If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patréon at
"https://www.patréon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !
/*\
The flames of the Infernal Court steadied, their golden glow casting long shadows across the chained forms of the two combatants. Neron's momentary flicker of surprise vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that unshakeable calm, the mask of a demon who had woven webs of deception across eons. Jason, still bound in iron links that gripped his soul like unyielding fingers, felt the Domain's warning hum in his bones a subtle vibration, a reminder that paradoxes were tolerated once, but not again.
Neron wasted no time. His eyes gleamed with infernal cunning as he drew a breath, the chains clinking faintly with the rise of his chest. "I vow," he intoned, his voice weaving into the fabric of the Domain like threads in a loom, "that in the next exchange of blows, my strike will draw first blood from you."
The flames roared upward, assessing the vow's weight. It was bold but measured—not an impossible feat, given the soul-binding chains that limited evasion, but risky enough in the face of Jason's instincts. The Domain responded instantly, burning text searing into the sky:
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Neron]
[Content: Draw first blood in next exchange]
[Wager: 25 points]
The chains didn't loosen, but the air between them thickened, charged with the vow's enforcement. Neron didn't wait for confirmation. With a flick of his wrist—his arms straining against the restraints—green energy coalesced in his palm, demonic essence drawn from the depths of his being. It wasn't a vow-powered strike; it was raw, unfiltered power, a blast of corrosive force that hurtled toward Jason like a spear of verdant hellfire.
Jason's response was immediate, cursed energy flaring along his bound form. He couldn't dodge fully, the soul chains anchoring him in place, but he twisted just enough, channeling a surge of power into his fingertips. "Cleave," he muttered under his breath, the word not a vow but a command to his own abilities. A razor-thin line of cursed force sliced through the air, meeting the green blast head-on. The two energies collided in a shower of sparks, the cleave splitting the projectile in two, but a fragment grazed his shoulder, searing through fabric and drawing a thin line of blood.
The Domain pulsed. Neron's vow held—first blood drawn. The flames awarded him the points, the text updating with a triumphant glow. But Jason didn't flinch at the shallow wound; instead, his eyes narrowed, calculating the flow. The exchange had tested boundaries: simple attacks could fly free, unbound by points, as long as they didn't invoke the Domain's judgment.
"Twenty-five points," Jason said flatly, his voice echoing in the golden void. "Not bad for a graze. But let's raise the stakes." He flexed against the chains, cursed energy coiling like a serpent ready to strike. "I vow that your next attack will fail to touch me at all."
The flames surged again, evaluating the claim. It was audacious—Neron's demonic blasts were precise, fueled by centuries of infernal might—but in this chained stasis, where movement was a luxury, the Domain deemed it unlikely enough to warrant value:
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Jason]
[Content: Next attack fails to touch]
[Wager: 40 points]
Neron's lips curled into a subtle smile, appreciating the gambit. "Ambitious," he murmured. "But ambition without foundation is folly." He raised his bound hands, telekinetic force rippling outward despite the soul restraints. The air warped, invisible tendrils of power grasping at Jason from all sides, aiming to crush and rend without a visible projectile. It was a demonic staple—telekinesis born of soul manipulation, twisting reality to his will.
Jason countered swiftly, his cursed energy erupting in a defensive barrier, not a full domain but a reinforced shell of raw power. Dismantle slashes fanned out in a protective arc, shredding the telekinetic grip before it could close. The invisible forces clawed at the edges, tearing sparks from his barrier, but none breached to touch flesh. The vow held; the attack failed entirely.
The Domain acknowledged it with a blaze of approval, transferring the 40 points to Jason. Pain lanced through Neron's form—not fatal, but a sharp rebuke from his own broken intent, the vow's failure manifesting as ethereal cracks along his demonic frame. He grunted, green energy flickering around him to seal the damage, but his eyes burned brighter. "Clever. You force me to overcommit or risk nothing. But games of defense win no wars."
He pressed the advantage, launching a barrage of simple hellfire orbs—crimson spheres that exploded on contact, unbound by vows but laced with necrotic essence that could rot flesh from bone. Jason met them with a volley of cleaves, each slash dissecting the orbs mid-flight, explosions blooming harmlessly in the void. The chains rattled with every exertion, souls straining against the iron, but the raw clash built momentum, each fighter probing for weakness.
"I vow," Neron declared amid the chaos, his voice cutting through the din like a gavel, "that before this exchange ends, I will shatter your defensive barrier and expose your core."
The flames analyzed: Shattering Jason's cursed energy shell was feasible with Neron's power, but the vow's timing—tied to the ongoing barrage—made it a tight window, elevating the risk.
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Neron]
[Content: Shatter barrier before exchange ends]
[Wager: 55 points]
Jason's mind raced. The vow forced escalation; he couldn't just defend. As hellfire intensified, he channeled more cursed energy, his barrier thickening, but Neron's telekinesis wove in, hammering at weak points with invisible precision. A crack formed, necrotic rot seeping through. Jason retaliated with a dismantle wave, broad slashes carving through the assault, but Neron twisted space subtly—spatial manipulation bending the path of one slash back toward Jason.
