Gershion pressed onward, his body moving on sheer determination. Each step he took toward the dark rift sent tremors of corruption through his soul. Along the path, demons emerged from the shadows—feral, twisted creatures dripping with malice. But Gershion fought his way through, cutting down each demon with brutal efficiency, though his movements grew more feral with each kill. The once radiant light in his sword dimmed, flickering with traces of dark energy.
ALERT: Title Change Initiated. Demonic Archangel 75%.
The system alert echoed in his mind, a grim reminder of his transformation. With every demon slain, his power grew, but so did the darkness inside him. The pull of the Genesis portal was intoxicating, and Gershion could feel the line between celestial and demonic power blurring within him. He didn’t know what the full change would bring, but there was no turning back. He journeyed forward, determined to close the rift before more demons spilled into the Light Realm.
Finally, Gershion reached the rift—a swirling vortex of pure darkness, pulsating with raw, destructive energy. It seemed alive, twisting and writhing as it fed on the chaos around it. But it wasn’t unguarded.
Standing before the rift was a towering figure, its presence so overwhelming that the air itself seemed to tremble. This was no ordinary demon. Its body was wreathed in dark flames, with massive, jagged wings unfurling behind it. Its eyes glowed like molten lava, and its face was twisted into a cruel, mocking grin.
Gershion knew who this was. One of the Princes of Hell, a ruler of the Dark Realm.
**Astaroth.**
The name echoed in his mind—a demon prince of immense power, one who had been feared throughout both the Dark and Light Realms. Gershion had read about him in the ancient texts, stories passed down through generations of celestials. Few had faced Astaroth and lived to tell the tale.
Astaroth looked down at Gershion, his lips curling into a sneer. “So, a little insect dares to crawl this deep into our domain. And here I thought the Light Realm had nothing but cowards. How amusing.”
Gershion stood his ground, gripping his sword tightly. “I’m not here to talk,” he spat. “I’m here to close that rift.”
Astaroth let out a booming laugh that reverberated through the entire chamber. “Close the rift? You, a mere whelp, think you can challenge me? I’ve guarded this rift since before your ancestors even knew of the Light Realm. But very well, if it’s death you seek, I will grant it.”
Without warning, Astaroth moved. His speed was unnatural, a blur of shadow and flame that crashed into Gershion like a storm. The sheer force of the impact sent him hurtling backward, crashing into the jagged rocks. Pain exploded through Gershion’s body, but he gritted his teeth and pushed himself up.
Astaroth was toying with him. Every strike from the demon prince was calculated, precise, yet with no intention of ending the fight quickly. The gap between them was staggering. Gershion swung his sword, but Astaroth dodged with ease, his mocking laughter filling the air as he delivered another crushing blow that sent Gershion sprawling.
ALERT: HP 50/200.
Gershion coughed, tasting blood in his mouth. He was being outclassed in every way. Astaroth was more powerful, faster, and completely in control. Yet Gershion refused to back down. He rose once more, his body battered and broken, but his will unshaken.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“I have to stop him,” he whispered through gritted teeth, his vision blurring from the pain. “For the Light Realm... for Miss Fiona.”
But as he prepared for another attack, something changed. From the corner of his eye, Gershion saw movement. The small dragon that had hatched in the heart of the Genesis portal appeared. But it was no longer the small, fragile creature Gershion had once known. It had grown into a fearsome two-headed dragon, with one head spewing red fire and the other blue.
The dragon let out a deafening roar, leaping into the fray. Its two heads worked in unison, unleashing torrents of flame at Astaroth. The flames, one icy blue and the other fiery red, collided with the demon prince, forcing him to back away momentarily.
Gershion was stunned. The dragon fought fiercely, its flames searing through the air as it clashed with Astaroth. Despite the dark power corrupting the atmosphere, the dragon fought valiantly, as though it were immune to the influence of the Dark Realm. It was a mysterious creature, one that even Gershion couldn’t fully comprehend.
With his new partner, Gershion fought alongside the dragon, their attacks coming in waves as they tried to overpower the demon prince. But Astaroth was far beyond anything they could handle. He batted them away as though they were nothing more than flies, his dark flames overwhelming their every move.
Despite their combined efforts, they were losing. Gershion could feel the energy draining from him, his body weakening with every passing moment. The dragon, too, was tiring, its two heads panting heavily as Astaroth delivered a vicious blow that sent it crashing into the ground.
Gershion barely had time to react before Astaroth’s sword pierced his chest.
He gasped, his vision darkening as searing pain shot through him. He looked down to see the blade buried deep in his heart, blood pouring from the wound. His legs buckled, and he collapsed to the ground.
ALERT: HP 1/200
.
He was going to die. His thoughts drifted to Miss Fiona, his foster mother, the only one who had ever truly cared for him. I’ve been too careless, he thought. I shouldn’t have ventured this deep alone. Regret washed over him as his vision blurred.
ALERT: Title Change Completed. Demonic Archangel Complete.
*****First Seal of the Shadow of the Almighty Broken.*****
The system’s alerts came just as Gershion’s consciousness began to fade. But something else stirred within him. A surge of power erupted from deep inside, and suddenly, the entire atmosphere shifted. The dark energy that had been leaking from the rift seemed to recoil as something far more sinister, far more potent, rose from within Gershion.
Astaroth froze. His confident sneer melted into one of pure terror. The demon prince, who had mocked and toyed with Gershion moments ago, began to sweat, his massive form trembling as he gazed at the celestial warrior before him.
The dark energy emanating from Gershion was unlike anything Astaroth had ever felt. It was deeper, thicker, and far more powerful than even the energy of the Genesis portal. The demon prince instinctively understood—this power was beyond him. Even his archdemon master couldn’t wield such overwhelming pressure.
Only one thought crossed Astaroth’s mind.
Escape.
The once-mighty prince of hell staggered backward, his eyes wide with fear. Even the two-headed dragon, which had been fighting alongside Gershion, backed away cautiously, sensing the sheer, terrifying magnitude of the power radiating from its master.
Gershion slowly rose to his feet, his hand gripping the hilt of the sword that had been buried in his chest. The wound healed almost instantly, and his eyes, now glowing with a mixture of celestial and demonic energy, locked onto Astaroth.
“You thought you could defeat me?” Gershion’s voice was calm, but it carried the weight of the immense power now coursing through him. “Now you will know what true fear is.”