The first Demon Commander lunged at Azrael.

His claws glowed with compressed fire essence, enough to melt the hull of a warship.

But before his strike could land, the space between them folded.

The blow hit nothing.

A faint hum echoed, and behind him, the void shivered.

Azrael appeared like a ghost of shadow and flame, his black wings unfurled, his sword a streak of silver-black light.

“Too slow.”

Space around the demon collapsed into spiraling corrosive spheres, folding inward like miniature implosions.

The Demon Commander screamed, his essence breaking apart as the void itself devoured him.

For centuries, Azrael had sparred against Veythar himself, surviving where few could.

Every strike carried millennia of instinct, every fold of space honed to a razor’s edge.

The other four Demon Commanders hesitated for only an instant before joining in.

Their combined domains tore the void apart as they encircled him.

Lightning, shadow, corrosion, and gravity converged from all sides.

Azrael’s wings swept wide, space fragmenting into thousands of shards that deflected the barrage.

He twisted, his blade carving through a shadow tendril and bisecting the demon who wielded it.

Corrosion ate through the corpse before it could even drift away.

“Two down,” Azrael murmured.

Above, the Formation shifted.

Its energy focused not on offense now, but on balance.

Space nodes stabilized the shattered regions of the void.

Life essence flowed through the wounded soldiers, mending torn armor and broken bones.

Fire essence flared across the perimeter, holding the swarm of lesser demons at bay.

Aurelia moved in sync with it, her space domain weaving through Azrael’s, anchoring the battlefield so he didn’t spread too thin.

When his corrosive implosions destabilized the void, she restored equilibrium.

She was calm, elegant, the mirror to his brutality.

Together, they turned chaos into rhythm.

On the frontlines with lesser demons, the clash was merciless.

The Origin Clan’s SSS-rank army fought shoulder to shoulder, blades and essence flashing in the void.

Thomas and Elara stood among them, back to back, moving as one.

Thomas’s flames burst in sweeping arcs, annihilating squads of demons.

Elara’s light essence wove between his attacks, cutting incoming strikes, shielding the wounded, blinding the demons who charged too close.

Every motion was practiced, unspoken, two warriors who had lived and bled together.

Still, the demons came in waves, endless, unrelenting.

Thomas gritted his teeth. “They don’t stop—”

Elara turned, eyes flashing. “Then neither do we!”

Another demon lunged, claws drenched in essence.

Thomas burned it alive, but his flames faltered, his essence half spent.

He looked at the stellar fight raging above.

He saw Azrael dancing through a storm of Stellars, wings carving paths through gravity and lightning.

He saw Aurelia redirecting destruction like an artist painting with light.

And above them… the formation itself, its runes of flame burning pure and absolute, fighting not just to protect, but to destroy.

The knowledge sphere that he got from Adrian stirred within his mind.

The dormant comprehension lying buried within him awoke.

All the fragments, all the patterns that never clicked… suddenly, they did.

For a heartbeat, the battlefield faded.

There was no sound, no war, just fire.

It flickered deep within his chest.

Not destruction. Not rage.

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Conviction.

A flame that had never gone out, the will to stand, again and again, no matter how many times the world tried to crush him.

The flame roared.

A surge of essence burst from him, bright as a newborn star.

His domain ignited, a field of pure flame that swept across the battlefield, burning through every demon within miles, but sparing his allies.

The lesser demons screamed, their bodies turning to ash before they could even comprehend what had happened.

From the central tower, Varik gasped. “Thomas… he—he’s—”

“Stellar,” Selena whispered beside him, her golden tattoos glowing faintly in response.

Adrian stood at the window, watching his father’s ascension.

Pride swelled in his chest.

Elara stood near Thomas, tears in her eyes. “You ascended…”

She didn’t need to say more.

Thomas turned to her, flames dancing across his shoulders, and grinned. “Took me long enough.”

Draven let out a bark of laughter from across the void. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, I’ve been SSS-rank for millennia, and this kid just waltzes into Stellar like it’s nothing!”

His laughter carried over the comms, lifting morale.

The army rallied, emboldened by the sight of Thomas’s blazing ascension.

Kael’s voice crackled through. “Maybe if you stopped complaining and started comprehending—”

“Shut it, space boy!”

Even Lucian, silent as ever, tilted his head in acknowledgment.

With Thomas as the third Stellar, the Origin forces surged.

Azrael and Aurelia held back the remaining Stellar Demons, their domains intertwining in perfect synchronization.

Thomas led the charge against the SSS ranks, his flames incinerating entire squads with each sweep of his hand.

The battlefield tilted.

The Origin Army pressed forward, the tide reversing.

…

On the demon flagship, Kraxis smiled.

Bloodlust coiled through him, his eyes glowing deep red. Watching his army falter did not anger him, it excited him.

He whispered, “A newly ascended Stellar… and he thinks himself immortal.”

He rose from his throne, his massive frame casting shadows across the bridge. The lesser demons around him cowered instinctively.

“Let’s see how he burns when I snuff him out myself.”

In a single step, he vanished.

A pulse of darkness swept across the battlefield as he shadow stepped, his dual essences of Fire and Shadow fusing into one.

