Chapter 203: The Devil’s Throne

*BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!*

The colossal sphere of earth, ruins, and crushed corpses slammed directly into the peak of the Devil’s Lair. It wasn’t just a simple impact; it was total, apocalyptic devastation. The sheer weight and speed of the Heavenly Descent caused the entire foundation of the ancient palace to instantly shatter.

A shockwave of dust and Malice blasted outward, flattening whatever remained of the surrounding Deadlands for miles in every direction. The towering, ominous palace simply ceased to exist, folding inward on itself before being violently driven deep into the ground, leaving behind a crater the size of a small city.

High above the catastrophic ruin, Alen hovered perfectly still. His cloak fluttered wildly against the rising heat of the explosion. He didn’t celebrate. His eyes scanned the settling dust below.

He floated into the massive crater, his boots lightly touching down on a shattered slab of dark crystal. This was once the grand throne room of the Demon Lord, now reduced to an open-air graveyard of rubble and debrises.

For a moment, there was only the eerie silence of settling dust.

Then, the ground trembled.

*CRASH!*

A massive mountain of debris exploded outward. A gigantic, dark purple hand gripped the edge of a broken pillar, effortlessly crushing the stone to dust. Pulling himself out from the wreckage was a towering figure radiating an utterly suffocating aura of Malice.

It was Shitra. The giant Devil who had absorbed the Devilheart. The exact same monster who had brutally beaten Alen’s manifestation and dragged him away.

Shitra dusted off his massive shoulders, cracking his neck with a sickeningly loud sound. Despite a literal meteor crashing directly onto his head, there wasn’t a single scratch on his skin. His bloodshot eyes locked onto the cloaked figure standing a few dozen meters away.

A cold, cynical smile curled onto Alen’s lips beneath his mask.

"I was wondering if that little pebble would be enough to squash you," Alen said, his voice echoing calmly across the ruins. "But I guess cockroaches really are hard to kill."

Shitra paused, his heavy gaze narrowing. Then, a wicked, rumbling laugh tore from his throat.

"Hahaha! I recognize that annoying aura. You’re that little rat from the alleyway!" Shitra’s bloodshot eyes widened with cruel realization. "Wait... no. Your presence is far denser. That fragile toy I ripped apart earlier was just a fake, wasn’t it? You came all the way here to deliver the real package?"

"Actually, I came here to collect my property. And to make sure you suffer ten times the pain you caused me earlier," Alen replied, gripping Godless tightly as Crimson Essence began to spark wildly around the blade.

"Big words for a human, Let’s see if your real body breaks as easily as your clone!" Shitra sneered, his muscles bulging as dark purple Malice flared around his fists like roaring flames.

Alen didn’t wait. He instantly applied ’Weightless Existence’ to his own body, stripping away his mass to zero. Coupled with a violent burst of Wind magic, Alen appeared directly above Shitra, swinging Godless down in a fast vertical arc. But right at the exact millisecond before impact, Alen canceled his weightlessness and stacked ’Heavenly Descent’ directly onto the spear, multiplying the kinetic force of the strike by thousands.

*CLANG!*

The sound of the impact was deafening, like two mountains colliding. The ground beneath Shitra’s feet instantly vaporized, sinking the giant Devil knee-deep into the ground.

But Alen’s eyes widened slightly. The Crimson lightning-coated blade of Godless had struck Shitra perfectly on the collarbone, but it hadn’t even pierced the skin. It had merely bounced off.

"Is that it?!" Shitra roared, swinging a massive fist upward.

Alen immediately shifted his gravity, instantly pulling himself sideways in mid-air to dodge the punch. He didn’t retreat. He went all out.

For the next few minutes, the crater turned into a blinding storm of Crimson Essence and dark Malice. Alen moved with impossible speed, attacking Shitra from every possible angle.

[Nexus Elemental Art: Wind Type: Bizarre Slash!]

[Nexus Elemental Art: Fire Type: Blazing Thrust!]

[Phantom Step!]

He was a blur of motion. He struck Shitra’s eyes, his throat, his joints, his spine. He chained hundreds of devastating, mana-infused attacks together, manipulating his own gravity to land strikes that carried the weight of falling skyscrapers.

*BOOM!* *CRASH!" *BANG!*

Shockwave after shockwave echoed through the ruins, destroying whatever was left of the former throne room. Alen was in complete control of the momentum, relentlessly keeping the pressure on the giant Devil, giving him absolutely no room to counterattack. It was an overwhelming display of sheer skill and speed.

But it was utterly useless.

No matter how many times Alen struck, no matter how much Crimson Essence he poured into Godless, Shitra’s skin remained impenetrable. The Devilheart he had absorbed had mutated his physical defense to a terrifying degree. Alen couldn’t leave a single scratch on him even after trying several times.

"Are you done massaging me?!"

Shitra suddenly stopped trying to dodge. He braced his legs, his eyes flashing with absolute rage. He let out a deafening, monstrous roar.

A spherical shockwave of pure, condensed Malice exploded outward from Shitra’s body.

Alen, who was right in the middle of a thrust, couldn’t dodge in time. The sheer force of the Malice blast slammed into him like a solid wall of iron, breaking his water barrier instantly.

Alen was thrown backward, but before he could stabilize his flight, Shitra moved. The giant Devil’s speed suddenly skyrocketed, abandoning all pretense of being a slow, heavy brawler. He appeared directly in Alen’s flight path.

"Got you, rat!"

Shitra locked his hands together and slammed them down onto Alen’s back like a sledgehammer.

*CRACK!*

Alen felt like several of his ribs shattered. His body was driven straight down into the ground with the force of a meteor. He bounced off the ground, only for Shitra to grab him by the ankle in mid-air. The giant Devil swung Alen like a ragdoll, smashing him brutally through the remains of a crystal pillar.

*BOOOOOOM!*

Alen crashed through the debris, tumbling violently across the ruined floor until he finally slammed into a massive, broken wall, completely halting his momentum.

Dust settled heavily over the battlefield.

Shitra stood in the center of the crater, cracking his knuckles with a cruel, satisfied smirk. "All that flashy speed, and you still hit like a weak little human. I’ll make sure to rip your limbs off slowly, just like I did to your fake."

A few dozen meters away, beneath the shadow of the broken wall, Alen was on his knees.

*Cough!*

He gasped for air, his chest heaving painfully. Every single muscle in his body screamed in agony, his body heavily bruised from the devastating impacts. But ironically, as he knelt there coughing, he realized something. The pain was sharp, yes. But it was absolutely nothing compared to the torture he had endured when merging with his other manifestation.

Alen slowly planted his boots on the ground. His joints popped as he forced his body to stand back up. He reached up with a trembling hand, casually wiping the trail of warm blood dripping from his chin under the mask.

His azure eyes met Shitra’s bloodshot gaze. Instead of fear, a small, terrifyingly smile curled up on Alen’s lips.

"Well, It seems I should stop holding back anymore."