back at the Zaiphon barrier, the Black King crushed his conjured popcorn beneath his foot.
"…WHAT THE FUCK?!" he barked. "How the hell did he just gain equal footing with Dis himself?!"
Makima, lips curling, eyes narrowing with wicked delight, stepped forward like a queen watching a fool fall off a throne.
"Ho ho… so you're fucked now, huh? . That's good. Because when Kang Woo wins—and he will—you're one hundred percent fucked."
The Black King's glare twitched—but before he could snap back,
Mikhail's voice cut in, still calm and measured. he warned, "You don't understand how we higher beings think. Dis is not someone you can fight in a street brawl."
Makima turned slightly, her gaze flickering with amusement. She didn't reply. instead—she smiled. A rare, childish smile. As Kang Woo's silhouette burned like a titan of legend on the battlefield, she whispered with the giddy energy of someone truly proud "Go Kang… win."
At the battlefield. Kang Woo and the Crimson King were locked in a clash that shook reality itself.
Each blow they exchanged sent tremors through space and sky, cracking the fake heavens overhead. Kang Woo adapted swiftly—his movements sharpening, reading the Crimson King's brutal, overwhelming style. The Crimson King fought like a force of nature, throwing punches that felt like reality-shattering warheads, each laced with destruction potent enough to erase entire continents.
The Crimson King's thoughts twisted with something close to disbelief. "I'm… being forced back?"
Kang Woo's voice rose through the dust. "Hellblaze Omega."
A colossal black orb, jagged and spider-like, burst forth from Kang Woo's palm—its surface crawling with cursed glyphs, leaking flame darker than void. The Hellblaze Omega exploded against the Crimson King with a soundless detonation—pure shadow fire engulfing the titan .
The Crimson King was hurled backwards, ten meters from Kang Woo, smoke and flame still hissing from his mangled robes. His breath came heavy. For the first time in eons… he looked like a fool. A godlike entity overwhelmed— by one man.. Kang Woo.
And then— "WAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The shriek tore from the Crimson King's chest—grotesque, high-pitched, almost comedic in its absurdity. But the impact was anything but funny.
Even those shielded within the Zaiphon barrier—Makima, Mikhail, and the ever-jittery Black King—froze as the cursed sound rippled through layers of dimensional fabric.
Outside the barrier?
Kang Woo collapsed to one knee.
The Crimson King swaggered forward with grim triumph, voice vibrating with pride.
"Ruinous Dirge," he declared.
"A sound-based curse... lowly and dishonorable, cruel beyond imagining. A chorus of screams and laughter. Your worst deaths, your failures, looped for eternity in your mind. You unravel, mortal . From the inside out. You… self-destruct."
He raised his massive crimson fist. And just as it was about to fall—
Kang Woo smiled. "Unfortunately for you…" he said, voice low, dangerous, rising,
"…my law is despair itself."
The moment of hesitation was all he needed.
With a blur of demonic grace, Kang Woo slashed Crimson King's throat—his Rakshasa Red Greatsword igniting as it struck.
But it didn't end there. He whispered, "Starscourge."
The blade infected the Crimson King, daemonifying the wound, infusing it with a corruption so alien even the King of Ruin staggered back—clutching at his bleeding neck, eyes wide in disbelief.
Ha mortal bypass my disease manipulation?
The answer came too quickly. Kang Woo's blade flared again, surging with black flame.
He whispered the name of the technique: "Divine Thousand Slice."
A thousand slashes struck the Crimson King at once, as if time itself were cleaved.
The Crimson King was sent crashing into the mountains, a red blur ripping through stone and sky. Peaks shattered. Valleys imploded. He coughed—black-red blood dribbling from his torn mouth. His form trembled. His pride bled. His grip on dominance—shaken.
Kang Woo remained standing. From the outside, he looked perfectly fine—save for a few minor bruises. But within, he felt it. The kaiserGesang ritual had succeeded in restoring a portion of his ancient power, but to sustain that surge, he'd been forced to crank open the sea of demonic energy to its abyssal threshold. He was overdrawing. And something was slipping. His emotions.
Unaware of the creeping change, Kang Woo moved with lethal intent.
