When Aeon saw that sea formed of blood and heard those sorrowful voices, his killing intent erupted, tinting the air slightly red. His face turned cold, devoid of any expression.
This blood had been formed from at least a million living beings. Seals imprisoned those souls within it, subjecting them to constant torment. Their resentment grew endlessly until they lost all rationality, becoming nothing but tortured spirits that would attack and tear apart the soul of anyone before them.
Aeon lowered his stance slightly and raised his black sword above his head with both hands. Suddenly, the purple dragon seal engraved on the blade lit up. A massive bloodthirsty aura burst from the sword, absorbing all of Aeon's killing intent without leaving a single trace in the air.
A dragon's roar resounded, spreading across the entire city and beyond. It was filled with a violent, bloodthirsty aura.
A crimson color condensed along the edge of the blade. The world around Aeon fell silent, as if his sword was draining sound itself from existence, leaving behind lifeless stillness.
"Blood Crescent Splitting the Sky."
Aeon spoke coldly as he brought his sword down with full force. This was his strongest attack, alongside his aura projectile—the peak of his current power.
A crescent-shaped blade of blood shot out from the sword, growing larger and larger until it exceeded thirty meters in length. The sea of blood was already only dozens of meters away from Aeon, and the moment he swung, it was already upon him.
The blood crescent collided with the raging sea.
The scene Nick had expected—that the sea would swallow Aeon and devour his soul—did not happen. The hands of the resentful spirits tried to grasp the blade, but it was useless. The blood crescent continued forward, indifferent to them.
Instead, the sea split into two under the force of the crimson crescent.
When Nick saw that blade, a cold shiver ran down his spine. Gritting his teeth, he poured more and more mana into the sea of blood.
The sea churned violently, as if boiling from intense heat. The wails of the resentful spirits grew louder. They became more ferocious, wrapping themselves around the crescent until it was completely covered. The blade slowed… more and more… until it nearly stopped.
Then—
A dragon's roar erupted from the blood crescent.
It became even more violent, even deeper crimson than before. The resentful spirits clinging to it evaporated from existence. The blade surged forward once more—faster and stronger than before.
It advanced with overwhelming force and ferocity, completely splitting the sea in half and continuing toward the massive crimson spell circle.
"No!!"
Nick roared hysterically, trying to pull back the cylinder—but it was too late.
The blood crescent struck it.
Explosion!
The cylinder detonated with immense force. The blast radius was enormous, swallowing both Nick and Aeon, along with several unfortunate evil-path spectators at the edges.
An area over a thousand meters wide was completely erased. The spectators were gone without a trace.
Aeon rose, trembling from intense pain. His bones creaked, screaming for him to stop, to collapse—but he couldn't. He had to confirm Nick's death. He knew he was still alive—there was no way he would die so easily.
A veteran of dozens of battles, Aeon had instinctively canceled his second form the moment he sensed danger, returning to his first form—the one that provided his strongest defense. Otherwise, he would not have survived with just these injuries.
What Aeon didn't know was that the cylinder would explode with such overwhelming force. It wasn't merely a container—it was a complete artifact used to cultivate millions of souls and channel them into the sea of blood. It required a powerful core to suppress and seal such an immense number of spirits; otherwise, they would simply escape.
Aeon's blood crescent had destroyed the cylinder's defensive enchantments and struck its core directly, causing the catastrophic explosion.
What he also didn't know was that this cylinder was one of the treasures of the Corpse Demon Sect. There were only ten of them in the entire sect, possessed only by elders and the sect leader. The one Nick had used was borrowed from one of the elders… and now it had been completely destroyed.
Aeon staggered forward. Red dust and the smell of blood filled the air. He tried to sense Nick's aura, but the explosion had slightly disturbed space itself, making his senses chaotic and far less precise.
*Cough… cough…*
Aeon heard coughing coming from his right.
His killing intent surged again as he entered his first form. The memory of those tortured spirits filled him with unbearable rage.
Nick lay on the ground, coughing blood. His bones were exposed, and flesh had been torn away from several areas. Being closest to the explosion, he would have died if not for his quick reaction—he had sacrificed a corpse, placing it in front of him to absorb most of the damage.
When he thought about it, a chill ran through him. Then he remembered the corpses and the cylinder he had lost—his face turned pale with terror.
His father would definitely kill him.
Suddenly sensing a killing intent enveloping him, Nick turned his gaze—
And saw Aeon charging toward him, sword in hand.
His pupils shrank sharply. He had never expected Aeon to survive. He had been certain that even if Aeon didn't die in that explosion, he would at best be on the brink of death.
Nick tried to move—but the pain and injuries left him unable to even move a single finger.
Aeon raised his sword, gathering the last of his strength, preparing to strike and kill Nick—
When suddenly—