The Heavenly Demon of Terror-Chapter 300: Arena of Black Glass

Samuel's POV

The moment her blades lit up again, I knew it wasn't over.

Vaelira Duskheart didn't flinch—she lunged.

"Let's stop talking," she growled, "and start bleeding."

My gauntlets met her twin sabers mid-air. The clash sent a sonic boom across the obsidian arena, cracking the ground beneath our feet.

"Finally," I smirked, fangs showing. "I was getting bored."

She twisted her body mid-air, bringing one saber down in an arc toward my neck. I raised my forearm, Oblivion Chain snapping into place to absorb the blow—but her second blade curved behind the first like a serpent.

Blood sprayed. My shoulder burned.

I countered immediately with a Crimson Cataclysm—a swirling vortex of blood-red force erupting from my core. It slammed into her, flinging her across the arena like a ragdoll.

But she rolled, landed, and grinned like a war goddess high on rage.

"Good," she spat. "Hurt me more."

"Gladly."

I blinked behind her using Voidstep, drove my elbow into her spine—and followed with an uppercut from my left gauntlet that shattered part of her breastplate.

Her body folded in pain, but her wing lashed out, slashing across my chest. Deep. Too deep.

I staggered back, clutching my torso. "Fucking hell..."

Vaelira panted, wiping blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. "Still think this is a joke, Samuel?"

"No," I growled, crimson dripping from my lips, "I think it's foreplay."

I activated Dread Sovereign—a black aura of terror surged outward, warping the air, making even the shadows scream. The torches dimmed. The sky cracked.

But she didn't freeze. She charged through it.

That was the difference.

Vaelira didn't fear death. She invited it to dance.

She went low, spinning, blades slicing through my thighs. My knees almost buckled—but I caught her with Demon's Grasp, teleporting directly behind her and slamming her into the ground with both fists.

The arena cratered. Stone shattered.

She coughed blood. Still grinned.

"You fight like a monster."

"I am one," I muttered. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

"Then die like one!"

She erupted in violet light—activating her own burst technique. I saw it too late.

Her blade plunged through my abdomen. Straight through.

I coughed, eyes wide, blood spewing.

But I didn't fall.

Instead, I grinned back.

"Last Rites."

My palm lit up in hellfire.

I grabbed her face.

The blast consumed her in point-blank range, tearing the flesh from her cheek, her armor melting in chunks.

She flew back, half her mask gone, right wing torn.

We both collapsed, gasping.

But I got up first.

Broken. Bleeding. But standing.

She groaned. One knee down.

"...Finish it," she hissed, staring up at me.

"No," I said, wiping the blood from my mouth. "You're too good a fighter to waste. I need warriors near me, not corpses."

She blinked.

Then laughed—a weak, hoarse, and slightly wild sound.

"You're insane."

"Always have been."

I walked past her, still bleeding, but triumphant.

"Tell the Queen I'm coming," I said without turning back.

________________________________________

Samuel's POV

As I strode away from the shattered arena, my breaths ragged but steady, the weight of the fight still throbbed through my veins.

Every bruise, every cut was a reminder—I had survived. I had won. But the world of Oblivion didn't care about my personal victories. It had bigger plans.

Then, without warning, my vision flickered.

Ding.

A system notification slid across my field of sight like a blade of light.

-----

Quest Completed: Defeat Queen's Right Wing — Vaelira Duskheart

Experience Gained: +3,500,000 XP

Level Up!

Level: 210 → 225

-----

A surge of power flooded through me. My wounds stitched themselves in mere moments, the familiar hum of raw energy swelling in my core. I felt stronger—dangerous.

I glanced at my status window again, watching the numbers climb. My strength, endurance, agility, intelligence—they all had jumped noticeably. Perfect. Exactly what I needed.

But then, the second notification appeared.

New Quest Available: Escort Roselle, Queen of Darkness, to meet the Queen of Oblivion.

I frowned. Roselle.

The name was like a shadow flickering through my mind, memories folding in on themselves.

Why would she want to meet the Queen of this world?

And why ask me to escort her?

Roselle wasn't just some noble or ruler. She was a force—an enigma wrapped in darkness and power.

The strongest woman I'd ever faced on any battlefield. The one woman who had matched me blow for blow, challenge for challenge, in three different lives.

In our first life, she was the ace of academics while I struggled as a backbencher.

In our second life, we were sworn enemies and lovers, caught in a dance of hatred and passion within the Murim world.

And now, in this third life, the same twisted fate tied us together—both allies and rivals in a world I barely understood.

I smirked, the corner of my mouth twitching with that familiar edge of cocky amusement.

She always wants something from me.

But this time? I wasn't sure if it was a trap—or a genuine alliance.

I ran my fingers over my gauntlets, feeling the residual heat of battle still glowing faintly.

I thought about my next move.

Leveling up was essential. No matter how strong I was now, the Queen of Oblivion wasn't going to be an easy opponent.

And walking into a meeting with her without knowing her strength or motives? That was a risk I wasn't willing to take.

Still, Roselle's request had weight. If she wanted me there, she must see some value—some purpose that I hadn't yet grasped.

I looked up toward the endless black sky, dotted with pale stars burning cold.

Time to find out what's really going on.

With renewed resolve, I started moving again—toward the unknown, toward more power, and toward a meeting that might change everything.