The Ancient One formed a seal with both hands, reaching for the power of the Vishanti Trinity—only to be met with silence. The magic she had wielded for centuries, her anchor in countless battles, was gone. Understanding struck her like a blade: Belasco’s confidence stemmed from the Vishanti’s betrayal. They had allowed his presence on Earth for a single purpose—Sebastian Shaw’s submission. A chill settled in her chest as she realized the Vishanti had likely already reached out to him.

Long years as Sorcerer Supreme had taught her well: the Vishanti were cunning, their bargains layered with hidden traps. Elsewhere, Sebastian indeed faced them now. Three heads manifested before him—two ghostly, one solid. The center and left heads—Oshutu and Agamotto—wavered like illusions, while the tiger-like Hogoth on the right radiated a palpable, crushing power.

The Vishanti Trinity—Oshutu, her son Agamotto, the first Sorcerer Supreme, and Hogoth, an outer-dimensional deity—hovered above him like silent judges. Hogoth, the only one fully present, fixed Sebastian with an unblinking gaze.

“Sebastian Shaw,” Hogoth rumbled, his voice like distant thunder, “you have recklessly absorbed Hellfire’s authority, drawing forth countless infernal spirits. The Ancient One cannot protect you now. Swear loyalty to us, become the next Sorcerer Supreme, and we will spare you. Refuse, and you will fall to the demons you tempt.”

Hogoth’s presence pressed against Sebastian’s mind like a rising tide. Sebastian only smiled, polite but unyielding. “Your generosity humbles me. But I have no wish to wear that mantle. Perhaps another time—but not today.”

He chose his words carefully; the source of white magic did not ensure kindness, and Hogoth’s wrath was legend.

“A shame,” Hogoth murmured, and the vision collapsed like mist at dawn.

Sebastian exhaled, knowing Hogoth still lingered unseen. He turned back to the dark ruby in his hand, its Hellfire essence half-absorbed. The wand he held shook under the strain. He could not stop now—any hesitation might scatter the volatile power, injuring him from within. Pain was acceptable. Ruin inside his core was not. Drawing a steady breath, Sebastian pushed the remaining Hellfire into himself with ruthless focus.

Outside, the Ancient One and Belasco clashed amid a wilderness that trembled at their power. Bereft of the Vishanti’s magic, she was not defenseless. A crimson glyph burned bright on her brow, channeling the Dark Dimension’s energy into radiant orbs that whirled around her like living stars. They linked in pulsing chains, weaving a net of raw destruction.

With a sharp gesture, she summoned black flames that devoured everything they touched. Belasco snarled, his hands bursting with thousands of light-lances that arced toward her in a killing wave.

The Ancient One flickered between worlds, slipping through the barrage like moonlight through trees. Yet as she stepped back, a rift split the air behind her—a vast, scaly claw shot out, seized her, and smashed her into the earth.

The claw withdrew. Belasco lunged, thrusting both hands forward as millions of blinding rays poured down like a meteor storm. The mountain trembled, defensive wards sputtering against the onslaught’s fury.

A deafening blast split the night. From the shattered ground, pillars of stone and earth erupted, writhing like titans’ limbs. They snared Belasco and the monstrous claw alike, dragging them into a convulsing embrace of rock and ruin.

Belasco’s eyes widened in disbelief. The Ancient One rose atop one of the earthen tentacles, her robes torn, her posture unbowed. The crimson sigil on her brow burned brighter than ever as shadows gathered above, heralding the Dark Dimension’s looming touch. Within that abyss, a pair of monstrous eyes—Dormammu’s—flickered open, pinning Belasco in place with cold, ancient malice.

“Dormammu…” Belasco rasped, his voice cracking. “You’re mad, Ancient One!”

She did not answer. Instead, she drew deeper from that abyss, forcing the tentacles to twist and blacken, corrupted into true appendages of the Dark Dimension’s will. They lunged at Belasco in a writhing mass of malevolence.

Feeling his Hell Border buckle beneath the weight of Dormammu’s threat, Belasco glanced at the mountain’s peak, where Hellfire’s glow throbbed like a heartbeat. Snarling, he retreated, stepping onto the massive claw still half within the rift. It dragged him back into the void, sealing the rent behind him.

The Ancient One exhaled shakily, lowering her hand. The crimson mark on her brow dulled and vanished; the eyes overhead dissolved into nothing. The corrupted tentacles crumbled back into earth and stone, littering the battlefield with dust. It had all been a masterful bluff—a conjured phantom of Dormammu, exploiting Belasco’s dread. Had he called it, the façade would have broken.

