The sky was no longer gray with silence.
It burned.
A slow, steady blaze hung across the clouds like a dragon's breath. The air wavered, dense and distorted, as if reality itself gasped beneath the heat. Everything within Nebulous Lord's Essence Manifestation simmered under its touch—not instantly devoured, but caught in the endless process of consumption.
The Abysmal Belial howled like a tortured spirit.
But its wings sagged. Its movements dulled. Its four limbs, once precise and deadly, now dragged slightly—burdened by a heat it couldn't escape.
And Nebulous Lord moved.
Without warning.
Without flourish.
Just raw power.
He appeared behind the Abysmal Belial—just as the abomination had done to him.
Only this time, it wasn't speed. It was gravity.
The air split with a violent sound. Nebulous Lord's fist crashed into the side of the creature's skull.
Crack.
