“SEKH!!!!!” Irisa attempted to run towards the blazing heap she once called home, but her father picked her up like she was still a child and ran away to make some distance. He also had Erin other his other arm, and Primrose was carrying Niva. Ichiha followed close behind, but she kept looking back to the store, and the roar of the flames just raged even louder.    

“It’s all gone...” she whimpered, shedding a tear for the memories it held. Yes, some were bad, but ultimately, she spent the best years of her life in that shop.  

And that went for her daughters and husband.   

“That’s right. It’s all been scorched to nothingness, just like my host wanted.” The Essence of Wrath suddenly appeared via a pillar of flames, causing them to skid to a fearful halt.   

“That’s a lie!” Irisa said, stepping forward to face the frightening foe.    

“Oh, I don’t think it is. That chimera's exact wishes were as follows... ‘I could kill them? I could...burn it all? I could...destroy the world?’” said the Essence of Wrath in a voice belonging to a certain High Elf.  

“Just shut up, yeah? You’re just twisting everything around to suit you. It’s practically like your whole thing. You hide in waiting until your user needs you, then you say what they want to say so they can allow you into their soul,” Tilde pipped up, flying to face their fearsome opponent face to face. “I’ll admit the dirty trick you pulled managed to get one over by me, but—"  

The Essence of Wrath just smiled, though. Upon snapping its fingers, it trapped the naughty fairy in a cube of divine flames...that did just about nothing. “Uhh... This is harmless to me, dumbass. These flames are rather nice, though. Maybe I can use them to dry my ass after I shower? Look, go back inside before things turn dangerous, and maybe I can convince my Master to forgive you after she forgives me for keeping this hidden. Eh—what are you doing?!?! AAAHHHHHhhhhh—”   

Upon growing tired of the fairy's endless bullshitting, the Essence of Wrath shook the cube of flames and carelessly tossed it behind. “Which of you wants to die first? The pathetic whore? The debaucherous father? The child born of rape? All miserable existences that deserve to burn forever in my divine immolation.” It lifted a hand to the sky and used the spell [Flame Impact] to shoot up four large blasts of fire, which then slammed into the nearby buildings, creating an area of impenetrable flames that only it could escape from. “Everything the Dark Lord holds dear will perish from this world. I’ll taunt her reincarnations with your scorched corpses.”   

“I won’t let a monster like you lay a single hand on my summoner!” Primrose exclaimed. She stepped forward, creating a staff from her limbs as she held it high. A magic circle appeared above her enemy, and vines descended to restrain her, but the moment they appeared was when they died. “[Razor Wind]! [Razor Wind]! [Razor Wind]! [Razor Wind]! [Razor Wind]! [Razor Wind]!!!!!!” Primrose directed the sharp, invisible wind blades like a maestro to kill her opponent, but it was too weak. And after exhausting her mana, she drained Niva to the point where she couldn’t remain standing. And all the Essence of Wrath could do was laugh at their attempts.  

"I will never understand why the Dark Lord of Tyranny ever subjected herself to your undeserving attention. You, the oni. You think you can fare any better?”  

Kokan bit his lips and looked back at his wife and daughters. Irisa dauntlessly stood to protect her half-sister, whose ears had folded on her head and tail wrapped around her waist. Kokan couldn’t deny that he was scared. Frightened, even. What could he do against someone Sekh couldn’t scratch? And she was a Dark Lord.   

No, Sekh isn’t dead! 

“Mila, you must fight it!! Regain control! Put that awful thing away for good!! Sekh! I know you’re alive!!!!!” Kokan shouted, having no choice but to appeal to the possessed chimera. Even if he was above Lv. 60, the father couldn’t stand a candle against the fearsome foe threatening to kill him.   

But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t put his life on the line to save those he loved. He was ready to make the ultimate sacrifice as he stepped in front of everyone and took a hand-to-hand stance.   

If his death meant his loved ones would live even a second longer, he thought it was worth it.   

Everyone else started to call Mila’s and Sekh’s names, begging and pleading with them to wake up.   

