Chapter 28: Divine Verdict: Soul Balance

The arena was deathly silent—except for the roars of tens of thousands above.

Malikai Doom and Seraphiel Dawnveil stood across from one another, unmoving.

The referee had long since announced the beginning of the battle, but not a single blow had been exchanged.

Not yet.

Instead, two monsters gazed into one another—divinity and abyss, heaven and carnage. The collision hadn't begun, but the heavens already trembled.

Seraphiel stood tall, her white robes fluttering like judgmental banners. Six wings were out now, each spread wide, catching the light of the sky like a divine tapestry. Her eyes glowed faintly—etched with gold, fury, and something else.

Contempt.

Her lip curled.

"The filth and sin in your soul…" she spoke, her voice audible to the entire arena despite its softness. "It's… denser than any Asura I have ever laid eyes upon. The weight of your wickedness… repulsive. Abominable. Why do you walk this realm with the scent of slaughtered fate on your back?"

Malikai didn't respond. His axe rested on his shoulder, one hand gripping the haft lazily. His other hand was stuffed in the pocket of his long, crimson coat. Black hair rustled in the wind. He stared at her like a butcher sizing up meat.

Seraphiel's brow furrowed.

"How strange. With that much sin in your soul… and merely early Core Formation cultivation… even if your battle prowess reaches peak Core, or even rivals Nascent Soul—you shouldn't be standing before me."

Her grip tightened on her gleaming longsword. It pulsed with divine pressure.

"I'll cleanse this world of your rot."

Still, no reply.

But in Malikai's mind…

Strong.

His thoughts were calm. Measured. Tension ran through every fiber of his frame—but not from fear. From calculation.

Way weaker than the clone of Father I fought in the Battle Tower… But She's dangerous.

Then he moved.

No signal. No buildup. Just a single step forward.

Space cracked.

The distance between them vanished as Malikai crossed the arena in an instant. His body blurred like a crimson specter—appearing in front of her without warning.

His axe swung down in a brutal, unadorned cleave.

No technique.

Just brute strength. Raw, terrifying force that shattered air and made the arena tremble.

BOOM!

But before the weapon could connect—

She vanished.

Light particles burst like a radiant blossom. Malikai's axe split only emptiness.

High above, Seraphiel reformed, floating in midair, wings outstretched. Her sword ignited in her grasp—a golden blaze etched with the runes of divine laws.

"Judgment Light: Righteous Gale."

A slash of burning light cascaded toward him—a horizontal wave of slicing divine energy aimed to cut both body and soul.

Malikai raised his axe and blocked, the force blasting him back through the air. But before he crashed, he adjusted mid-flight, kicked off a platform of spiritual pressure, and shot up toward her.

Their blades met in the sky.

Steel clanged against divinity.

"Heavenbrand Spiral!" Seraphiel spun in midair, her sword a whirling halo of light. It lashed down in a spiral arc—each rotation sharper, faster.

Malikai bared his teeth.

"Bloodwrought Grind!"

He spun as well—his axe becoming a crimson vortex of force that tore through her spiraling slash, absorbing the momentum and turning it into raw counterforce. The shockwave cracked the clouds above them.

Back and forth, they clashed—hundreds of exchanges in the span of moments.

She used a Heavenly Shear, a move that split the sky open. He countered with Abyss Crusher, collapsing her technique into a crater of pressurized force.

Seraphiel moved like divine wrath incarnate—every strike clean, purposeful, just.

Malikai was raw power and chaos—every blow designed to break laws and limits.

The arena watched with bated breath.

A single misstep from either would end it.

Eventually, they separated in midair, both panting faintly.

Malikai had cuts on his arm, his coat ripped, blood staining the side of his jaw. His chest rose and fell, but his eyes gleamed with ferocity.

Seraphiel's armor had cracks. Her left wing had a golden feather missing. Her wrist bled slightly, and her breathing was tight.

She narrowed her eyes.

"You're not bad," she admitted. "A sin-soaked creature with control… rare. But it ends here."

She raised her sword above her head.

The sky darkened instantly.

A celestial scale shimmered into existence above the arena—massive and ancient, forged of divine marble and flame. One plate bore her insignia. The other—Malikai's soul.

"Divine Verdict: Soul Balance."

A ringing sound echoed—like the chime of finality.

The scale began to tilt.

Malikai's eyes widened slightly. Not from fear. From pressure. Soul pressure.

"Your sin outweighs all reason. The world itself demands your removal," she said coldly.

Then—

CRACK.

The scale tipped entirely.

And from the heavens, a massive, spectral hand emerged—formed of glowing justice fire, its fingers curled with condemnation.

It reached for Malikai.

To snuff out his soul.

To erase his existence.

She'd only ever used this technique twice.

Both times, her enemies died.

This would be the third.

And as the hand descended from the sky like divine execution…

Malikai narrowed his eyes.

No smile.

No taunt.

Just readiness.