He appeared before Thomas in the void, grinning.

Thomas barely had time to register the Demon Lord’s arrival before the oppressive aura of two essences crashed down on him.

“Congratulations, fledgling. Allow me to show you how fire should truly burn.”

A sphere of condensed fire formed in his palm, flaring brighter than a sun, and he hurled it forward.

The blast streaked across the void, leaving a scorched trail through space itself. Aurelia saw it, but she was too far, her domain stretched thin across the battlefield.

Elara screamed, powerless, her light essence unable to reach in time.

Thomas’s eyes widened. His newly formed domain flickered, too fragile to withstand the impact.

And then—

Light.

A white silhouette appeared between them, serene, unhurried.

White, silent, and absolute.

Adrian.

His Source Form stood between Thomas and death, his body a shifting canvas of white-grey energy that bent the void around him.

He raised his hand, catching Kraxis’s attack casually, the sphere of stellar fire spinning harmlessly in his palm.

The flames that should have annihilated a continent dimmed, tamed by the touch of Source itself.

He looked down at it.

Rolled it between his fingers like a toy.

And flicked it back.

The sphere shot backward, multiplied in speed and intensity, its essence compressed beyond what Kraxis had created.

It smashed into Kraxis before he could even react. The explosion ripped through the void, shredding half his armor and scorching his flesh.

He was thrown backward, roaring in the void, blood streaming from a dozen wounds.

The battlefield fell silent.

Every essence seed, demon, Stellar, SSS-rank, trembled.

The void itself warped around Adrian in reverence, space bending as if kneeling before him.

The lesser demons froze mid-lunge, their roars strangled into silence. Their bodies locked, limbs refusing to obey, as if existence itself commanded them to stop.

The remaining Stellar Commanders stumbled, unable to move, as if their seeds refused to act.

Even Azrael felt it, that impossible gravity pressing down on him. His wings folded involuntarily.

Adrian stepped forward through the void.

Each footstep warped space, creating ripples.

Even the stars dimmed, their light drawn toward him as if he were the center of all things.

The demons retreated instinctively, though none had the will to understand why. Their bodies moved without thought, driven by primal terror.

Only Origin’s army, Aurelia, Azrael, Thomas stood unaffected, their essence aligned through familiarity, not fear.

Adrian’s voice cut through the stillness.

“Who permitted you… to step foot in my Origin Capital?”

There was not a bit of emotion in it, no rage, no fury. Just a simple question that carried the weight of absolute authority.

Kraxis straightened, his grin returning, darker, wilder.

Pain seemed to fuel him rather than weaken him. His shadow essence coiled around his wounds, sealing them.

“Interesting,” he growled. “Even my seed shudders before you. Then, breaking you will taste even sweeter.”

He spread his arms wide, his laughter booming through the void. “Permission? I take what I want! Your clan, your cities, your star, I’ll drown them all in blood!”

He lifted his hand, signaling his fleet.

The demon ships opened their hulls. Thousands, no, tens of thousands of demons spilled forth, blotting the stars, their combined essence turning the void black.

Each one a warrior, each one SSS-rank, their roars creating a cacophony that shook the very fabric of space.

Kaelith and Lady Seris watched from the Origin Construct, both tense.

Seris’s face hardened. “If he has that many, we’ll have to intervene.”

Kaelith’s hand moved to her blade, ice and fire already gathering at her fingertips.

Adrian chuckled quietly, his voice soft but carrying across the entire void. “You think you can threaten me with numbers?”

Kraxis sneered. “Each one is an SSS-rank. Your system will drown—”

Adrian tilted his head slightly. “What are you talking about? I don’t see any army.”

Kraxis frowned. “What—?”

Adrian lifted a single hand. His voice, calm and almost indifferent.

“Erase.”

The word rippled through existence.

The Absolute Source Order unfolded, invisible threads of authority reaching out to every demon present.

No light, no explosion, just silence.

The essence seeds of every demon in the fleet, from the lesser demons to the highest commanders, obeyed.

And vanished.

In one instant, the entire demon army ceased to exist.

Not destroyed, simply removed. Their essence unraveled, their forms dissolving into nothingness without even a scream.

As if they had never been.

The warships dissolved into light, their hulls collapsing as the essence cores powering them winked out. The void was empty again, silent.

Only Kraxis remained.

For the first time, his eyes showed fear.

His grin faltered as he stared at the empty void where his army had stood.

…

Across the Origin Capital, silence lingered. Every being, SSS-ranks, Stellars, envoys, allies, visitors, all stared at the empty void.

Kaelith’s lips parted soundlessly. Her dual essences trembled, resonating with the impossible display of power.

Lady Seris’s fingers trembled. “That… that was tens of thousands…”

Even Archscribe Morvain stood frozen, his centuries of composure shattered. His Node flickered, recording everything, but his mind struggled to process it.

And in the deepest chamber of the Aethelian embassy, Castian, the imperial envoy, whispered, “What… Impossible!”

The Emperor’s orders to let the clan die and save only Adrian at the end now seemed like the ravings of a madman.

Above them all, Adrian stood motionless, his gaze fixed on Kraxis.

Just from this gaze, even the Demon Lord found himself shivering.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep