Damn, I Have to Marry the Strongest Antagonist at the Start?

Chapter 417: Chapter413-Facing Sargeras Once More



The overwhelming might and terror of Sargeras were deeply etched into the memories of those who had witnessed the Burning Legion's assault on Demon Sky Citadel.

To stand before him felt like an ant gazing up at the heavens utterly insignificant, drowned in despair. The gap in strength was simply insurmountable.

A Shadowed View

Not far from Demon Realm, a black enchanted carpet hovered in the void.

The carpet was grand and expansive, with a table set upon it. On the table rested an unopened bottle of champagne and two glasses of red wine, glinting in the eerie light.

Caesar, his soul condensed into a tangible form, held a glass of red wine between his fingers, swirling it lightly. The crimson liquid gleamed like blood.

Even without a physical body to savor the wine's aroma, watching the standoff between Owen and Sargeras gave him the same thrill as enjoying a fine vintage.

A celestial god attending Caesar lifted the other glass, inhaling the wine's rich fragrance before chuckling.

"Master Caesar, your foresight is unparalleled. Today's duel between Owen and Sargeras will undoubtedly unfold just as you predicted."

Caesar smiled faintly, shaking his head slightly. "The world is unpredictable. It's best not to speak in absolutes.

"Still, Owen faces not only Sargeras but also the machinations of the Forbidden Zone, The Celestial, and others. His chances of survival are slim."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The celestial god beside him smirked, responding, "Indeed, master. People hail Owen as the greatest prodigy of the age, but only because you've remained out of sight. With you here, how could this upstart ever shine?

"In your presence, Master Caesar, Owen is nothing more than a plaything."

Outside the Citadel

Owen and Venus strode through the air.

Against the endless expanse of the Burning Legion, they were but two faint specks of light, seemingly insignificant. Yet the energy radiating from them was imposing-calm and unyielding, standing firm against the encroaching tide of destructive, malevolent flames. Venus's gaze didn't linger on the legions. Instead, it quickly found its way to the Citadel's battlements, where the Archdemon and her companions stood. A sly smile spread across her lips.

"No wonder you agreed to a duel to the death with Sargeras," she teased. "With three such beauties waiting for you, who wouldn't be tempted?"

Owen's expression darkened.

He hadn't realized until now how much Venus relished making outrageous remarks.

But with Sargeras so close, Owen had no patience for distractions. Shooting Venus a sharp glance, he chose not to reply.

However, his silence only emboldened Venus, who sighed dramatically, "I see now why you turned me down so decisively before-no hesitation at all. With so many loves spread across the land, why would you need me?

"Leslie must be utterly blinded by love to put up with you, you scoundrel."

Owen's lips twitched in irritation.

Venus, despite her noble lineage and celestial status, was still a woman. And like many, she bore a grudge when spurned, expressing it with relentless jabs.

Were it any other day, Owen might have humored her antics. But today, he needed his focus sharp, his energy undivided. His icy glare silenced Venus mid-sentence.

"Enough," he said coldly.

Venus huffed but refrained from further remarks.

The Duel Begins

The already dim sky grew darker, oppressive and heavy.

Sargeras descended step by step from the heavens, each stride reverberating like a thunderclap, shaking the very fabric of the void.

Moments ago, he had stood high above, a figure in the distant sky. Now, he was less than a hundred meters away.

As he approached, the heavens seemed to sag under his weight, and the atmosphere pressed heavily upon all who bore witness.

"Owen," Sargeras's voice rumbled, as if torn from the depths of an abyss. "I told you, our paths would inevitably cross in a battle to the death."

He halted, his piercing gaze locking onto Owen. His eyes, devoid of emotion, radiated pure destruction.

From the annihilating aura emanating from Sargeras, Owen glimpsed countless shattered worlds, the cries of the dying echoing in his mind.

These were Sargeras's deeds-the remnants of the realms he had obliterated, the unending massacre of mages under his hand.

As the weight of Sargeras's presence bore down, the Burning Legion erupted into a deafening roar. Their synchronized cries rang like the clash of blades, piercing the air and assaulting the senses of all who heard them.

The sound wasn't merely noise-it invaded the mind, shaking resolve and sapping morale.

From this very moment, Sargeras was laying the groundwork for victory, using his sheer presence to dominate both Owen and the countless mages watching from afar.

Hope and Despair

"Owen, you have to win!"

The cacophony of the Burning Legion stirred memories of fear among the elder mages watching.

It reminded them of the days when the Legion's campaigns had spread across Pure Land like wildfire, leaving only death and ruin in their wake.

But now, there was a glimmer of hope: Owen.

The man who had dazzled the world with his unmatched talent now stood as their last bastion

of salvation.

Countless eyes watched as Owen faced Sargeras.

"Come on, Owen. You can do this."

"Sargeras is a monster. If he wins, none of us will be spared."

"Still, Owen is no ordinary prodigy. He transcends this age itself. We must trust in his

strength and wait."

From Pure Land to Academy City, projections of the duel broadcast the unfolding drama to all corners of the realm. Even the weakest practitioners could now witness this legendary

confrontation.

Within Owen's pocket dimension, Madelyn and the others huddled together, their eyes glued

to the projection.

Though they knew Owen well and had faith in him, the gravity of the duel left them tense and

anxious.

Behind them, Seraphina, Audrey, and the Dragon Princess clutched each other nervously,

their hearts pounding audibly.

In contrast, Ysera and Ferola watched with calm composure, their focus unwavering.

Only the Dark Elf Queen had her gaze elsewhere-on Leslie, seated serenely in the palace.

The Queen found Leslie's demeanor odd. Despite her deep bond with Owen, Leslie appeared unusually calm, her expression almost detached.

It was starkly different from her past reactions.

Did Leslie have unshakable confidence in Owen's abilities? Or was there something else at

play?

The Queen's eyes narrowed as she noticed the slumbering Little Leslie in Leslie's arms.

With each breath, Little Leslie absorbed an immense flow of life energy, and Order Runes shimmered faintly around her like protective chains.

The Queen's heart raced.

Born with an infinite connection to Order?

It was beyond extraordinary-Little Leslie might well be a Child of Creation, embodying the

mythical traits of the fabled Supreme Physique.

After all, for a mage to master even a single aspect of Order was to be hailed as a true prodigy. Yet here was Little Leslie, basking in its unbounded radiance from birth.