Count Gabel's smug satisfaction quickly gave way to surprise and uncertainty, his features contorting as he sensed a profound shift in the atmosphere.
Damian had tapped into a newfound wellspring of power, unleashing a surge of pure demonic energy that Count Gabel had never encountered before.
This energy was of a purity level beyond his reach, its intensity reminiscent of a fearsome black dragon. It radiated an apex level of power, giving Damian an aura that was both awe-inspiring and terrifying.
A hint of fear crept into Count Gabel's voice as he stammered, "What... What is this?"
Damian's expression was a mixture of seething anger and unrelenting hatred, his eyes ablaze with an otherworldly light. His voice dripped with venom as he responded, "Brace yourself, you despicable wretch!"
With those words, Damian unleashed the full might of the heavenly demon divine art. A torrent of demonic energy enveloped him, his form becoming a blur as he moved with unparalleled speed.
Each strike he delivered was precise and devastating, carrying the weight of his anger and the accumulated energy of his training.
Count Gabel struggled to keep up with Damian's onslaught. He parried blows with desperate precision, his once-confident demeanor now replaced by a frantic urgency. The clash of their energies created shockwaves that reverberated through the battlefield, the very earth trembling beneath their feet.
As the battle raged on, it became increasingly evident that Damian's newfound power had turned the tide.
Count Gabel's defenses wavered, and his movements grew sluggish under the relentless assault. Damian's eyes burned with an unquenchable fire, each strike echoing with fury.
However, Damian knew well that he couldn't sustain this martial art for much longer. While it managed to push Count Gabel back and keep him on the defensive, it was still far from enough to defeat him.
Now, it was a race against time. Damian clenched his teeth and continued his restless onslaught against Count Gabel, slowly but surely pushing him back.
"What kind of sword art is this... I've never seen my master use anything like it before," Count Gabel muttered in disbelief as he witnessed Damian's profound technique. It was one of the most remarkable techniques he had ever encountered.
Despite the pain coursing through his muscles, Damian pressed forward, his determination unwavering. The strain was immense, yet he persisted in his attack.
As the relentless assault continued, Damian's energy began to wane. His final strike was weaker, and Count Gabel seized the opportunity, parrying Damian's sword and knocking it from his hand.
"You're still just a kid, young master!" Count Gabel sneered, malicious delight in his expression. He readied his fist, preparing to strike Damian, who was now on the brink of exhaustion.
However, before Count Gabel's fist could reach Damian's face, his movement abruptly ceased, as if he had been paralyzed by an unseen force.
"What the..."
Count Gabel scanned his surroundings, his confusion growing as he realized that a network of mana chains from Iris's ultimate attack had ensnared him, immobilizing his every move.
"This is where it ends, Count Gabel!" Iris's voice rang out with authority as she completed her final casting. "Behold the Profound Barrier of Death!"
The magic circle in the sky pulsed with power, the atmosphere charged with an intense energy. The center of the circle glowed brighter and expanded.
"Damn it..." Count Gabel's voice trailed off as he found himself trapped, his options dwindling rapidly.
With the full power emanating from the mana circle, a brilliant purple beam surged downward, piercing through the sky and directly onto the battlefield. The impact was devastating, shaking the very ground beneath and sending a colossal shockwave rippling through the area.
Amidst the explosive force, a cloud of dust billowed out, shrouding the aftermath of the attack. As the haze gradually settled, the figure of Count Gabel emerged, standing his ground.
It was as though the might of the great war had drained Iris's power. Had she possessed her former strength, he would have been reduced to mere dust by the onslaught.
Though he remained upright, Count Gabel bore the scars of the assault. His face and body were seared by burn wounds, one of his eyes rendered sightless, and his hair completely singed. Yet, he persisted, his breath ragged and his stance precarious, teetering on the brink of collapse.
He turned his gaze to Iris, who painted and struggled to catch her breath after unleashing the formidable attack.
Before him stood his adversaries, still standing despite the devastation. Count Gabel realized that he was utterly defeated, his strength waning beyond recovery.
"This isn't the end," he rasped, his voice a faint whisper. "The chaos order will come back..."
With those parting words, Count Gabel sank to his knees, his eyelids growing heavy as he prepared to meet his demise.
"What a pitiful end," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness. And with that, Count Gabel's life ebbed away, his chapter coming to a close.
As fate would have it, the remaining chaos members in the vicinity began to experience the repercussions. Coughing up blood, they writhed in agony, clutching their chests as they cried out for help.
Unbeknownst to them, this suffering was the result of a sinister blood demonic art, a cruel insurance policy that ensured their silence and the elimination of potential witnesses in the event of their leader's demise.
"Is it finally over?" Damian's voice trembled as he gazed upon Count Gabel's lifeless form before him.
"Yes, Damian. We've done it. Good work, everyone," Iris replied, her voice tinged with exhaustion, confirming Damian's observation.
With Count Gabel's resounding defeat, a chorus of relief and triumph rang out among the surviving knights. Lives had been lost, sacrifices made, but the mission was accomplished without the loss of a single noble.
However, Damian's concerns were far from resolved. Pushing himself off the ground, he slowly made his way through the forest, his body frail and weary from employing the formidable Heavenly Demon's Divine Art. Despite the toll it had taken on his muscles, Damian was determined to press on.
Observing Damian's struggle, Seraphine quickly went to his side, offering her support as they moved forward. Even though Her eyes are still emotionless from the drug, she deeply cares for Damian, who carries the weight of worry for his father.
"Young master, your father is a resilient warrior. I believe he'll pull through," Seraphine reassured Damian, her words a comforting balm to his emotions.
"I hope so... but that attack was unbelievably powerful. I can't be certain if my father can endure it," Damian's voice quivered with concern.
Guided by their shared worry, they continued their slow progress through the forest until they reached a clearing. There, Marquis Adrain lay upon the ground, surrounded by a gathering of individuals, including Anna, who had contributed her skills as a healer to the mission.