“The chimera known as Mila is dead! She doesn't exist. The Dark Lord of Tyranny has fallen at my hands! I'M THE STRONGEST! NO ONE CAN MATCH MY POWER!!” The Essence of Wrath faced its palms to the sun and focused. It almost looked like the sun was glowing more than usual. What started as a small flaming sphere above its hands soon grew at an unfathomable pace as the Essence of Wrath used a spell called [Sunfire Apocalypse], which was a powerful attack with the same properties as the very sun that granted warmth and life. At its apex, the spell was a flaming ball of destruction three miles in size, hovering ten miles above its wielder. It gave off enough heat that anyone within fifteen miles felt their skin blister and burn, and all who looked upon the center mass from fifty miles felt their retinas burn.   

The Essence of Wrath did not intend to end the world. This spell was just a way for it to celebrate its victory. It would shoot up into the sky and burst apart like a firework, sending hell flames spewing to the farthest reaches of the western continent.  

The Essence of Wrath planned to take full advantage of [Hermes Trismegistus] to index the world while remaining hidden with [Status Cloak]-- one of the most powerful things the Essence of Wrath had ever encountered. With it, no one could detect who it really was, which meant there was no chance of any Holy or Dark Lords searching it out to reseal it within its skill. And with the power of a chimera, its growth had no limit.  

Every 100 years, the Essence of Wrath planned to scan the world for the Dark Lord of Tyranny’s reincarnation and stalk her like prey, destroying anything she held dear before the curse came to claim her life as its plaything. Then when the memories came back, they would torture her with proof of this failure by displaying the charred corpses of the only people the Dark Lord of Tyranny had ever loved.  

The Essence of Wrath wanted to devote the rest of its time to making the Dark Lord of Tyranny’s life a living hell, even if it meant continuing until the natural heat death of the universe.  

It was impossible to overestimate how much hatred the Essence of Wrath nurtured after its last loss. You could say it was a fanatical obsession bordering on something grotesque.  

Niva was blessed in that she couldn’t see the impending death. Primrose leaked sap from her eyes and turned away, choosing to spend her final moments embracing her summoner, even if it was for selfish reasons. Irisa, Erin, and their parents somberly looked at each other. Many regrets passed through their minds. The time they should have spent with the other was instead given to hate, and that couldn’t be taken back. 

But now? In their final moments?   

They would defend and embrace each other. Kokan stood in front, his back facing towards the apocalypse. His large, great body took the brunt of the heat. His wife stood near him, one arm around her husband’s side while reaching out for Irisa, who joined next. She rushed over with Erin, and the newly rejoined family shared tears, promising they would find each other and continue to be a family in the next life.   

The onis carried an innate resistance towards heat, but would that be enough to protect them from fatal harm if they emerged alive from this terrible situation?  

The Essence of Wrath simply stared while channeling the spell. However, the flaming sphere of mass destruction was unstable. It wobbled, unable to maintain its gross size without much strain. The spirit was caught off guard by the lack of proper balance that it couldn't keep it steady. Yes, the Essence of Wrath had far more mana than most others, yet it couldn’t access it. A terrible amount of stress was being placed on her host’s body. If the spirit used the host’s ability to create clones and devour the ones it had already killed, the mana drain wouldn't surpass the mana regeneration. 

“It doesn’t matter if I can’t celebrate this victory... I’ve already won... I’ll-- What...is that?” whispered the spirit. It stared at the house masquerading as Sekh’s grave and wondered why there was such a collection of Dark Mana. Why was it gathering in a single point? And why was it increasing in strength?   

The Essence of Wrath knew its opponent was dead. After all, it left her surrounded by flames of divine origin after piercing her heart.  

And then the mana exploded, shooting straight up in a cylinder as a single person ascended.   

She was a Lionfolk with light gray skin, black fur, a tail the color of straight darkness, and the brightest silver eyes anyone had ever seen. Slowly, they opened, but what carried on her face wasn’t regret or anger.   

