As Varvatos' fingers snapped, reality folded inward. Space twisted, shimmered, and like paper burning from the edges, the throne room dissolved. In a heartbeat, Milim, Midray, and Varvatos now stood within an isolated dimension—one sculpted from pure magicule energy, timeless and boundless. The sky above was a swirling vortex of deep crimson and violet, and the ground below mirrored a seamless obsidian plain that stretched infinitely in all directions.
A realm made for gods to fight freely.
Midray stood frozen, in awe at the sheer quality of the space. Even the aura in this realm felt "alive." He clenched his fists, watching closely, knowing Milim would go all out.
Varvatos floated above the ground, arms folded behind his back, his coat flapping lightly even though there was no wind.
"Now, Milim…" he said calmly, "Show me what destruction truly means."
Milim's lips curled into a grin so wide it nearly split her face.
"Heh… you're gonna regret asking for it!"
Her aura exploded.
A violent cyclone of raw energy erupted from her body, shaking the entire dimension. The ground cracked under her pressure. Her pink hair flicked upward, and her usual childish attire dissolved in light—replaced by her battle form.
Her battle form was stunning and terrifying:
obsidian dragon-scale armor laced with golden runes etched in ancient draconic script. Her eyes turned feral—slitted like a true dragon's—and a fiery glow pulsed through her veins. Her wings unfurled—massive, leathery, and glowing with destructive energy.
Her Ultimate Skill, Satanael: Lord of Wrath, activated.
The air screamed.
The Magicule Breeder Reactor within her core began generating infinite amounts of energy, her body absorbing and amplifying it. Her muscles grew denser, her veins surged with violent magic, and her fists… hungered for chaos.
Then she was gone.
Varvatos' eyes sharpened the moment her aura flickered.
BOOM!
Milim appeared behind him mid-air, her fist already cocked back.
"DRAGON FANG!"
A golden shockwave exploded from her punch, the sheer pressure collapsing entire chunks of space. Varvatos pivoted his head slightly and caught her fist with a single palm—but his feet dragged back across the air as if he were skating through gravity.
"Good speed," he murmured, eyebrows lifting slightly. "And impressive wrath."
Milim spun midair, kicking Varvatos across the chest with enough force to shatter a mountain. He flew backward like a comet, slamming into the dimensional wall behind them—cracking it like glass.
Milim didn't let up.
"DRAGO NOVA!"
Her mouth opened and she breathed a condensed beam of destructive elemental magic—golden fire, lightning, and void energy woven into a single blast. The beam tore toward Varvatos like a pillar of extinction.
But he emerged.
From the flames, Varvatos emerged without a scratch—coated in layers of shifting dimensional barriers that bent the attack's laws.
He waved his hand. Gravity collapsed around Milim. Her body was yanked toward the ground with the force of a collapsing star, but instead of resisting it—
She laughed.
"STAMPEDE MODE: RAGE TRIGGER!"
Her skin flushed darker. Her irises glowed blood-red. Her power began to double… then triple… with each beat of her heart. The madder she grew, the stronger she became. And right now?
She was ecstatic.
She exploded upward, her fists glowing with crimson flame.
Varvatos blocked her flurry of blows with one hand, still calm, but now focusing. Her punches were no longer mere tantrums—they were tactical. Feints, pivots, elbow shots, hooks—she was using martial technique now, learned from years of ancient dragon battles.
He activated a dimensional shift, teleporting behind her, aiming a spear-shaped burst of mana at her back—but she twisted midair and punched it apart, grinning savagely.
"DRAGO BUSTER!"
Her body became wrapped in crimson lightning and golden fire as she charged him like a bullet. Her punch cracked Varvatos' barrier and sent him flying, streaking across the dimensional horizon like a meteor.
Midray was watching, breath caught.
"She's never gone this far… even against other Demon Lords," he muttered. "Who is this man… to draw that out of her?"
Milim hovered midair, eyes glowing like twin suns.
"I'M NOT DONE YET!"
She charged again, raining down a storm of destructive punches. Every time Varvatos blocked, the shockwaves split the ground. Her aura roared louder than thunder. Her body moved faster than light. Her mind was pure instinct now.
But even as she overwhelmed the battlefield…
Varvatos' expression never changed.
His body glowed faintly, and with a single step, he shifted dimensions again—appearing directly behind her with a spell ready on his fingertip. A condensed cube of absolute silence—"Null Zone."
It locked Milim in place for a moment—just enough for Varvatos to counter.
