The ground shattered.
The flames scattered.
It was a high-speed battle, unfolding in what was once known as the depths of the ocean.
Now—
An empty land.
Untouched by water or fire, driven away by the overwhelming aura unleashed by the two combatants.
Both were fast.
But the balance was clearly tilted.
Gripping Amon by the face, Frey dragged him across the ground, carving a new trench through sheer force.
Amon’s flesh and skin tore apart under the friction, shredding violently—
Yet he endured.
With a sudden counter, he struck, forcing Frey’s grip away.
Frey blocked the attack ...
And instantly severed Amon’s arm.
Amon gathered all his strength into his remaining hand, unleashing a thunderous, instantaneous punch.
Frey met it with the back of the Dark Sister—
But the impact forced him to step back.
That brief opening allowed Amon to breathe ... And regenerate his severed arm.
A mistake.
Moments later ... A roaring bolt of black lightning struck him.
His head exploded instantly.
That was the result of Frey’s Shadow Bolt spear, thrown the moment he disengaged from the previous clash.
Amon’s body stood—
Headless.
A fatal injury.
And yet—
It did not fall.
Blood surged upward, forming a new head...
Regenerating in a manner eerily similar to Frey’s own.
Amon was just about to complete the process .. When a violent blast of aura struck him again.
Frey buried him deep into the earth with a devastating Nameless judgement, annihilating everything in its path.
Standing in the sky, Frey stared down at the wasteland below, a faint frown forming on his face.
Because that blood...
Was reforming once again into Amon.
"Again?"
Frey tightened his grip around his blade, a violent vortex of aura spiraling around it.
"This level of regeneration isn’t normal."
"It’s on the level of a world-breaking ability."
"I thought that bastard only had two..."
"Or is this the one he’s been hiding until now?"
"No."
The answer came from Nameless.
"That isn’t a world-breaking ability."
"It’s the natural trait of his kind."
"Just like you inherited the traits of the Krat race."
"Being a demon granted him extraordinary regeneration."
"And Maskith enhanced it further, making it superior to that of ordinary demons."
Hearing this, Frey narrowed his eyes, watching as Amon slowly returned to the battlefield.
"How long can he maintain it?"
"Not long."
Nameless’ eyes faintly gleamed.
"Kill him a few more times."
"From what I can see, three or four should be enough."
"After that, he won’t be able to reconstruct his body."
Frey nodded silently.
Fully trusting Nameless’ analysis.
Yet internally—
A question lingered.
Why was Amon stalling like this?
Why hadn’t he used his so-called world-breaking ability?
The one that was supposedly capable of overturning the battle against any opponent.
Buying time?
Trying to exhaust him?
Frey dismissed both possibilities.
Buying time was meaningless.
No one would come to Amon’s aid.
Maskith was already present—and would have intervened if he intended to.
As for exhausting Frey—
That was simply impossible now.
Floating in the sky, his body overflowed with overwhelming power.
I now possess a body and control similar to the Krat race... granting me near-perfect mastery over my strength.
’My aura will never run dry thanks to Nameless’ circulation method.’
’And my soulfire will never fade, sustained endlessly by Thanatos’ immortal soul.’
Even if the battle lasted an entire day—
Frey was certain he could fight at full power without the slightest decline.
"Then why is he hesitating?"
Frey murmured, his gaze locking onto Amon ...
Who had just completed his regeneration.
Seconds later—
Frey’s expression darkened again.
He vanished instantly ... Reappearing directly before his opponent.
Amon anticipated it this time.
He attacked immediately, using the Transparent Domain to strike from all directions.
But this time—
He didn’t unleash countless blows.
Only a few.
Yet each carried far greater force—
Compressed power.
Fewer strikes.
But vastly stronger.
And significantly faster.
’Is this it?’
’Are these strikes supposed to be the weapon he relies on... after I’ve already killed him multiple times?’
Frey’s thoughts surged at a speed beyond any living being.
The Eyes of the Void ignited once more.
Amon increased the speed of his strikes drastically ...
Reaching a level where even someone like Gehrman would be unable to react.
But that level—
Was not enough.
Not against Frey.
The Eyes of the Void had already seen the attack.
He perceived its trajectory—
Before Amon even launched it.
Channeling a massive amount of black-hole aura along the edge of his blade ..
Frey cut through every punch with absolute precision.
Intercepting them instantly ... Shattering them apart around him.
Then he walked forward.
Slowly.
The ground around him—
Behind him—
Was obliterated.
Exploding.
Disintegrating.
But the path beneath his steps ...
Remained untouched.
Clear.
Unbroken.
And it was only a matter of time—
Before he reached Amon.
This time ... Amon struck with his physical body.
Pouring everything into the blow.
The punch collided with the Dark Sister, which Frey raised to block.
Their eyes met for a brief moment.
Their auras clashed violently.
A battle of force.
A push and pull—
Each trying to overpower the other.
A dark crimson aura ... Against a star-forged black one.
From a distance .. They seemed equal.
But upon closer inspection—
The difference was undeniable.
Amon trembled violently.
Teeth clenched.
Blood leaking from the corners of his eyes and mouth.
While Frey ... Stood completely still.
Unshaken.
Not even the slightest sign of strain.
Slowly ...
Frey poured soul power into his blade, along with black-hole aura, increasing the pressure on Amon.
Darkness surged.
The black hole devoured the crimson-red aura entirely.
Amon lost the clash of force.
He was pushed back, his guard breaking—
And in that instant...
He saw Frey raise his sword, pointing it directly at him.
"Frey Starlight Style: Nameless judgement."
For a second—
Amon saw Frey’s face.
The next ... He saw darkness.
And the third .. Everything disappeared.
Amon died.
Frey walked forward slowly, stepping across the devastated battlefield.
His black coat fluttered behind him.
His blade burned with flames.
"If we had fought before my battle against Thanatos..."
"You might have had a chance against me with that level of power."
"...Though you still would’ve lost."
Frey let out a quiet breath, turning toward the spot where blood began to gather once more.
"I suppose..."
"This is how you’ve been looking at me all this time."
His gaze remained cold as he stared at Amon, who was struggling to regenerate once again.
"I’ll admit it..."
"You’re clearly stronger than me right now."
"Even Agares wouldn’t be able to handle you."
Amon spoke with a faint, strained smile.
He understood now ...
At Frey’s current level, he could kill any demon—
Except for three.
What was truly terrifying...
Was that this was the vessel’s power alone.
Nameless hadn’t even taken control.
"...Impressive. Truly."
"Three times left... no."
"Two."
The Shadow Bolt spear formed in Frey’s hand out of nothingness.
He paid no attention to Amon’s words.
"You’re running out of time, Amon."