Yet the Earth stood safe, and that was enough. She had faced the Lord of Limbo with only her own strength—no Vishanti to shield her. It was proof enough of her indomitable will.

She turned, searching for Sebastian—only to sense new threats approaching. Three figures blurred across the horizon, clad in sleek black suits, moving too fast for mortal eyes. Black wings snapped open behind them as they landed before her, their gazes cold and hungry.

“Lucifer’s fallen angels?” the Ancient One murmured, her eyes narrowing. “So, even Lucifer covets this power…”

Behind them, more shadows descended from the sky—scores of winged shapes drifting toward the barren peak. Subtly, her right hand formed a blade seal. Purple bindings erupted from the ground, coiling around the three nearest angels, shackling them in bands of arcane force.

She launched skyward, hurtling toward the growing swarm. But black smoke billowed from the bound angels, corroding the purple ropes like acid. Freed, their wings snapped wide as they shot after her in a blur of feathers and fury.

Their leader, eyes burning with cruel purpose, unleashed a shriek that split the air. His scream was a command—the other fallen angels swooped down in a black tide. Tendrils of smoke coiled from their palms, twisting into barbed chains that lashed out, seizing the Ancient One mid-flight.

The leader alighted atop the mountain’s crown, placing a gloved hand on the protective array encircling it. Black smoke bled from his flesh, eating through the magic until a ragged breach opened wide. Without hesitation, he stepped through, eyes fixed on the figure within.

There sat Sebastian, framed by the mountain’s runes, the dark red ruby suspended before him. Its Hellfire glow pulsed like a living heart. The fallen angel lunged, clawed hand outstretched. But Sebastian’s own hand flashed forward, grasping the gem. The final vestige of Hellfire poured into him—and the ruby burst apart in a cascade of ember-like dust.

A roaring inferno erupted from Sebastian’s body, swallowing the leader whole. The black suit burned away, skin cracked and charred, wings turned to ash in the blaze. The air split with a thunderous blast as the mountain shuddered, arcs of Hellfire slicing through the defensive wards and staining the sky crimson.

A smoldering corpse fell, its impact shaking the peak. Above, the swarm of angels still battling the Ancient One let out cruel laughter. To them, the outcome was clear: their leader had claimed the Hellfire and left nothing of the mortal wizard but ash.

But their mirth faltered when the corpse twitched. Smoke poured from its charred ruin, knitting flesh and sinew anew. Feathers sprouted from skeletal stumps where wings had been, a raw, guttural shriek tearing from a half-formed throat.

When the face emerged from the embers, realization struck them cold—it was not Sebastian, but their leader reborn. Horror cracked through their arrogance. The angel stepped from the crater, flesh mending, feathers blooming black. His suit reformed from the swirling smoke, but shame twisted his face beneath the mask of cold dignity.

The Hellfire blaze dimmed, collapsing inward. At its core hovered Sebastian, untouched by flame. Controlled Hellfire danced around him, a black flame-shaped sigil flickering above his brow—the mark of true Hellfire authority, now bound to his soul.

“Capture him!” the leader roared, voice shredding the night. “Take him—offer him in sacrifice!”

At once, the swarm of fallen angels abandoned the Ancient One, wings beating the air as they turned on Sebastian. She tensed to intervene, but his voice reached her—calm, unwavering. “Master Ancient One. This is mine to handle.”

She hovered above, shadows coiling around her fingertips but held her power in check. Below, Sebastian lifted his wand. A dark red glow ignited at its tip, pulsing with the Hellfire’s authority now woven into his soul. In the final heartbeat of his absorption, his Fiendfyre Curse had fused with Hellfire’s primal laws, birthing two new spells: the Hellfire Curse—pure control of that infernal blaze—and the Annihilation Ray, a single-target executioner, merciless and absolute.

A thin red beam lanced from his wand—its heat so intense the air hissed where it passed. Unlike a normal spell, the beam did not arc or spiral. It shot forward in impossibly straight lines, then snapped at abrupt angles, a geometric predator.

One fallen angel braced behind two of his kin—confident in his shield of flesh and iron will. The ray veered in midair, skipped around them at a perfect right angle, and speared him in the back. There was no scream. One heartbeat he existed; the next, ash scattered in the wind.

Sebastian’s wand danced like a conductor’s baton, and more beams carved the sky—red streaks zigzagging with surgical precision. The swarm wavered, barriers flaring to life in desperate haste. Each angel glimpsed only a sliver of warning: fail to guard for a moment, and they would vanish like their fallen brother.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep