"Lord Locke, may our battle begin?"
Though inwardly furious, Vishto Belloso's smile only grew brighter when he imagined crushing Locke beneath his feet.
"My apologies, Prefecture Lord Vishto Belloso. I was distracted for a moment."
Snapped back to attention, Locke offered a polite, almost embarrassed smile.
"No, the one who should apologize is me."
"If my strength were worthy of Lord Locke's attention, you wouldn't be distracted during our fight."
"In the end, I'm simply too weak to deserve your seriousness."
That remark instantly made those who already disliked Locke resent him even more.
Reverence for strength was one thing—
But ignoring one's opponent on the dueling stage?
That was humiliation.
"Haha. If the Prefecture Lord of Bloodriver calls himself weak, then no one in all of Hell would dare claim to be strong."
Locke shook his head lightly.
"Enough talk. Vishto Belloso—let us begin."
"Heh. As you say."
Vishto accepted the compliment smoothly.
After all—
With what he possessed now, who would dare call him weak?
"Then, Lord Locke… be careful. I'm coming."
He opened his right hand.
A single drop of black liquid appeared in his palm.
A terrifying pressure radiated from it.
For a brief instant, many in the stands felt as though a Sovereign had descended.
"What is that?"
"That pressure…!"
"I didn't expect the Prefecture Lord to have such a trump card. This battle just became uncertain…"
No one knew what the black drop was.
But its aura screamed supremacy.
Under countless gazes, Vishto drew upon it with soul force and absorbed the black Sovereign's Might into his body.
BOOM!
Black flames erupted around him.
A crushing aura exploded outward.
"Hahahahaha!"
Power—limitless power—flooded him.
The sensation that he could destroy everything with a wave of his hand intoxicated him.
"AAAAAHHH!"
Even his laughter carried destructive force.
Many Highgods clutched their ears in agony.
That single drop—
What was it?
How could it elevate a Prefecture Lord to such heights?
"Seven-Star Fiend Locke!"
Vishto roared.
"I will show you that challenging me was the greatest mistake of your life!"
He reveled in the fear on the spectators' faces.
But when he looked at Locke—
He saw no fear.
No shock.
Only calm.
"Oh?"
Locke tilted his head.
"I've done many things in my life. So far, I've yet to regret any of them."
"Prefecture Lord… are you ready?"
"If you are, I'll begin."
"What?!"
Vishto froze for a split second.
"Have you not seen my state?"
"My strength has increased hundreds of times!"
"With that treasure, I now possess at least Asura-level power—the highest classification in Fiend Castle!"
"You're merely a Seven-Star Fiend. I can kill you in one strike. Are you not afraid?"
"Asura?!"
The arena erupted.
Even before Locke replied, the Highgods were shaken.
Though Fiend Castle had only fully expanded across Ye Mu and half of Bloodriver, its power classification system had already spread throughout Hell.
Everyone knew:
Asura was the highest rank in Fiend Castle.
Locke had once shown the might of a Seven-Star Fiend.
Now the previously ordinary Prefecture Lord claimed to have surpassed that—to Asura.
Was that possible?
Yet the pressure radiating from him…
It didn't seem impossible.
"What was that black drop?"
Many were already calculating.
If they could obtain such a treasure—
Even if they didn't reach Asura…
Six-Star? Seven-Star?
Surely attainable.
"Afraid?"
Locke looked at him curiously.
"You've only reached Asura-level strength. Why should I be afraid?"
"Oh—right. You mentioned I'm a Seven-Star Fiend."
He smiled faintly.
"That was a thousand years ago."
"Unfortunately for you… I improved again."
"I am also at the Asura level now."
"If both of us stand at Asura—why would I fear someone who relies on borrowed power?"
"What?!"
Shock rippled again.
A thousand years—
To gods, that was a nap.
And during that nap, Locke broke through again?
Seven-Star to Asura?
What cultivation speed was this?
"I don't believe it!"
Vishto roared, eyes bloodshot.
Wrapped in black flames, he threw a punch.
BOOM!
Space on the arena tore open.
A massive spatial void appeared.
Chaotic spatial currents shimmered with annihilating force.
Proof that his power truly stood at Asura level.
"Vishto Belloso."
Locke shook his head lightly.
"Your power has indeed reached Asura."
"But your control… is crude."
If Locke were still a Seven-Star Fiend, this attack would have been nearly impossible to withstand.
But now—
His strength had increased another tenfold.
He casually extended his hand.
Rip—
A larger spatial fissure opened.
Vishto's spatial void was swallowed entirely.
Not even a ripple remained.
Then Locke gently raised his palm.
"Thousand-Mile — Heaven PiercingPalm."
Silently—
A white jade palm manifested before Vishto's chest.
It pressed lightly.
BOOM!
Space behind Vishto shuddered.
A spatial rift dozens of meters long tore open behind him.
The aftershock alone ripped the void.
Vishto's body shattered instantly.
Yet—
The Sovereign's Might surged.
His body reformed in an instant.
Not a scratch remained.
Locke sighed faintly.
So, he still couldn't kill him in one blow.
As long as Sovereign's Might remained—
His attacks meant little.
"I… I didn't die?"
After several breaths, Vishto recovered from near-death terror.
Then he laughed wildly.
"Hahaha!"
"You see, Locke?"
"Even with Asura-level strength—you cannot kill me!"
Abandoning defense entirely, he unleashed a storm of attacks.
Spatial rifts split open again and again.
Violent suction twisted into tornadoes across the arena.
Locke calmly extended a finger and traced a circle.
Another spatial fissure formed.
Every attack was swallowed.
Not a single strike reached him.
Yes—
Vishto's attacks could tear open Hell's space.
That was proof of power.
But it was also proof of poor control.
Each rift consumed a portion of his force to heal itself.
By the time the attacks reached Locke's fissure—
They lacked the strength to break through.
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