The collision was cataclysmic.
The sky split in half.
Demonic flames and pure, raw power met in a collision that didn't just shake the earth—it shattered the concept of balance itself. For a heartbeat, nothing existed—no sound, no time, no gravity. Just raw rule clashing against rule, belief clashing against belief.
But although the attack was fierce, both held their ground. As the dust settles, both are still standing tall; however, it is clear the ancient person from the sanctum has the upper hand.
Aravin chains were cracked; even some were destroyed in their confrontation, as although the rule of demons was extraordinary, the difference in the understanding of rules was quite different.
Arvain panted, eyes burning but unwavering. The demonic phantom behind him flickered, visibly weakened, but its gaze remained defiant. Despite this, his presence continued to evoke a sense of a looming black storm.
