It wasn't just the two of them—the air, the drifting sand in the air, Roland, Lancelote, Elaine, and Talice—all were frozen in place.
Though everything in the scene was motionless, their consciousness could still feel the clash between the void and reality. The void was frantically trying to devour the dazzling life force, while life was desperately trying to fill, burst, and crush the void. The two forces were constantly wearing each other down.
Void and reality—this was no longer a contest of strength. These were the two most fundamental attributes of existence. The aftermath of their collision had already enveloped everything around, halting all movement.
But this immobility was only because the gap in power was too vast. After all, this wasn't the original moment of the universe's birth—when pure void and pure reality first clashed. So time itself had not truly come to a halt.
A flash of blue light flickered, and Moriel's massive figure appeared behind Asa. Only a Holy Dragon possessed enough power to break through the grip of this aftershock.
Moriel was undoubtedly the most powerful being present. In terms of combat ability and raw strength, she even surpassed Grutt by far. But she had not made a move until now. Unlike Grutt, she understood her purpose here very clearly—she was here to fight. No matter how wild and untamed her nature might have once been, her intelligence—far beyond that of humans—and her vast battle experience had made her completely calm. She had been waiting for the best moment to strike, and now, without a doubt, that moment had come.
With a sweep of her massive tail, Asa's body was sent flying like a small straw-stuffed rag doll. The Undead King, who had seemed impervious to all attacks until now, was finally struck like an ordinary being.
As Asa was sent flying, a strange cracking sound echoed out—it came simultaneously from within both his and Grutt's bodies. But by now, no one was paying attention to that.
How powerful was the Holy Dragon's full-force strike? No one knew the answer. It was only known that even an ordinary black dragon or a common behemoth could easily tear a steel golem to shreds. Under such a mighty blow, accompanied by the sharp crackling of the air around them, Asa's body suddenly vanished.
He hadn't been shattered into dust—instead, he had been flung so fast that it surpassed the limits of human vision, so fast that even Roland and Lancelote couldn't see it. Yet in less than half an instant, he reappeared in everyone's sight, a kilometer away, right beside Moriel.
With a flicker of blue light, Moriel disappeared from where she had struck Asa and reappeared a kilometer away as well. This was no longer mere movement. No matter how fast a movement is, it's still just movement. But this—silent, traceless, and more effective than any form of motion—was something else entirely. It was instantaneous teleportation, something that could be used freely with just a thought. In the face of the Holy Dragon, space and distance held no meaning at all.
The moment she reappeared, Moriel's claws struck Asa mid-air, halting his blinding momentum entirely. Shrrrip!—a sharp, clear tearing sound echoed from Asa's body, just like when Roland's blade had sliced into his shoulder earlier, only this time it was far louder. And that was just the beginning.
Moriel's claws clamped tightly onto Asa's body. Her entire form, built of blue crystalline muscle, suddenly swelled and twisted with terrifying might. She was using her full strength, pulling with all her might in opposite directions.
Asa's body was nearly swallowed up by the dragon's massive talons—under such an overwhelming size difference, he appeared no sturdier than a single leaf. The tearing sound continued relentlessly, as the Ghost King's Robe was repeatedly shredded.
Blue flames surged from the dragon's maw, engulfing her own claws and the figure of Asa within them. As if clawing and ripping weren't enough, she unleashed every method at her disposal to obliterate, tear apart, crush, and melt the enemy trapped in her grasp.
It was as if all the calm and patience she had shown before had been for this exact moment—storing every ounce of power, fury, and killing intent to release it all in one devastating burst. From the instant she moved to now had only been the blink of an eye, yet the tide of battle had already been completely overturned.
The blue dragon breath swept across the ground, and everything it touched disintegrated into ashes. Even Moriel's crystal dragon claws slowly began to warp under the blaze, but she didn't care in the slightest. It was as if she was willing to burn out her own heart and soul if that's what it took, continuing to unleash the torrent of dragonfire without pause. The muscles in her arms bulged more and more, the crystal edges grinding and clashing, breaking off under the immense strain. Asa, caught between her claws, looked as if he could be torn into a thousand pieces at any moment.