He thrust his palm forward.
"Dimensional Compression."
Reality folded inward, and Milim was compressed into a bubble of collapsing time and space. But her eyes widened—and she screamed in rage.
The bubble exploded.
"SATANIC RAGE MODE!"
An eruption of dragonic chaos burst forth. Her power now surged to unprecedented levels. Her armor cracked with light, her wings ignited into holy-draconic flame, and she roared like the ancient dragons of myth.
Varvatos narrowed his eyes.
"Impressive," he whispered. "But now… I've seen what I needed."
He raised his hand.
A massive array of glowing runes spun behind him—circles within circles, containing hieroglyphs from an ancient language even the Voice of the World did not recognize.
He whispered a word—one that made space itself recoil.
The moment Varvatos whispered that ancient word—one not meant to be spoken in any living tongue—the air stilled. The entire dimension dimmed, and the weight of his magic pressed down like the judgment of a forgotten god.
Behind him, a thousand glowing sigils flared into existence. Each one a binding law, a seal from another reality, interlocking in a grand array. Midray, though outside the battlefield's epicenter, dropped to a knee, sweat dripping down his brow from sheer pressure.
"W-What magic is that…?" he muttered, eyes wide.
But in the center of that heavenly cascade of magic, Milim didn't kneel.
She gritted her teeth, blood trickling from her lips, her body trembling under the cosmic pressure… but her eyes were furious stars.
"You're trying to suppress me?! I HAVEN'T EVEN GONE ALL OUT YET!"
A massive crack boomed through the sky-like ceiling of the dimension. The seals flickered.
Varvatos' eyes slightly narrowed—his expression still calm, but this time, not unreadable.
"She's resisting my Divine Edict," he muttered to himself. "That shouldn't be possible unless…"
Milim roared—a sound that made the world tremble.
"STAMPEDING RAGE OVERDRIVE!!"
Her aura exploded into a primordial shockwave, golden-red fire tearing the magical laws apart. The sigils around Varvatos fractured, breaking one by one, until the entire array disintegrated like burning parchment.
In a flash, she was upon him.
"DRAGON FANG: ECLIPSE VERSION!!"
Her punch this time was backed by the force of her very soul. Varvatos raised his arm just in time, and though he caught the blow, the shockwave sent ripples through the fabric of the dimension. His barrier rippled, his hair fluttered, and his feet shifted midair for the first time.
That was power. Raw and ancient.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!
Milim became a storm of fists, each one a miniature apocalypse. Varvatos matched her movement for movement, his eyes sharp now—actually parrying instead of brushing them aside.
She pivoted, raised both hands, and channeled energy so dense the air turned golden-white.
"DRAGO NOVA: REQUIEM FORM!"
She unleashed it.
A beam of compressed destruction, pure chaos incarnate, roared toward Varvatos. For a split-second, time slowed, the beam stretching across the sky like a divine spear.
This time… Varvatos dodged.
He vanished, reappeared behind her, his hand glowing dark—a sign he was finally using his own offensive spells.
"Dimensional Shear."
He slashed the space with his palm. Reality bent, and a razor-thin cut moved toward Milim like a silent scythe. She twisted midair, just barely dodging, though a gash opened across her arm.
She smirked. "Finally…"
Milim wiped the blood with her thumb and licked it. "Now we're talking! You're getting serious!"
Varvatos' eyes gleamed faintly.
"I had to. You're starting to live up to the name of the Destroyer."
They charged again.
Their clash this time shattered stars.
Milim went into a full martial combo—fist, knee, elbow, tail whip, aerial kick—all perfectly sequenced like a war dance she'd mastered over eons. Her strikes were not just fueled by rage, but by a technique carved into her bloodline as the daughter of the Dragon Emperor.
Varvatos responded in kind—matching speed for speed, his palms glowing with reversal magic, his strikes laced with erasure energy that could unmake spells on contact.
Then—
"DRAGON DEIFICATION!" Milim roared.
Golden scales spread further across her skin. Her magicule core overloaded. Her wings ignited fully—her dragon heart beating like a war drum. She punched with enough force to create a vacuum of existence behind her.
Varvatos blocked it—but this time, he grunted.
Just softly.
And then, he smiled.
A real, small smile.
"So this is the power that terrified the old gods…" he said. "Very well, Milim Nava. You have my attention."
He pushed her away with a burst of force that bent gravity, and for the first time—
Varvatos' aura flared.