No, it was the purest form of tyrannical tidings, here to spread it to her enemies. 

---

From the pillar of Dark Mana, I stared at the sorry sight. That wretched spirit thought her flames to be so superior that she used something she thought was strong to kill those cowering before her.   

No.  

I wouldn’t allow it. Even if my MP was currently zero, it fed off the fear of those before me. That was just a perk of my [Dark Lord of Tyranny] title called [Power From Fear (Lv. 1)]. Just the sight of my reformed, healed body scared her enough to jump me to 13%.  

It’s about time I started regaining my power. I will bear whatever the cost. 

That was all I needed.   

“This is getting interesting!” shouted my opponent. She used that obese, city-wide flaming sphere as a resource to shoot smaller destructive orbs at me.   

They were slow. That pissant probably couldn’t sustain the gross amount of mana required to keep something of that caliber stable.   

Black flames wrapped around my arms, and I swatted them, sending them scattering to the city's far reaches. The ground trembled each time one made contact, leaving behind a crater dozens of feet wide. This was a game to my enemy. Laughter flowed as the rate of attacks increased until the irritation proved palpable. Scorn flashed across her face, and she used both hands to direct the destructive spell towards me. It had shrunk considerably by about 70% from the wayward, listless, pathetic attempts to take my life and the inability to maintain the exhaustive spell.  

“[Black Fire: Flame Rejection!]” I raised my hand and targeted the city-wide sphere. It was my mana versus my opponent’s. We battled for control over the attack, pushing and shoving on both sides.   

Her horns grew more defined, curling in a spiral, but I fought back. I gave my everything because I wanted to drown that pathetic waste in its flames…  

But that didn’t happen. Our opposing forces send the massive attack spiraling in a random direction at a ridiculous speed.  

No…  

I knew what resided that way.  

“No! That’s where— LORD AETOS!!!!!” Primrose jumped to her feet and shouted the name of my old foe. Even from three days away, the destructive attack was as visible as black ink against white cotton. “LORD AETOS!!!!!!!!” she continued to cry. I thought this to be the end of that quaint village…  

But no.   

Moments before the attack slammed into the bounded field, the protective barrier shattered like glass. Fragments of condensed mana littered the ground, revealing what it kept secret. The Eagle Yew suddenly appeared, piercing the sky like a stake in the planet’s core. It shimmered white, the entire tree glowing while seemingly cutting a massive hole in the fabric of space. From the gaping portal emerged Aetos in his spiritual form. His wings flapped hard enough for the breeze to be felt across this great distance.   

The eagle was four times larger than the last time I saw him.   

Screeching, Aetos flapped his wings and channeled magic circles, charging mana, which he directed into a gargantuan beam of emerald-colored spirit energy. It slammed into the forthcoming destruction, but the divine flames spiraled around the attack and started to scorch the great eagle.   

“LORD AETOS!!!!!” Primrose was hysterical. Seeing the cornerstone of her world lit ablaze affected her. Her current obligation was to protect her Master, yet that didn’t mean she forgone any internal feelings for the one that granted her life. If Aetos wasn’t here, Primrose would be nothing.    

Yet the eagle’s cries never reached us. His desire to protect his new home eclipsed the pain he felt from flames he’d never encountered. But the eagle surged the full potential of his body, glowing even brighter as the light faded, sending out another powerful, forceful beam. It was enough to send the Essence of Wrath’s attack back to her at triple the speed it traveled, and I hijacked control over it to fill it with [Black Fire].   

“You goddamn eagle! You’ll be the next to die!”  

“[Black Fire: Flame Launch!]” I shouted, stomping the ground and sending pitch-black flames through the ground. It snaked towards the spot under my foe, then broke through the soil. My opponent didn’t have time to yelp in surprise as she was flung towards the incoming strike.    

“Now die.” I formed a fist, collapsing the gigantic fireball, filled with Aetos’s naturalistic magic and my flames, onto itself. It folded like a pancake—once, twice, thrice. The more I squeezed, the more the sphere of deadly fire crushed that foolish bitch who thought she could get the better of me. A final fist self-destructed the spell, sending plumes of fiery meteors towards the ground.    