His Rakshasa blade, now glowing with elevated Starscourge infection, hissed as it sliced the air. He lunged—to impale, to infect, to end it.
But space folded. The Crimson King reappeared in the sky, coughing violently, his chest scorched, his throat still partially ravaged by the daemonification.
Kang Woo clicked his tongue. "Tch."
High above, the Crimson King trembled—half in rage, half in disbelief.
Even thinking was difficult. He couldn't speak properly now, his throat torn and warping any syllable into a guttural mockery of speech.
And yet, he screamed through the pain:
"Ahhhm… th-the Eahhh-ter… of WORRRLSSS!"
Spit and blood flew from his mangled mouth.
"None… n-nuhhhnne! Ehhh-ver beat meh! N-not even… my fathhher… muhhh-mother…!"
His voice cracked with broken fury.
"Ah'll s-slaughtah… thooousaands moooore! Ah'll… never—never be deh-feahhh-ted here!"
In the sky, the Crimson King loomed like an apocalyptic omen—his fury overflowing, his madness unchecked. he activated it.
Ultimate Skill – Crown of Crimson Dominion , Above his head, a grotesque crown of blood-red metal and pulsating, living veins erupted into existence. Its spikes twisted like antlers of a cursed god, pulsing in rhythm with the distorted beats of his heart. The air cracked and folded, warping space around the Crimson King as the very concept of "resistance" began to twist and collapse.
Within the radius of the Crown—stretching across miles—every attempt at resistance was inverted. The harder one fought back—be it through physical strength, magic, or sheer mental fortitude—the more they were drained, crushed, and assimilated.
Defiance became self-destruction. Power became fuel for the Crimson Dominion. It was a throne of ruin, and all who stood against it were condemned to feed it.
With the crown ignited, he enhanced his form further—one step closer to pure madness.
Skill – Disorder Ruler His arms twisted with entropic armor, black and scarlet, pulsating with raw, disordered force. Weapons of living chaos grew from his flesh—ever-shifting, incomprehensible tools of violence forged in madness. The Crimson King's reality manipulation became fluid, instinctual. He no longer needed logic or sanity to control the battlefield. His madness was enough.
.
Across the field, Kang Woo… smiled. From his hands, a surge of black-red mana exploded outward—two legendary weapons manifested in his grasp.
Incarnated Weapons – Blades of Chaos The twin, chain-linked blades . Each blade crackled with hellfire and shadows, screaming with the echoes of past battles .
The Crimson King moved first. Reality folded sideways—space itself tearing into ribbons as his massive fist crashed toward Kang Woo's side. But Kang Woo's instincts fired before thought. One chain-wrapped blade snapped up, intercepting the blow with a sound like a mountain cracking in half. The shockwave hurled dust and debris for miles.
The Crimson King's thoughts roared behind his fractured gaze. He Immuned that? Even with my reality warping? The old tricks—the divine manipulations, the conceptual hax, the entropic rewriting—meant nothing here. Against this mortal. Against him. There was only one way left to kill him now:
Pure, brutal, world-shattering violence. And so they clashed. Blade met fist. Punch met punch. Their faces collided in a burst of seismic force, a crater erupting beneath them so wide it swallowed a forest. In that one blink, the sky turned red and black. In the next, they had already collided a thousand times.
Each exchange tore through time itself. Kang Woo's chains lashed across reality. The Crimson King's arms struck like collapsing dimensions. Their footwork crumbled mountains. Their force crushed air into plasma. It was a war of gods—and one of them wasn't even supposed to exist anymore.
Then, the Crimson King flew back—preparing. With a twisted gesture of his clawed hand, he warped the entire terrain. The earth melted into a bubbling hellscape. Rivers of blood boiled beneath obsidian cliffs. Spires of screaming stone rose to pierce Kang Woo from all angles, like the bones of the world turned against him. It was a painter's nightmare, a living canvas of death sculpted through sheer divine will.
But Kang Woo didn't falter. His body twisted mid-air, flipping between spears of magma and inverted gravity. Each slash of his blade canceled out a thousand deadly traps. He moved like entropy was his dance partner. Not a single blow landed. His movement mocked the domain itself.
The Crimson King's face contorted with fury. His own dominion—his Crown of Crimson Dominion—was turning against him. The inverted resistance meant nothing. The more Kang Woo fought back, the stronger he became. The concept that should have crushed him now only forged him harder.
