The silence was short-lived. The Ashura King's crimson eyes blazed with a wrath that seemed to churn the very air around him, sparking tension across the hall. Gritting his teeth, he allowed his aura to explode outward, and the oppressive energy crackled around him, pressing down like a storm about to break. Despite his bruised pride and the bruises across his massive frame, he wasn't ready to yield—this would only fuel his rage further.
"Adams!" he roared, his voice an unholy blend of fury and determination that echoed off the walls. His six arms flexed, muscles bulging as he widened his stance, preparing for what would be the ultimate demonstration of his might. "Prepare yourself for the true wrath of the Ashura King. I will show you power beyond mortal comprehension!"
The King's voice dropped into a low chant, a guttural language that seemed to reverberate with a primal force. The air around him shifted, the temperature dropping sharply, and his body began to pulse with dark, crimson energy. Veins of raw power appeared across his skin, throbbing like rivers of molten lava, each pulse of energy making his towering figure even more menacing. His six arms stretched out, claws digging into the stone floor as his aura expanded, saturating the hall with a suffocating bloodlust.
"Awaken, the Demon Lord Transformation!" he bellowed, his voice deepening to a bone-chilling pitch. Crimson flames erupted from his body, wreathing him in a blazing inferno of fury. His form grew larger, his skin darkening as horns twisted from his forehead and his features contorted into something even more terrifying—a true demon incarnate. The sheer force of his transformation sent cracks spider-webbing across the floor and walls, the structure itself struggling to contain the unleashed energy.
Adams watched the display with a faint, amused smile, as if this terrifying sight was little more than a curious spectacle. His stance remained relaxed, his hands at his sides as though he hadn't the slightest concern for the destructive force before him. Yet his eyes gleamed with a new intensity, quietly acknowledging the Ashura King's newfound power.
With a thunderous roar, the Ashura King launched forward, each step carving a crater into the floor beneath him. "Take this, Adams!" he snarled, his six arms moving in a deadly synchronization as he unleashed his attack. "Hellfire Devastation!" His fists, wreathed in crimson flames, became a whirlwind of power, each strike backed by the force of a raging inferno. The flames shot forward like meteors, crashing toward Adams in a chaotic barrage.
Adams moved like smoke, gliding around the King's punches, evading each strike with precision so fine it seemed effortless. The Ashura King's strikes missed by fractions of an inch, each punch echoing through the hall like thunder. Adams ducked, sidestepped, and twisted with an almost mocking grace, never once letting the King's flames so much as singe him.
But the Ashura King's wrath only grew. He reared back, gathering all six fists into one cataclysmic attack. "Feel the wrath of the Infernal Behemoth!" he roared, his fists crashing down in a single, monumental blow. The floor beneath Adams erupted, splintering into rubble as the force of the blow radiated outward in a seismic wave.
The dust settled to reveal Adams, standing atop a floating shard of stone, completely unscathed, his expression one of mild disappointment. "Is that truly your best, Ashura King?" he asked, his voice echoing through the hall. "All this power, and yet..." He trailed off, shaking his head as though chiding a child for a clumsy attempt at mimicry.
The Ashura King snarled, his voice a guttural growl. "I'm not done yet!" With a furious bellow, he unleashed another technique, his aura expanding wildly as his body flickered with crimson light. "Witness the ultimate destruction—Abyssal Flame Tsunami!" He raised all six arms, summoning forth a tide of scorching flames that engulfed the entire hall, a roaring sea of crimson fire that swallowed everything in its path.
"Do you understand now?" Adams asked, his voice soft but carrying a weight that seemed to press down on the entire hall. "There is no power you could summon that could even touch me. I am beyond your comprehension, beyond your reach."
The Ashura King's gaze faltered, the fight draining from his eyes as he lowered his head. His six arms, once so filled with power and fury, now hung limp at his sides. The hall fell silent as the Ashura soldiers looked on, their faces reflecting the crushing realization that their king—their mightiest warrior—had been utterly, effortlessly defeated.
The air grew still as a faint tremor rippled through the hall, and Adams took a step forward, his expression unreadable yet brimming with a quiet intensity. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and a small smile played on his lips—a smile devoid of mirth, an expression that suggested the Ashura King had walked into something far beyond his understanding. With a barely perceptible tilt of his head, he exhaled, and his gaze sharpened, honing in on the King's every subtle movement as though dissecting him piece by piece.
He didn't raise his voice. Instead, a murmur slipped past his lips, soft but carrying a weight that reached every corner of the hall. "Domain Expansion."
The words were almost a whisper, yet the impact was undeniable. The air itself seemed to pull back, shuddering as if recoiling from some unseen force. Adams' presence grew; his figure became more solid, more absolute, as though he were rooted not just in the hall but in every reality, every shadow of existence surrounding them. A flicker of something ancient and boundless surged in his eyes—a glint that spoke of worlds conquered, of realms bowed beneath the weight of a power that defied reason.
The Ashura King froze for a split second, his gaze locked onto Adams, a flicker of disbelief barely concealed within the blazing fury of his crimson eyes. His jaw clenched as he fought back an instinctive tremor, fingers gripping his weapons so tightly that his knuckles turned white. There was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, a small hint of tension that hadn't been there before. Even his aura, thick and oppressive with the rage of countless battles, seemed to shrink back, the fiery red tinged with a momentary hesitation.
The general, standing nearby, felt it too. His normally fierce gaze faltered, widening in shock as the weight of Adams' words sank in. A bead of sweat traced down his brow, his grip tightening around the glaive as he shifted, instinctively bracing himself as though facing the edge of an invisible blade.
Adams let his hands fall to his sides, each movement languid yet deliberate, as if even the smallest gesture held an echo of his boundless strength. The smile remained—a calm, assured curve of his lips that seemed to promise annihilation with a gentleness almost more terrifying than rage. He exuded an air of absolute certainty, a silent proclamation that this was no battle. It was an inevitable ending, unfolding like the last act of a well-worn play.
For a moment, a hush fell over the grand hall. Adams' expression softened, his eyes reflecting a flicker of pity as he watched the Ashura King's fierce but futile defiance.