At the same time, I raced towards those I’d come to care for. I made it just in time to put up another wall of nocturnal flames to protect us from [Sunfire Apocalypse]’s falling explosions. The remaining buildings crumbled from the force, the earth shaking as if the planet was convulsing.  

But I wasn’t afraid. Irisa called my name, but I just gave her a look before rushing through the barrier with [Black Fire: Explosive Lance] on the tip of my tongue. Casting it caused a dozen black lances to appear, encircling the dazed opponent.  

In the corner of my sight, I saw an injured Aetos circle his tree. He flew unsteady, having just one wing to support his body, but he latched onto an unbelievably thick branch and roosted.   

He looked this way.   

Dozens of miles separated us, but he stared directly at me.   

Those eyes… I’d crossed them many times in our dozens of clashes… And they remained sturdy and headfast. Any glimpse of fear or pain? 

No, there was none. He was but a mere specter in my fight.   

The black, flaming lances slammed the Essence of Wrath from above, throwing her into the ground. She bounced about a dozen feet into the air. I wrapped my feet in protective fire and used [Black Fire: Flame Pillar] to soar into the sky.    

“What?!?!” Her face was full of fright. I grabbed the bitch by the throat and punched her in the stomach, not caring that my knuckles were burnt black with each strike. We dueled in the air, falling to the hard ground, slightly molten by the flame magic we used. But that didn’t stop us from resuming the fight when we got to our feet. She used her divine sword of flames while I used a mace of dark fire.   

There wasn’t even a need for a shield.   

It was a ferocious clash of two separate ideals, one of revenge and one of protection. The fear I’d been siphoning from my opponent slowed to a crawl, but I continued to use more extravagant skills like [Black Fire: Serpent Bite] to morph the flames covering my body into the head of a snake, which slithered down my leg and attached to the spirit’s feet.   

That effortlessly allowed me to chain into another [Power Strike], which I used twice with two maces, assembled of solidified [Black Fire] in both hands to crack her horns.  

[Relentless Combo] kicked in, guiding my body into a dance of devastation that ended with me breaking the obsidian covering her chest. She was thrown back to the hard ground, ‘blood’ in the form of fire leaking out at an alarming rate.   

“This is still nothing!” roared the spirit. Her wings flapped hard, sending down a plume of flame as she ascended. Patently, I waited. The fire dancing across my fingertips yearned to be given commands in the form of a spell.  

But then my opponent descended, the flames flowing from her wings vanishing as she landed. With her eyes focused, she took a deep breath as everything related to her element disappeared, leaving my liege as naked as the day I created her body.   

“The air... Why is it getting colder?” I demanded, looking around while staring at my breath as the raging flames faded. The entity possessing my liege held out her arms as her head was adorned with ethereal blue horns. On her arms and legs sat pristine azure scales. She had a dragon-like tail of ice swooshing behind her. In her previous form, her body had been covered in pure flames with dark obsidian acting as the armor. But in this case...   

A hooded cloak of dark blue mist hung off her back, snowflakes dripping down like water from a wet cloth. She was protected by ice blue plate armor that was revealing in the stomach and thighs, yet what wasn’t guarded was clothed by a skintight covering of transparent pale ice. Her hair was as blue as the deepest sapphire, looking like frigid ice flowing in place.    

The form of fire reminded me of the pure destructive instinct of a dragon, but this? It was more elegant than fearsome, more noble than full of brawn.  

“This form... It’s one I designed to specifically counter your flames. The opposite of a fiery wrath is a cold, frigid fury—you could say they’re close enough to be siblings-- two sides of the same coin... And it’s my right to rule over both. Aetos? That eagle shall know death a second time once I’m finished with you,” spoke my opponent. Her voice wasn’t distorted or demonic, but neither did it sound like my liege. It was unassumingly flat and distant. Ice gathered around her hands, morphing into two icy pistols with rapiers attached to the barrel to act as bayonets.   

