Michael's lungs burned, his pulse hammering in his ears, yet clarity coursed through him like wildfire. Umbral Frost hummed in his veins, the four vertical pillars and the diagonal lattice thrumming with life, radiating cold darkness into the air.

Even at C-rank, his first evolution was formidable; he could feel the shadows bending to his will, the ice searing the ground as he moved, forming spikes, walls, and blades that danced and twisted around him.

For the first time, the demon didn't evade. For the first time, it didn't mock. Its crimson eyes narrowed, measuring, calculating, and Michael could swear, just for a heartbeat, he saw something like caution flicker across its monstrous visage.

"This... this is it," Michael whispered to himself, voice ragged. "I can do this. I can end it. I can-"

The air around him thickened. Frost twisted and shadows coiled more tightly around the pillars, the lattice pulsing with raw force.

He could feel the Umbral Frost responding, bending to his will, amplifying every strike, every pulse, every heartbeat. For a moment, victory seemed tangible.

Then, with a movement so sudden it was almost imperceptible, the demon's form blurred. Faster than thought, faster than shadow itself, it leapt high above the crater, disappearing entirely.

Michael's pulse stuttered. "Wha-"

Before he could finish, the sky above cracked open, a fissure of black and crimson light rending reality itself. From the rift poured an avalanche of energy, pure and raw, not ice, not shadow, but something older, something primordial.

The air ignited with a strange cold fire, shadows bending and screaming as though in pain. The demon descended, but not alone. From the rift, its true form emerged, or perhaps its essence, something beyond comprehension.

Its body expanded, horns spiraling into jagged crescents, wings of pure darkness erupting from its back, claws elongating into spikes of obsidian fused with void energy. Its eyes burned with a light that seemed to erase the edges of reality itself.

"This is my true power," it rumbled, voice echoing like the collapse of mountains. "What you faced before was merely a shadow of me. Now, feel what you cannot endure."

Michael staggered backward, the Circle of Pillars pulsing wildly, struggling to contain the onslaught of primordial energy.

Ice and shadow whipped outward, forming walls and barriers, but the force of the demon's presence warped the lattice. Pillars buckled, diagonal lines wavered, frost cracked and shattered under the sheer magnitude of its aura.

The ground trembled violently as the demon slammed into the crater, wings unfurling, each beat sending shockwaves that splintered ice and tore shadows from the lattice.

Michael's Umbral Frost pulsed in desperate resonance, trying to push back, to hold, to contain, but the raw energy was overwhelming.

"You've grown," the demon said, voice now a chorus of countless echoes, each syllable grinding like stone. "But growth means nothing when faced with the inevitable."

A claw swept outward.

Michael's body trembled, his teeth gritted, his breath ragged. "No… I… won't-"

But the demon's presence was absolute, omnipresent. Every thought, every heartbeat, every strand of will met an invisible wall of pure power.

Then, with a motion that blurred thought itself, the demon unleashed the apex of its trump card. From its void-twisted wings, a torrent of energy erupted, a cascade of darkness and frostfire so intense that it warped the very edges of the crater.

The blast slammed into Michael's shaking body. Michael screamed, energy coursing wildly through him, blade flickering, shadows tearing against their bonds.

"You believed you could shape the battlefield?" the demon hissed, aura flaring like a sunless star. "You believed you could endure? You're still a child playing with power beyond your rank!"

Michael gritted his teeth, forcing his stance. But still, he held. He still had the fractured blade, still had the remnants of Umbral Frost, still had the fire in his veins.

"I… I am not nothing!" he roared, voice cracking through the storm.

Shadows and frost snapped toward his will, forming jagged tendrils, trying to stabilize the Circle. But even as he fought, the demon's trump card descended like inevitability incarnate, crushing the battlefield beneath the weight of its power.

Michael's knees buckled under the pressure, the lattice flickering violently, the diagonal lines snapping and reforming, pillars bending like reeds in a gale. He forced himself upright, sweat and frost mingling, blood running thin along his hands, but still he clutched the blade.

The demon hovered, wings unfurling, aura expanding, a living eclipse of frostfire and void, eyes blazing through the storm. Its claws extended fully, energy surging in every direction.

"This is the end, Michael. Your Umbral Frost is magnificent. But magnificent is meaningless against eternity."

Michael gritted his teeth, veins burning, shadow and ice writhing violently. Even crushed, fractured, and tested beyond limits, he wouldn't submit.

"Then I'll endure," he spat, voice raw, "and I'll make you pay for every second of what you've taken!"

The demon's aura flared again, and the storm of void energy and frostfire converged on Michael like a collapsing planet.

The Circle of Pillars trembled, groaned, and cracked, the lattice thrumming violently, the diagonal lines pulsing in desperate resistance.

And then, at the apex of the calamity, Michael's fractured blade ignited. Not just with shadow, not just with ice, but fused, alive, resonating with every ounce of pain, loss, and unyielding will he had left.

The air around him screamed, the ground shivered, and for a heartbeat, the battlefield froze in suspension, the clash between the demon's trump card and Michael's fledgling Umbral Frost holding in precarious balance.

He could barely breathe, every muscle trembling, but even as the power pressed him toward annihilation, a spark of defiance burned inside his core.

The demon had crushed everything he'd built, everything he thought could give him victory, but one thing remained: his will. His resolve. His bond to Zane.

Michael's teeth clenched, and through the roaring storm, through the shards of ice, through the shadows tearing themselves apart under the demon's might, he whispered: "I will endure."

The pillars flickered violently, shadows coiling desperately, ice shattering and reforming, but the lattice held, barely, imperfect, raw, alive.

The demon paused, sensing the defiance in the eye of annihilation, eyes narrowing in sharp curiosity. Michael knew he was at the edge of everything.

But for the first time, he didn't flinch. Even against a trump card that should have crushed him, he stood, fractured, bleeding, trembling, but unbroken.

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