Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 565: Fire vs Ice and Wolf vs Lion

Chapter 565: Fire vs Ice and Wolf vs Lion

Although Vlad was extremely tired, and this battle had truly pushed him to his limits, he knew there was no time to rest. Even with the Howling Chasm’s suppressive effects hindering perception, such an explosive fight could have drawn someone’s attention. He needed to move quickly.

With a firm grip, he yanked his sword from the chest of the dead Voroe Sage, wiping the blood off its blackened blade. Without hesitation, he stored the corpse in one of his space rings before unleashing a wave of fire that surged through the battlefield.

The flames roared as they consumed his spilled blood and any trace of his presence, ensuring no evidence remained. Vlad had no idea what kind of strange powers the Vorometallicae wielded, and he wasn’t going to take any risks. If they could use his remains to track him, curse him, or employ some other insidious ability against him, he had to eliminate any chance of that happening.

Satisfied that all traces of the battle had been erased, Vlad turned and activated the power of his A.I. Chip. His body surged with renewed vigor as he dashed through the labyrinthine canyons, skillfully avoiding any encounters. As he moved, he consumed a healing elixir prepared by Jormungandr. The warm sensation spread through his veins, accelerating his recovery, but the pain from the burning wounds on his chest was a stark reminder of how dangerous fighting the Voroe Sages truly was.

A solemn expression formed on his face as he wondered how the others were faring. While staying together would have been the safest choice, their purpose here was to fight and push themselves to their absolute limits. That was difficult to achieve when surrounded by comrades ready to intervene at the first sign of trouble.

Thus, they had chosen to split up. Of course, they remained within the range of their A.I. Chips, allowing them to communicate with one another, but that didn’t mean they were safe. If one of them fell into a life-threatening battle, reinforcements would take time to arrive, and sometimes, mere seconds could decide life or death.

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While Vlad was searching for a place to recover, a cataclysmic battle unfolded just a few hundred kilometers away. Two colossal figures clashed with such power and momentum that the very ground beneath them shattered with every strike.

One of the combatants was a forty-meter-tall humanoid dragon wreathed in fire, his bulging muscles radiating pure strength. Long, jagged horns protruded from his forehead, resembling the twisted crown of a tyrant. He was none other than Fafnir, the Depravita of Envy.

His opponent was a monstrous Vorometallicae—an unholy fusion of an elephant and a dragon forged from supernatural ice-infused metal ores. Towering over fifty meters tall and weighing thousands of tons, this Voroe Sage was an armored juggernaut. His body was encased in jagged froststeel and cryoshard, radiating an aura of deep cold that blanketed the battlefield in frost. His elephantine head bore long, razor-sharp tusks made of frozen steel, and his serpentine trunk was covered in layers of glacial metal. His dragon-like torso was encased in jagged ice-forged plating, while his spiked, armored tail gleamed like frozen steel.

The Depravita and Vorometallicae bore the marks of their brutal exchange. A deep, frozen wound pierced Fafnir’s stomach, seemingly inflicted by one of the Voroe Sage’s tusks. Meanwhile, the elephant-dragon hybrid had suffered a massive, burning gash along his side, his wound carved so deep that the bone was visible beneath the seared flesh.

Fire and ice collided as the two behemoths charged at one another, their clash generating a massive explosion that sent shockwaves tearing through the surrounding landscape. Fafnir gritted his teeth as he seized the Voroe Sage’s tusks, attempting to push the monster back. However, the sheer weight and strength of his opponent made it an incredibly difficult feat.

The Voroe Sage’s eyes glowed with killing intent as his serpentine trunk, layered in glacial metal, lashed forward at terrifying speed, aiming for Fafnir’s already wounded chest. But Fafnir was faster. The claws on his right leg flashed upward, seizing the incoming trunk before slamming it into the frozen ground, incapacitating one of his opponent’s deadliest weapons.

He didn’t stop there.

Opening his maw wide, Fafnir channeled his Depravita Aura into his lungs. The infernal energy within him coalesced into a singular force before he unleashed a devastating torrent of dark flames at point-blank range, consuming the Voroe Sage’s face in a blazing inferno.

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Not far from Fafnir’s battlefield, another equally intense duel was unfolding. However, this one was far faster, with only flashes of golden light and dark energy streaking through the depths of the canyon. The two figures collided repeatedly, each impact generating shockwaves that flattened the surrounding terrain.

Finally, both combatants leaped back, landing on opposite sides of the battlefield. They remained in their fierce battle stances, eyes locked on one another.

One was an imposing white werewolf, his body reinforced with draconic scales and a specialized exoskeleton. He wore an ornate suit of white armor, its gleaming plates engraved with runes. He was none other than Ouroboros, the Depravita of Greed.

The ferocity of the battle was immediately evident in his injuries. His left arm hung limply at his side, the shoulder joint shattered by a vicious blow. The deep, ragged wound that marred his flesh had likely fractured the bone beneath, leaving him at a disadvantage.

His opponent was a Vorometallicae resembling a humanoid lion, his body forged from living metal infused with gold and earth ores. His feral, snarling face was a blend of molten metal and solid stone. His muscular frame was covered in jagged metallic plating composed of gold-infused rock and molten minerals, forming a natural armor impervious to ordinary attacks.

Yet, despite his formidable defenses, the Voroe Sage was also severely wounded.

His lower jaw was gone.

Blood and molten metal dripped from the gaping wound where his mouth had once been, a clear testament to the price he had paid to cripple Ouroboros’s left arm.

Even so, the Voroe Sage’s eyes burned with undying rage and killing intent. He had lost a vital part of himself, but his killing intent remained unshaken.