Beyond the Apocalypse-Chapter 1066: Null Horizon

The Entropy Fire surrounding the White Death burned brighter and brighter as he stared down into the crater where the Devil Paragon lay embedded.

White flames twisted violently around his gaunt frame, devouring matter and warping the air itself.

With a thunderous roar, he charged downward.

The sheer force of his descent caused the fabric of space to melt and ripple around him, as if reality itself were being dragged along by his momentum. The White Death poured everything he had into that single strike, intent on ending the battle once and for all.

Yet just before his blow could land, Beelzebub’s aura erupted.

The Devil Paragon clasped his hands together, veins of sky-blue light surging across his shattered body as he bellowed with every ounce of power left within him.

"Time Lock!"

A colossal, spectral clock manifested above the crater, its translucent form radiating ancient authority. The moment it appeared, an invisible domain expanded outward, engulfing everything within its range. Time itself froze.

The air became motionless. Even the violent distortions in space stilled completely. The power of the ability was overwhelming—so absolute that even the flames of Entropy were rendered immobile.

Yet the technique was not flawless.

Beelzebub himself was frozen within the domain as well.

Time Lock was a supreme technique, one that consumed a terrifying amount of energy and placed immense strain upon the soul. If its only effect was to delay the inevitable, then it would be nothing more than a desperate waste.

But that was not Beelzebub’s intention.

Slowly, the hands of the spectral clock began to move backward.

Everything within the domain remained unchanged... except for the White Death.

His body began to move in reverse.

Step by step, his form retraced its movements through time, his descent undoing itself as if reality were being rewound. His limbs moved backward unnaturally, his flames retracting into themselves as the moment of his charge was erased. It was a truly surreal sight, as though he had become a figure trapped within a reversed recording.

When the White Death was forced back into the sky, the spectral clock shattered into fragments of light. The domain dissolved, and time resumed its normal flow.

Instantly, the backlash struck.

The White Death’s internal organs twisted violently as temporal stress ravaged his body. Moving through time without being tempered by its laws carried a horrific cost. Blood poured from his mouth as his insides screamed in agony, but he had no time to acknowledge the pain.

Beelzebub appeared before him in an instant.

The Devil Paragon’s fist smashed into the White Death’s head with ferocious force, tearing away flesh on the left side of his face and sending him hurtling through the air like a broken comet. The sound of the impact echoed across the First Layer of Hell.

Beelzebub’s eyes burned with unrestrained hatred.

His body was grievously wounded, his soul strained to its limit by the use of Time Lock, yet none of that mattered. This battle had shown him the truth.

The human before him was a monster.

"And he is still young," Beelzebub thought grimly. "If I do not kill him now, he will become something far worse."

Without hesitation, Beelzebub surged forward again, using his temporal Gift to appear directly behind the White Death. His fist shot toward the back of the human’s head with lethal intent.

At the final instant, the White Death twisted his body, narrowly evading the strike. His hand flashed forward, aiming to seize Beelzebub’s wrist once more.

But an icy chill radiated from the Devil Paragon’s soul.

"Devil Time."

Beelzebub’s body took on a sky-blue hue as time bent around him. He slipped free of the grip and unleashed a storm of strikes, his speed exploding to a terrifying level. To the White Death, it felt as though ten Devil Paragons were attacking him at once.

Each blow tore into him with merciless precision.

Muscles shredded. Bones cracked. Temporal energy flooded every strike, suppressing regeneration and halting healing entirely. His vitality drained rapidly, his body screaming as it approached its limits.

And yet, even with death looming, the White Death did not lose focus.

His eyes sharpened with cold resolve as he forced his battered body to move, pushing himself beyond what should have been possible. He spoke two words, his voice calm and absolute.

"Null Horizon."

A smooth, silent, milky-white sphere erupted outward from his body.

It expanded without sound, without resistance, consuming everything in its path. Beelzebub was mid-attack when his fist collided with the sphere. Horror flooded his eyes as he watched his arm dissolve into nothingness, its particles completely nullified.

Pushing his power to the absolute limit, Beelzebub flashed away.