The barrier held, but barely. Neron's vow teetered on fulfillment. "I vow in turn," Jason countered, his tone steady despite the strain, "that your spatial bend will backfire and wound you instead."
It was a pinpoint gamble—targeting Neron's specific technique mid-use, unlikely but rooted in Jason's instinctive mastery of cursed flow. The Domain weighed it heavily:
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Jason]
[Content: Spatial bend backfires and wounds Neron]
[Wager: 70 points]
The clash intensified. Neron's hellfire merged with telekinetic thrusts, pounding Jason's shell. A spatial warp redirected another dismantle, curving it unnaturally—but Jason infused it with a reverse twist, cursed energy inverting the bend. The slash looped back, grazing Neron's side, drawing infernal ichor. The vow succeeded; the backfire manifested.
Neron hissed as the wound sealed with green energy, but the Domain awarded Jason the 70 points, while Neron's unfulfilled vow—barrier unbroken—transferred 55 more to Jason and inflicted a deeper ethereal gash across his chest. Pain flared, but Neron endured, his demonic physiology regenerating slowly. "You turn my tools against me," he acknowledged, voice laced with respect. "But every vow you make reveals your limits."
He unleashed a torrent of illusions—lifelike decoys of himself, each projecting hellfire blasts, unbound deceptions to overwhelm. Jason's slashes cut through phantoms, cursed energy wasting on fakes. "I vow that your illusions will blind you to my true strike," Jason declared, pushing the envelope.
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Jason]
[Content: Illusions blind Neron to true strike]
[Wager: 60 points]
Neron laughed softly, the sound echoing in the flames. "Predictable. I vow that your overreliance on slashes will leave you open to my grasp." His telepathy probed Jason's mind, a subtle mental spike amid the chaos, aiming to disrupt focus.
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Neron]
[Content: Overreliance leaves Jason open]
[Wager: 65 points]
The battle devolved into a frenzy. Jason's cleaves danced through illusions, one true strike slipping past Neron's guard amid the confusion—his vow holding as the illusions masked the real threat, awarding points. But Neron's mental grasp exploited a momentary lapse, telekinesis yanking Jason's chained form forward, exposing him briefly. Neron's vow succeeded, points shifting, damage rippling through Jason as soul-bound iron tightened punishingly.
Points accumulated: Jason at 225, Neron at 145. Simple attacks flew—Jason's dismantle barrages clashing with Neron's energy projections, green blasts scorching the void, hellfire clashing against cursed barriers. Neron's necromantic tendrils reached out, attempting to siphon life force, while Jason's slashes severed them, each exchange building tension, souls straining against chains.
"I vow," Neron pressed, sensing the tide, "that I will force you to expend all your current points in futile defense before I claim victory."
It was insane—unlikelihood skyrocketing the value, a vow banking on Jason's caution crumbling under pressure.
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Neron]
[Content: Force futile point expenditure]
[Wager: 120 points]
Jason's eyes flashed. "I vow that your arrogance will cost you double what you wager here." Countering the vow's hubris directly, turning Neron's risk against him.
[VOW REGISTERED]
[Speaker: Jason]
[Content: Arrogance costs double wager]
[Wager: 150 points]
The flames boiled. Neron unleashed a chronokinetic pulse time warping slightly around Jason, slowing his reactions unbound by vows. Jason adapted, cursed energy surging to counter the temporal drag, slashes accelerating unnaturally. The vows hung in balance as attacks intensified: Hellfire storms met dismantle waves, telekinetic crushes clashed with cursed reinforcements.
Neron's pulse nearly forced a defensive point spend, but Jason held, his vow triggering as the temporal warp overextended arrogance costing Neron, the Domain transferring 240 points (double the 120) to Jason amid failure damage that cracked Neron's form. Jason's total soared to 615.
Neron regenerated, green energy knitting wounds, but pressed on with spatial rifts portals summoning demonic claws. Jason cleaved through, his points mounting. "Enough," Jason growled. With 615 banked, he spent 500 on his pinnacle vow-powered strike, the Domain enforcing it flawlessly.
"I invoke Dimensional Slash."
The air fractured. A cut beyond space tore forth, ignoring chains, bypassing defenses a rift that severed existence itself. It struck Neron clean, bisecting him from crown to core. Infernal essence sprayed, his form unraveling in a cascade of green and crimson.
For a heartbeat, victory hung. Neron's eyes widened, then dimmed.
But then... laughter. Soft, echoing from the bisected halves. They knit back, not through regeneration, but redirection the wound vanishing as if never there. Screams echoed faintly from beyond the Domain, millions of demonic voices in distant agony.
Neron stood whole, his smile unbroken. "You cannot kill what is shared among legions," he whispered. "My contract with Hell's demons... any fatal blow redirects to them. I am their king, their vessel, their shield and their doom....To kill me...Is to kill them all..."
/*\
If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patréon at
"https://www.patréon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !