BOOOOM—

A deep pulse erupted from his body, like a heartbeat made of light and silence.

The cold in the chamber instantly intensified.

Not the numbing kind from before, but something sacred, something forbidden.

The kind of cold that sank into the soul and reminded every creature in the room that it was standing in the presence of a higher being.

WHMMMMMMMM—

His moon tattoos flared, burning with divine light.

Just absolute.

A circle of pale silver formed under his feet, glowing with layered rings of runes that floated just above the ground, spinning gently.

His clothes fluttered in the rising wind, even though there was no storm.

Belial’s smirk froze, only for a split second.

It was subtle, but it was there.

He blinked.

“What… did you say?”

Aestrea raised his hand.

The air around him cracked.

Not like glass. Like reality itself was splintering, unable to contain what had been buried beneath his body all along.

『 ✯ Moon Mark ✯ 』

Light exploded behind him in the form of a massive white sigil, slowly rotating, inscribed with foreign divine scripts that even Belial couldn’t read.

Aestrea’s hair lifted, strands flowing upward, glowing slightly with threads of starlight woven between the silver locks.

The temperature plummeted.

Every breath of air that Belial took burned inside his lungs from the sudden cold. Frost formed on the tips of his axes, spreading up the handle like hungry vines.

The scythe on the floor… floated.

It lifted on its own, rising into Aestrea’s hand without him even glancing at it.

The scythe changed slightly, becoming longer and having countless sigils imprinted on it. It now glowed with the same divine white and blue that burned along his body.

He pointed it forward.

And then—

CRACK!

A single instant.

Aestrea vanished.

Belial’s smile returned too late.

BOOOOOOM!

The sound of impact didn’t come until a full second after Aestrea’s strike landed—clean into Belial’s side.

His body bent unnaturally as he was hurled across the chamber like a missile.

CRASHHH!

Stone walls crumbled.

The entire right side of the battlefield collapsed.

Aestrea floated slightly above the cracked floor, scythe in hand, looking at the place where Belial had crashed.

“Argh…”

Belial groaned—actually groaned—as he pulled himself from the rubble.

His torso had a long, deep slash across it.

But surprisingly, it wasn’t healing.

The divine ice was interrupting his regeneration.

“You… you used that power again,” Belial hissed, stumbling forward. “I thought it was gone. How is it still inside you?!”

Aestrea didn’t respond.

He simply took a step forward.

One step, and the whole place shook.

THUMP.

The silver ring beneath his feet followed him, sliding silently, keeping pace.

Frost trailed behind every movement.

His presence now crushed the room like gravity, and for the first time…

Belial wasn’t grinning, instead, his eyes even showed a hint of fear.

“Pftu!”

Belial wiped the blood from his chin, spitting out a cracked fang. His red eyes flared, a dark light coiling inside them like a storm barely contained.

Then…

He spread both of his arms wide, fingers twitching like claws tearing into the air itself.

『 Bloodstorm Surge! (✯ 7th-Level Spell ✯) 』

THRMMMMMMM—

The ground shook as the stone beneath his feet turned red. It bled, liquid darkness oozing from cracks that spread like veins across the chamber floor.

From above, a storm of black-red droplets began to pour like rain, each one screeching with a high-pitched hiss as they hit the ground and sizzled against the frost that lingered in Aestrea’s wake.

Then came the second wave.

『 Abyssal Maw of Ekranox! (✯ 8th-Level Spell ✯) 』

RRRRRUUUUUUUUUMMMMMBLE—

A hole tore open in the air itself behind Belial, pitch black and pulsing like a living wound.

From within, jagged tendrils of shadow shot out—dozens of them—whipping across the chamber with lightning speed, aiming to impale, crush, and consume Aestrea all at once.

“DIE ALREADY!” Belial roared, his arms trembling as he forced the unstable spells to obey him.

But Aestrea… didn’t move.

Not at first.

He simply raised his right hand.

The scythe spun once in his grip, the edge flickering with concentrated frost mana. A single rune lit up at the center of his palm.

『 Ice Series: Frost Chains! (✦ 5th-level Spell ✦) 』

CRACKKK!

From the ground, glowing chains of pure ice shot upward with blinding speed, weaving and coiling in midair.

They clashed with the incoming shadow tendrils and shattered them.

BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!

Every chain that broke did so with a concussive blast, releasing freezing mist that slowed the next wave of tendrils, until their speed faltered entirely.

Aestrea took that moment.

And moved.

FWOOSH—

His scythe was already in motion before his feet touched the ground.

He spun, dragging the blade through the side of the chamber, and slashed one of the tendrils in half. It shrieked and disintegrated.

He darted forward again.

『 Mixed Ice Series: Frost Step! (✦ 3rd-level Spell ✦)』

SWISH—CRACK—

He vanished, reappearing right above Belial, air warping around his form like a thunderclap had struck.

The scythe fell like a hammer.

CLAAAANG!!

Belial blocked with both axes crossed, but the force sent him crashing down through layers of frozen ground.

BOOM—CRACK!—

The dust barely settled before Aestrea followed through, descending like a reaper wrapped in divine moonlight.

