Chapter 13: Eternal Conquest, Final Battle

Chapter 13

“It’s your turn to die.”

His tone was calm. Absolute.

The fake Vastro studied him for a long moment.

“You have two trials left,” he said at last. “Try your best to survive.”

They returned to the arena.

This time, Vastro did not sit to meditate.

His cosmic blue eyes flared as black flames erupted from his body, swallowing him whole. When the fire settled, he stood clad not in chaos, but in pure destruction.

“So,” the fake Vastro said, arrogant and composed, “show me what you’ve planned.”

Vastro did not flinch. His composure never wavered.

Instead, he spoke.

“What if,” he said, “we play a game?”

The fake Vastro raised an eyebrow.

He was sure this was part of a larger scheme somehow, but he could not see what the weaker doppelganger was planning.

He contemplated it for a while, turning over possibilities, testing motives.

Then he gave up.

There were too many things he himself was capable of. And if this little devil was even remotely like him, then there was a good chance he was about to endanger himself.

The fake Vastro felt wary, but he did not voice it. Instead, he spoke in a calm, melodic tone.

“Tell me your game,” he said. “If it is not too much of a hassle, I will play.”

Vastro smiled faintly and composed himself.

If this was truly himself, just stronger, then why not play with him a little.

That was exactly what he intended to do.

The game was simple.

The stronger Vastro would build up all the defense he could muster.

The colorless ability and a few others were not allowed.

Vastro expected him to argue. To question it.

He did not.

The fake Vastro simply nodded.

“Do you want to attack first,” he asked, “or should I do the honor?”

The original shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Prepare your strongest defense. I will go first.”

The fake Vastro looked at the weakling doppelganger who chose to attack first. He did not know what this devil was planning, but he was certain of one thing.

No matter what he did, he would not break the defense he could erect.

Filled with overwhelming confidence, he nodded.

“Go ahead,” he said. “Give me your best shot.”

The original was already in motion.

His eyes closed as he drew out every single bit of power from within.

The black flaming armor around his body shifted and erupted, forming a dome of pure energy around him.

Then the energy changed. He reached deep into the Absolute Law of Destruction, sharpening the dark flames until they carried an edge so potent it could erase existence itself.

But that was not all.

Just before the destructive force reached its peak, he introduced another energy.

Multicolored streams spiraled outward, surrounding the released destruction.

The purest form of chaos merged with the absolute mastery of destruction.

An attack meant to wipe out worlds. To erase realms.

Then it was condensed.

More and more.

Until it became no larger than a small bullet.

It shimmered with shifting colors, forged from pure chaos, wrapped in a tidal force of destruction.

The fake Vastro’s expression finally changed.

Before, he had felt a tingle.

Now, he felt danger.

Real danger.

That small, pebble sized attack carried enough force to end him.

His defense would not be enough.

Vastro did not wait.

He launched the attack instantly.

Space tore apart. Reality warped. The condensed force slammed into the invisible multilayered barriers the fake Vastro had erected.

There was no scream.

The entire plane was annihilated.

Vastro dropped to his knees.

He was completely drained.

If he had slipped even a little while forming that attack, the chaos energy would have erased him from existence. But he held it together.

And he won.

Or so he thought.

Before the thought of victory could even form, Vastro froze.

Holy crap.

The space he had annihilated was reforming.

Not completely. Not cleanly.

At the center of the collapsing void stood a figure.

Half of its body was blown to shreds.

The other half was no longer flesh at all, only endless abyssal energy churning where bone and blood should have been. Yet its face remained intact.

And that face was filled with pure, bottomless wrath.

Vastro’s gaze dropped.

Cold fear gripped his heart.

Even with all that power, he still could not kill him completely.

That alone told him the truth.

This Vastro was beyond him.

The fake Vastro raised a hand. Abyssal energy gathered, collapsing inward, forming a massive black hole that began dragging Vastro toward it.

So that is it.

You want to throw me into the Abyss.

If he was pulled in, he would never come back out. Not even the time loop can save it.

Vastro grinned.

Wide.

He raised the Blade of Oblivion and drove it straight into his own core, killing himself instantly.

The loop triggered once more.

Vastro found himself standing before the Throne of Abyssal Eternity, his gaze locked onto the other Vastro.

His voice was calm, even though time was running out.

“I guess there is only one chance left.”

The other Vastro leaned forward. The fake warmth, the false amusement, all of it was gone.

His face was cold, twisted with unrestrained wrath.

How could he not be angry.

He had nearly died in the last fight.

And he knew the rule.

As long as he was the one killed, the loop would break. He would die for real.

“What game are you playing with me?” he growled, teeth bared.

“I challenge you to the Eternal Conquest,” Vastro said without hesitation.

For a moment, the fake Vastro wanted to reject it.

But he did not.

Rejecting it would make him look weak. Worse, it would wound his pride.

He could not allow that.

So he accepted.

The arena formed once more.

This time, Vastro did not hesitate.

Three different layers of chaos armor wrapped around his body. Chaos energy flooded the space itself, warping the battlefield.

Then a thin but terrifying force of pure destruction coated his armor, stacking defense upon defense.

The strongest protection his current self could possibly create.

And still, he did not stop.

He could not stop.

This was his last chance.

“Arise,” he muttered.

His legions of powerful summons surged forth again.

It hurt to call them. He knew there would be no coming back for them after this. But they could buy him time. Even a little time was enough.

More energy signatures flared.

Barriers. Weapons. Constructs.

Everything he had.

Soon, Vastro radiated an aura that almost resembled his prime.

Almost.

The plan was simple.

Do not attack.

He was still weaker.

Instead, wear the other down. Force him to spend power. Create an opening. Land one final strike.

It was perfect.

He just had to hold out.

How hard could that be.

His opponent was himself at his peak.

He already knew the answer.

Since his opponent was himself at his peak, Vastro could only imagine how impossible this fight would be.

And just as he predicted, or maybe far worse than he imagined, the other Vastro finally summoned something Vastro knew all too well.

A pure silver scythe.

It radiated absolute dominance.

But that was not all..

Colorless domes rose around them, suppressing everything.

Vastro felt his power crushed, nullified layer by layer. He pushed back with his dominion, but even that was fading.

Before Vastro could stabilize himself, the other attacked.

And Vastro charged as well.

The battle raged.

Only about a minute passed.

But for someone standing on the wrong end of the blade, Vastro fought well.

Still, his opponent was simply too powerful.

Who else could he blame, if not himself.

Vastro slammed into the ground.

His face cracked as blood and energy leaked from his eyes and mouth without stopping. His weapon shattered. His essence was nearly gone.

The colorless dome faded.

Footsteps approached.

Vastro did not lift his head.

He could not.

He was finished. If not already dead.

“You lose,” the standing Vastro said, looking down at him.

But instead of begging, instead of breaking, the kneeling Vastro was muttering under his breath.

Rambling.

The standing Vastro listened.

He frowned.

Why is he counting?

“Six… five… four… three…”

A sharp sense of danger stabbed into him.

He raised his scythe.

Too late.

“One,” Vastro said.

The standing Vastro’s eyes widened.

His body stiffened..

Then he collapsed, crashing into the ground with a heavy thud.

The broken Vastro looked up, a faint smile forming on his bloodied face.

“No,” he said softly.

“You lose.”

TO BE CONTINUED…….

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