His coat lifted as his energy surged upward, colors shifting from indigo to pure white. His eyes glowed silver. Reality trembled around him, and the skies bent in reverence.
"Now… let's dance for real."
Milim, panting but grinning ear to ear, lowered into a stance.
"That's what I've been waiting for all day!"
Milim's body surged like a comet, her aura still blazing from Dragon Deification. Each movement split the air; her fists now bore miniature explosions of pressure that cratered the space around them. Every strike was backed by wrath, joy, and centuries of battle instinct.
She spun—"DRAGO BUSTER!!"—her signature, destructive, wide-arc blast shot forth in a golden wave. The ground beneath them shattered into celestial debris. Varvatos responded with a casual flick of his wrist, and a silvery dome of anti-magic formed around him.
BOOM!!
The wave dispersed harmlessly—absorbed, unraveled, erased.
Varvatos appeared behind her again—not teleporting, but moving fast enough to break the visual plane. His palm gently tapped her shoulder.
"Your movements are too wide when you're angry," he said calmly. "Too predictable."
Milim spun to retaliate, tail whipping toward him, only for Varvatos to step just one inch to the side, avoiding it with fluid grace. With the same motion, he caught her ankle mid-spin.
"And you overextend your tail strikes. That costs you center balance."
With a simple gesture, he flipped her upside-down and slammed her into the floating ground.
BOOM!!!
The floor cracked. Milim let out a small cough, magicules flaring from the impact. She jumped to her feet, a feral grin on her face.
"You're really analyzing me in the middle of a fight?! Who do you think you are?!"
Varvatos didn't respond with pride. Just a quiet stare.
"Someone who has fought your ancestors… and your descendants."
Milim's eyes widened just a touch—but the fury returned even stronger.
She burst forth again, her magicule core spinning wildly now. Her punches came faster, more unpredictable, her energy scorching the dimension.
But Varvatos had begun to read her rhythm.
"You fight with instinct. That's your gift—and your flaw."
He parried a flurry of strikes, ducked under her Dragon Fang uppercut, and then grazed her cheek with an open-palm strike laced with spatial pressure.
She was fast—lightning fast—but Varvatos was perfect. His technique, his spacing, his understanding of battle—it had transcended mere combat.
He was a walking weapon of wisdom and ruin.
Milim roared, veins glowing red.
"DRAGO NOVA: APOCALYPSE MODE!!"
She launched her most destructive spell—more than magic, it was raw creation and annihilation in one, a blazing sun of wrath surging toward Varvatos.
But this time…
Varvatos calmly raised a finger.
He traced a symbol in the air—an ancient glyph, predating even the Magicule Breeder Reactor inside her.
The spell struck him.
And disappeared.
"W-What?!" Milim gasped. "You didn't block it?! Where did it go?!"
Varvatos gently flicked the glyph—and her entire spell reformed behind him, shaped into a delicate glowing orb, like a child's toy.
"I rewrote its path," he said softly. "Your control over your magic is raw. Untamed. Learn to dominate it, not unleash it like a tantrum."
Milim didn't answer—she was furious. She screamed, surged forward again, wings spread in draconic glory—
And that's when Varvatos stepped inside her guard.
One palm on her abdomen—a soft pulse of energy.
"Stilling Touch."
Milim froze mid-punch, every muscle seized for a heartbeat.
Varvatos stepped behind her in the same motion, placing a finger to the back of her neck.
"Arcane Lock."
Her magicules compressed violently, locking her core from going into another explosive surge. She dropped to a knee, still conscious, eyes wide in confusion.
Not from pain.
But from being so precisely dismantled.
He didn't harm her.
He outclassed her. Completely.
Varvatos knelt to her level, his tone respectful but firm.
"You have more power than most beings could dream of, Milim Nava. But power is a storm. Without control, it devours you."
He stood.
"Master your rage… or one day, it will be used against you."
Midray, who had watched in awe and tension the whole time, finally spoke—his voice shaken:
"Who… are you really…?"
Varvatos turned his head slightly, offering a cryptic smirk.
"I am what existed before the first sin, and after the last light. That is all you need to know… for now."
He then snapped his fingers.
The dimension faded.
They were back in Milim's throne room.
She remained on one knee, eyes wide, heart racing—not from fear…
But from the thrill of being challenged like never before.
"I'm gonna get stronger," she muttered, clenching her fists. "Next time, I'll make you kneel…"
Varvatos vanished without a word.
But the mark he left on her would shape her for the rest of eternity.