But the sphere was terrifyingly fast.

Its movement generated violent ripples through space-time, distorting reality itself and hindering the Devil Paragon’s escape. Though he managed to remain outside the core of the sphere, his momentum carried him uncontrollably forward.

He slammed into the ground with catastrophic force.

The Devil Paragon gasped for breath, terror gripping his heart. His left arm was gone, erased completely. His right leg had been partially caught during his escape and faded from existence as well.

The damage was catastrophic.

Yet the White Death was no better off.

As Null Horizon faded, his figure reappeared in the sky, skeletal and drained. His skin clung tightly to his bones, as though all muscle and vitality had been consumed. He had exhausted nearly everything he had.

Beelzebub saw his condition and his eyes ignited with killing intent.

"One strike," he realized. "One strike is all it would take."

Even with his grievous wounds and dwindling energy, Beelzebub gathered his remaining strength for a final blow.

But then the White Death raised his hand.

"Grave of In—"

The words were cut short.

Beelzebub transformed into a beam of sky-blue energy and fled, tearing through the hole he had opened and plunging into the Second Layer of Hell. His retreat did not slow; he continued upward, escaping toward the Ninth Layer with desperate speed.

A faint smile appeared on the White Death’s bloodied face as he watched him go.

"Hahaha... coward."

Yet beneath the laughter lay truth.

He had been in grave danger.

Null Horizon had drained him completely. Grave of Infinity was not truly possible in his current state—but Beelzebub had not dared to test it.

As the battle ended, exhaustion finally crashed down upon the White Death, threatening to pull him into unconsciousness as he drifted in the shattered sky.

Luckily, before the White Death could fall from the sky, Vlad appeared at his side in a flash of distorted space.

The True Depravita of Wrath did not waste a single moment. He placed his hand firmly over the White Death’s chest and immediately began channeling life force and vitality through the Law of Life, weaving restoration directly into flesh, blood, and soul.

A faint expression of comfort appeared on the White Death’s pale face as the healing energy flowed through him. It was precisely what he needed. The chaotic pain tearing through his body began to recede, replaced by a steady warmth that stabilized his condition.

The two descended silently and landed upon the shattered ground below.

Vlad continued the healing process without interruption, but his gaze could not help drifting across the battlefield. The scale of destruction left behind was truly cataclysmic.

Entire mountain ranges had been reduced to dust, the land warped beyond recognition. Wild, chaotic energy still lingered in the air, so dense and volatile that anyone below the Legendary Rank would have been reduced to nothing merely by approaching the area.

"The power of Entropy is truly something else," Vlad muttered quietly, genuine awe in his voice.

In his ultimate form, Vlad himself was a Paragon, possessing an immense and versatile range of power far broader than that of the White Death. Yet even so, he understood that raw versatility was not always superior. Sometimes, specialization—absolute, terrifying specialization—was far deadlier.

Despite his overwhelming life force and regenerative abilities, Vlad was not confident he could survive an ability like Null Horizon. The complete erasure of existence it represented was not something vitality alone could counter.

Of course, such power did not come without a cost.

There was a reason the White Death avoided using abilities like Null Horizon and Grave of Infinity unless absolutely necessary. These Gifts allowed Entropy to be manifested at an almost inconceivable level, but even the soul force of an early-stage Paragon was insufficient to wield them without suffering severe backlash.

Fortunately, the damage was not irreversible.

After five long hours, the White Death finally managed to stabilize his form. He was far from his peak, but his body remained intact and, more importantly, his soul was unharmed. With a few weeks of proper rest, he would be able to return to full combat strength.

That was something Beelzebub could not claim.

Vlad escorted the White Death back into the fortress and issued a command to the Infernal Monolith, ordering it to transfer Origin Power directly into the Graecia Emperor’s body. The ancient structure responded instantly, accelerating the healing process and reinforcing his recovery.

The two exchanged a solemn nod.

Then Vlad rose into the air, space folding around him as he teleported back to the advancing troops of the Graecia Empire. There was no time to linger.

The conquest had only just begun.