BOOOOOOM!

The colossal bull's impact against the shattered fabric of space unleashed a devastating wave of energy that blasted away every nearby ship, sending several crashing violently into each other in chaotic spirals of destruction.

"..."

On the sidelines, the demons stood frozen, unaware of just how narrowly they had escaped annihilation. They remained in formation, standing shoulder to shoulder, forcing themselves to focus on what was unfolding ahead while ignoring the overwhelming chaos surrounding them.

Like the rest of his kind, Sakaar possessed no eyes with which to instantly perceive the world before him. He, too, had to see by spreading his soul sense outward, expanding it layer by layer into the boundless void until the vibrations of reality painted a mental image of everything around him.

And now—only now—did he and the ninety-nine demon kings at his side finally perceive what was truly happening across the immense expanse of space before them.

Their senses extended outward, colliding with hundreds of thousands of warships moving like a swarm of enraged hornets that had just discovered a victim. Beyond them, they detected over a hundred monstrous creatures of all shapes and sizes, relentlessly surrounding terrifying stone beasts, bombarding them with artillery fire and law-based assaults in a desperate attempt to bring them down.

Behind that chaotic wave, another fleet emerged—dozens of ships returning to rain devastation upon Verillion, unleashing a ceaseless barrage meant to level the ground under the dominion of the Shattering Meteors Empire, paving the way for their ground forces to invade and slaughter whoever remained alive.

"This will be a long day indeed," came a deep, steady voice—the first to emerge from a transport vessel. It belonged to Fyron, The Demon King, his tone as sharp and solid as carved steel.

"…"

Sakaar took several seconds to analyze the battlefield in silence, his soul sense fluttering across explosions and spatial tears before he finally spoke with precision and cold authority:

"Target the fleets. Focus your assault on the motherships and support ships. Ignore everything else."

"Is that truly wise, elder brother?" asked Amon, the largest among them, his voice rumbling through the comms without even glancing backward. "If the stone beasts are destroyed, we'll lose our front line. Some of them are in the Nexus State, as you know."

"Disregard them," Sakaar replied firmly. "Once you attack the fleets, the pressure on them will lessen. You'll draw the attention of several World Cataclysms and Nexus States automatically. Just be cautious—your lives as Demon Kings are no less valuable than those stone beasts. Attack freely, attack wildly—but make sure you survive."

"Understood."

Amon and the ninety-eight other Demon Kings saluted sharply, then, in a single explosive burst, shot forward in chaotic trajectories toward the gargantuan battlefield.

The arrogant, careless demeanor that once defined them before being deployed to Verillion's War had all but vanished. Upon arriving and witnessing what true warfare meant—the scale, the destruction, the absolute insignificance of pride—they finally understood how pathetic their former defiance had been, back when they bullied fragile worlds and mistook dominance for strength.

Now, they followed Sakaar's orders without hesitation, awaiting commands from him and from the Shadow Swords above. Not one of them dared to act independently or form factions. They all knew—this battlefield left no room for ego.

Shooo!

BOOM! BOOM!

"Watch the rear!" Kssshhh!

"What's happening back there?! Repeat, what's happening in the rear?!" Ksshh!

"Who the hell are they?!" Ksshhh!

The first demonic strike was the very definition of destructive chaos.

Amon instantly expanded—his colossal body swelling until it towered over 400 meters high. In a single motion, his size dwarfed even that of the Marshal of the allied forces; he looked like a mountain that had erupted from the void itself.

His first action as that living mountain was to seize a mothership by its stern with both massive hands—then swing it like a club into a cluster of nearby ships, smashing them apart in a cataclysmic arc of metal and flame.

"RaaaAAAAAAWR~~!"

Amon's bloodlust aura exploded outward, washing across that entire quadrant of the battle and sending a chilling shudder through every soldier's spine. The power of a being at the pinnacle of World Cataclysm was undeniable—its pressure unmistakable. Only someone in the Nexus State could hope to stop him now.

Around thirty other demons also enlarged their forms, each to a different scale ranging from fifty to two hundred meters tall. Despite the size differences, all retained their crimson skin, their jagged horns, and the intricate runes carved into their bodies and armor—armor that gleamed with the markings of mid-to-high-tier legendary craftsmanship, specially forged to stretch and shift with their transformations.

The battlefield had turned into a nightmarish storm of fire and stone, of shrieking engines and shattered dimensions. And in the midst of that chaos, the laughter of demons echoed through the void—feral, unrestrained, and alive.

