Chapter 285: A Fate Called Demise

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Moments before Apollo unleashed the strike,

Zarkath turned towards the source of dread he was feeling. Compared to before, it had amplified many times over. In fact, it had grown to a point that made his strikes even more ludicrous. Typhir's battered body slammed against a rampart causing it to shatter. Yet, even after that impact, he continued to bounce and skid against the ground.

With a swing of his halberd, Zarkath sent a burst of dark energy towards Furcas who guarded himself by using his pitchfork. Despite doing so, his body still felt the aftershock of the strike and dropped to his knees. Be that as it may, Furcas remained with a grin on his face.

'It is too late, his preparations are already complete. Furthermore, his partner has assisted him in making the move even more terrible,' Furcas thought while staying in place. He didn't react outside of this defensive posture.

Therefore, Zarkath knew something was amiss. When Furcas didn't follow up with any further action despite the signs of a stable aura, it raised flags in his mind. 

Thus, he squinted and prepared himself, 'He's definitely up to something. Else, he would have continued to assist.'

All of a sudden, he made a step in retreat, "Two auras now? What is this second one?" 

Unfortunately, it was too late to run now. Apollo appeared in the opening in the rampart structure in which Zarkath smashed Typhir through. 

"Ouroboros, impart some energy to Typhir," Apollo instructed while holding the power of the Third Annihilation in his hand. Needless to say, Ouroboros obliged.

As Zarkath laid his eyes upon Ouroboros, he didn't understand what he was looking at. He squinted while trying to determine what this beast was, 'This beast feels like a royal demon, but I have never heard of a lineage that presents this sensation. Is my information surrounding the numerous types of demons this lacking?'

Of course, it wasn't that his knowledge was lacking. It was simply that the infant form of Ouroboros' species looked nothing like the mature form. If he saw that form, he would understand just what existed before his eyes. In fact, there was also a chance he would flee without a second chance. Sadly, this course of action was viable for the current situation.

"You said your name was Zarkath, correct?" Apollo asked.

"Indeed, but what brings it upon you to ask this question?" Zarkath responded with another question while tightening his grip on his halberd. Veins filled with Hellfire flowed towards the tip as his eyes fell upon Apollo's left hand.

Even though it seemed invisible, he was sure that his senses weren't betraying him. There was something within Apollo's hand that made him feel deep fear. However, on another note, he also found this to be unacceptable. An Archdemon feeling fear towards a Lesser  Demon was unprecedented!

Be that as it may, the gem on Apollo's forehead pulsated before the Domination Intent leaked from Apollo's body until it once again formed the Domination Domain, "It's quite simple, I would like to at least provide you with the respect of knowing your name before you perish."

"Hoh, those words; the implications behind them are quite heavy. Are you certain you can live up to those claims? The day a Lesser Demon slays an Archdemon is the day I'll fall to my knees and plead to the useless fallen Monarch," Zarkath chuckled.

But, he made a mistake. Not just Apollo, even Furcas' eyes narrowed. At the same time, another presence disliked the words they just heard. 

"The fallen Monarch, heh. May you also appear in the valley of the fallen," Apollo chuckled before releasing a burst of strong energy. Slowly, the Umbra Phantom Mantle crept up his body. Despite his nearly empty reserves, he needed to make sure his speed was fast enough to be on par with Zarkath.

After all, what good was a powerful strike if it couldn't touch the enemy. Not to mention, according to the information that flowed within his mind, he wasn't exactly sure just how high the parameters of the Third Annihilation were. 

All of a sudden, Apollo made his move. A small sonic burst lingered at the origin of pursuit. Zarkath responded in kind and braced the halberd on his arm before dashing forward. At this moment, everything on the battlefield was within Apollo's purview. It was unbeknownst to him, but a smile appeared on his face.

The feeling of lingering on the edge of death excited him more than he knew. It gave him a sense of accomplishment when the thrill of overcoming the strong was evident. When he thrust his hand forward, Zarkath did so as well.

There was a silence for some time before outrageous winds billowed from the contact point of their collision. But, a moment later, something strange took place. The winds that were spilling outward reversed and flowed back as if time was being reversed but that was incorrect. 

In truth, Apollo's hand created a vortex that then started to devour everything around it. This rang true for Zarkath's strike as well. The moment he became privy to this, Zarkath layered his aura in bursts in an attempt to overwhelm the attack.

Regrettably, as much as he released was just as much as Apollo's strike devoured.

"Your actions appear to be futile! Don't you know, these strikes were made to annihilate. Anything that seeks to confront me shall be dealt with in the same way. Thus, you shall be devoured," Apollo revealed with a dark grin. Shortly after, he muttered, "Third Annihilation: Devouring Nebula Strike."

In a matter of seconds, all of the remaining Anima was sucked drying but it was used as a trigger. The small point of devouring collapsed and then exploded outward across a vast radius. As a result, Furcas had to grab Typhir's body and retreat.

In wake of this attack, pure destruction followed. An obstructive cloud of dirt was kicked up that prohibited Furcas from seeing the outcome. He then looked to the sky to determine whether or not everything went as plan. It was short, but for a while, Furcas frowned.

'Oh no…'

'Fwooosh!' 

From within the cloud, a damaged figure burst out. Albeit weak, his aura was still apparent. 

"Preposterous! What type of technique could a meager Lesser Demon like you have to create all this destruction?" Zarkath bellowed. Afterward, his chest heaved as he feel to one knee. There wasn't an inch of his body that didn't possess a wound. Clearly, defending against the strike was only possible due to his attainments as an Archdemon.

If he was a mere Greater Demon, he would have already perished.

On the other hand, Apollo's body swayed as the dust cleared to display his powerless body. That single confrontation left him in such a defenseless state. Luckily, Zarkath wasn't in a good situation either. On the surface it seemed like he was the winner, but one thing was overlooked. There was still Ouroboros as well Furcas. 

Should they team up, the outcome of Zarkath was unknown! While Apollo's possessions were attractive, they weren't more attractive than his own life. Thus, Zarkath raised his hands in defeat.

"I suggest we let bygones be bygones. It isn't worth my life to take this any further. You may enter the Link Portal if you wish," Zarkath said before taking another step back to symbolize his genuine intentions. 

For a moment, Furcas played along but he realized something in Zarkath's star that he did make known, "Very well. This has escalated far enough. As you say, any further would be a deathwish."

With Typhir in one hand, Furcas arrived next to Apollo. Aside from the injuries to his outsides, there were no injuries internally. The pendant, while unable to replenish his energy, still healed his body. 

Suddenly, Furcas smirked. A portal opened right before Apollo and from inside, a tall demon dressed in dark armor walked through. His eyes were cold as he looked upon Zarkath.

"You intend to retreat? Unfortunately for you, that isn't an option. When you mentioned the fallen Monarch, your fate was sealed. Now, travel to the Netherworld and rot in the pits of the abyss," Fuhrer said before drawing BRynhildr. Since his reserves were nearly tapped out, Zarkath was unable to put up much of a fight.

In fact, as he swung his sword, Fuhrer executed an effortless Devouring Nebula Strike. But, his slash seemed different. It was like it was made from his own comprehension. It didn't possess the faint aura of the Sin, instead, it was as if he molded the strike from his own Tenebrous Way.

A look of horror appeared on his face as half of his body was slashed in half. However, before he could execute him, an order resounded throughout the air.

"Halt!"