Suddenly—a thunderous, earth-shattering dragon's roar. It was a scream of agony. Moriel's left claw abruptly shattered and disintegrated. The blue flames from her mouth also ceased with the cry.
This wasn't the effect of the dragon breath. Her shattered claw didn't break off—it dissolved into the void, just like Vadenina's body had. It was the work of the Black Star.
As the blue flames receded, Asa appeared in her remaining right claw. Astonishingly, he had not been ripped apart, nor had he melted from the dragonfire—but he wasn't far from it. The ancient armor he wore had been reduced to dangling tatters, scorched and burned, even the Ghost King's Robe failing to withstand the blue dragon's breath.
But the most terrifying thing was Asa himself. Though his expression remained hollow and vacant, his body looked like a ceramic doll on the verge of shattering. Cracks covered his form; in some places, the flesh and muscle had vanished completely, exposing bones—though no blood flowed. The exposed bones and tissue were all a ghastly shade of gray.
Most importantly, that sense of utter void—so empty it devoured everything, so empty it refused to integrate with this world—had diminished. Although the hilt of the Black Star had struck Moriel's left claw, and even the divine crystal dragon's body could not withstand the might of this apocalyptic artifact, only her left claw had shattered. The disintegration into nothingness did not spread to the rest of her body.
The power of the Black Star had indeed weakened. That seemingly eternal, unshakable darkness was finally showing signs of dimming. A glimmer of hope lit up in the eyes of Roland and Lancelote. On the faces of Talice and Elaine, the previous numbness had vanished, replaced by dazed excitement—they didn't even know whether to feel relieved and joyful, or terrified.
Moriel's left claw was gone, and Asa, reversing the grip on his sword, thrust it toward her right claw that still held him. But he never landed the strike—because Moriel had already flung him away, like an angry little girl throwing aside a broken toy. Without a sound, under her immense strength, Asa plunged into the ground like a nail into butter, leaving only a small, bottomless pit in his wake.
But it was far from over.
Even as the last echoes of her roar still lingered in her throat, Moriel had already begun rapidly chanting in the language of dragons. A strange orb of light formed between her claws—one without color, neither white nor black nor gray, but a chaotic mass of countless energies twisting and spiraling together. If the two Archmages of the Tooth Tower had witnessed this, they would have been utterly stunned—for this was pure, primordial magical energy condensed to the extreme. It was the most fundamental, most powerful, and also the most uncontrollable force of destruction. Legend said that even Akibard himself could not wield such power.
With a flick of her claw, Moriel hurled the orb of destruction straight into the deep pit where Asa had been thrown. Another claw rose—another orb began to form. She roared in fury and threw again. Then again. Then again. She tossed nearly ten of them in a furious barrage like a magical catapult, only stopping when she was finally out of breath.
The ground shuddered once. Only then did it seem like the very first orb of destruction had finally hit its target.
This was no ordinary tremor—it was a quake that jolted gravel, bone fragments, the standing figures of Lancelote and the others, and even Moriel herself, tilting her off balance as if they were all standing on the deck of a ship caught in a violent storm. Then came the second tremor—it was stronger, lifting them all off the ground slightly. It was as though the entire Flying Dragon Desert had leapt into the air.
Boom. The third surge was no longer a tremor, nor a jump—it was an explosion.
As far as one could see, the desert erupted into countless uneven slabs of earth. Dazzling flashes of energy shot upward from the cracks, tearing the land apart. The smaller chunks of terrain were hurled into the sky by the raw power surging from below, while the larger slabs tossed and tilted like boats in a tempest.
Boom! Boom! Boom… BOOM.
Even in the far distance, the nearby obsidian mountains began to collapse—the shockwaves from this assault had reached all the way to the Spiral Shadow Mountains.
The deafening roar was apocalyptic—the sky shattered, the earth split apart. Energy burst from deep underground, shredding the heavens and blasting skyward. Massive slabs of land, large as mountains, were flung upward, then crashed down onto the fractured ground, shattering and being launched again in a chaotic frenzy. From the depths of the earth, molten crimson magma surged up, spraying in every direction like a rain of fire.
It was as if the end of the world had come in that very moment. Compared to this display of power, any forbidden spell seemed as gentle as a spring breeze brushing one's face.
After a long while, this apocalyptic scene finally began to subside. No more energy surged from the depths of the earth, and the ground gradually settled—but this was no longer a desert. Much of the terrain had been completely overturned, exposing the underlying bedrock. The sands had all melted, fusing into jagged, crystal-like surfaces that jutted up in bizarre formations. Molten lava flowed everywhere, and the scorching waves of heat could cook a person alive, the air thick with the stench of sulfur. It was like the hells of legend made real.
The place where Moriel stood had become a raised mountain. In front of her, where Asa had fallen, was now a lava-spewing volcanic crater, magma bubbling and churning within it. The blue glow around her began to fade, and the crystalline structures of her body started to fall away. Even more telling, blue fluid was slowly trickling from her nose and mouth.
"I finally won… Akibard, did you see that, you brat?" she laughed, though more blue blood spilled forth—from her broken claw, from her mouth and nose—dripping like tiny rivers from her head onto the molten ground below, hissing and evaporating in foul-smelling steam. Her crystal-like muscles began to fall away piece by piece.
Transforming into the Holy Crystal Dragon had always been a supreme secret technique, used at the cost of one's own life force. Yet this frenzied onslaught had even exceeded what the crystal dragon's body could endure. Not even ten thousand years ago, during the siege against the last King of the Dead, had she unleashed such power.
But she felt no regret. At long last, she had defeated the deathly King of the Undead who once threatened to bring about the end of the world. It wasn't just about breaking the sword hilt—this was a true victory over the undead king who had grasped the hilt and merged with it. The aura deep within the earth had weakened to the point of near extinction. Even if he wasn't completely destroyed yet, he was close—so close that all it would take was to find him and stomp down once.
"Who asked you to butt in?!" Grutt roared from the foot of the volcano, yelling up at Moriel.
His body was covered in wounds, and even standing looked difficult for him. But these injuries weren't from the cataclysmic upheaval earlier—they were the result of Moriel suddenly striking Asa and sending him flying.
Two opposing forces that had been in a delicate balance had collapsed the moment one was forcibly removed. The resulting backlash struck both him and Asa. His punching fist, in particular, had been completely split open.
"Stop trying to play the hero, kid. You actually tried to match the Black Star head-on with your own power instead of going after the death king? Were you really thinking of saving that guy?" Moriel shook her head fiercely. Even in her weakened state, her presence remained fierce and unyielding. "Sure, your power seems to naturally counter the one in his hand—but did you really think you alone could dispel all the darkness and souls gathered within that thing? If I hadn't intervened, you'd have ended up just like that lich."
In the distance, Roland was slowly walking toward them. Lancelote, along with Talice and Elaine, was also rushing over. Though things had been dangerously close just now, Lancelote had still been able to protect the two of them.
"That guy still has one last breath left. Find him and finish him off," Moriel said from above, her voice firm and commanding. "Don't worry—he's weak now. Even you lot should be able to handle him…"
The sky seemed to darken suddenly. Moriel paused, then sharply turned around. From the direction of the Spiral Shadow Mountains, an endless blackness was rapidly surging toward them.
In the blink of an eye, that darkness had already arrived overhead. Everyone could see it clearly—the very tip of this advancing darkness was also its darkest point. It was a fragment of a sword, slicing through the sky, cutting through all light, severing all hope as it plummeted down toward them.
On the other side, from a massive crack in the ground, a formless shadow was slowly climbing upward—stepping over the churning lava below, with hollow, echoing footsteps and that same vacant, empty gaze.