BOOOOMMMMMMM—!!!!

Reality twisted.

The forest, the soldiers, the tension—they were all gone in a blink. Anos and Valen entered the rift, stepping into a realm forged purely for calamity.

The Dimension of Strife.

Endless, colorless skies loomed overhead, swirls of thunder and black fire crackling through the void.

Shattered earth floated in broken islands, some scorched to glass, others bleeding mana into the aether. Mountains had no peaks, and oceans were jagged trenches of volatile energy.

It was a battlefield no mortal could survive. Here, the world itself welcomed destruction.

Anos appeared mid-air, cloak billowing around him like a living shadow.

Beneath him, a massive continent-sized slab of stone cracked from the mere ripple of his presence.

His crimson-black eyes locked onto Valen, who stood across the void, hovering with robes flowing and eyes blazing.

Valen’s hands curled into fists.

“You can still stop this,” he growled. “I don’t want to fight you.”

He couldn’t say this in front of everyone, but now that they were alone, he could.

Anos, however, didn’t reply with words—only action.

FWOOOOOOM!!

A vortex of demonic energy exploded from Anos.

Black runes spiraled around his arms, coalescing into a jagged sword of shadow and fire.

His aura roared to life, casting a burning silhouette of more than a hundred stars behind him—each one a manifestation of power, of ages conquered.

Valen answered in kind.

The air around him twisted as blood began to boil in his veins.

With a slash of his hand, it exploded outward, forming a lance of pure hemomancy. His own halo of more than a hundred scarlet stars shimmered into being, creating a grand celestial crown above his head.

KRACK!!!!

The first clash shattered a floating island between them—stone and mana bursting into fragments as their weapons collided in a blaze of red and black.

CLANG! CLANG! CRASH!

Each strike warped the dimension, sending concussive waves through the void.

Their speed was unreal—movements blurred, faster than thought.

Anos weaved around Valen’s blood whips and retaliated with razor-thin blasts of compressed demonic flame.

Valen gritted his teeth, driving a spear of blood toward Anos’s chest, but—

BOOM!

Anos sidestepped and countered with a sharp kick, cracking Valen through three floating boulders in the blink of an eye.

“GHHH—!” Valen skidded across the void, stabilizing mid-air.

He spat blood.

Not from the damage, but from the humiliation.

‘This isn’t possible,’ he gritted his teeth.

They had once been equals—two prodigies of strong races—yet now, he was losing.

Quite badly at that.

Valen’s crimson eyes flared, his frustration mounting. “What the hell happened to you…? You were never this precise… this refined.”

Anos landed calmly, wiping the dust from his coat. “I trained.”

“Trained? With whom? You live in solitude—”

Anos looked at him flatly. “With someone you haven’t realized the true value of.”

Valen’s fists clenched. “…What does that mean?”

Anos nodded once. “He is someone who doesn’t hold back, he fights dirty, and he never lets you repeat a mistake.”

The Vampire Emperor’s hands trembled. “Who the fuck are you talking about?!”

He couldn’t understand any of those cryptic messages from Anos.

“Why can’t you answer a question like you should?!” He asked, but looking at Anos, shaking his head in pity, as if he was losing something, he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“RAAAAAAAAGH!”

Valen snapped.

Just the fact that he was now considerably weaker than someone he used to fight on almost equal terms with, even with all the things he had done, was enough to enrage him.

Anos’ cryptic words and annoying nature just fueled the fire.

The stars behind Valen pulsed violently. His body began to glow red as he drew deeper from his core—pulling the ancient power of his bloodline into form.

The skies darkened. The floating rocks began to fall apart as reality recoiled from what he was about to unleash.

The Crimson Descent.

A power that only the direct heirs of the Veyrannis line could wield—one that traded reason for wrath.

He raised both hands, and the heavens bled.

But before the ritual could complete—

THOOOOOOM!!!

A black fist crashed into his jaw.

Valen spun through the air like a ragdoll, crashing through a mountain-sized rock and stopping mid-air, gasping.

“CALM. DOWN,” Anos said, voice deeper than thunder.

Valen spat blood again—this time, from the impact.

“You…” he growled. “You just punched me mid-bloodline invocation?!”

“I don’t want to kill you,” Anos replied coolly. “And I know you don’t want to die.”

Valen’s glare sharpened. “You’re holding back?”

“No.” Anos hovered closer. “I just didn’t come here for a death match.”

Valen wiped his mouth. “Then why are we fighting?!”

Anos’s eyes dimmed.

“Because Alex asked me to buy time.”

Valen stiffened. “…Time? For what?”

“To do what you wouldn’t let him do if you were watching,” Anos said. “To end Damien.”

Everything paused.

Even the storms stopped howling.

Valen’s mind reeled. “You’re saying… This fight… this whole thing… was just a distraction?”

Anos nodded once, though he wasn’t really sure. It was just his speculation.

After all, Alex hadn’t asked him to kill Valen. It was simply an opportunity to test how much he had improved.

That meant Alex had some different objective, and from that, Anos had thought that maybe Alex wanted to kill Damien while Valen was busy with the fight.

Valen, however, didn’t take this news lightly. His aura trembled with disbelief. “End the battle. Now. Before I am forced to use my bloodline.”

The Demon Emperor’s expression hardened.

“You’re not in a position to demand anything,” he said, voice razor-thin. “The thing I told you wasn’t because I’m scared of fighting you. I just didn’t think dying for Alex was worth it. Yet.”

Valen inhaled sharply. He looked behind Anos at his own halo. It had dimmed slightly. The scars of battle—even if short—were real. He couldn’t argue anymore.

