Chapter 2079: Death of the Head

Davina looked up.

Her eyes bore witness to the esoteric destruction of the realm as branching dimensional cracks stretched through the sky. Sliced open by the rampaging energy streaks that travelled through the sky at sound speed.

Around, the dark ocean water churned like it was the end of the world.

Violent waves met other violent waves, smashing hard with an ear-deafening thunderclap.

Just then, one streak of energy blitzed past Davina’s head, missing only by a couple of inches.

Davina’s breath hitched as she watched the delayed force coming straight at her.

She wanted to move, to get away before she was hammered by it—but the pain Rex felt right now was too much. Even with the connection between them heavily suppressed, she could still feel his pain that was beyond her pain tolerance.

It stiffened her body, turning her into a statue.

Both her eyes widened, and the surface of her eyes reflected the incoming polychrome force.

In the nick of time, something winged her on the shoulder.

No—it was a hand.

Vadyn managed to reach her in time, pulling her away right before the ground where she stood got fully obliterated by the tectonic force. Both women were hurled sideways, rolling across the ground—where the dark ocean should have started.

"Ergh!"

"Keep your head down! It’s not over!"

CRACK—!

Just as the words slipped out of Vadyn’s mouth, another force blitzed past their heads.

It slammed into the ground a quarter-mile behind them and dug a deep trench that kept on growing.

She quickly pushed Davina’s head against the ground.

Davina whimpered in pain as her mind and body were assaulted by pain, but it was no time for comfort right now. Better to be suffering in excruciating pain rather than dying from a stray force—that was not meant for her.

For the entire minute, the entire realm was assaulted by the ferocious aftermath of the powerful clashes.

Above, the spectators were also not in a good situation.

As soon as the impact happened, the barrier protecting the spectators’ seats wobbled.

It should be impossible for this to happen—as the Cluster Custodian made sure that the spectators would not get involved in the battle at all. But there was something within the vortex of energies that inhibited the Cluster Custodian from recovering the barrier instantly.

Not to mention, he was also mending the dimensional cracks that were spread across the entire realm.

Concerned about the safety of their families, some High Lords rose from their seats.

All of them combined their strengths to mend the barrier and keep it in shape until the chaos receded.

High Lord Leenim was one of them.

Immortal energy was infused into his hand—creating a smoky energy that wrapped around him and the others around him. As he protected the others, his eyes were still glued to the battle. ’This is it. This is their final attack. Considering their conditions, this was already a surprising turn of events. But it’d be meaningless if they didn’t turn the tables around.’

"Dear!" His wife’s voice called in urgency. "Something is happening to her!"

High Lord Leenim glanced over his shoulder.

He saw his wife was cradling Lilliana, who was curled up on the ground—veins bulged on her neck and her face twisted and reddened as if she was holding back pain. Even though the impact didn’t reach her, she seemed to be hurt.

"What are you waiting for? Heal her."

"I didn’t bring anything with me."

"I brought something." Their daughter stepped forward and took out a berry from her pocket.

A habit of hers to bring something in case she got severely wounded.

And now, seeing how the battle developed, there was no wrong in giving it away for Lilliana.

High Lord Leenim looked away again—fixing his gaze back on the battle. The receding energy streaked across the air in flickering bursts. Flashes of colour shaped like lightning, stretching outward from the epicenter.

Soon enough, the dust and energy residue cleared, revealing a massive and destructive scar.

Below, where the dark ocean should’ve been, there was only the rough, vitrified ground.

No water could be seen for dozens of miles.

Due to the destructive clash, the ocean had been entirely evaporated, leaving behind a desolate land of cracked, scorched earth that looked like the surface of a dead moon. Dimensional tears—slitted blacks that looked like eyes peering from the other side also covered the entire area.

Some were long slits, while others were wavy slits. Some were opened wide, while some barely.

Even the hailstorm stopped.

At the center of it all was a deep, mile-wide crater.

And in that crater knelt a figure.

High Lord Rashal’s entire body was steaming; a cadaverous wraith bleeding heat into the freezing air.

Both of his eyes were now nothing but hollow, charred sockets; the skin around them melted and fused shut. There were gaping, bloodless holes in both of his palms—the flesh cauterized by the sheer might that he unleashed from the portals he summoned, from the Pure Black Realm.

His chest was burned completely away—the skin and ribs incinerated to reveal the raw muscle behind.

Steam hissed from his exposed tissues; the moisture of his body boiling—and the remnants of immortal energy created this vapour like he was a hot pan that was poured with cold water. He was utterly drained of energy.

Enough only to keep him conscious and alive.

He was a man who had survived countless wars—a powerhouse who had clawed his way up from the gutters of the world, but this was his worst state yet. He was utterly depleted. The sheer devastation of his physical form suggested he shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone conscious.

His body was screaming from the excruciating agony firing from every ruined nerve ending.

But no whimper came out of his mouth.

Just silence.

Not too far away, at the edge of the mile-radius crater, lay High Lord Ursa.

