No doubt about it.
The monster was a true Abysmal Belial, living up to its rank and danger level. It far outclassed several monsters Northern had fought until now.
And it was growing stronger. Interesting as it was to entertain its rampage, the battle was dragging on too long. Moreover, Abyss Tyrant had just finished his own fight.
Northern could tell because he felt a surge of talent fragments flood into him.
He needed to end this quickly so he, Paragon Raizel, and the others could address that hanging hand.
He gazed grimly at the creature as his clones parted, creating a pathway.
"Playtime's over, buddy."
Northern spread his palms and instantly, a purple light began to pulse on his skin. The light in his eyes shifted to purple too, blazing with primal, eerie malevolence.
He advanced toward the Abysmal Belial and stared at it with a deadpan expression.
His hand moved forward but halted midway. Northern raised a brow and glanced back as a distant building collapsed from a shockwave, something launching off it.
"Nebulous Lord?"
Indeed. Nebulous Lord hurtled toward them at frightening speed, propelled by black, jagged skeletal wings. He looked altered.
His skin carried the same charred tone as the Behemoth they'd fought, though everything else remained the evolved Black Mamba—Nebulous Lord.
But his skin now appeared scorched.
Northern felt mild surprise.
'Did he eat one of those flying Behemoths?'
That was the only logical explanation. Nebulous Lord had consumed a Behemoth and gained control over its soul. Perhaps one he'd defeated?
Northern sidestepped in the air, allowing the void monster to crash into the Abysmal Belial, sending it skyward.
The sky split open.
The Abysmal Belial twisted midair, its segmented spine flexing and realigning as vast black wings unfurled from its back. Its limbs sliced through clouds like blades through silk. Its massive form stopped with a single beat of the new infernal wings, their membrane woven from shadow, sinew, and blistering heat.
It hung motionless. Then plummeted.
Nebulous Lord intercepted it.
Two forces—burnt and burning—crashed with the wail of tortured air. Shockwaves tore across the battlefield like invisible blades, carving channels through ruined buildings and ripping chunks from fractured earth. Craters formed beneath them from the raw power of their collision.
Steel shrieked in the distance as towering structures warped and cracked under the pressure. Glass fragments danced like embers, glinting in the darkened sky.
The Abysmal Belial struck first—sleek, curved talons that didn't cut but erased. A wall of force burst from the swing, turning the ground to molten ruin. Where it touched, the world ignited—not with fire, but with fire's finality.
A tent's fabric vanished before it could burn. A metal automation on the street crumbled to ash, no smoke, no embers, just the aftermath of destruction made manifest.
But Nebulous Lord stood firm. In this new form, he was now a Catastrophic Behemoth, a Charred Ash—his body already scorched and hardened. He absorbed the deathly touch like stone absorbs rain. Smoke rose from his limbs, not from pain but from defiance.
He unleashed a thunderous roar.
A guttural sound erupted from deep within his chest, sharp and raw, like magma breaking free. His wings snapped open, and with a deafening boom, he surged forward, each movement skimming through air, shattering sound.
They collided again.
One of the Abysmal Belial's arms—barbed with what looked like crystallized black bone—whipped forward, cutting through the battlefield like a scythe. Nebulous Lord ducked beneath it, his form blurring with impossible speed, trailing clouds of obsidian smoke. His clawed hand shot upward, burying deep into the Abysmal Belial's ribcage.
A pulse rippled outward—like a stone dropped in still water.
Pieces of the monster's armor-like flesh broke away, falling in chunks of glowing, blackened mass. Yet instead of retreating, it pressed closer, jaws unhinging like a predator unafraid of its own wounds. Rows of luminous teeth locked into place. Then
It exhaled.
The breath wasn't air. It was oblivion. A heatless, soundless gust that erased the very essence of existence. The soil beneath Nebulous Lord's feet dissolved into nothingness. Stone liquefied without warmth. Color faded.
And yet Nebulous Lord endured.
His charred body shimmered in the dying gust but held firm. His skin peeled and split further, flaking like scorched bark, but at his core—his essence remained untouched. Whatever curse or blessing he'd consumed had taken root deep within.
His eyes, glowing white with a black ring around them, locked onto the abysmal abomination's. No rage. No pride. Only cold calculation. A will unbroken.
He struck. No warning. No preparation.
Just force.
He slammed his shoulder into the Abysmal Belial's gut, lifting the monster. Ribs splintered. Breath vanished. They shot upward, clashing again midair like colliding meteors, then spiraled downward.
The ground rushed to meet them.
They smashed into it.
Earth split into a ring-shaped canyon. Buildings within a two-block radius folded like paper. Dust and ash swept across the horizon. The air itself seemed wounded.
From the crater's center, something moved.
The Abysmal Belial stood first, body twisted, wings crooked, flesh peeling like melted wax. Yet its presence grew heavier—as if pain fueled its power. Two arms dangled by thin strands of sinew, dragging like a dead snake.
Then it pressed one of its broken arm against the crater floor.
A ripple spread outward like a wave.
And everything within a hundred-meter radius simply ended.
Not burned. Not crushed. Simply ceased to exist.
The surrounding buildings vanished from reality. Time forgot them. The sky above the crater faded to a lifeless gray.
But Nebulous Lord remained.
Smoke poured from his back like a dark cloak. His charred skin hissed where it tried to heal, only to burn again from the strange new air, creating an endless cycle of destruction. But he stood unmoved.
Northern watched from afar, his face drained of color.
Who could have imagined that in just a handful of minutes, the Abysmal Belial would master Essence Manifestation?
'Is this what I would have missed if I had used Oblivion's Mark?'
He had been so close to stripping the creature's abilities and humiliating it, if not for Nebulous Lord's interruption. But now, he couldn't help but enjoy the spectacle.
Nebulous Lord lunged forward, ducked beneath another strike, and drove his jagged elbow into the creature's chest. It howled—an unholy sound, the cry of an ancient beast never meant to bleed. Black fluid erupted from its mouth, splattering across the battlefield in streams that burned holes into space itself.
Then came the claws.
Nebulous Lord unleashed them—not mere blades, but massive hooks, curved and notched, like the bones of a dying god. He tore into the creature's side, not cutting—ripping, as if determined to tear it apart completely.
The Abysmal Belial fought back, its remaining hand closing over Nebulous Lord's face.
And for a moment—the world dimmed.
Everything froze.
Then…
Flash.