And Kang Woo knew it. His smirk widened. With a guttural snarl, the Crimson King gave chase—leaping into the sky like a meteor reversing gravity. Kang Woo met him halfway, stepping into the air as if it were solid ground. Their collision cracked the clouds into spirals. Every punch was a warhead. Every blade swing a rupture in natural law.
Why…? the Crimson King thought, fury twisting through his skull. Why is he keeping up? My Crown should be draining him. But he grows stronger with each clash. With each second…
The crimson glow around his crown surged brighter—intensifying into a halo of blood and madness. His eyes ignited with a deeper, redder rage. He roared and poured everything into the domain. The sky itself bled. Space howled.
But Kang Woo only narrowed his eyes. A new presence flickered in his stare. The black sclera thickened, darkened into void. His pupils—already monstrous—now spiraled with divine, geometric formations . ,Runes of judgment, of calamity. Patterns etched by a god long betrayed.
Magic Eyes of Chaotic Destruction awakened. With their activation, every aspect of Crimson King's domain began to unraveled. And then—
They clashed again. The collision tore a massive gash across reality. And at the far end of that wound… Stood the Dark Tower. Its silhouette pulsed in the void, distant yet near, like a monument untouched by time—watching them, perhaps waiting. The air around it was silent. Judging.
Kang Woo and the Crimson King didn't stop. Their light-speed blows carved symphonies of chaos into the void. Chains howled. Fists shattered entropy. Blades tore through reality-warped armor. Every collision fractured the heavens—black snow raining from the sky, melting midair like falling sorrow.
They had fought so fast—so far—that Earth had disappeared beneath them. Now, unknowingly, they clashed at the very threshold of the Dark Tower. Its presence loomed behind the folds of torn space. Silent. Ancient. Watching.
Kang Woo surged ahead. A black comet. His chains whipped in a spiral of annihilation, his form bending light itself.
Opposing him, the Crimson King—a streak of red fury—slashed through the void with a trailing cloak of blood. Every movement he made was like a stroke of madness across an empty canvas.
From within the Zaiphon barrier, Makima stared, her eyes wide in disbelief. She couldn't keep up. The speed, the brutality—it had become incomprehensible. Beside her, the Black King clenched his fist, his face twisted in quiet, seething disbelief.
That bastard... he's keeping up with Dis. The Crimson King is throwing everything at him... and it's still not enough.
On the battlefield—chaos incarnate—the Crimson King moved to strike, but misread.
Kang Woo was already behind him. A flash of red chain. A twist of divine instinct. Then—The Blade of Chaos stabbed through Dis's right shoulder. A second one drove into his left.
Kang Woo didn't pause.
"Authority of Titanic Might." His muscles roared. The void bent.
"Authority of Haste." Time folded inward.
A flurry of blows detonated. Faster-than-light impacts hammered the Crimson King from all sides—so rapid that some strikes arrived before their visual trails, while others landed before the sound of the prior blow even ended. Space rippled. Then cracked.
Shockwaves ripped across the battlefield, turning the space around them into a kaleidoscope of broken dimensions.
Crimson armor shattered. Pieces of his divine shell flew in every direction, gleaming like bloody glass. Each impact left another fracture across his form—chest, ribs, shoulder, neck, spine. His body was still standing, but the damage was insurmountable. His equilibrium—gone.
But the Crimson King refused to fall.
With a roar that split dimensions—
"HRAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
—the sky collapsed.
The Crimson King's body expanded, warping into a titanic form, large enough to eclipse sky itself . The Crown of Crimson Dominion flared, fusing with a new, far more dangerous force.
He invoked Chaos Genesis.
Fire burned cold.
Water crystallized into shards of glass.
Time spasmed like a broken gear.
Wounds healed into twisted deformities.
Kang Woo's instincts flared—but too late. A sudden backlash of warped reality struck him clean across the torso. Blood spilled. The Crimson King didn't let up. With a guttural snarl, he slammed Kang Woo's body into the foundation of the Dark Tower, pinning him like a cursed relic.
Kang Woo gritted his teeth. His eyes locked onto his opponent's.
