Chapter 771: Half-Lord Tier
What emerged from the fusion of the four Depravitas left the world breathless.
The very air froze with awe. Silence swept through the battlefield like a divine decree. Even the Lords, beings of immense power and transcendent wisdom, stood stunned.
From the merging of Wrath, Gluttony, Greed, and Envy... a new form had taken shape.
Vlad was reborn—no longer just a man, not merely a warrior—but a celestial avatar of destruction, forged from fury, obsession, and desire, bound in divine fire and elemental force.
His body had grown smaller, more compact—yet every cell had been compressed, refined to an absurd degree, creating a frame of immense density and strength. He no longer needed mass to display might. His power was now concentrated to the point of being weaponized in every movement.
His silver-white hair flowed like a storm, wild and charged with latent energy, crowned by two sharp golden horns that curved back like the blades of fate. His face, regal and fierce, held the glow of ancient lineage. Five glowing eyes radiated raw intensity—each one pulsing with an aspect of total domination: the power to devour, assimilate, consume, transform, and destroy.
His muscular form was etched with veins of crackling lightning, glowing like molten gold beneath obsidian skin. From his back, towering dragon wings unfurled—white as divine light, yet edged with infernal fire, composed of pure celestial and elemental energy.
A scaled tail lashed behind him, coiled with restrained violence.
His entire body was sheathed in a gleaming exoskeleton of black and gold, runes etched into the armor pulsing like a heartbeat. The runes told of death, rebirth, hunger, and divine wrath. One arm blazed with eternal flame, the other shrouded in a living storm. Every movement distorted the space around him, as if reality itself bowed in submission.
Surrounded by swirling chaos and divine light, he stood in the sky like a living tempest—a myth made manifest, a war god reborn from madness and spirit.
Earl Octavio, who only moments ago had roared with ecstasy and triumph, now faltered.
A terrible, primal fear took root in his soul.