Slash!
The moment Alex summoned the [Scythe of Hatred], he swung it in one clean arc, the motion swift and precise, too fast to follow.
In an instant, Nocteron’s head was severed from his body.
But it didn’t end there.
Life Drain!
The [God of Death] revived immediately, his body reknitting itself before the next strike could connect.
With a hiss of frustration, he leapt backward, widening the distance between himself and the now completely transformed Alex.
“There’s something wrong,” Nocteron growled, eyes flickering with wariness as he glanced at Lich.
The necromancer, usually calm and unreadable, appeared genuinely shaken.
“Be careful.”
And then, it appeared.
A crimson system panel formed in midair, its edges jagged and glowing, demonic horns protruding from its top like a crown of malevolence.
[Alex Rogue — Pure Hatred Form]
Both Nocteron and Lich felt the weight of that message settle into the battlefield.
This wasn’t just power, it was something beyond their expectations, something neither of them could afford to ignore.
But even so, retreat wasn’t an option. Not now.
“He only has one life,” Nocteron shouted, forcing a surge of confidence into his voice, “I can feel it, he’s mortal in this state. We just need to kill him once!”
He wasn’t wrong. Alex could feel it too.
When he had embraced this form, overtaken by the surge of hatred and wielding the [Scythe of Hatred], a silent system prompt had emerged in his mind.
[Now overtaken by hatred, you are restricted from using any active combat skills, blood arts, or destiny powers.]
[Only hatred shall reign supreme.]
His strength had been altered.
His powers, [Blood Arts], [Destiny Manipulation], even his normal skills, were sealed.
Only his summoning abilities remained intact.
His gaze flicked toward the [Undead Lord], who still stood silently by his side.
Despite everything, it remained.
Hollow eyes locked on Alex, awaiting orders.
On the opposite side, Lich and his [Undead Lord] began to prepare, their composure returning.
The air grew thick with tension, and even now, neither side dared to act recklessly.
Alex tried to unfurl his six wings, but only two emerged, [The Wings of Hatred].
The rest refused to appear.
Hatred had taken over entirely, suppressing all that wasn’t tied directly to its essence.
Still, Alex’s presence grew heavier.
His scythe lowered, pointing at the two enemies ahead.
“You… and… me…” he muttered, his voice distorted, leaking with venomous crimson mist, “I… will… destroy… everything…”
Lich’s grip tightened around his staff.
Nocteron’s expression darkened.
For a moment, they hesitated.
But then their logic returned, they still held the advantage.
Kaelios was dead.
This was a 2-on-1 fight. As long as they stayed focused, they would win.
“Get rid of it,” Lich snarled, extending his hand toward Alex’s [Undead Lord], “Make it a 3-on-1!”
Obeying the command, Lich’s [Undead Lord] called upon a dark magic, summoning skeletal arms from the soil, dozens upon dozens, each one writhing and clawing as they erupted from the earth.
The limbs latched onto Alex’s [Undead Lord], trying to tear it apart.
Some arms even lunged toward Alex, hoping to bind him as well.
But the moment they neared him—
Sssshhhh—
They disintegrated instantly, reduced to crimson particles mid-air.
Without moving, without flinching, Alex simply turned and met Lich’s gaze.
“Weak…”
Still, his [Undead Lord] was being overwhelmed.
The skeletal limbs gripped and pulled at it from every direction.
It wasn’t fighting back. It didn’t flinch. It just looked at Alex, hollow eyes unwavering.
Their eyes met.
And Alex nodded slowly.
“Do… it…”
The command was simple, but it wasn’t for an attack, it was for something far more devastating.
The only ability the [Undead Lord] had never used before.
[Crown of Undead]
[When the Undead Lord is on the verge of death or receives a fatal blow, the crown grants it a second wind by drastically enhancing its power and stats.]
Suddenly, the ground beneath the [Undead Lord] cracked open, releasing shrieks and green ethereal souls that twisted upward into the air.
And then, emerging from the depths— A crown.
Formed entirely of dark skulls, each glowing faintly with a unique hue.
It floated, slowly descending, until it rested on the [Undead Lord]’s head.
The effect was instant. Energy surged from its core.
The skeletal arms shattered as if struck by divine fury.
With newfound strength, the [Undead Lord] tore through the bindings, its body emanating a greenish-black aura of death and hatred combined.
“What the—” Lich recoiled, preparing to act.
But he was too late.
Fwish! Slash!
In a blink, Alex’s [Undead Lord] closed the distance, far faster than before, and cleaved off the head of Lich’s own [Undead Lord].
Black mist erupted as the body crumbled into dust, retreating back into the soil from which it came.
Lich stood frozen.
“You… annoying, fucking PEST.”
“Good… job…” Alex muttered to his summon, “Now… we… kill…”
But he wasn’t the only one seething now.
Nocteron stepped forward.
His aura flared violently, each footfall cracking the earth beneath him.
Waves of necrotic power rolled off his form, death energy leaking into the air.
Lich wasn’t far behind, spinning his scepter rapidly, channeling every bit of his power into one final transformation.
“Time to use my strongest form too I guess,” he roared, “You’ll regret surviving long enough to see this.”
It didn’t matter anymore that Alex had defied death.
What mattered now was that he’d become a wall they couldn’t ignore.
A mortal shell filled with so much hatred that not even death itself could extinguish it.
But they too had come too far.
They were moments away from becoming rulers of the 25 realms.
Nothing, nothing would stop them from claiming that crown.
“DEATH SHALL REIGN SUPREME!” Nocteron roared, throwing his arms to the sky, “HADES, GRANT ME YOUR POWER!”
The ground shattered open beneath him.
A massive green beam shot into the sky, made of howling souls and swirling death energy.
The light engulfed him completely, and the battlefield trembled under its force.
Then, silence.
And when the light faded, Nocteron stepped forward, changed.
[Nocteron — Underworld Ruler Form]
A terrifying pressure accompanied him now.
His armor was formed of green fire, flickering yet solid, with sharp runic markings that pulsed like veins.
His helmet wrapped tightly around his skull, the jaw jagged like the fangs of a beast, and his boots left behind trails of necrotic flame with every step.
Floating behind him was the faint, towering figure of Hades, transparent, arms crossed, bound in cracked black shackles, his expression unreadable, as if silently judging Alex.
And then—
Boom!
Another shockwave echoed from behind.
Alex turned.
Lich was finishing his own transformation.
The ground trembled once more, this time from dark, ancient magic.
A monstrous skeleton emerged, its bones pitch black, laced with violet energy.
Lich kneeled immediately.
“Monarch… please, lend me your strength…”
The skeletal figure, the [Undead Monarch], looked down at Alex with an unmistakable aura of pure hatred.
[Very well,] it rasped, voice like crumbling stone, [I do not like this mortal.]
“You really mean that?!” Lich’s eyes widened, “Then let us destroy him!”
Without another word, the monarch dissolved into black mist and surged into Lich’s body.
The necromancer’s skin darkened.
His form twisted and cracked as his voice distorted into something deeper, darker.
“Now…” Lich laughed, his voice warped and layered, “You cannot… stop us…”
Alex, however, didn’t even blink.
“Transform… all you want…” he muttered, stepping forward, crimson aura swirling like a storm around him, “It won’t change… your destiny…”