The Crimson King saw them. The Chaotic Eyes—the only thing that gave Kang Woo his edge, anchoring his mind and defiance against Chaos Genesis. The Crimson King's claws reached forward, trembling with primal hatred. One centimeter from gouging them out—
Kang Woo whispered. "…Gilieriam Naviem."
A tremor answered. The Crimson King froze. Something had been activated.
A condensed destruction ignited within Kang Woo's very source , each step raises every level of user strenght .
The first step of an irreversible chain had begun. If the seventh step was reached… the world itself would be destroyed a thousand times over.
Kang Woo's arm moved—casual, effortless. In the blink of an eye, Force Edge—his devastating sword—appeared mid-swing. The Crimson King's arms and legs were cleaved apart, flung into different directions by the sheer force embedded in the technique. Divine blood sprayed into the void like meteoric rain.
The Crimson King gasped—stunned. What just happened?
Agony shot through every nerve, every remaining joint of his broken body. His mind screamed in disbelief. He had faced god-slayers, ascended tyrants, even his own cursed bloodline… but this—
This mortal, this Kang Woo, .
Kang Woo didn't wait. He raised Force Edge, its blade now humming unnaturally as he sliced his own palm. A line of blood slid down the edge—and the weapon reacted. It pulsed. Shifted. Awakened.
The dormant seal snapped. What emerged was its true form—the Demonic Sword of Sparda, infused with ancestral wrath and abyssal power.
And Kang Woo wasn't done. He activated the second step of Gilieriam Naviem, his body igniting with layered energy focused solely on Dis. The earth beneath his feet cracked, but the damage redirected—tethered only to the Crimson King.
A blur—then fifty slashes—blinding, instantaneous, unstoppable.
The Crimson King staggered back, his thoughts spiraling. Why—why is this happening?
Snarling, he invoked Chaos Genesis again—reality bent, his limbs began to regenerate. In a burst of madness, he conjured the highest reality barrier—a layered, chaotic fortress between them.
Then he leapt away, spider legs crashing through stone, fleeing toward Todash Space to escape the slaughter. But it was useless.
Kang Woo activated the third step. With one breath, he moved—and the barrier shattered like glass.
The Crimson King barely had time to comprehend what went wrong before Kang Woo appeared in front of him in midair. In a single devastating motion, he drove the Demonic Sword of Sparda through his chest, activating the fourth step.
The result: one hundred precise, devastating slashes—every strike amplified by the source energy spiraling through Kang Woo's awakened form.
The Crimson King's body tore apart once more—limbless, legless, shredded into ruin. Divine ichor spilled freely across the ether. The dark titan fell.
Kang Woo stepped back slowly, his breathing shallow but steady. Across the broken battlefield, the Crimson King—once a towering nightmare of omnipotent madness—was now a shattered husk. Limbless. Bleeding. Armless. His robes were torn, tangled in spider-leg remnants twitching against gravity..
crimson king mangled head turned toward Kang Woo—sluggish, jerking—like even thought took effort.
Then he screamed. "WHHHHHRRRRRRUAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHH!"
A bubbling of rage and disbelief, scraped through a throat still half-slashed, wheezing through shattered vocal cords. It echoed, distorted. Maddened.
"JHHHHRRT… HUUHSS… TH-THHSSSS…" "THHIIISSS… CCCRRRRRRREAAATURE—!"
Each word clawed itself into existence. Raw. Wet. Spat with ichor. He couldn't even scream in proper syllables anymore, yet the weight of his shock still echoed across the sky.
"WHHYY… CCCAAANNNN'TTT… I-I-… CCCRRRUUSHHH… YUUU…!"
The Crimson King's shriek of helpless rage echoed across the battlefield—raw, slurred, ruined. But his fury still called to the depths of Todash. Cracks tore open behind him in warped space, rips in reality that pulsed with madness. Out from them came his servants—twisted and loyal.
Low Men stumbled forward in their human-disguised forms, smiling with too many teeth.
Taheen followed, half-human hybrids with animal heads and weaponized limbs.
Todash creatures slithered from the void—abominations with limbs that didn't match and voices that gurgled backwards.
Even the spilled blood of the Crimson King—soaked deep into the stone—began to churn, bubbling, birthing aberrant soldiers from coagulated gore..