He wasn’t strong enough to win against Anos. It was as clear as day.

He could probably injure Anos—quite severely—but killing him wouldn’t be possible.

Anos, on the other hand, could do it.

So, it was clear who was at an advantage.

“…Let me leave this place,” Valen finally muttered, bitterness thick on his tongue.

Anos stared for a beat, then nodded.

“Fine.”

He raised his hand.

The Disk of Dimension flared once again.

With a humming WHUUMMMMM, the two powerhouses were pulled from the battlefield—exiting in streaks of red and black light.

They reappeared in the forest clearing…

…only to freeze.

They weren’t able to understand the scene in front of them.

Why was Damien, who should’ve died, standing beside Alex as if nothing had happened?

…………….

A few minutes earlier…

While the battle between Anos and Valen raged, in the fifth peak of the academy, a different kind of war was being waged.

Alex stood calmly, his coat fluttering with a nonexistent breeze, while Damien, bound by ethereal chains and bloodied from the earlier skirmish, glared at him.

Behind Alex stood Zahara, watching silently, wondering what Alex planned to do.

She knew that look in Alex’s eyes—the soft, unbothered cruelty. It was like the calm that came before something irreversible.

“Zahara,” Alex said without turning. “Could you leave us for a while?”

Alex didn’t want her to leave, but he couldn’t dismiss just her subordinates. So, he decided to let her stay some distance away as well.

It wasn’t because he didn’t trust her, but because he didn’t want others to see what he would do.

Zahara stared at Alex, then, without saying anything, she moved closer, giving him a soft peck on his lips. “Tell me everything later.”

“I would’ve done that even if you didn’t ask,” Alex replied, a soft smile playing on his lips.

Then, with a nod, Zahara left with her subordinates.

Now, it was just Damien and Alex.

Damien struggled against the chains, his face twisted with fury. “You think I’m scared of you? Just kill me already.”

Alex walked toward him, step by step, with his hands in his pockets. “Scared? No. You’re too proud for that. But you are smart enough to understand what’s coming.”

He stopped a few feet away.

“I’ll give you one chance,” Alex said softly. “Be mine. Serve me. Be my slave.”

Damien spat blood toward him. “In your dreams.”

“I see,” Alex murmured, and then—

CRACK!

His fist buried into Damien’s gut. The impact echoed like a war drum. Damien’s body bent forward in pain, mouth open, but no sound came out at first.

Then—

“AARGHHHH!”

BOOM!

A follow-up strike sent Damien flying into a nearby tree, shattering the trunk like twigs.

“Still no?” Alex asked as he walked up again, brushing dust off his knuckles.

Damien tried to stand, his limbs trembling. “You… bastard…”

Alex kneed him in the jaw.

“Wrong answer.”

The beating continued. Damien was strong, but not enough. Not now, with Alex holding back just enough to keep him conscious.

After a dozen more strikes, Damien fell to his knees, face bruised and bloodied, eyes foggy.

“…Fine,” he coughed. “You win. I’ll… I’ll do it. I’ll be your damn slave.”

He agreed because he didn’t think verbally agreeing would do anything. He did this to stall for time. If agreeing to Alex’s condition helped him survive, then he would, and when his father returned, he would have Alex killed.

Silence followed.

Then—

SHHHK.

A pulse of silver energy rippled through Damien’s body. He gasped.

Something inside him shifted.

It felt… wrong.

Foreign.

He didn’t know what happened—until he gritted his teeth and muttered in his head:

‘Fucking Alex. Just you wait, I’ll—’

SCCCCCHHHHH!!!

“AAARRRGGGHHHH!!”

He screamed.

He clutched his head as white-hot pain exploded through his skull.

It was like his brain was being carved open with a thousand knives and then soaked in acid.

Needles pierced behind his eyes, and his tongue went numb from the agony.

“What… what the hell did you do to me?!”

He clawed at his face, writhing. “MAKE IT STOP!! I’M SORRY!! I’M SORRY, OKAY?!”

Alex didn’t move.

He simply stared.

“You’re not sorry,” he said coldly. “If you were, the pain would’ve stopped.”

“I AM!! PLEASE!!”

But the pain continued.

Damien sobbed, his hands pressed to his skull, every nerve screaming.

He didn’t understand.

He didn’t know what curse had been placed on him—but it was too late now. Something had embedded itself into his very soul, and it was tightening.

“I’ll kill you…!” He roared, lunging forward—

But his body didn’t move.

His legs froze mid-step. His arms locked. He trembled in the place like a statue, unable to breathe properly.

Alex exhaled.

“You shouldn’t have accepted,” he said softly. “But now it’s too late.”

Damien’s eyes widened. His mind raced.

“No… No, no, no—what did you do to me?!”

“You said yes,” Alex whispered, walking past him. “And now, you’re my slave. Thought has limits. Emotion has limits. But obedience… that is boundless.”

He turned and faced the broken noble one last time.

“You can’t betray me. You can’t fight me. You can’t hate me. Because even your hate now belongs to me.”

Damien tried to scream, but no sound came out. He dropped to his knees.

A slave—not in chains, but in will.

Just then—

WHUUMMMMM—

The air shimmered.

Two streaks of light—red and black—crashed into the clearing.

Alex silently ordered Damien to behave normally. He asked the guy to act like he would’ve done without the slave thing.

And soon, the figures of Anos and Valen stood at the edge, both freezing at the sight before them.

Alex stood calmly, his hands behind his back.

And Damien was beside him—expression as arrogant as always.

No one could understand what was going on.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep