The battle between Uriel and Jerom was a moving cataclysm. Two forces of pure darkness clashed again and again, their impacts generating shockwaves that reshaped the landscape as they passed. There was no mercy, no respite; only the relentless fury of two beings who refused to yield.
They moved continuously from one place to another, covering hundreds of kilometers over the course of their confrontation. The mountains surrounding the city of Doom witnessed their fury. Uriel, with his sword shining like a beacon of darkness, launched an attack that split a mountaintop, while Jerom responded with a slash that opened a chasm in the ground that stretched for miles.
The terrain became a chaos of broken rocks and smoking craters. Trees were uprooted, and rivers were diverted from their courses. Their pure elemental clash destroyed entire sections of the mountain, reducing ancient peaks to rubble in seconds.
Then they took their fight into the darkness.
They delved into the shadows, into that intermediate plane where reality became malleable and physics ceased to make sense. Uriel, feeling the freedom of that space, changed his form. His body expanded, twisted, transformed into some kind of cosmic horror.
Hundreds of hands emerged from his form, each with claws that could tear through reality. Tendrils of darkness extended in all directions, and fangs of solid shadow bit the air with insatiable hunger. It was a form that had no name, because no mortal being could comprehend its true nature.
Jerom, upon seeing this transformation, did not hold back. His sword cut through everything that came near him, and in turn, he attacked with slashes of pure darkness that could rend souls. The cuts were so deep that even darkness itself seemed to bleed.
During that clash, they were thrown far from that plane. They emerged in a different location, where daylight shone intensely. The contrast was brutal; they went from absolute darkness to a clear sky and a blazing sun.
Jerom, adapting to the new environment, changed his form.
A thunderous roar shook the sky as Jerom transformed. His body lengthened, expanded, becoming an enormous monstrous leviathan several kilometers long and hundreds of meters wide. He was wrapped in absolute, shifting darkness, as if his very skin were a perpetual night. His scales gleamed with a sinister luster, and his mouth, open in an eternal roar, could swallow entire mountains.
Uriel, in response, chose another form.
Darkness condensed around him, taking the form of a titanic stone saint. The figure was imposing, sculpted like an ancient deity, with severe features and eyes that blazed with the fury of a thousand dark suns. He created hundreds of gigantic spears of darkness that pierced the sky and embedded themselves in the leviathan's body.
The clash of power and will was devastating. The earth trembled, the sky darkened, and the sun itself seemed to falter in its course. When their attacks collided, the terrain was destroyed, leaving nothing but ruins.
They reached the ruins of an ancient city. A hidden citadel, forgotten by time, where Uriel felt the presence of a great tyrant. The entity, awakened by the chaos of their battle, launched itself at them with primitive fury.
It was annihilated in an instant.
There was no resistance, no struggle. The great tyrant, who had ruled those ruins for millennia, was erased from existence by the mere clash of their powers. The city it had protected was completely devastated, and everything within it perished.
Uriel felt a chill upon seeing the destruction they were causing, but he couldn't stop. Jerom would give him no quarter.
Again, both delved into the darkness. This time, their battle was more frenetic. Jerom constantly alternated his form and combat methods, trying to confuse Uriel with his unpredictability. But Uriel also changed, adapting, evolving mid-combat.
It was a dance of death in which both constantly surpassed each other.
When they emerged from the darkness, they did so from a deep abyss. Light barely reached that place, but Uriel could see his reflection in the abyss: he no longer had a defined form.
Uriel was now darkness itself.
The formless form of the void manifested as an enormous, vast, deep ocean of true darkness. Countless eyes opened and closed on its surface, each observing a different angle of reality. Huge mouths opened and closed, devouring light and hope. Claws and tentacles emerged and retracted, ready to strike at any moment.
It was an entity that should not exist, a living contradiction of reality.
Jerom, for his part, had transformed into an aberrant entity: a mixture of dragon, lion, bear, and bull. A true chimera, each part of his body a different predator. His dragon wings beat storms, his lion claws tore through darkness, his bear hide was impenetrable, and his bull horns could split mountains.
Their clash generated powerful shockwaves that shook the abyss. Darkness itself writhed under the force of their collision, and the echo of their battle resonated across realms that no mortal could ever reach.
