The battlefield was chaos—screams, roars, magic colliding in flashes of fire, ice, and shadow. But then it all seemed to fade away when Veldora and Varakiel vanished from sight.
All that remained were echoes—
Boom!
Zaaap!
Bammm!
Swoooosh!
The sound of steel and speed so fast that even the Transcendent Demons could barely follow.
Ultima's playful grin faded as she tightened her grip on her opponent's throat. "Tch… I can't even see Lord Veldora right now. That speed… it's insane."
Carrera, slamming her fist through a monster's chest, laughed but her voice held awe. "That's our Lord for ya! He's just getting started!"
Diablo's eyes gleamed red as he drove his hand through a Vorathis soldier, shadows ripping the creature apart. His voice was smooth, calm, but burning with excitement. "I must finish this quickly. Watching Lord Veldora fight… that is a privilege I will not let slip."
Even Guy Crimson, surrounded by monstrous enemies, paused for the briefest second, his crimson eyes narrowing. "Tch… their blades… it's like they're writing poetry with steel."
The fighters could feel it:
Veldora and Varakiel weren't just clashing. They were dancing.
A flash of silver. Then another.
Varakiel lunged first, his blade screaming with cursed energy, the air cracking like thunder as he brought it down. Veldora's sword met it perfectly, sparks bursting like fireworks.
"Not bad," Veldora said calmly, his eyes sharp but his voice relaxed. "But your grip is too heavy. A true swordsman lets the blade breathe."
Varakiel's lips curled into a sinister grin. "Hah. Wise words, Storm King. But words won't save you."
He twisted, his blade splitting into afterimages—six slashes from six angles. The air screamed as each cut tore reality itself.
Zaaap! Ziiip! Bam!
But Veldora moved like flowing water, his body shifting just enough to deflect each strike. His counter came in a flash—one clean horizontal cut so fast the light seemed to bend.
Varakiel barely caught it, the impact rattling the mountains around them.
To the others, the two had disappeared again—only flashes of light and sound marked their path. Diablo tilted his head, forcing his opponent into the dirt with a flick of his hand, whispering almost reverently,
"Even I… cannot follow that completely. Lord Veldora, just how deep does your strength go?"
Milim, smashing a monster into rubble with one punch, actually stopped bouncing around for once, her wide eyes glued to the flashes. "Whoaaa! They're soooo fast! It's like… like when I play tag and no one can keep up! Except scarier!"
Velzard and Velgrynd, both in human form, kept their focus on the battlefield, but their eyes flicked toward the duel constantly.
Velzard's voice was cold, but beneath it was a faint tremor of pride. "That's Veldora for you. Always hiding just how skilled he truly is."
Velgrynd, flames blazing around her, smiled fiercely. "And finally showing it when it matters."
The fight wasn't just power—it was art.
Varakiel spun, his sword weaving patterns of darkness in the air. Each swing carried techniques designed to kill instantly—piercing thrusts that could shatter mountains, sweeping arcs that split the ground into canyons. His footwork was flawless, his body moving with predator-like precision.
But Veldora… Veldora was different. His movements weren't just perfect, they were effortless. He parried strikes that would end most beings in one blow, his blade guiding Varakiel's attacks away like a teacher correcting a student's stance.
"You're strong," Veldora said as their blades locked, his voice calm but firm, "but you rush. You fight as if you must prove something."
Varakiel snarled, pressing forward with more force. "And you fight as if this is a game!"
Veldora smiled faintly, pushing back with just enough power to send Varakiel skidding across the torn earth. "Maybe because I'm enjoying myself."
When Veldora swung his blade, the air itself bent, lightning flickering across the sky. When Varakiel countered, shadows poured from his weapon, swallowing light and sound. Their clash painted the battlefield with a rhythm so sharp, so beautiful, even their enemies paused.
One monster froze mid-lunge at Guy, whispering, "What… what are they?"
Guy smirked, bringing his sword down in a flash of red that split the beast in half. "They're gods with swords, that's what."
Even the demons—Carrera, Ultima, and Testarossa—felt their pride swell as they fought. To serve a being like Veldora… to see him unleash even a fragment of his true power… it made their blood sing.
And still, the duel went on.
Back and forth.
And through it all, Veldora's voice carried steady, wise, and unshaken.
"Varakiel… if this is all you have, then your master has underestimated me."
Varakiel's grin only widened, his eyes glowing with bloodlust. "Then allow me… to show you what true despair feels like."
The battlefield was drenched in chaos—broken skies split apart by crimson lightning, shattered lands burning with abyssal fire, and oceans boiling from the clash of titans. Varakiel, the Transcendent Demon, still stood tall, his body scarred yet his aura thrumming with malignant defiance. But across from him, Veldora no longer seemed like the playful, arrogant dragon king of old. His eyes had hardened, glowing with a wisdom and weight that pressed on every living being present.
The tension tightened, every warrior—from Milim, to Velzard, to Guy himself—holding their breath as the storm dragon finally spoke.