Half of his torso was completely gone. His left arm and the left side of his chest had been blown away; the flesh and bone charred black by the white ray that had overpowered his attack. His powerful trident, the symbol of his authority, lay beside him.

Out of the three prongs, two were broken.

High Lord Ursa had relied on it to block the white annihilation ray, and now it was reduced to this.

And exactly like High Lord Rashal, his immortal energy was practically depleted.

More than that, every single protective treasure he had hoarded over his entire life had been shattered.

Everything he had prepared in case things went awry was evaporated by the apocalyptic final attack.

No—he was worse off than High Lord Rashal.

High Lord Ursa choked on his own lifeblood with a wet, gurgling sound that bubbled in his throat. He stared up into the fractured sky where healing dimensional tears shimmered like slitted scars across the void.

As he felt his immortal energy leaving him, the terrible truth of his age caught up to him all at once.

Slowly, the wrinkles on his face, once smoothed by power, became deep, cavernous ravines.

His skin looked thin and papery, clinging to the skull beneath.

High Lord Ursa had lived for so long. He had countless near-death experiences. He had looked up at the sky like this countless times, anticipating death to come get him. In the past, death had always turned its back on him.

But right now, as the cold seeped into his bones, that didn’t seem to be the case.

Sensing that flicker of fading life, High Lord Rashal’s body moved.

He gritted his teeth and fought the suffocating weakness that crippled his body to stand up.

Considering his current condition, it should be physically impossible. His bones were cracked, and his blood pressure had plummeted. Not to mention, the pain made every move he made ten times harder—but willpower could carry a man past the limits of the flesh.

He stood regardless of the odds, swaying on his feet, and began to trot forward.

His steps were weak and wobbling, a macabre shuffle over the scorched earth—but he remained upright.

He was blind, his body was a canvas of mortal wounds, and filled with a pain so intense it felt like the universe was crushing him. He couldn’t see the crater. He couldn’t see the broken trident—but he could feel High Lord Ursa’s presence.

It was a fading, ragged pulse in the dark.

Any crater would be easily scaled by him like it was nothing.

But now, with his condition, climbing the crater to reach the top felt like a hazardous odyssey.

High Lord Rashal took a significant amount of time to reach the top and then dragged his body forward, one agonizing step after another, walking to end the battle once and for all. Soon, he reached the dying High Lord Ursa and dropped to his knees.

"You surpassed your limits once again..." High Lord Ursa whispered without looking.

A small smile curled on his lips.

Just yesterday, he was sneering at High Lord Rashal that don’t know when to back down.

Just yesterday, he thought High Lord Rashal was stepping out of his league by not giving him face.

Now he realized that he had gotten too arrogant.

Diamantona said that they were acting like dead men, and now he understood that arrogance was really the key that opened the door to his death. He might’ve prepared for the Purgation Duel without looking down on High Lord Rashal, but deep down, arrogance already took hold.

Earlier, had he chosen to avoid the white ray instead of facing it head-on, he would’ve won.

But once again, arrogance and pride clouded his mind.

Had it been his younger self, he understood that in a battle to the death, how you won didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was winning. But now, instead of thinking that way, he had directly confronted the white ray.

Too ashamed to dodge.

And that mistake became the death of him.

High Lord Rashal didn’t answer—he simply gasped heavily, trying to catch his breath.

Right now, he was too tired to even think, much less say anything.

On the other hand, High Lord Ursa blinked his eyes—his eyelids were moving slower now. Heavier. It was the first touch of death, and he had experienced it for the first time. He sucked in a deep breath, and then spoke again, "I know it would be shameless of me to ask this, but can you spare my family? I have done many bad things, and I wanted to do something good for once."

Since the winner of the Purgation Duel would take everything, High Lord Ursa’s family is finished.

Not because they lost their fortune, but because their family status would be demoted.

And as the reigning High Lord—High Lord Rashal could easily send someone to wipe them out with a fabricated reason. The Cluster Custodians and perhaps even the Overseer would overlook this problem, though there would need to be a gap in time.

"Stick to how you always are, Ursa." High Lord Rashal finally spoke, though he was still gasping. "Do not stray simply because death finally caught up to you. If you are in my position—you wouldn’t grant me the same thing."

"Just a few of them would be fine. Even one. I don’t mind."

"I can’t do that... You know I can’t.’

Showing mercy to his enemies would only be cruelty to his own people.

High Lord Rashal simply couldn’t do that.

Especially not after High Lord Ursa threatened to do horrific things to those around him—had he been the one lying on the ground right now. No matter what, he needed to take out High Lord Ursa’s family to secure his own.

High Lord Rashal rose to his feet after grabbing the trident.

He pointed the sole prong at High Lord Ursa’s neck, ready to end it.

"But I could maintain your family’s presence in your territories. So that you won’t be forgotten easily."

"That’s good enough."

Once he said that, High Lord Rashal pushed the trident down, killing High Lord Ursa for good.