Reincarnated in a novel: I am the villain!-Chapter 311: A little bit more

Finally," Damien laughed, the sound sending a chill down the spines of every demon watching.

Looking at the new assura in front of him, he couldn’t help but recall how similar it was to the asura who told him about his parents.

Only this one seemed to be more aggressive.

"A proper warmup."

The words hung in the suffocating, blood-soaked air for a fraction of a second before the sheer audacity of them shattered the Asura’s sanity.

"WARMUP?!" The four-armed Asura roared.

The sound was a physical shockwave that blew the surrounding corpses into mist.

The volcanic plate armor encasing the giant’s body erupted into literal active volcanoes, spewing rivers of superheated magma.

He didn’t care about the apocalyptic Demigod clash happening in Layer 9 anymore.

The absolute, unadulterated humiliation of being treated as a stepping stone by a surface human completely consumed his 8th-Order mind.

"I AM THE LORD OF THE ASHEN PEAKS! I HAVE SLAUGHTERED DRAGONS HOW DARE YOU!"

The Asura charged. Every step cracked the bedrock of Layer 6, creating massive fissures that swallowed hundreds of lesser beasts.

His four arms wielded dark-matter halberds, and he brought all four down in a synchronized, inescapable grid of execution meant to atomize Damien on the atomic level.

Damien didn’t retreat. He didn’t even widen his stance.

He looked at the descending dark-matter blades and felt the familiar, crushing weight of an 8th-Order attack. In the past, just standing near this level of power would have ruptured his organs. He would have had to burn his life force or rely on a trick just to survive a single blow.

But not today.

’I am tired of surviving,’ Damien thought, his twilight-purple eyes perfectly calm.

His Eclipse Core spun. the Golden Dragon Aura and the Hollow King’s Shadow wove together flawlessly, moving through his mana veins like silk.

Damien raised his left hand, entirely unarmed.

KRA-KOOM!

The four dark-matter halberds slammed into his open palm.

The impact created a deafening sonic boom that temporarily deafened the mercenary army miles behind him.

A shockwave of magma and dark matter expanded outward in a perfect ring, vaporizing everything in its path.

But when the smoke cleared, the Asura’s eyes widened in absolute horror.

Damien’s boots hadn’t slid a single inch in the mud. He caught the full, bloodline-burning strike of an 8th-Order Demon Warlord with one hand.

Covering his palm was a perfectly smooth, translucent film of twilight-colored energy, his Will Armament, elevated by his Eclipse Core to an unbreakable absolute.

"You slaughtered dragons?" Damien whispered, tilting his head. The Golden Dragon Aura inside his chest flared, insulted by the giant’s boast.

Damien squeezed his fingers.

CRUNCH.

The indestructible dark-matter halberds shattered into black dust.

Before the Asura could even register the loss of his weapons, Damien pivoted.

He channeled the tyrannical, burning weight of the Golden Dragon into his right fist, wrapping it in the devouring void of the Hollow King.

He stepped inside the giant’s guard and drove his fist directly into the center of the Asura’s volcanic breastplate.

"Dual-Art: Eclipse Strike."

There was no grand explosion. There was only a terrifying, hollow thud.

The kinetic force passed through his armor, through his dense demon muscles, and detonated directly inside his 8th-Order core.

The Asura froze. The magma pouring from his armor instantly turned to grey ash. He looked down at the human, his four eyes rolling back into his head, before his massive body simply crumpled, falling to his knees and face-planting into the mud, dead in a single strike.

Silence slammed into the battlefield.

The remaining four 8th-Order Warlords,the Behemoth of abyss-wood, the three-headed acid serpent, the shifting tectonic mass, and the weeping centipede stared at the fallen Asura in disbelief.

An 8th-Order Warlord. An Apex Predator of the Deep. Killed with a single punch.

"What kind of monster is this?!" the Behemoth roared, his abyss-wood body creaking with sudden, primal fear. "Don’t fight him one-on-one! Crush him together!"

Driven by the sheer terror of survival, the four remaining Warlords burned their bloodlines simultaneously.

They didn’t hold back as they didn’t care about collateral damage. They unleashed the absolute pinnacle of their power: their Domains.

A domain of absolute rot. A domain of boiling acidic oceans. A domain of crushing gravitational stone. A domain of psychic, weeping despair.

The four 8th-Order Domains overlapped, creating a chaotic, suffocating sphere of multi-layered death that expanded rapidly, swallowing the battlefield and aiming to completely erase Damien from reality.

Miles away, the Dukes of Argentum fell to their knees, vomiting blood just from the residual pressure of the overlapping Laws.

"Master!" Isabelle screamed, struggling to stand against the sheer weight of the aura.

Damien stood alone in the epicenter of the descending apocalypse.

The acid rained down. The gravity tried to crush his bones. The rot tried to eat his flesh, and the psychic wails tried to shatter his mind.

He didn’t reach for the System. He didn’t check his Destiny Points. He didn’t need a bought miracle.

