Chapter 463: Helpless
Deiora’s grin widened, his massive chest still heaving from the impact of Sovereign Impact. Despite the blood trickling from his lips, despite the cracks in his aura, his voice carried the same unshakable confidence.
"Threats won’t work on me. I can adapt to death itself if I have to. Your words mean nothing."
Adam’s expression didn’t change. His hand rose, and the air beside him shimmered. The Soul Reaper’s Scythe materialized in his grip—its blade a deep, abyssal black veined with molten gold, its handle wrapped in worn leather that seemed to pulse with a faint, heartbeat rhythm.
He spun it once, the blade tracing a lazy arc through the air, and settled it against his shoulder with practiced ease.
"Then let’s test that theory."
He took a step forward, the scythe humming with contained power.
"Come on, Deiora. Show me how you adapt to this."
Deiora’s grin flickered, just for a moment. His eyes traced the weapon’s edge, the way the golden veins along its surface pulsed with hungry light. He could feel it—the weight of the souls it had consumed, the hunger that radiated from its core.
’That weapon... it’s dangerous. I need to be careful.’
He flexed his fists, crimson and golden aura coiling around his knuckles.
"Let’s see how long you can keep swinging that thing."
Deiora committed to the charge without hesitation, his aura blazing like a war banner. Adam read the trajectory in the space between heartbeats, stepped into the kill zone, and answered force with precision.
The scythe swept in a wide, horizontal arc, the blade carving through the air with a sound like tearing silk. Deiora ducked under it, his fist already driving toward Adam’s ribs.
Adam’s body twisted, the scythe reversing direction in a fluid motion, its edge aimed at Deiora’s exposed side.
Deiora’s arm came up, golden aura flaring to meet the blade.
CLANG—SCREECH!
The impact sent sparks showering across the battlefield. Deiora’s eyes widened as he felt the blade bite into his aura, carving a shallow groove through his defenses.
"You—!"
Adam pressed forward, the scythe becoming a blur of black and gold as he drove Deiora back step by step. Each strike was precise, each movement flowing into the next with a rhythm that felt almost rehearsed.
Deiora’s fists moved to intercept, but the scythe’s reach was too long, its edge too sharp. He was forced to retreat, his aura flickering as he struggled to close the distance.
"Fight me properly!" Deiora roared, his fist slamming into the ground and sending a shockwave rippling outward.
Adam’s wings snapped open, carrying him over the blast, and he descended with the scythe already swinging, aimed at Deiora’s shoulder.
Deiora’s hand shot up, catching the blade mid-swing. The edge bit into his palm, drawing a thin line of crimson, but his grin returned.
"Got you."
He pulled, and Adam was yanked forward, off balance. Deiora’s other fist drove toward Adam’s chest—
Adam’s hand shot out, catching the punch. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the clearing, the ground beneath them buckling under the force.
Deiora’s grin widened.
"You might actually be worth my time."
Adam’s grip tightened.
"How generous of you to say that before you die."
The scythe in Deiora’s grip dissolved into shadow, reforming in Adam’s other hand. He swung it in a tight, upward arc, forcing Deiora to release his hold and leap back.
Adam straightened, the scythe resting across his shoulders.
"Getting tired already? We’ve barely started."
Deiora’s aura flared brighter, the golden light surging along his arms and shoulders as if responding to his rage.
"I’m just warming up!"
He shot forward, his fist wreathed in blazing golden energy, aimed directly at Adam’s heart. The attack was fast, powerful—a strike that had shattered mountains and felled legendary beasts.
Adam’s scythe swept up to meet it.
CLANG—BOOM!
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the clearing, the ground beneath them cracking and splintering under the force of the collision.
Deiora’s eyes widened as he felt his fist meet Adam’s blade and push back. The scythe held, its edge pressing against his aura like a blade against stone.
Adam’s voice was calm, cold, carrying no strain despite the force behind Deiora’s strike.
"Your adaptation... it’s impressive but it has a limit."
He pushed, and Deiora was forced back, his boots scraping against the earth as he fought to maintain his footing.
"Every time you adapt to one attack, you leave yourself open to another. You’re so focused on becoming immune to what I’ve already done that you don’t see what’s coming next."
Deiora’s grin faltered, a flicker of unease passing through his eyes as Adam’s words sank in.
"What... what are you talking about?"
"You’ve been so busy adapting to my venom and my physical blows that you never noticed the pattern."