Those thirty crimson warriors—along with Amon himself—did not merely tilt the balance of the battlefield; they obliterated it entirely the very instant they appeared.

The grand encirclement that had trapped five of the stone beasts in that area was torn apart in a heartbeat. The tightly coordinated formations of warships disintegrated into chaos as panic swept through the ranks. Ships veered off course, colliding, scattering in every direction as the crews desperately tried to make sense of the sudden, overwhelming threat.

"What the hell is happening?! Why aren't we dealing any damage?!" Ksshh!

"Try again—focus fire from the rear flank!" Ksshh!

"Nothing's working! These armors... they're absorbing everything!" Ksshh!

The warship communication channels were a storm of frantic voices, overlapping commands, and failing sensors. Target locks flickered uncontrollably, and the operators screamed into their transmitters in disbelief. Their weapons, optimized to pierce mountains and melt asteroids, now felt utterly useless.

Each crimson soldier seemed to be surrounded by a faint distortion—some strange resonance that neutralized every energy blast before it could truly connect. The cannon fire that struck them simply vanished into ripples of heat and sparks, leaving no trace. It was as if the universe itself refused to harm them.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

A single lucky blast from a retreating mothership finally managed to shake one of the towering crimson titans, forcing him to stumble backward with a guttural growl.

But that brief triumph turned to horror in seconds.

"RAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!"

The giant roared in unrestrained fury, his voice vibrating through the void like the growl of a collapsing star. Humiliation surged through every muscle in his body—rage burned in his chest. With one motion, he reached behind him and drew his weapon—a sword that was already massive, yet expanded further, growing to nearly eighty meters in length as glowing runes ignited across its blade.

He swung with all his might.

SLAAAAAASH!

The airless space itself trembled. A burning arc of crimson energy cut through the darkness—and the mothership was simply erased. Its hull split apart, energy cores detonated, and the massive vessel was torn in two like paper. In moments, it was nothing but glowing wreckage drifting through the endless void.

"Hss—focus on your own fights!" one of the nearby monsters bellowed.

It was a massive armored crocodile, its scales tinted rose-pink and covered in overlapping black markings. Hundreds of metallic limbs carried its colossal body as it abandoned its current prey—a stone beast—and hurled itself toward the nearest crimson soldier, determined to crush him under sheer mass.

"Hm?"

The crimson warrior, noticing the approach, turned his head slightly. Without hesitation, he materialized a war hammer—a weapon so large it looked capable of cracking moons. He pulled it back with both hands, muscles swelling, and swung down.

KiiiiiiEEEHHH!

The sound was enough to bend light itself. The hammer's swing generated a gravitational distortion that tore through nearby debris, sent warships tumbling like leaves in a storm, and rippled shockwaves for hundreds of kilometers.

Then—

TAAAAAAAAANG!!

The hammer crashed into the crocodile's head.

Had that beast been standing on solid ground, its skull would have been driven miles underground. But in the weightless void, it rolled with the blow, spinning in a full circle to absorb the impact through motion. And then—

BAAAAAAM!!

Its tail whipped around in a blur, smashing directly into the crimson warrior's head.

"....!!"

The giant demon staggered backward several steps, startled by the sheer might behind the counterattack. The blow could have annihilated a battleship—but it had only made him step back.

He raised his head slowly, realization dawning. The hammer strike he had delivered moments earlier, with all his power and fury, had barely left a scratch on his foe. If his strike couldn't harm it… then what could?

This was the difference between those who had fought and survived the wars of the void, and those who had never left the comfort of planetary skies.

This was the weight of experience versus raw might—

and the demon knew, this was going to be a fight that could last days.

"…..?!"

Meanwhile, the colossal crocodile stared in disbelief. The counterattack that should have decapitated the crimson soldier hadn't even cracked his helmet. Instead, pain flared through its own tail—the tips of its armored scales split open, blood floating in the vacuum.

It had struck the demon's horns—and lost.

But how?! That thing was clearly a low-tier World Cataclysm, while it itself was of mid-tier rank!

Experience clashed against divine craftsmanship.

Confidence met reality.

And so, the two titans froze, their massive forms hovering in silence amid the chaos. No sound but the faint hum of ruptured space.

Each of them analyzed the other's stance, the faint vibrations of intent emanating through the void.

It was no longer a simple skirmish.

It had become something else entirely—

a duel of predators,

each realizing that the other could, and likely would, kill them.

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