From the abyss, their battle moved to another place.
They emerged in a death zone, a desolate wasteland where life could barely survive. Uriel recognized the place: it was the territory of the Fire Guardians, and in the distance, he saw the demon's tower of hope, now a symbol of hope for the survivors.
Using one of his countless eyes, he observed the scene. The nightmare creatures that had been besieging the area were crushed or fell dead from his mere presence. His will to end them was so absolute that reality itself bent to his desire.
He also saw Estrella Cambiante, her face frozen in an expression of disbelief. The Fire Guardians, who had witnessed countless horrors in their long existence, were paralyzed by what they saw. Their eyes were wide open, unable to process the scale of the battle unfolding before them.
Uriel felt the weight of their gazes. He knew that if they continued the fight in that place, everyone present would die. The mere shockwave of their next clash would be enough to erase the tower and all its defenders.
It was a decision he had to make in fractions of a second.
"Jerom!" Uriel roared, his voice resonating on multiple frequencies. "Not here! There are innocents!"
"I don't care!" Jerom responded, his chimera form roaring with fury. "Everyone must die!"
Uriel felt the darkness stir within him. He knew he couldn't allow more innocents to die. But he also couldn't let Jerom escape.
So he made a decision.
With a titanic effort, he enveloped Jerom's form with his darkness and dragged him back into the depths. They submerged into the darkness, traveling tens of thousands of kilometers in seconds. The speed was such that reality itself distorted in their wake.
When they emerged, they were at God Grave.
The gigantic ribs of the divine corpse rose before them, eternal witnesses of a forgotten battle. Uriel recognized the place: they were at the center of the ribs, directly beneath the nameless temple, where the incarnation of Sunny, the lord of shadows, resided.
He felt a familiar presence in that place, an echo of Sunny's power, but he couldn't afford to be distracted. Jerom was here, and he needed to defeat him.
Here, there were only nightmare creatures and enough space to fight. Uriel didn't have to worry about collateral damage, so he continued his battle without restrictions.
The forms changed constantly. Uriel shifted from being an ocean of darkness to a titan of shadows, from a storm of tentacles to a storm of blades. Jerom responded in kind, his chimera form mutating into even more terrifying beasts.
The landscape of God Grave was continuously reshaped. The ribs of the divine corpse trembled under the impact of their attacks, and the ground became covered with craters that smoked with residual darkness. Countless nightmare creatures died under the clash of both, their bodies disintegrating in the shockwave.
Jerom was losing.
Uriel could feel it. The Sword of True Darkness, fused with his being, consumed his enemy's darkness with each blow. Every cut weakened Jerom, absorbed his power, left him more vulnerable.
Jerom roared with rage and attacked in desperation. His claws tore at Uriel's form, and his breath of darkness bit into the shadow lord's essence. But Uriel didn't flinch. His formless form absorbed the attacks and returned them multiplied.
"Damn you!" Jerom shouted, his voice distorted by fury. "I won't allow a mortal to defeat me!"
But he was being weakened. Every second that passed, the Sword of True Darkness consumed more of his essence. His form began to destabilize, his attacks losing strength.
Cornered, Jerom made a desperate decision. He delved into the darkness, trying to escape to some realm where he could regenerate.
But Uriel wouldn't allow it.
"Not this time," he whispered, and followed him.
They plunged into the depths of darkness, into that bottomless abyss where reality crumbled and concepts lost their meaning. Uriel pursued Jerom like a relentless hunter, his essence spreading like a net to catch his prey.
Jerom tried to change direction, tried to lose himself in the immensity of darkness. But Uriel was always there, always one step ahead.
"Do you know what the difference is between us?" Uriel asked, his voice resonating in the darkness. "You fear the darkness. You use it as a disguise, but deep down, you're terrified of losing yourself in it."
"Shut up!" Jerom roared.
"I, on the other hand," Uriel continued, "have accepted it. I am the darkness. I don't use it as a tool, I am it. And as long as I exist, there is nowhere you can hide."
At that moment, Uriel caught Jerom. His darkness enveloped his enemy, consuming him, absorbing him. The Sword of True Darkness blazed with intensity, devouring the invader's essence.
"No!" Jerom screamed, his voice fading. "It can't end like this! I am immortal! I am eternal!"