Chapter 174: Reunion
’I have to take the initiative somehow!’
Valdris gritted his teeth as he endured the combined assault.
He made a split-second decision and activated his most powerful defensive capability—the sword at his hip, a weapon approaching Mythical classification.
The blade drew itself, its edge cutting through the seven Chaos Art Techniques simultaneously despite their Forbidden-Sequence operation. The sword operated on principles that transcended normal mystical combat, its enchantments designed specifically to counter Chaos manifestations.
Six of the seven attacks were completely negated, their mystical structures severed by a weapon that could cut concepts themselves.
But the seventh—Paradox—slipped through because it operated on logical rather than mystical principles.
Valdris found himself experiencing contradictory states simultaneously: alive and dead, present and absent, powerful and helpless. His consciousness fragmented as he tried to reconcile impossibilities that reality rejected.
The Prince capitalized immediately, its massive form crashing down on Valdris’s paradox-compromised position with physical assault that complemented the mystical attacks.
Claws tore through Valdris’s Ethereal Form, forcing him into physical manifestation.
Teeth bit into his shoulder, Chaos Energy flooding into the wound and attempting to corrupt him from within. Wings buffeted him with hurricane force, sending him crashing through multiple buildings.
Valdris recovered mid-flight, his Devil nature allowing regeneration that would have been impossible for lesser beings. The Paradox technique was still active, but he’d adapted to operating despite the logical contradictions, compartmentalizing the impossible states rather than trying to resolve them.
"You are powerful," Valdris admitted, blood streaming from multiple wounds. "Tier 4 classification is well-deserved. But I am still a Devil, and this combat serves neither of our interests."
"YOUR INTERESTS ARE IRRELEVANT," the Prince replied, continuing its relentless assault. "YOU INVADED MY DOMAIN. THAT VIOLATION DEMANDS RESPONSE REGARDLESS OF STRATEGIC CONSIDERATION."
It launched another combination attack, this time using Joint Arts that merged Chaos and Null principles.
"Joint Arts: Chaos-Null Integration—Existence Rejection!"
The technique targeted Valdris’s fundamental right to exist within the Labyrinth, attempting to erase him from the domain’s reality. Not killing him, but expelling him from the space itself, forcing him back to surface territories through reality-level rejection.
Valdris countered with his own Joint Arts, combining Soul and Order in ways that demonstrated his mastery over multiple Art systems.
"Joint Arts: Soul-Order Integration—Absolute Anchoring!"
His existence became anchored to the Labyrinth’s reality through techniques that operated on conceptual rather than physical levels. The Prince’s Existence Rejection crashed against Valdris’s Absolute Anchoring, two Forbidden-tier Joint Arts colliding with force that made reality itself scream.
The resulting mystical explosion devastated everything within a one-kilometer radius. The Sanctuary’s protective dome shattered completely, buildings collapsed, and even the ancient Labyrinth stone cracked under pressure that exceeded its structural tolerances.
Surviving Nephilim who’d been watching the battle from supposedly safe distances were caught in the blast wave, many dying instantly from exposure to mystical forces operating at scales their bodies couldn’t withstand.
But neither the Prince nor Valdris showed signs of yielding.
They continued their devastating combat, each exchange demonstrating capabilities that transcended normal understanding. Techniques that would have been legendary achievements for ordinary practitioners were deployed casually, countered expertly, and followed by even more impressive attacks.
The Labyrinth became their battlefield, ancient architecture crumbling as collateral damage from combat that operated at the peak of mortal capability.
"Sigh..."
Rey watched from a concealed position several kilometers away, his enhanced perception allowing him to observe the battle despite the distance.
He sighed deeply, the sound carrying exhaustion mixed with grim satisfaction.
"This was the only way," he murmured to himself, analyzing the ongoing combat with professional detachment. "The Devil was too powerful to fight directly, and the Sanctuary couldn’t stop him even with their full forces. But the Prince of Darkness..."
He smiled slightly, the expression carrying no warmth.
"According to the myths, the Prince was always territorial. Always aggressive toward anything it perceived as invading its domain. Drawing it toward the Sanctuary while a Devil was actively assaulting the settlement—the Prince would inevitably blame the Devil for the disturbance."
It had been a calculated gambit.
Rey had used his clone to delay Valdris while his real body descended into the Labyrinth’s deepest sections, approaching the Prince of Darkness’s territory and triggering combat with its subordinate Dwellers.
The Prince, disturbed from centuries of dormancy by fighting in its domain, had investigated.
And when it emerged to find a Devil actively destroying the Nephilim settlement—a civilization the Prince had allowed to exist precisely because they stayed out of its territory—the creature’s territorial instincts had been triggered.
Now the Devil and the Prince were fully committed to combat, neither able to disengage without acknowledging defeat.
This gave Rey the opportunity he needed.
"Time to retrieve the Divine-grade armor and escape while they’re occupied," Rey decided, beginning to move toward his residence in the Sanctuary’s eastern section.
Now that the Prince of Darkness was away from its position, this was the perfect moment.
The moment to make his way to the Land of Aether!
The settlement was in ruins, most of its population dead or dying, the protective dome shattered. But Rey felt nothing about the destruction. These people had been useful, but their utility had ended the moment the Devil invaded.
Better they die serving as a distraction than Rey risk direct confrontation against impossible odds.
He navigated through collapsed buildings and devastated streets, avoiding areas where the Prince and Valdris’s combat was creating ongoing hazards. His enhanced perception allowed him to predict the battle’s progression enough to stay clear of danger zones.
Finally, he reached his private quarters—miraculously still standing despite the widespread destruction.
Rey entered cautiously, his senses alert for any threats or complications.
Then he froze.
Someone was already inside.
A young woman stood in his residence, her silver white hair, emerald eyes, and aristocratic features immediately familiar despite three years of separation.
She held the Divine-grade armor in her hands, the crystalline detection beacon Valdris had given her lying deactivated on a nearby table.
Amara Desgarron turned at Rey’s entrance, her expression showing shock equal to his own.
For a long moment, they simply stared at each other.
The slave who’d been present when her family was destroyed.
The noble’s daughter who’d tried to help him become free.
Three years of separation, three years of changes, three years of wondering whether the other still lived.
And now they were experiencing an unexpected reunion.