Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 331: BATTLING LUST CLAN VI

Annabelle began casting another spell, her hands weaving intricate patterns in the air as energy gathered around her.

Her previous spell had been easily defended by Azazel, the flames dissipating harmlessly against his barrier.

"My turn," the Demon Lord informed the group, his voice smooth and ominous.

He pointed his hands toward the sky, fingers splayed wide.

"Ultimate ability. Moonlight Resonance," Azazel called out gently, his tone almost casual as he directed his fingers upward.

Greg stared at Azazel, a sharp sense of unease creeping through him.

He got a bad vibe from the Demon Lord’s actions, an instinctive warning that prickled at the back of his neck.

He felt genuine danger from Azazel’s impending attack, prompting him to grip his sword tightly.

His knuckles whitened around Heaven Defier’s hilt as he took things seriously for the first time.

"Darkness Dome," Greg invoked his ability, channeling shadows that swirled and solidified into a protective barrier around Annabelle.

He poured half of his mana into it, ensuring the dome’s impenetrable strength to safeguard his sister from whatever was coming.

"Increased defense. Damage reduction," Greg said in the ancient dragon tongue, layering buffs onto himself.

His body hummed with reinforced power, his defenses surging greatly.

The actions depleted most of his mana, but not completely.

A faint reservoir remained, pulsing steadily within him.

The moon in the sky acted strangely, its crimson glow shifting unnaturally. 𝙧𝙚𝙚𝔀𝒆𝓫𝓷𝙤𝓿𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝙤𝓶

Three glaring eyes materialized on its surface, massive and unblinking, staring directly at Greg with malevolent focus.

The eyes burned with demonic intensity, locking onto him like predators sizing up prey.

Greg held his blade steady, the danger he felt intensifying further as those eyes bore into him.

A chill ran down his spine despite his buffs.

From the three eyes, intense beams of demonic energy were released toward Greg and his sister, but with far more focus concentrated on Greg.

The light was blinding, laced with corrupting power.

The attack from the moon was one backed by an Absolute Concept, raw and unstoppable in its essence.

The beams struck Greg, bypassing his Concept of Absolute Resolution entirely.

The energy pierced through his defenses like they weren’t there.

Greg transformed into his partial dragon form in a surge of power.

Hard, obsidian scales covered his entire body like a second skin, save for his face, which remained exposed.

His muscles bulged, wings flexing slightly.

[You have been critically damaged!]

Greg stared dumbfoundedly at the system’s notification, annoyance flickering across his features.

The alert glowed in his vision, a stark reminder of vulnerability.

He had lost one third of his total health just from that one attack.

Pain throbbed through his body, but he pushed it down.

Even Annabelle was not spared, despite the heavy protection he had granted her.

The dome had absorbed much, but not all.

Unlike Greg, she had lost half of her health.

Blood trickled from her lips, her casting interrupted as she staggered slightly.

"Change of plans," Greg frowned deeply, the fact that his sister could die not sitting right with him at all.

Protective instinct burned hotter than any flame.

"Annabelle, support the others," he informed her firmly. "I will be taking care of him alone."

He wasn’t taking any chances now; the risk to her was too great.

His eyes glowed a brilliant gold as he activated his Observation skill, the world sharpening into crystal clarity around him.

"He can only use his ultimate move once every three hours," Greg thought to himself, piecing together the data.

"That means I have six hours to make everything count, or I’m screwed."

"I see," Azazel remarked. "Whatever ability you have doesn’t work against Absolute Concepts."

"In that case, it’s my victory," Azazel added, his confidence swelling like a dark tide.

"And who decided that?" Greg asked coldly, his voice laced with defiance.

He launched forward like a speeding jet, wings propelling him at blinding velocity.

In his partial dragonification form, his all-round strength increased exponentially.

Speed, power, durability, everything amplified to overwhelming levels.

Greg swung Heaven Defier at Azazel, his eyes scanning rapidly for the weakest point on the Demon Lord’s body.

The blade whistled through the air.

Azazel, as usual, tried to block the attack casually with an outstretched hand.

But he realized his inability to do so.

The blade met no resistance.

Greg’s strike sliced cleanly through Azazel’s chest, drawing a deep gash that sprayed dark blood.

[Critical hit!]

Azazel frowned, caught completely off guard.

Pain registered on his face for the first time.

Greg remained focused, stabbing the exact same point with Heaven Defier in a follow-up thrust.

The blade drove deeper, forcing Azazel backward through the air.

With his mouth wide open, Greg released Abyssal flames, a roaring inferno of black fire that engulfed Azazel, causing another wave of critical damage. The flames licked hungrily at his form.

Azazel remained perplexed, his mind racing as he wondered what was going wrong with his defenses.

Confusion clouded his eyes.

But Greg didn’t care to allow the Demon Lord time to ponder for an answer.

He pressed the advantage relentlessly.

Stretching his hand outward, Greg gripped Azazel’s legs with shadowy tendrils, yanking him downward and flinging him toward the ground with tremendous force.

Azazel crashed to the ground with a loud thud that shook the earth, cratering the surface and sending dust billowing upward.

Greg, descending like a rocket from above, stomped down hard on Azazel’s chest.

The impact caused more cracks to spiderweb across the ground of the demon realm, the force reverberating through the landscape.

With his mana, which he had already replenished through rapid regeneration, Greg created a dome covering just him and Azazel within its confines. Shadows solidified into an impenetrable barrier.

Azazel rose to his feet slowly, his mind finally clicking to the fact that he couldn’t dodge Greg’s attacks anymore. Realization dawned, sharpening his gaze.

"It seems the stakes have been increased even further," Azazel said.

"But who is to say that I have to keep receiving your attacks? All I need to do is flee."

He began levitating, wings spreading as demonic energy gathered beneath him.

"I’m aware of that," Greg replied evenly.

"There’s a reason you’re within this dome."

"Hmph. You really think a dome can hold me within it?" Azazel asked, disappointment lacing his tone as he tested the barrier.

"It won’t. But this will."

"You can’t leave this dome," Greg declared in dragon tongue, infusing the command with absolute authority.

The words sapped his mana until only a few drops remained within him.

But that wasn’t a problem to Greg.

As long as even a minuscule amount lingered, he was okay with it, the command held.

"Hmm? Dragon tongue," Azazel muttered, his eyes widening slightly.

"So that was your ultimate stunt."

He realized he had been had, feeling the constriction tighten within his very soul.

An invisible chain bound him, unbreakable and unyielding.