The Demon Monarch System

Compared to before, Apollo had completely overpowered Desolim and it left everyone surrounding this incident baffled. According to their knowledge, there was absolutely no way a mere human could ever think to combat a Spirit of the same realm. Much less one who has already reached the peak and only required their vessel's advancement to reach the next stage.

As a result, most of the involved parties thought Apollo had resorted to trickery. To overpower a Spirit in an exchange of attacks was utterly impossible. However, as they pieced things together, they seemed to reach the wrong conclusion.

"That's it! He's using the power of the inheritance gained at the expense of our expulsion! He's merely slapping us in the face! How dare he? I can't believe him," one of Grayson's underling's shrieked. 

In response, heated murmurs appeared. Most of them agreed with this speculation as the aura Apollo was currently exuding was impossible to refute. It was composed of pure dark energies and slight bits of mental energy. From what they learned inside the Origin Room, the orb only taught two practices—dark energy and mental energy utilization.

With Apollo weaponizing both of them, it already confirmed all of their suspicions.

"So it was the truth! Someone said they witnessed you and the Headmaster exiting from the Umbra Night Institute! Explain yourself? There is no way our for you now, you have dug your own grave," another participant chortled, exhibiting a triumphant expression.

Unfortunately for them, they couldn't be more incorrect. Apollo hadn't dug his own grave. In fact, it was them who had sewn their own fates shut. "Hahaha. Do any of you believe you amount to something?"

Apollo chuckled in amusement. At the same time, he withdrew a badge from his inventory and placed it on the ground before his feet. It was a platinum color with both crimson and obsidian embellishment filling its surface.

On the other hand, when they saw the color of the badge and the design, there were a few who narrowed their eyes, "Don't tell me you're going to be a pussy and call the instructors. As a disciplinary officer, shouldn't you be able to handle any unforeseen circumstances?" 

A few derisive voices were heard at the same time, but Apollo only smiled in return. They were sorely mistaken, he wasn't using the communication aspect of the badge. No, he was using something that would make this experience far more convenient.

"Valac, appear. Typhir, assault," Apollo mentally ordered. With the order given, despite his misbehavior, Valac moved in an instant. When it came to causing mayhem, it superseded his tendency to defy. 

"FINALLY! I can stretch my body. No more chains!!" Valac bellowed with an invigorated display of excitement. Meanwhile, Typhir simply brandished his greatsword from his shoulder.

If one was to compare his sword style now, to what it was before, then there was no comparison to be made. It was like an inexperienced toddler being pinned against a trained practitioner of the sword. Typhir forewent any excess movements and kept his muscles controlled and aligned as he moved.

The scars of Fuhrer's torturous training were engraved in the fibers of his being.

Simultaneously, Apollo activated the badge. A barrier erected around everyone, confining them within a 50 by 50-meter space. When they saw this, a look of apprehension appeared on everyone's face.

Without hesitation, every single Spirit Cultivator present summoned their Spirits. Over 50 Spirits appeared but it still wasn't capable of making Apollo's prior expression change. Of course, there was a reason why.

'Fuhrer, you have permission to do it. Everyone, act.' Apollo issued another order. Without delay, everyone made their move. Typhir's cold gaze fell on a few people. Specifically, those who were present when Grayson and Reiner first caused trouble.

"It's time for payback. Since you were present, you're accomplices just as you are now," Typhir said with an undisclosed murderous intent. A blackened crimson aura coated his blade as a sensation of destruction undulated from his weapon. It went without saying that he intended to plow through them. 

'Fwoosh!'

Typhir accelerated instantly, with his sword drawn back behind his body. Once in their proximity, Typhir expected a horizontal arc slash. Most of the defendants' Spirits guarded the strike for them, but they were shocked to find that they all took steps back.

With the power of the slash disturbed into various opponents, it only made sense for the blow to become sub-par, but that wasn't the case. Due to the amplification of his Destruction Intent, Typhir's normal strikes rivaled the techniques of his peers.

Appalled expressions appeared on his foes' countenances. At this moment, they didn't feel like they were in battle with a classmate, it felt as if they were at war with a full-blown monster!