He closed his eyes.

’To reach the 8th Order, you must master a Concept. You must become a Law of the world,’ Damien recalled Queen Aelinor’s lessons from the elven forest. ’Fire. Earth. Rot. These are elements. But my Law...’

He thought of his sixteen years in this world. A boy who had nothing, who stole a villain’s body, who hoarded friends, wealth, and power because he refused to ever be a victim again. He wanted everything. He claimed everything.

Damien opened his eyes. The cross-shaped pupils blazed with terrifying, absolute sovereignty.

"Domain Expansion," Damien’s voice wasn’t loud, but it resonated through the very fabric of Layer 6, cutting through the roaring of the Warlords like a bell tolling in a graveyard.

"...The Greedy King’s Court."

Yes reaching 8th order, his domain had once again made another upgrade

VWOOOOM.

A blinding, majestic wave of twilight-purple light erupted from Damien’s body. It didn’t clash with the four incoming Domains or fight for dominance.

It simply devoured them.

When Damien’s Domain touched the acid, the acid neutralized into harmless water. When it touched the crushing gravity, the gravity inverted. When it touched the rot, the rot evaporated.

The four 8th-Order Warlords froze in mid-air.

The world around them changed. The blood-soaked mud of the Slag Heap vanished. The sky of Layer 6 disappeared.

They found themselves standing in an endless, immaculate throne room with floors of polished obsidian and pillars of solid gold. Spectral thrones hovered in the twilight sky above them. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

The Warlords gasped, their eyes widening in absolute, primal terror.

The space around them no longer belonged to the Abyss. They felt a crushing, metaphysical weight pressing down on their souls.

They felt like trespassers who had accidentally stumbled into the private sanctum of a tyrannical Emperor.

The gravitational weight of Damien’s Will was so absolute that the three-headed serpent and the weeping centipede were instantly forced to their bellies, unable to lift their heads.

"You..." the Behemoth choked, his wooden limbs splintering as he tried to stand against the pressure. "What kind of Law is this?! You are just an 8th Order! How can your Domain suppress four of ours?!"

Damien casually walked forward. It was like he was descending on an invisible staircase of compressed air, his coat billowing behind him.

"Because your Domains are born from the environment," Damien stated, his voice dripping with absolute authority. "They are born from desire and the very laws you embody."

He stopped right in front of the trembling Behemoth.

"My Domain," Damien whispered, drawing the Pantheon Sword,

"is born from the desire to own everything. In here... your lives belong to me."

Damien swung the crystal blade.

"Eclipse Sever."

A flash of twilight-purple light illuminated the obsidian throne room.

It was a single, impossibly thin line of energy, a perfect synthesis of absolute destruction and absolute domination. It swept horizontally across the entire Domain.

It passed through the Behemoth’s indestructible abyss-wood. It passed through the tectonic mass of stone and the three-headed serpent and the weeping centipede.

For a long, agonizing second, the throne room was completely silent.

Then, all four of the 8th-Order Warlords slowly slid apart, cleanly bisected.

Their massive bodies crashed onto the obsidian floor, their lives extinguished before their nervous systems could even register the pain.

Damien stood amidst the falling bodies of the five apex predators. He didn’t look tired, there wasn’t even a single drop of blood on his coat.

The frantic, desperate aura he used to carry in battles was completely gone, replaced by the effortless grace of a true powerhouse.

He flicked his wrist, sheathing the Pantheon Sword with a sharp clack.

He retracted his Domain.

VWOOP.

The obsidian throne room vanished, replaced instantly by the chaotic, blood-soaked reality of the Slag Heap.

The five bisected corpses of the Warlords crashed into the mud, sending a wave of toxic green blood washing over the ridge.

The entire mercenary army, the Dukes of Argentum, and even Isabelle stared at the lone figure standing amidst the carnage in absolute, terrifying awe.

He had just slaughtered five beings capable of wiping out surface nations without taking a single scratch.

Without chanting a single spell. He had turned an apocalyptic stampede into a personal execution block.

"Is... is he a God?" Duke Aurum whimpered from his golden palanquin, his bloated body shaking uncontrollably.

Damien ignored the stares. He didn’t even look back at his army.

He walked to the very edge of the chasm, stepping over the bisected remains of the ancient beasts. He looked down into the bleeding, crimson mist of the pit, toward the unseen depths of Layer 9.

He felt the apocalyptic tremors shaking the bedrock, the distant, god-like clashes of his parents fighting the Rotting King that were so violent they were tearing the dimensions apart.

He clenched his fist, feeling the raw, undeniable power of the 8th Order humming seamlessly in his veins. He wasn’t the weak, scrambling boy who had fallen into the Abyss anymore.

"Hold on, Mom. Dad," Damien whispered to the bleeding sky, a confident, predatory smile visible beneath the shadow of his mask.

"Just a little bit more."

Author’s Note: Expect a surprise in the next 4 Chapters!