Leornars Servs Avrem Vs Anos voldigoad
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"The Deathless Tyrant vs. The White Plague"
The sky was torn asunder.
Reality split like glass as Leornars Servs Avrem, the White Plague, descended—his presence alone dissolving logic, rewriting the rules of space and time. Beneath the cascading storms of erased dimensions, stood Anos Voldigoad, his sword Venuzdonoa humming with the power of destruction that defies all reason.
Anos narrowed his eyes.
"So… you're the one they call the Ten-Wall Breaker."
Leornars, hovering above fractured ground, tilted his head. His silver-white hair fluttered with no wind, eyes glowing like twin supernovae.
"I'm the reason walls exist," he whispered. "And you… are merely fiction written within mine."
With a flick of his wrist, entire conceptual structures collapsed. Magic circles that had never existed were instantly invoked—commands erased from the script of the universe.
Anos smiled.
"Interesting. But fiction or not, I erase anything that stands in my path."
He charged.
Reality trembled. Every step of Anos shattered a different law—causality, mass, time symmetry—cracking with each movement. In a single breath, he appeared before Leornars, Venuzdonoa raised.
CLASH!
Venuzdonoa met Leornars' bare hand—yet instead of being destroyed, it rewrote the blade's story, nullifying its anti-conceptual nature momentarily.
"You think a sword that erases can harm me?" Leornars smirked. "I own even the void it draws from."
Anos's eyes blazed.
"Then I'll crush your entire narrative!"
He chanted instantly in Old Demon Language, summoning Dimensional Severance, Infinite Resurrection, and the Root Source of Tyranny—ten million spells in parallel. The world turned black and white under the pressure of Anos' casting.
But Leornars didn't chant.
He spoke one word:
"Erase."
Every spell Anos created vanished. No backlash. No resistance. As if they were never thought of.
But Leornars flinched.
Anos grinned.
"You're strong. But not flawless. You didn't erase me."
"...You are persistent," Leornars said. "Like a smudge that rewrites itself."
The second clash turned the multiverse inside out.
Fragments of gods fled from the shockwave. Stars realigned to avoid the strike. Leornars summoned his Ten-Wall Core, a reality engine that controlled fiction, nonfiction, imagination, and perception. From it, he created Nihility Constructs—beings born from unrealized truths.
Anos summoned his Creation Origin, rewriting himself to a being immune to non-existence, then cast Elder Epoch Reset, forcing the cosmos into a recursive loop where he always won.
But it failed.
Leornars rewrote the recursion.
He stepped outside of time—beyond even the viewer's comprehension—and stabbed Anos with a spear of Meta-Erasure, forged from broken storytelling and deleted endings.
Anos dropped to a knee.
But laughed.
"You've reached the peak, Leornars… but you never learned one thing."
Leornars frowned.
"A true Demon King never dies," Anos roared, tearing the concept of death from his own soul. In that instant, he rewrote Leornars' name, challenging the narrative authority itself.
The battle ruptured storytelling.
Authors forgot how to write.
Readers lost memory of endings.
But even then…
Leornars rose above it.
His voice shook what remained of existence.
"I am the absolute. Not because I cannot be beaten—but because I refuse to let the concept of defeat exist."
And so, in the infinite silence…
The battle did not end.
It continues—in layers deeper than fiction, in recursion beyond omnipotence, in worlds yet unwritten—an eternal stalemate between two monsters who refuse to lose.