The fortress had endured sieges before. It had withstood beasts, abyssal hordes, even the pressure of Abyssal lords equivalent to 7-star and 8-star beast tamers.

Its walls had been reforged a dozen times across generations with the most precious metals, and their construction had even been personally overseen by a demigod. Its vast sigil networks had been designed by master artisans and embued with energy by multiple demigods. Special care had always been paid attention to this point because, supposedly, the prophecy of the abyssal invasion had names this far north as a key spot. Which is why this fort was the only frontier to have not yet fallen to the Abyssals on the continent.

But none of that mattered when their wasn't a demigod to oversee it. And there was one on the opposing sound baring down on its walls…

The sky dimmed without warning as if the light had been drained away. The air thickened, tasting faintly of iron and dust. For a brief second, time seemed to stretch so thin that Serena felt her own heartbeat echo as though it had been slowed and magnified.

Then the pressure hit.

It rolled across the fortress like a tidal wave, crushing air from lungs and forcing countless soldiers onto their knees. Sigils on the walls of the fort flickered, their light sputtering violently before collapsing altogether. Some walls shattered and exploded spontaneously under the weight of the aura alone, burying passing soldiers in rubble without any warning.

Serena absorbed the impact, her body straining but not collapsing. She had been raised under the oppressive presence of her grandfather—a true human demigod. Her bones had learned how to stand under such weight. Her nerves had learned how to remain functional. Her mind had learned not to shatter on contact with this godlike pressure.

But this—this was different.

This was not a demigod's discipline, or training of her.

Because at the end of the day, despite his stern demeanour, her grandfather adored her. This was the first time she was experiencing this pressure, no-holds-barred from an enemy.

Serena braced her stance, shifting the unconscious boy in her arms. He remained limp and cold, body stable but lifeless. His soul was gone; nothing in him could react to fear or to the domain pressing upon them.

The fortress, however, reacted instantly.

At first it was just screams—simple, human screams. Then those screams turned feral. Entire squads broke formation as emotional instability swept across them, not merely weakening their resolve but rewriting it entirely. A commander drew his sword, spun, and cut down two of his own men before anyone understood what they saw. Another soldier began clawing at the throat of his own brother, eyes the scarlet red of abyssal, veins turning the characteristic black of the contaminated. A pair of guards, previously disciplined veterans, turned on each other in rabid violence, cracking skulls against stone with strength they should not have possessed.

There were no symptoms. No hesitation.

No visible wounds to indicate they'd been contaminated. Nor any of the characteristic mental struggle, as the last of their sanity resisted the change.

One heartbeat they were human—stable, sane.

The next, they were monsters.

This demigod, from what Serena could tell, seemed to be a corrupted Infernal Creature. Possibly even one of the 'Great Demons' that control the '7 Sins'. Based on the irratic and violent actions of those in the domain, turned or not, it is likely the former representative of 'Wrath'.

As such, the domain of the Abyssal demigod did not need to corrupt them with close proximity or through a physical wound like usual. It simply reached into their hearts and through the fury sparked their, was able to have the seed of contamination grow. The Abyssal corruption rode on emotional instability, erupting into full transformations that bypassed the usual stages entirely. Some of the weaker bodies ripped open as black tendrils burst through skin, tearing them into newly born abyssals that fell on their own comrades with vicious hunger.

"So this is a demigod's domain…" she whispered. Even with a demigod grandfather, she had never been on the opposing end of the domain, her grandfather not wanting to take any risks of letting her enter one in its combat-ready state.

Her grandfather used to warn her:

"A true demigod's domain is not a technique. It is not a spell. It is not something they 'activate.'

It is what they are. Once it is released, it is difficult to control what happens after."

'But how? Aside from that anomaly in the Azure Serpent Kingdom, Abyssals shouldn't be able to use their domains under the restraint of this world's Will'

And indeed, from what they'd seen before, this demigod had been unable to release his domain in the previous confrontations against them, giving the human side the complete advantage.

What Serena, and even Kain, didn't know was that there was another reason the demigod dragon Abyssal was split up and remained sealed in various relics on this planet, and was not allowed to run back home.

As a unique being intimately tied to fate and destiny, it possessed the ability to manipulate the threads of providence themselves—an ability so rare that even in the Abyss, only a handful of entities across countless eras had ever held something comparable.

Whenever it invaded a world, the fabric of fate around it loosened. Probability bent. Coincidence sharpened into inevitability. And most dangerously of all, the limits imposed by a world's native Will—the same Will that currently held the Abyssals in check—began to fray.

This creature could siphon luck, twist destiny, and twist the "flow" of a region's future until the world's Will could no longer properly oversee that area.

Once weakened, the suppressive force that kept Abyssal powers muted would drop sharply, allowing its Abyssal allies to exert far more of their true strength. In extreme cases, an entire battlefield could turn into a place where the Abyss fought as though it were their home turf.

And all of this could happen without the dragon ever lifting a claw—merely by existing long enough for its influence to take hold.

It was only because the newly freed dragon had not yet recovered its full strength, and had stolen only a fraction of the surrounding fate, that the Wrath Abyssal's domain manifested in this restrained, crippled form. Had the dragon regained even a portion of its former mastery over destiny… Serena would not merely be struggling.

She would no longer be human.

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