A simple swing of them across the ground sent a dozen pillars of ice scattering towards me. Something didn’t feel right, so I jumped out of the way and recovered into a roll. Upon getting to my feet, I used [Black Fire: Homing Bolt] to shoot a dozen fire arrows into the sky that locked onto my opponent. I didn’t have time to look because [Danger Sense] alarmed my mind. These instincts honed over a hundred lifetimes served me well in my continued survival.   

“These flames? How I used to long for them,” she said, shooting them out of the sky with expert accuracy. They froze to solid ice and slammed into the arctic battlefield. I turned to face her, her expression unassumingly rigid and non-moving. Summoning a mace made of nocturnal flames, I raced forward to engage her in combat. She waited with her guns aimed towards me. Two gunshots later, the ground rumbled below me, and the air shuffled above me. A dozen mystical ice arrows flew like demons from all around me.  

It was nothing a couple of flame pillars couldn't handle.  

When the ground rumbled from my skills, I dove ahead with my flaming mace, ready to strike her across the chest. I made impact, but she jumped back to avoid the damage. Recovering to my feet, I used [Black Fire: Serpent Bite] a second time to slow her down, then finally managed to cross weapons with her. She ducked low as I went high, piercing my shoulder with a hasty thrust, but the fire surrounding my body traveled to her armament. She shook it off when I swept her leg. She rolled and shot the ground to create a pillar that accelerated her kick towards my shin.   

It was a battle with no restraints, with both of us trying to gain the upper hand. We each sent the other through the scant remaining buildings, scatting across the ground, leaving a trail of ice and fire in our wake. My foe took to the skies and shot icicles that melted before even reaching me. The dripping water then froze, but a quick burst of shadowy flames freed me.   

She’s sharper… Her actions have far fewer wasted movements… How annoying… How utterly annoying... 

This continued for a few minutes until she suddenly switched to fire mode and clapped, using [Scorching Soundwave] to throw me back. The ice below us evaporated, causing a watery mist to block my view. Something felt fishy, so I rushed forward to find my opponent looking at Irisa and the others. They couldn’t move because a ring of divine flames trapped them.  

Even worse, my enemy channeled a wave of flames in her clenched palms…  

“Don’t!!!” I shouted, feeling lethargic since my MP wasn’t refilling. The fight had gone on for too long. After transforming into ice mode, the Essence of Wrath was no longer afraid.  

But I wasn’t about to give up. The pit of my tyrannical madness knew no bounds.   

However, it was a trap. Upon jumping in front of the wave of flames and knocking it away, the Essence of Wrath switched forms and used [Frozen Prison] to encase me in a reinforced block of ice after freezing her flames.  

There was just enough room for my body, but I was surrounded by four feet of reinforced ice on all sides.  

“This isn’t what I wanted,” said the spirit. “Truly, I felt an ounce of your strength when you emerged from the building’s ruins. You were attacking non-stop... Like I was still in the past. But no, your flames are too weak to break free from this rather average attack. You have more left to give, Dark Lord. To prove I’m stronger, I wanted to kill you at the peak of your power to prove my superiority, but I will not wait for that day to come...”   

My opponent narrowed her eyes, then looked at the others trapped within the flame ring. It shrunk a fraction of an inch with every second. “The real you wouldn’t have such sorry things as emotional attachments. My host wants the world to burn, but freezing to death is so similar that she wouldn’t mind it. But I have no plans to do either of those. My only wish is to see you suffer until this world reaches a natural conclusion. Even if it means killing you a thousand more times, I will have nothing more enjoyable to do. But while we wait for those trapped in the ring to die, I will use your power against you.”  

The Essence of Wrath slowly raised a hand towards me and smiled a crooked grin, light blue snowflakes dropping from her azure horns. “I—Transcendent Dark Lord—command the Dark Lord of Tyranny to endure the true extent of anguish from that which binds her. Feel the combined terror you’ve inflicted on your countless victims over your pathetic existence!” 