“Moonlit Ice Lotus Sword Art….”

『 Third Move! (✦ Moonlight’s One Flash ✦) 』

SLLLLASH!

A straight-line cut, impossible to see, bloomed across Belial’s chest—his skin split open before the light even faded.

Blood burst upward like a geyser.

Belial screamed.

Not from pain, but from frustration.

His chest wound tried to close, but the frost seeping in from the edges was devouring the tissue before it could regenerate.

“You’re corrupting my blo—!”

Aestrea didn’t give him a chance to speak.

『 Ice Series: Frost Crash! (✦ 6th-level Spell ✦) 』

KA-BOOOOOOOOM!!!

A wave of compressed ice exploded from Aestrea’s body as he stomped the ground, sending sharp ice pillars erupting from every direction.

CRACK!

They slammed into Belial, pinning him to the stone wall.

His limbs bent, his ribs caved, and his body froze.

And Aestrea?

He calmly stepped through the mist like a god walking through snowfall.

Belial’s left eye twitched, half-frozen, as his body convulsed.

“You… fucking… insect…” he muttered through chattering teeth.

But Aestrea was already lifting his scythe again, white mana pulsing at its edge.

『 Mixed Ice Series: Ice Lotus Explosion! (✦ 5th-level Spell ✦)』

The ice that pinned Belial changed entirely, blossoming into hundreds of glowing lotus petals, spinning slowly.

Belial’s eyes widened.

“Wait—”

BOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM!!!!

A dome of white and silver light swallowed everything, flattening the floor, splintering the pillars, and forcing the very shadows to flee.

When the mist cleared—

Belial lay on one knee, body half-missing. His arm was gone. His left leg was a jagged stump. His chest had multiple craters of missing flesh, and his regeneration could barely keep up.

Step…

Taking a step forward, Aestrea raised his arm, frost gathering once more around the edge of his scythe.

The spell was already forming, runes igniting along the crescent blade like a frozen circuit waking from slumber.

A low hum pulsed in the air, followed by the shrill sound of ice magic coiling tighter and tighter around him.

『 Ice Series: Glacial Dash! (✦ 5th-level Spell ✦) 』

He was ready to lunge, to end this, but then, everything changed.

BWHUUUUUUUUUMMMM—

A sudden, ear-shattering tremor ripped through the chamber. Every wall cracked at once, the ceiling shuddering above.

Then—

CRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAACK—!!!!

A pillar of violent red light tore straight through the center of the building, punching into the heavens like a spear from hell.

The air warped, twisted, and screamed. Stone exploded upward, the ceiling completely obliterated as crimson energy surged with uncontrollable force.

Outside, the clear blue sky ruptured.

And in its place, a great blood-red dome spread like ink in water, covering the entire horizon. The world turned crimson. Shadows stretched longer. The light dimmed as if the sun had been devoured.

And from within the center of the pillar—

Belial stood upright.

He no longer resembled his humanoid form.

His body now towered over twenty feet, muscles layered with abyssal glyphs, four massive wings erupted from his back, leathery and jagged, his horns had grown longer and curled like blades over his head.

A tail whipped behind him, long and barbed, cracking the ground just by dragging along it.

His eyes glowed with liquid darkness, and his skin seemed to bleed black vapor with every breath he took.

KRAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

The roar echoed through the ruins, shaking every wall that remained standing.

The temperature dropped, but it wasn’t from Aestrea’s frost this time. It was from pure, soul-numbing pressure.

The Archdemon of Pride had awakened.

Or rather, it had activated its true form.

And yet—

Aestrea didn’t flinch.

He didn’t step back.

He didn’t even blink.

He stood exactly where he had been, his scythe still shining deadly as before.

His posture remained relaxed, his gaze fixed forward as if everything in front of him was a meaningless distraction.

Belial stared at him—at those calm, moonlight-colored eyes—then clenched his clawed fists as something alien flooded through his corrupted heart.

“…You dare,” Belial said, his voice now a twisted, multi-layered growl. “You dare… look at me like that?”

He took a heavy step forward.

The ground split beneath his clawed feet, entire slabs of stone breaking apart from just the weight of his aura.

Blood-red lightning cracked the air around him, each bolt howling like a chained beast freed from its cage.

“I AM BELIAL!!” he roared, wings stretching wide.

“I am a true Archdemon! The Sin of Pride! The one who ruled over thousands of demon realms while you humans scurried like rats in your cities!”

Aestrea tilted his head slightly to the side.

And smiled.

Not a mocking smile.

Not even a cold one.

It was empty.

As if Belial’s words failed to even register.

Like a king staring down at a gnat buzzing in the corner of his throne room.

Belial’s entire form twitched.

“You—!”

His voice cracked into a guttural shriek.

“I’LL RIP THAT SMUG LOOK OFF YOUR FACE, YOU FUCKING MORTAL!”

His wings flared.

His magic surged.

The sky turned darker.

But Aestrea… just slowly raised his scythe.

Without saying a single word.

Without breaking his gaze.

And from that stillness, came something far more terrifying than rage.

Indifference.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep