The vortex of black petals and swirling ink struck Deiora's blazing aura head-on.
For a moment, the two forces hung suspended and locked in a struggle that sent shockwaves rippling through the clearing. The ground beneath them cracked, splintered, and gave way as the sheer pressure of their collision carved a deep trench across the battlefield.
Then Deiora's aura surged.
Crimson and gold exploded outward, wrapping around his body like a second skin. His veins pulsed brighter, thicker, the golden light spreading across his entire frame until he seemed to be carved from molten metal and living fire. His muscles swelled, his form growing denser, more imposing, as the Demonic Vajra Body reached its peak.
"Such petty tricks cannot overcome me!" Deiora's voice boomed, resonant with power. "Your darkness means nothing before the light of true strength!"
