Since last night, the dueling platform of Nightblaze Prefecture had been packed to capacity.
Only the Highgods had a bit of breathing space around them. As for the Gods and Demigods—shoulder to shoulder was an understatement. There was barely room to stand.
Yet not a single complaint could be heard.
This—
Was the first public appearance of a Seven-Star Fiend.
Over the years, everyone had come to understand something about Fiend rankings.
Each star represented roughly a tenfold gap in strength.
By common estimation, Prefect Kurus possessed strength at the Six-Star Fiend level.
Lord Locke, however, was the only publicly acknowledged Seven-Star Fiend of the Fiend Castle.
In such a situation, their clash might very well be decided in an instant.
No one wanted to miss it.
At last—
Dawn broke.
A golden ray of morning light spilled across the arena.
Without sound—
Without warning—
Locke appeared in midair above the dueling platform.
No one saw him arrive.
No one sensed him approach.
It was as though he had always been there—
Hidden beyond perception until he chose to be seen.
Or perhaps—
He had traversed space itself, arriving in a single breath.
The arena fell utterly silent.
Even the three thousand Highgods in attendance felt their breathing tighten.
They had seen Locke's projection images before.
But this—
This was different.
The real Locke was oppressive beyond comparison.
Most Highgods possessed merely ordinary Highgod divine power.
A rare few had doubled divine power.
That alone qualified them as elites.
But before Locke—
Even breathing felt difficult.
Ninefold Highgod divine power radiated without restraint.
The air trembled.
Space subtly distorted around him.
Someone whispered hoarsely:
"Seven-Star Fiends… terrifying beyond measure."
Of course—
Not all Seven-Star Fiends possessed divine power of this magnitude.
In truth, aside from Paragons or extremely rare soul-mutated Highgods, almost none could match Locke's divine power.
Even the Prefects of later eras—those who reached Asura level—often relied on fusing five Profound Mysteries.
In terms of pure divine power, they might only possess five- or sixfold amplification.
This revealed just how terrifying Locke's soul foundation truly was.
Locke closed his eyes.
He let the pressure expand freely.
This battle—
Was his declaration.
He would establish authority.
Prove absolute strength.
Only then could the Fiend Castle expand across Hell without obstruction.
He did not wait long.
Upon learning that Locke had appeared, Kurus departed the Prefectural Mansion immediately.
As Prefect, he was not bound by ordinary regulations.
He descended like a streak of lightning, landing fifty meters before Locke.
"Truly worthy of the title 'Seven-Star Fiend,'" Kurus said with genuine admiration.
"To witness it in person surpasses reputation."
Locke opened his eyes.
"Kurus."
"Half a year ago, you acknowledged Fiend privileges in this Prefecture. I accept that goodwill."
"Now."
"Prepare yourself."
"I will use only the power I have just reached at the Seven-Star threshold."
"I will strike once."
"If your strength is not merely at the beginning of Six-Star level…"
"There is a high chance you will survive."
"That is already my greatest concession."
A murmur spread.
Yet no one found his words arrogant.
A Seven-Star Fiend was over ten times stronger than a Six-Star.
If Locke's strike did not visibly demonstrate Seven-Star might—
It would not suffice.
As for Kurus—
He sought stronger power.
Even death would not deter him.
But if survival were possible—
Why refuse?
"Then I thank Lord Locke for his mercy in advance."
Lightning exploded around Kurus.
Violet armor manifested across his body.
The sky darkened.
Thunder rolled.
A spear of pure lightning condensed in his hand—his supreme divine artifact, forged from his own horn, nurtured for countless years within storm clouds.
The heavens trembled at its emergence.
"I am ready!"
Locke raised his right hand.
Then—
He casually pressed forward.
No thunder.
No spectacle.
Just—
"Crack."
Space shattered like glass.
A deep fissure tore open, stretching over a dozen meters.
Not a shallow tear.
A true spatial rift.
Beyond it—
Swirling multicolored spatial turbulence churned violently.
Every spectator felt their soul's quake.
Just one touch of that chaos—
And they would be erased.
"ROAR!"
Kurus unleashed his strongest innate divine ability.
A massive hundred-meter unicorn phantom appeared behind him.
Lightning gathered upon its horn.
Even stray arcs split the surface layer of space.
But compared to Locke—
The difference was clear.
Kurus's attack tore only the surface.
Behind his fractures was darkness.
Behind Locke's—
Primordial chaos.
The unicorn phantom merged into Kurus's spear.
With overwhelming momentum, he thrust.
"Pop."
The result was instantaneous.
Kurus's full-force strike—
Collapsed like a bubble.
The spatial rift devoured it entirely.
Then advanced.
Layer after layer of lightning shields shattered.
His Highgod defensive armor cracked—
Then exploded.
"Pffft!"
Blood sprayed.
Horror filled Kurus's eyes.
The tearing force ripped at his divine body.
Divine power surged from his spark desperately, repairing damage as fast as it formed.
He erupted with power, attempting to escape the rift's pull.
He understood—
If his divine body collapsed even briefly—
He would be dragged into the spatial turbulence.
And once inside—
He would not survive a single breath.
Fortunately—
Locke had truly limited himself to entry-level Seven-Star strength.
As the natural laws of the plane began to mend the fracture—
The suction weakened.
Kurus barely escaped.
He hovered in midair, gasping heavily.
His hands trembled.
One strike—
And over half his divine power was gone.
Two more—
And he would die from exhaustion alone.
So, this—
Was a Seven-Star Fiend.
The spectators were frozen.
What had they just witnessed?
A casual palm strike—
And space itself split open.
Prefect Kurus—
Had no ability to resist.
Crushed.
Overwhelmed.
Was this the might of a Seven-Star Fiend?
And those spatial currents…
Just looking at them invoked terror.
Then—
They remembered.
Locke had said—
This was only the power he had "just reached."
Did that mean—
Only those capable of tearing into true spatial turbulence qualified as Seven-Star?
Kurus steadied himself.
Without hesitation—
"Lord Locke… I concede."
He was not foolish.
Locke had clearly restrained himself.
To pretend otherwise—
Would invite ridicule.
He had seen the gap.
Felt it.
There was no shame in acknowledging it.
Above the arena—
Locke lowered his hand calmly.
Authority—
Had been established.
The era of the Fiend Castle—
Had finally begun.
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