They came for Kang Woo. He only smiled. "…Burning Legion.. Decimate them."
With those words, green fire tore the heavens apart. Hundreds thousand of portals ripped open midair. From them, Kang Woo's secret army descended.
Towering Dreadlords fell first, their wings casting long shadows across the land.
Fel Lords charged with molten axes, their armor glowing like burning coal.
Doom Lords marched behind them, chanting ancient fel incantations.
Pit Lords, towering brutes of muscle and spikes, emerged stomping with earth-breaking force—each one cursed the battlefield with a Doom Brand, eroding enemy souls before the blades even touched.
Eredar Warlocks, robed in arcane flame, hovered as they launched barrages of soul-eating energy.
Then came the skies—Nether Dragons, roaring, bombarding Todash's spawn with corrosive fire and anti-magic breath.
The Crimson King's forces were torn apart instantly.
From above, the Dreadlords chanted a summoning in a long-forgotten tongue.
Infernal meteors rained down, crashing through the battlefield like burning gods.
Waves of fel flame bathed everything. Screams echoed for only seconds—then silence.
Reality warped further—but this time under Kang Woo's command.
Then, at the center of it all, he arrived.
A towering demon stepped from the largest green portal, glowing with dark majesty.
Archimonde the Defiler. He raised his hand without a word. The sky turned emerald. "NETHER STORM."
A cosmic vortex exploded outward, unleashing a maelstrom of fel lightning, fire, and soul-dissolving magic that tore the battlefield apart. Every Todash rift collapsed, and the portal that might have offered the Crimson King an escape was annihilated—sealing him in place. His remaining abominations were reduced to ash in an instant. Even the air itself screamed as reality bent under the storm's wrath.
And there, at the base of the Dark Tower, stood the Crimson King—limbless, legless, mutilated beyond divinity.
His mind whispered, How did it come to this?
I was the King. The Crimson King. Ram Abbalah. The Eater of Worlds. The heir of Eld and the chaos-blood of the Crimson Queen.
Only Roland's Excalibur gun could temporary defeat me, the Tower could only contain me, never destroy me. None could erase me.
But this man—this creature—he shatters my every truth. He tears my every ability. Before him, I am nothing but blood and ruin…
Then his thoughts froze. A sudden pain bloomed in his chest.
Kang Woo had stabbed him clean through the heart. A single blade. Venuzdonoa. A sword that denied all concepts. It rejected even the idea of resistance.
The Crimson King's eyes widened. This… feeling… this fear…
The same fear he felt eons ago, when the sigils of Gan faded… when he first tasted the inevitability of being forgotten.
His voice rasped, broken beyond repair. "D—Do—nnn't… kill… m-me… Pl—ease…"
But Kang Woo didn't blink. He raised a hand calmly.
"Myriad Demon Palace of the Shallow End," he said coldly. "First Door—open."
The Dark Tower groaned. A massive demonic gateway tore itself into existence beside it. From the gate, a flood poured outward—but the Demonic Sea, endless and alive, a psychic mass of devouring , hunger, and wrath. It hissed across the landscape, flooding everything, devouring stone, air, and memory.
Kang Woo's voice echoed once more.
"Authority of Predation."
The ground quaked.A giant, abyssal maw opened in the sea . a black vortex of eternal consumption.
The Crimson King screamed. in fear. He was dragged into the Demonic Sea—his broken body swallowed whole, his screams echoing once, then vanishing.
The sea swallowed him. And then it gulped down itself. Collapsing back into Kang Woo.
Far across the veil of realms, deep within the Zaiphon Barrier, glowing runes still shimmered, etched into the air. From Tokyo to the farthest anchors of the ward, every participant . gazed toward the crack in reality .
They had felt it. Reality—touched by the Dark Tower—had just snapped.
The Black King, lounging with casual arrogance moments ago, now stood frozen—mouth slightly agape. He blinked once, twice. His thoughts spun like whirlwinds. Did Dis… just fucking die?
The Eye of Mikhail, still floating gently beside Makima, turned its gaze upward. The energy around it dimmed, its voice calm, solemn—borderline reverent.
"The Crimson King… has finally fallen. Through eons, his reign was unchallenged. Through worlds, his terror never ended. But now, on this day….…he closes his eyes forever."
Makima didn't speak. She just sat there. But she smiled. critical introspection hidden behind composed lips and sharp stillness—like a Queen watching history being written with her name quietly carved along its margins.
I don't know fully who this "Dis" is… this Crimson King. But his name—it echoed. Even beyond our world. Every corner of space seems to whisper it like a curse, she thought, eyes steady as the battlefield lay quiet beneath the devoured sky.
I know the multiverse in rough way . Kang Woo showed me the Citadel of Ricks. I. But I never really understood… not deeply.
She blinked once, slowly.
What he did today…. Is Like when humanity first split the atom. Or when the first world war erupted. And no one will ever forget who killed the Crimson King. My husband did.
Her gaze drifted toward the legion—his legion—the Burning Legion.
Creatures of doom and dread had spawned from a single gesture of his will. Fel-born gods obeyed his call. World-shaking spells had been cast at his word.
He summoned them like a King.
And she realized—He's not used to being anything less. He still is a ruler. Not was. Is.
He accepted me… Even though I had nothing. No origin outside of my twisted obsession with the Chainsaw Devil.
Even now… every part of me is gifted by him. My Quincy powers.. My second life.
All of it… is because of him.
Her shoulders sank, just slightly. from clarity.
A rare thing. The smile didn't fade. But it grew distant. Heavy.
Am I… really worthy to stand beside him? He steps beyond gods, and I'm just someone who once wanted control over a small world I barely understood.
Kang Woo landed . The cloud in the skies parted just enough for his silhouette to be seen—smoke, silence, power.
Behind him, the Burning Legion followed like a living tidal wave of fel green and demonic hunger. They came by the millions. The dreadlords hovered like vultures over a new battlefield. Pit Lords towered, infernals smoldered, eredar whispered terrible tongues of conquest.
But it was the gaze that mattered.
Makima felt it. They looked at her with contempt. Pure, unfiltered disdain. She wasn't dumb. She Felt it.
To them, she was nothing more than a speck. A rat on the street. Maybe worse—a cockroach who somehow wandered onto the throne floor of a god. She didn't dare meet their eyes. Then one dared to speak.
Balnazzar, one of the elder dreadlords, sneered.
"My king Anos… this wretch—barely worth any—"
BOOM. A hellblaze bomb detonated beside him—instantly vaporizing the fel hound at his side. Nothing but ash and a scorched crater remained.
Eyes turned. The legion saw him—Kang Woo. His face unreadable. But his mood? Worse than wrath.
Archimonde flinched. Dreadlords swallowed their pride. Even the infernals quieted their internal flame.
kang woo didn't have to shout. But his voice came down like divine judgment.
"Choose your next words carefully," he said, cold. "It might be your head next."
No one dared speak. Kang Woo stepped forward, gaze never once leaving Makima. "Return to Argus. Now. All of you."
Then, he turned back to them just once more—his tone sharp, brutal.
"I want a private conversation with the Control Devil. And finally… she has a name."
"Any one of you slanders her again—without evidence—I will make sure you accompany Dis to the grave. Understand?"
Then, as one, the Burning Legion bowed their heads in unison. "In full understanding, my king Anos… Demon King of Tyranny."
One by one, the green felfire portals opened. And one by one… The legion vanished into the flame.
Kang Woo remained still as the last of the felfire portals closed behind the Burning Legion.
. But the pressure did not fade. His gaze turned—sharp and sovereign—toward the Black King and the Eye of Mikhail, who still hovered near the boundary of the Zaiphon barrier.
"You two," he said flatly. "Away from me."
The Black King raised a brow. "Are you so arrogant now that you ignore me just because you won?"
Kang Woo's eyes narrowed. "No. You both. Out. Now."
The command landed like a decree etched into the fabric of space.
The Eye of Mikhail didn't argue. It simply pulsed once and vanished upward in a streak of refracted light.
The Black King grumbled—something between frustration and reluctant awe—but didn't linger. His form cracked and reformed like smoke and void, and in an instant, he too shot into the sky like a jet stream of shadow and indignation.
Both were gone. And high above the Earth, now orbiting far from the site of the Battlefield