in the next clash.

Orcus drove him down, growling: "This would all end if you summoned Aurora. But you won’t..."

His fist slammed into Atlas’s back, hurling him into the sulfur-stained mountains.

The land here was barren, stripped of life, the air burning with acid. Nothing but dead stone, dry wind, and the stink of sulfur.

Atlas rose, blood dripping from his lip. His mana surged, fist trembling once more.

"If you just listened!!" His roar cracked the sky as he dove.

Boom!

But his strike froze.

Orcus caught his fist.

{{That shit won’t work twice,}} his voice snarled, guttural, inhuman. Horns tore through his helmet, twisting upward like a grotesque crown. His eyes blazed crimson, body exuding not mortal mana, but the raw stink of Hell itself.

{{Now taste this.}}

The punch came swift, invisible.

Atlas barely saw it. He had defended against countless strikes, countless foes, yet this—this was different.

The fist crushed into his face, snapping his nose with a sickening crack. The force hurled him across the barren land, his ears ringing, his mind numbing, a bell tolling in his skull.

He smashed into a distant mountain, stone splintering, dust erupting. His body carved a canyon through the rock, his momentum carrying him until—silence.

The world blurred. Darkness pressed in, vision swimming. He saw only a faint light bleeding through the void.

He spat blood. The iron taste clung to his tongue, metallic and bitter.

"...That was... something." His voice cracked, thin but alive. His body throbbed, bones aching, vision unsteady. Yet—his lips curved.

A smile. Bloody, jagged.

"Okay... this is gonna be fun."

His teeth gleamed red in the dark.