Adam’s form flickered, and the scythe dissolved into shadow. Deiora’s eyes widened, his instincts screaming a warning too late.
Adam’s fist, wreathed in silver energy, drove into Deiora’s chest.
"[Sovereign Impact]."
The impact was immense. Deiora’s massive frame left the ground, suspended for a breathless moment before he was driven into the rocks. The impact shattered stone and sent a cloud of debris billowing skyward as he vanished beneath the rubble.
Adam lowered his fist, his expression calm.
"And that’s how it ends."
Deiora’s body convulsed as he forced himself upright, rubble sliding off his massive frame. Blood poured from a dozen wounds, dark and thick, staining the shattered stones beneath him. His regeneration was working, but it was slow—agonizingly slow. The black tattoos along his torso flickered, their crimson light dimming as his aura struggled to stabilize.
"Not... not yet..." His voice came out thick, strained, each word a battle against the darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. "It’s not over... not until I say it is..."
Adam lowered his fist, his gaze fixed on Deiora’s struggling form. A faint, almost approving smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Good. Keep standing. I’m not done with you yet."
Deiora’s aura flared, the golden light surging along his arms and shoulders as he forced himself forward. His voice came out low, strained, but still carried that unyielding edge.
"Your attacks... I can feel them... My body is adapting..."
Adam’s smile sharpened.
"Adapting? You think that matters?"
He raised his hand, prismatic light already gathering in his palm.
"Let me show you what happens when you can’t keep up."
"[Eclipse Prismatic Beam]."
A lance of rainbow light erupted from his palm, streaking toward Deiora’s chest with devastating speed. The beam struck him square in the chest, carving a deep trench through his aura and sending him hurtling backward across the clearing.
Deiora caught himself, his boots carving trenches in the earth as he fought to regain his footing. His chest was smoking, the skin blackened and cracked, but he didn’t fall.
Adam was already moving.
"[Eclipse Spines]."
A volley of high-pressure, elemental-aspected spines launched from his scales, each one infused with crackling lightning. They tore through the air, embedding themselves in Deiora’s arms, his legs, his torso, each impact sending shockwaves of electricity rippling through his body.
Deiora gritted his teeth, his muscles locking as the lightning coursed through him. But he didn’t fall. He forced himself forward, his fist already cocked back, golden energy gathering at his knuckles.
Adam’s wings snapped open, carrying him upward as he opened his jaws wide.
"[Fire Breath]."
A torrent of searing flame erupted from his throat, engulfing Deiora’s massive form in a blazing inferno. The heat was immense, turning the air to plasma, melting the ground beneath Deiora’s feet.
Deiora’s aura flared, golden light pushing back against the flames, but the heat was too intense. He was forced to retreat, his skin blistering, his regeneration struggling to keep up.
Adam landed in a crouch, his hand already raised, dark energy gathering in his palm.
"[Tempest Sovereign]."
A vortex of cutting wind and crackling lightning erupted from his palm, tearing through the clearing like a living storm. It struck Deiora full force, sending him tumbling across the blood-soaked earth.
Deiora forced himself upright, his body trembling, his aura flickering, his regeneration barely keeping pace with the damage. But his eyes—those eyes still blazed with defiance.
"I’m... still standing..."
Adam’s voice was cold.
"Then let’s see how long that lasts."
He closed the distance in a blur of motion, his fist already cocked back, silver energy coiling around his knuckles.
"[Monarch’s Pierce]."
His fist drove into Deiora’s chest, the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the clearing. Deiora’s body lifted off the ground, hurtling backward through the air before crashing into the ground.
Adam straightened, his expression calm.
"Your adaptation has reached its limit."
Deiora lay amid the shattered stone, his body broken, his aura dimmed to a faint, flickering ember. His regeneration fought to mend the damage, but the wounds were too deep, the strain too great. For a long moment, he didn’t move.
Then, slowly, his hand twitched.
"...I’m... still alive..."
Adam’s eyes narrowed.
"You just don’t know when to quit, do you?"
Adam walked toward Deiora’s broken body. His hand rose, and Deiora’s massive form lifted from the rubble, suspended in the air by an invisible force.
Adam’s telekinesis wrapped around him like a cage, holding him in place as Adam stepped closer, close enough to see the fear flickering behind those defiant eyes.
Adam’s voice was low, cold, carrying no trace of the fury that simmered beneath the surface.
"Good. Now you get to feel what it’s like to be helpless."