Ex rank talent Awakening: 100\% Dodge rate-Chapter 330: BATTLING THE LUST CLAN V

Greg simply stood still in mid-air, utterly unbothered.

Not worried in the slightest.

Just calm, profoundly, almost unnaturally calm, like a Buddhist monk deep in meditation, untouched by the storm raging around him.

His wings beat slowly and steadily, holding him suspended with effortless grace.

The wind tugged at his clothes, but his expression remained serene, eyes half-lidded, breathing even.

The concentrated demonic energy finally reached him, a roaring comet of black-violet power that warped the air in its wake and crackled with destructive intent.

It missed.

The blast streaked past Greg by mere inches, close enough that the heat singed the tips of his hair and left a faint ozone smell in its trail, but it never touched him.

The energy exploded harmlessly against the distant ground far below, sending up a plume of shattered rock and dark smoke.

"Hmm. How odd," Azazel muttered, his voice carrying across the distance with genuine puzzlement.

He was certain Greg hadn’t moved, not even a twitch. No dodge, no shift in position. The miss defied logic.

"Annabelle. Begin," Greg called to his sister, his tone quiet but firm, carrying easily through the battlefield.

Greg was going for the textbook approach to killing a boss monster: chip away at defenses, probe for weaknesses, wear the enemy down methodically.

Except he was going to do it with a little bit of cheating, his favorite kind.

Annabelle nodded once, her expression focused and resolute.

She began her spell casting immediately, hands rising as arcane energy gathered around her in swirling patterns.

Golden threads of power wove between her fingers, the air humming with building pressure. She would need time, precious minutes, to complete the incantation.

Greg, knowing her casting would take a while, began the round of attack without delay.

He willed several arrows into existence with a casual flick of his mind.

Dark, razor-edged projectiles materialized in the air around him, humming with abyssal energy.

They shot forward in a tight volley, streaking toward Azazel like black comets.

Azazel responded instantly.

He raised one hand, demonic energy coalescing into a thick, rippling shield of midnight purple.

The barrier shimmered like liquid obsidian.

The arrows struck the shield and shattered harmlessly against it, dark shards dissolving into smoke.

The defense held without a single crack.

Greg had already expected the failure. No surprise flickered across his face.

But he wasn’t defeated.

He pressed forward immediately, wings flaring as he flew straight toward Azazel at high speed.

Heaven Defier gleamed in his grip, trailing faint wisps of shadow.

He swung the legendary blade in a powerful arc aimed directly at Azazel’s chest. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

The strike carried enough force to split stone.

Azazel casually defended himself.

He lifted one clawed hand and deflected the attack with an open palm.

The clash rang out like metal striking metal, sparks flying as Heaven Defier slid harmlessly aside.

Greg wasn’t finished.

Still in close range, he opened his mouth wide and spewed a torrent of Abyssal flames, black fire laced with violet veins that devoured light itself.

The inferno roared toward Azazel in a rolling wave.

Again, Azazel blocked.

Demonic energy surged up in a denser barrier, absorbing the flames completely.

The fire washed over the shield and fizzled out, leaving only faint scorch marks on the air.

The Demon Lord refrained from counterattacking.

Instead, he focused purely on defense, eyes narrowed as he studied Greg’s every move.

He was trying to understand, dissect, the strange abilities of this intruder who refused to behave like any normal opponent.

Greg pressed still, refusing to let up. He led a relentless series of attacks and feints: sword slashes, flame bursts, shadow spikes, rapid dashes.

Each strike tested Azazel’s defenses, probing for the tiniest opening.

Azazel met every blow with calm, impenetrable blocks, the two locked in a high-speed game of attack and defense that filled the sky with flashes of dark energy and sparks.

Annabelle, finally finishing her casting, thrust both hands upward.

"Cataclysm!" she shouted, her voice ringing with power.

The sky of the demon realm, already perpetually dark, grew impossibly darker.

The faint red glow from the blood moon was completely overshadowed, swallowed by an encroaching void.

Thick, roiling clouds gathered directly above the group in seconds, churning violently.

The clouds burned with an unnatural, angry red color, as if the entire mass had been set ablaze from within.

Flames licked along the edges, crackling and spitting embers that drifted downward like dying stars.

Greg and Azazel paused their exchange simultaneously.

Both turned their heads upward, eyes narrowing at the apocalyptic sight.

The cloud, as if alive and sentient, parted slowly, like a colossal mouth opening wide.

From the center, flames poured down in a massive, roaring waterfall of fire.

The deluge cascaded toward the battlefield below with apocalyptic fury, heat warping the air into shimmering waves.

Azazel, unable to dodge the sheer scale of the spell, braced himself.

He raised both arms high, demonic energy surging upward in a towering pillar.

The dark power formed a massive dome-like barrier above him, thick and unyielding.

He blocked the heavy downpour of flames head-on.

The fire hammered against his shield in endless torrents, the impact sending shockwaves rippling outward.

Embers scattered, the heat so intense it scorched the ground far below even through the barrier.

Greg moved backward smoothly, wings beating once to create distance.

He hovered, arms crossed, pondering silently.

Azazel’s defense was heavy, impressively so.

He needed a way to break through that ironclad guard without wasting more time.

"Alright buddy. You’re up," Greg muttered under his breath, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"Only you can change the outcome of this battle."

[Mystery Box (Active)]: Using this skill grants the user a random buff, the effect and level being completely random. (Cooldown: 3 hours)

Greg activated the Mystery Box without hesitation.

It was a risky gamble, one that could grant him overwhelming power or saddle him with a crippling debuff.

The randomness was absolute, no control, no safety net.

But the day was his lucky day.

The skill resolved instantly.

[Defence Nullifier: For the next six hours, all your attacks will be undefendable]

"Jackpot," Greg muttered, satisfaction subtly etched across his otherwise calm face. A quiet gleam of anticipation entered his eyes.