The Devil of Light moved without a sound.
His fist swung low, caught the wind, and detonated against the edge of Chalice's block with the force of a falling god. Chalice's arm twisted slightly—he shifted weight, pivoted his back foot, and let the force slip past.
Another blow came. Elbow. Rib height. Precise.
Chalice ducked and countered with a single palm to the side of the neck. A flash of light. The Devil vanished.
Then he reappeared behind him—leg already arcing for a sweep.
Chalice stopped it with one heel, blade still sheathed across his back.
They weren't speaking anymore. Not really.
Every exchange was memory. Old battle instincts. Movements carved from scars long buried.
The Devil pressed in. Blinding light pulsed from his body—every step, every jab, shimmered with speed beyond normal perception. He wasn't just fast—he was light.
But Chalice was balance.
The Devil's fist launched straight for his sternum—full force, no restraint.
Chalice deflected it mid-motion, his hand grazing the wrist just enough to tip the vector off course. The blow struck past him, cracking the entire left half of the tower.
Chunks of stone rained into the abyss.
The Devil narrowed his eyes. "Still hiding behind that perfect form," he murmured. "Still afraid of what you'd be if you let go."
Chalice didn't answer. He stepped in.
Steel rang.
His blade finally came loose—not as a show, but a necessity.
He slashed twice—minimal, clean. One to the side of the neck, the other toward the Devil's shoulder. The Devil slipped under both with a twisted grin and drove his knee into Chalice's chest.
Chalice staggered—but barely.
The Devil followed up, fists swinging in arcs, like planetary motion. Gleaming. Weightless. Absolute.
Chalice stepped through the flurry—ducking one, parrying another, dragging his sword against the Devil's thigh mid-rotation.
A cut formed.
The Devil's smile faded.
"You're enjoying this too much," he said.
Chalice shrugged. "I'm not the one fighting with my teeth clenched."
They clashed again.
No wasted moves. Each blow landed or barely missed by design. Fist and blade. Technique and force. The sky above the tower flickered unnaturally.
Then—
The Devil of Light stopped moving.
He raised his hand slowly, palm open to the fractured heavens.
A spiral of radiance swirled above. Light condensed. Hardened. Warped.
From the collapsing sun came something massive.
A blade of light, wide as the tower and ten times its height, slowly descended. Its shape wasn't clean—it was jagged, malformed, writhing with golden runes. The heat alone made the air distort.
He whispered, smiling coldly:
"Fragment of Hell."
The sword dropped.
It split through the clouds and came down like judgment—aimed not just at Chalice, but the entire Dark Tower. The blade tore through every level on the way, vaporizing stone, light screaming against the sky.
The Devil looked down as it fell. "I never liked this silly tower anyway."
Chalice looked up.
No fear. No power-up. No tricks.
He sheathed his blade again.
A breath.
And then—he held up one hand, palm flat.
The moment Fragment of Hell collided with Chalice's block, the world bent. Light cracked. A sonic boom shattered every window from Sanctuary to the Western Wall.
And far below—
Niko, mid-sprint through the lower streets, stumbled as the ground split beneath him. A shockwave hit his chest like a war drum.
He paused.
Looked up.
Eyes wide.
The tower was glowing like a second sun. Stone melted in streaks. And something at the top—something beyond description—was holding that down.
Niko wiped blood from his lips, heart hammering.
"…What is up there?"
Dust flared around Juno and Dem Oche as the shockwave hit the lower tower. Debris rained down in molten shards. The top of the tower now glowed faintly with burning veins from the sword's descent.
Dem Oche didn't even glance up.
Juno, however, grinned.
"The hell was that?" he cackled, teeth flashing. "I thought I was fighting a prince, not ducking goddamn heaven!"
He lunged forward in the chaos.
Dem Oche met him with a cold flick of the wrist—his rapier arcing upward in a silver blur. Juno ducked under, spinning low with a madman's grace, the edge of his katana dragging across Dem Oche's leg—sparking blood.
Dem Oche exhaled sharply and retaliated immediately, a clean thrust aimed at Juno's throat.
Juno tilted his head just in time, the blade slicing past his jaw, cutting a thin line into his cheek. He didn't falter. He laughed.
"Oh man, you're fast! I knew you had some bark left in you, even after that whooping."
Dem Oche's gaze narrowed.
"You think this is a game?"
"No," Juno replied, flicking blood off his katana again, then licking some from his lips. "It's a gift."
He vanished.
Reappeared behind Dem Oche—katana a flash of sharpened shadow.
Another strike landed. This time, shallow across Dem Oche's side.
Dem Oche turned sharply and backhanded Juno with the force of a hammer, sending him flying through a crumbling pillar.
The sound of crushed stone and coughing laughter echoed out a moment later.
Juno dragged himself from the rubble, lips split into a bloody grin, one eye swollen.
"…That all you got?"
Dem Oche stepped forward, calm but clearly irked now. A crack of golden energy rolled around his hand as the rapier charged.
"You're erratic. No discipline. No conviction."
Juno raised his sword, wobbling a bit from the hit, but his smile never faded.
"I just love the feeling of almost dying. Makes every breath after feel like cheating."
Another clash.
Juno stepped in fast—too fast for someone who was just flung through a pillar—and caught Dem Oche's wrist barehanded. Not with magic. With force.
Then he headbutted him, cracking skull to skull, a streak of blood flying from his own nose—and Dem Oche's.
Juno used that second.
One deep slash—center mass.
Dem Oche twisted, just enough to lessen the blow, but it landed. His white uniform stained red across the ribs.
He exhaled.
Then—rage.
Light flared in every direction as Dem Oche erupted forward, driving his rapier through Juno's left arm cleanly.
This time Juno's breath hitched—but his laugh still rose beneath the pain.
"Yeah… that's it…"
"Let's keep going."