Typhir stretched his weapon forward with a callous expression, "Come. Compared to them, you're incredibly lacking." 

This time, Typhir didn't give them a chance to respond. A sudden burst of dark hazy energy appeared at his feet and propulsed him forward faster than before. Albeit an incomplete version, it was clear he had made some advancements in the Partial Shade Silhouette.

His next strike tore through the frontier of enemies. Even the Spirit had to take time to stabilize their condition. This prompted them to stop holding back. It didn't matter if this was the academy grounds or not. Every strike their opponent dealt was ruthless and disregarded the rules of non-lethal force.

A blanket of spiritual essence congealed into a palpable screen. With the Spirit all releasing their energy, the tides were undergoing a change. A different gleam flowed through their eyes.

Consequently, Typhir smirked. This display of power still paled in comparison to an angered Fuhrer. Everything he had seen thus far failed to enter his eyes. His eyes changed, but his body didn't. The Demonic Anima in his body churned, awakening the markings of his stigmata.

On the other hand, Apollo went through similar experiences. Since he didn't intend on revealing his demonic form, he operated his evolved stigmata at its peak. The power boost it produced was much greater than before. Apollo's previously average frame swelled into a muscular contrast. 

His energy clashed with Desolim's now unrelenting aura as he stood his ground, "Make your move."

"Tch, where does this pride come from? Just because you won in that initial exchange, doesn't mean a thing. That was the result of my carelessness," Desolim retorted with a solemn expression.

"Whatever you say. Stop trying to hide your weakness. This is the result of my actions; we don't train the same, so we don't yield the same results. It's safe to say, I've already surpassed you," Apollo voiced with a condescending sneer on his face.

It went without saying, his expression infuriated Desolim. His grip on his rapiers tightened as his reasoning was stretched taut. The thought of a lesser being overpowering his strikes disgusted him. There could never be such a grand disparagement between their strengths.

"Arrggghh!!" Desolim roared and dashed towards Apollo, brandishing his rapiers at lightning speed. At the tips of his rapiers, a dark reinforcement cascaded the blades.

  As he noticed this, Apollo conjured two short swords made of Hellfire and retaliated against the barrage of strikes. When each side's strikes met each other, sparks flew and embers of Hellfire deluged the surrounding space.

Unbeknownst to Desolim, he was placing himself in a precarious position. Although it cost Apollo bits of mental energy to sustain, he kept his Hellfire suspended in the atmosphere. This caused interference in the energy Desolim called upon. 

However, since Apollo wasn't skilled with this technique, it wasn't an instant change. It took time to accumulate enough Hellfire that would ultimately affect Desolim.

Fortunately, Desolim's resistance wasn't high. He seemed to be a Spirit who was more oriented towards speed-based offense. In other words, his defensive capabilities were lacking. After a few minutes of exchanges, he noticed the enfeebling qualities of his surroundings.

"Y-yoouu!! These are your flames," Desolim exclaimed. Sadly, with the sudden lapse in attention, Apollo lifted his foot and kicked Desolim into the same boulder. This time, the force of the collision caused the boulder to shatter. 

Slowly, Apollo approached Desolim appearing from within the rubble with madness in his eyes. "Distasteful! I will not lose to a human. Last time, your Spirit was the one to defeat me, but that is acceptable. But, I won't allow you to defeat me!"

As he roared, a cyclone of energy birthed from Desolim. This ordeal made Grayson's expression pale. His Soul Temple was beginning to feel the aftereffects of Desolim manipulating too much energy. It surpassed the normal capacity of Grayson's mind.

Naturally, Apollo took notice of this. In fact, he was banking on it. After all, there were two situations that arose when the summoner's energy was insufficient to support their Spirit's intents.

A dark smile appeared on Apollo's lips as he stood there like a dark deity wreathed in black and silver flames. "Yes, become my example. Continue your foolish actions."

Once Desolim prepared his means, two copies of his rapiers appeared along with two shadow asura. Then, another set of arms and rapiers appeared. "Now, you'll have a taste of my Dark Asura Sublimation!"

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