---

The Essence of Wrath crossed her arms and began to watch the chaos that was the true despair of [Tyranny Control]. It was specially constructed to cause the most unbearable pain via means that could not be guarded or protected. To those who suffered from it, the vivid agony was much like a nightmare being given a physical form. Any wayward memories of the punishment would be met with heretical screaming and cries of insanity.   

Unique to it, the punishment command was not usually capable of killing unless the order specified death. When one enslaved by it came close to perishing from the wounds inflicted by the terrible skill, the slave would be temporarily healed, but this healing was a false promise of broken dreams that wished for a better world. It was a façade of tyranny—partly why it was named that—because the pain would be doubled when this new flesh fell to the same fate.   

 The body would take on this pseudo-healing again. This time, the pain, agony, and gruesomeness would triple. And the longer this cycle continued, the more the damage multiplier would grow.   

But…  

Nothing of the sort happened. The Essence of Wrath had been watching for thirty seconds—more than enough time for the strongest to have dropped to their feet and beg for death. But their target was merely standing in the icy prison with a clear and blank expression on their face.   

“What the hell? I know it’s working! I command you to suffer more! Feel the combined anguish of all those you have ever used this treacherous technique on! I command you in the name of the Transcendent Dark Lord!!!” The Essence of Wrath thrust out its hand again.   

Nothing discernible happened.   

It did the same thing multiple times, expecting the situation to become different. 

Well, it defiled all the Essence of Wrath had ever seen.   

It was mind-boggling since it felt that the commands were being sent. It even said as much in its activity log.    

“STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!!! WHY AREN’T YOU BEGGING FOR DEATH?!?!”  

Truth be told, the command given by the Essence of Wrath was working. Every passing second, Sekh felt the fury of a thousand stars exploding in her heart, feeling the weight of a trillion daggers flay her alive.   

However, she activated [Tyrannical Renewal] dozens of times per second, granting her a false form of immortality at the fatal cost of ensuring her death once this fight was over. The skill healed the user to full health at the cost of taking four times the amount of harm healed in the form of recoil damage. And each additional use of the technique in the same time frame meant the recoil multiplier would increase additionally. 

That was why there was no visual reference to what was happening.    

Sekh knew what the stakes were. If it was for her liege, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to ascertain her safety and prosperity…  

Even if it meant her death. Because, win or lose, the damage being staved off would come back with a vengeance she hadn’t ever felt before in any of her lives.   

[Power From Fear] worked overtime, feasting off the consternation that the Essence of Wrath couldn’t hide. The amount of mana Sekh gained was almost gross to everything she had spent since the start of this fight.   

But it wasn’t over…  

Oh, it was nowhere close to being over.    

The moment her icy prison started to weaken from the ineptitude of its conjurer to sustain it, the Dark Lord of Tyranny did something she had never even thought of doing. Her prior lives wouldn’t have been able to conceive the thought of ever being put into this type of situation.    

I was a fool to only allow in a modicum of the curse... If it’s to protect my liege...

“Fine! If you don’t want to let me see you suffer, I’ll do this! I decree the previous orders be dispelled. And in its place, I demand you remove your head—"  

“As the Dark Lord of Tyranny, I command myself to…to burn this life with the curse that binds me to eternal damnation…and grant me the power I rightly deserve…to win this battle at any cost…” she said in a simple enough voice, using her own Divine Armament to enslave herself to destiny. The coldness of reality sliced the Essence of Wrath’s determination into a thousand pieces. It couldn't finish its sentence that would all but assuredly end this battle in its favor.  

But for the Dark Lord of Tyranny…fate had just one destiny in mind…  

After all, if she knew she would perish by the time this fight ended, and if her fate was to be reborn with the full might of the curse intact…  

Did it not make enough sense to use the full power of the curse at the very moment when the Dark Lord of Tyranny knew she wouldn’t be alive long enough to cause any fatal harm to those that she had come to love, cherish, and protect?