Veldora's voice rolled like thunder, shaking the already broken land:
"Varakiel… enough. This duel has gone on long enough. You've tested my patience, my resolve, and my restraint. But now…it is time this ends."
The air itself trembled at his words. Even the transcendent demons—Diablo, Testarossa, Ultima, Carrera—who had seen countless apocalyptic powers unleashed in the Abyss, fell silent.
Varakiel snarled, his demonic halo cracking with fury.
"You think you can end me, Dragon? I am transcendent. Eternal. Beyond even your kind."
Veldora's lips curved, not in amusement this time, but in something colder. A king's judgment.
"You mistake eternity for indestructibility. And you mistake me… for a dragon that fears what cannot be killed."
With that, Veldora vanished.
No, not vanished—he moved so fast, faster than even Varakiel's transcendent perception could track. One moment he was standing before him, the next his fist collided into Varakiel's chest with such brutal precision that the sound was not thunder, but silence—every vibration swallowed by the sheer force.
The demons gasped. Guy's eyes narrowed.
"That speed… not even I could react to that."
Velzard's breath caught.
"If Veldora struck me with that kind of force… even my ice barrier wouldn't save me."
Milim trembled—not in fear, but in awe.
"So this… this is Veldora power…"
Varakiel staggered back, coughing black ichor, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Impossible…! That blow… shattered my transcendent shield—!"
Veldora raised his hand, and suddenly the air warped around him. Magic symbols burned into reality itself, not the crude circles of human sorcerers but fractal mandalas of cosmic proportion.
Testarossa whispered in awe, voice trembling.
"That's… not magic as we know it. That's dragon sorcery."
From his hand, streams of violet plasma coiled like serpents, compressing into razor-thin threads of destruction. He snapped his fingers—and the threads wove into an expanding net that swallowed Varakiel whole.
The demon screamed as every fiber of his body was cut, crushed, and burned at the same time.
Ultima gasped.
"Even I can't tell… is that elemental, or void magic?!"
Diablo's grin faltered for once.
"…No, it's something far beyond either. It's control. Precision to an atomic degree."
But Veldora wasn't finished.
He surged forward, his fist glowing—not with mere energy, but with concentrated phenomena. Lightning, flame, gravity, void, all folded into one. The sheer density made even the transcendent demons' senses go blind, as if reality itself recoiled from acknowledging it.
Guy hissed under his breath.
"If he hits Varakiel with that… he won't just die. He'll be erased."
And then Veldora struck.
The punch connected—not just with Varakiel's body, but with his very essence. The demon's scream tore through the world as cracks spread across his form, not physical but existential. His body, his aura, his soul—all splintered.
Veldora's voice, calm and regal, cut through the wail:
"Begone, Varakiel. You've entertained me enough."
With a final surge, the punch detonated. Varakiel's form imploded, a collapsing star erased from existence. Only silence remained.
The warriors on the battlefield barely had time to breathe when Veldora's gaze swept across the carnage. The remnants of Vorathis' monstrous legion still writhed, thousands of abyssal abominations devouring everything in reach.
Veldora's wings spread once more. His eyes narrowed.
"Filth of Vorathis… you too shall be cleansed."
The sky blackened as he lifted both hands high.
And then it began.
Above him, the heavens cracked open—not with storm or flame, but with a web of spiraling runes so intricate they looked like the nervous system of creation itself. Each symbol pulsed with impossible precision, aligning like a cosmic machine.
The transcendent demons fell silent. Even Guy's smirk was gone.
Velgrynd whispered, voice quaking:
"…He's rewriting the sky itself…"
The spell blossomed into a storm of crystalline lances of violet light, each one locked onto a single monster, no matter how far, no matter how hidden. Not a single lance strayed—not one wasted.
And then—
SHATTER.
In an instant, the sky rained annihilation. Each monster was struck exactly once, pierced through heart, core, or brain, and turned to ash. The battlefield cleared in less than a breath. Not even a scream was left behind.
Silence. Only the dragon's wings beating above the void.
Every eye turned to him—fearful, reverent, shaken.
Diablo bowed his head slightly, a rare act of respect.
"Magnificent. That… is true sovereignty."
Ultima whispered, lips trembling.
"He killed them all… with no collateral, no stray shot… as if the world itself obeyed his command."
Milim, for the first time in centuries, felt small.
"…If he ever unleashed that spell on me… I wouldn't even exist to feel it."
Guy chuckled darkly, masking unease.
"So this is the true Veldora. A dragon king who plays at foolishness… only to reveal he has been watching, learning, waiting. Hah… terrifying."
And finally, Velzard closed her eyes, a chill creeping through her heart.
"He is not just the Storm Dragon. He is… the King of Calamities."
Veldora descended slowly, his eyes scanning the survivors. His aura softened—not with weakness, but with the poise of a sovereign who had passed judgment.
"The storm has passed," he said, voice deep, calm, absolute.
"Stand tall, for you still draw breath."
But no one—not even the transcendent demons—could shake the weight of what they had witnessed.