Beyond the Apocalypse
Chapter 566: Voroe Sage’s Mage

Chapter 566: Voroe Sage’s Mage

Ouroboros took a deep breath as he focused on the Voroe Sage, calculating his next move with meticulous precision. While the gory and striking wound on the humanoid lion was far more visually dramatic than his own shattered shoulder, the reality was clear—he was on the losing side of this battle.

The Depravita’s natural regeneration abilities, granted by his Depravita Constitution, had already begun the arduous process of mending his fractured bone, but full recovery would take time, and time was a luxury he didn’t have. The Voroe Sage was not the kind of opponent to wait.

"BOOM!"

The ground beneath them fractured and cracked as the humanoid lion charged forward with terrifying force. His body radiated an aura of immense weight and sharpness, seemingly capable of cutting through any defense with sheer brute strength. Ouroboros knew he couldn’t afford to let his enemy control the tempo of the fight. If he did, he would be overwhelmed. So, instead of waiting, he moved.

"BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!" "BOOM!"

Explosions rang across the canyon as the white werewolf and the golden humanoid lion collided with earth-shaking force. Their fists, claws, and feet struck and countered each other in a blur of movement. Every impact generated shockwaves, sending dust and debris flying in every direction. As the battle raged on, blood splattered across the terrain, painting a gruesome picture of the violent exchange.

Yet, as the fight grew more intense, Ouroboros’ crippled left arm became a glaring weakness. The Voroe Sage was no amateur; he was a seasoned warrior who exploited every flaw he detected. He shifted his attacks, relentlessly focusing on Ouroboros’ injured side. Blow after blow landed, each deepening the already brutal wounds on the Depravita of Greed’s body.

A sharp and deadly gleam flashed in the Voroe Sage’s eyes as he saw an opportunity. With a growl, he pushed his power to the absolute limit and activated his Sage Ability. His right claw morphed into a massive golden drill, its surface covered in intricate spirals of rotating energy, glowing with raw destructive force. It was a weapon capable of piercing through mountains and aimed directly at Ouroboros’ vulnerable left side.

Ouroboros’ eyes widened in alarm. If that attack landed, it would be fatal. He had no time for hesitation. Just as it seemed like he was doomed, he triggered his Depravita Aura, unleashing two waves of its dark energy—one enhancing his Demon Soul and the other fueling the power of his Runic Sect.

Waves of deep, inky shadows erupted from his form, twisting and coiling around him like sentient serpents. His body shimmered for a brief moment before he vanished into the darkness.

The Voroe Sage’s attack struck nothing but empty air. His eyes widened in shock as his golden drill tore through the battlefield, but its intended target was nowhere to be found.

Then, before he could react, he felt something behind him.

A fraction of a second later, a barrage of devastating blows landed on his back. Each impact carried a monstrous level of destructive energy, breaking apart the natural metallic armor protecting his body. Shockwaves surged through his form, rupturing his internal organs and spreading havoc within.

Ouroboros’ eyes burned with unrelenting killing intent as he pushed himself beyond his limits. He continued hammering the Voroe Sage’s body with a relentless assault. During the Leviathan War, he relied heavily on his massive wolf form, which, while powerful, had restricted his speed and the full potential of his shadow abilities.

But he had abandoned that limitation in the Land of the Three Calamities. His speed, agility, and sheer lethality were now amplified to their peak. Enhanced by his Depravita Aura, his strength rivaled that of a Sage Ability.

...

Meanwhile, the final Sage-tier battle involving a Depravita was unlike the others. Suspended a few meters above the ground, two figures faced off: a small yellow cat and an obese, grotesque creature roughly five meters in length. The latter was covered in dark ores, with a massive, sagging belly and a gaping mouth that seemed to stretch upward from its torso like a pit of endless hunger.

Unlike the other duels between Depravitas and Voroe Sages, neither combatant moved an inch. Yet, their confrontation was no less intense.

The Depravita of Gluttony, Jormungandr, was constantly channeling energy from the environment into his spells, conjuring all manner of creatures from lightning-infused fire. These constructs, shaped like mythical beasts, dived toward his opponent with blinding speed.

However, the Voroe Sage mirrored his tactics. His own mouth remained open at all times, siphoning world energy to fuel his own elemental creations. From the maws covering his bloated stomach, waves of dark flame poured forth, forming creatures of their own. Twisted, demonic entities surged forward, meeting Jormungandr’s lightning-fire creations in midair.

Their battle was a clash of conjured entities, a war of summoned might. Every time a lightning-fire incarnation and a dark flame elemental met, a cataclysmic explosion erupted, sending shockwaves outward and turning the battlefield into a wasteland of chaotic energy. The ground below them had become a churning mass of destruction, forcing both combatants to remain airborne.

Neither was willing to ascend too high, as doing so would make them vulnerable targets. Instead, they hovered at a precise distance, just beyond the reach of the raging energy storm below.

As their confrontation escalated, the Voroe Sage’s eyes flickered with deadly determination. A unique force stirred within him, and the maws on his stomach began to widen—far wider than before, stretching unnaturally, as if his very body would split apart.

Then, in the next moment, an enormous beast emerged from within.

It was a nightmare made flesh—a monstrous entity the size of a building. It resembled a massive lamb, but its body was shrouded in writhing dark flames. A gigantic skull sat upon its shoulders, and a single curved horn jutted out like the blade of a guillotine. The creature exuded pure malice as it surged forward, obliterating every lightning-fire incarnation in its path.

Jormungandr’s pupils shrank as he saw the abomination charging toward him. The sheer speed and devastating power it carried made dodging nearly impossible.

Yet, despite the overwhelming danger, there was no fear in the eyes of the Depravita of Gluttony.

He did not attempt to counterattack.

He did not attempt to defend.

Instead, he took a deep breath and focused entirely on his Depravita Abilities, ready to unleash the full might of his hunger.