Entering Apocalypse in Easy-Mode-Chapter 581: Tenth

Clyde stepped onto the ninth floor and felt it immediately.

The pressure in the air was different. Not heavier like the usual greenish poison, not colder like the Demonic’s artifact presence.

It felt tense, stretched thin, as if the space was holding its breath. There was no fog or corrupted flesh pulsing from the walls. The floor was clean unscarred stone, almost respectful.

Someone stood at the center.

She looked like a woman. Tall, slender and her body was not mutated and intact. No swollen flesh, exposed organs, or green smoke leaking from her skin.

She wore torn, dark clothing that clung to her frame, and in her hand was a sword that looked forged.

Its blade was narrow and worn, chipped at the edge as if it had seen too many battles.

Clyde slowed.

Her head lifted the moment he entered. Their eyes met.

Her gaze struck him harder than any toxin smoke before. It was not rage, or hunger. It was pain. Deep and endless pain carved so thoroughly into her expression that it felt permanent.

Her eyes were hollow yet sharp, as if she had been tortured so long that her mind broke, but her body kept moving anyway.

Clyde frowned. This was wrong.

"She doesn’t look like a monster," he thought. "But she’s not human either."

The woman shifted her footing without a word.

Her sword came up smoothly in a disciplined stance. Like it was muscle memory, not instinct. She was trained to do that.

Clyde tightened his grip on the Demonic sword and raised it defensively.

The moment his blade angled upward, she vanished.

Not blurred or dashed. Just vanished.

Clyde barely had time to widen his eyes before steel screamed against the blade of bone.

CLANG!

The impact rattled his arms and forced him back a step. Sparks and crimson light burst outward as their blades locked.

She was fast. Too fast.

He twisted away just as her sword slid past his guard, the edge grazing his body.

Pain flared sharp and immediate. His blood flowed out.

Clyde sucked in a breath.

"She cut me," he realized. "Clean!"

The woman did not press immediately. She flowed, repositioning with fluid footwork, then struck again.

Her movements were terrifyingly precise. Her swings carried clear intent, not just brute force.

Then, speed-enhancing skills flared around her legs. Acid condensed along her blade, sizzling as it grazed the stones.

Clyde blocked twice, then ducked as a horizontal slash carved through the air where his head had been. Acid splashed across the floor, eating into the stone.

He countered with the Demonic sword.

Crimson light surged as he swung. The blade howled, power rippling outward, but she met it head-on.

Her sword screamed in protest, but it was held. The shockwave still threw her back several meters.

She skidded, boots scraping stone, then stopped.

Her breathing was uneven.

So was Clyde’s breathing.

"She’s using multiple skills at once," Clyde thought, eyes narrowing. "Speed, and then those acid, and rinforcement skill."

She charged again.

This time Clyde stayed grounded. He adjusted his stance, lowered his center, and waited.

The moment she closed in, he stepped inside her reach and slashed upward.

She twisted in the middle of her strike impossibly fast, then her blade dragging acid across his arm.

Pain burned white-hot. Clyde gritted his teeth and slammed his shoulder into her chest, forcing distance.

They separated.

Blood dripped from his arm and side. The Demonic sword pulsed, as if irritated.

The woman stared at him, eyes trembling. For a brief second, something flickered there. Then it vanished.

She raised her sword again.

Clyde exhaled slowly.

"This isn’t a mindless fight," he thought. "She’s been broken and sharpened into a weapon. I bet this must be that World Master’s doing."

His grip tightened.

"If I hesitate, I die."

Crimson light flared brighter as he stepped forward. He steadied his breathing and loosened his shoulders, ignoring the sting crawling along his arm and side.

Blood continued to drip, warm against his skin. He had too many cuts and near misses.

He could feel the difference now.

"She’s not wearing me down," he thought. "She’s dismantling me slowly with her speed and skills."

The woman advanced again, blade angled low, footwork tight and economical. No wasted motion or hesitation. Her steps was calculated to end him.

Clyde clicked his tongue softly.

"I can’t win this by trading attacks."

His fingers tightened around the Demonic sword.

The weapon pulsed slow and deep, like a heartbeat answering his own.

Clyde frowned slightly, surprised by the sensation. When he had wielded it before, the blade felt hostile and domineering. Like it was tolerating him at best. That’s just the nature of Demonic things.

Now it felt... receptive.

"You’re reacting to me?" he thought.

He pushed his power inward, careful at first. The Demonic energy he once wielded in his last live surge again in a familiar yet distant manner.

He did not know how much he could draw out without consequences. He didn’t know what it would cost.

But he knew one thing.

"If I don’t use this," he thought, "I’ll die here."

The woman lunged.

Clyde released his restraint.

Demonic power flooded into the blade and instead of resisting, the sword accepted it. No backlash or rejection. The black veins along its surface flared bright crimson, then ignited.

Fire power bloomed.

Not wild flames, but dense, coiling fire wrapped tightly along the edge of the bone blade.

It burned deep red, almost black at the core, radiating heat that warped the air around it. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Clyde’s eyes widened slightly.

He stepped forward and met her charge.

Their blades collided again, but this time the sound was different. Not metal on bone, but something cracking under pressure.

Her acid-coated sword hissed violently as the fire devoured it, neutralizing the corrosion on contact.

She recoiled, finally forced on the defensive.

Clyde pressed. His swings carried fire and pressure. The Demonic blade carved through space, leaving scorched arcs in the air.

The woman blocked twice, barely, her arms looked shaking.

Her speed skills flared again, but the fire clung, licking at her blade and eating through her reinforcement.

She tried to disengage.

Clyde didn’t allow it.

He stepped inside her guard and slashed diagonally.

Fire tore through her shoulder, burning flesh and cloth. She screamed. The sound was raw, broken, and painfully human.

For a split second, her eyes cleared.

She looked at him. Not as an enemy.

But as a relief for her endless pain.

Clyde hesitated.

Then her body collapsed forward, and the tower answered for him.

He swung once more.

The fire surged, engulfing her completely. Her form disintegrated into ash and fading light, carried upward and gone.

Silence returned to the ninth floor.

Clyde stood still, breathing hard, flames slowly dying along the blade.

The path upward began to form.

Clyde turned toward it with his injuries felt burning.

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