Genius Noble With System
Chapter 336: Apollo join the Battle

Chapter 336: Apollo join the Battle

The collision was cataclysmic.

The sky split in half.

Demonic flames and pure, raw power met in a collision that didn’t just shake the earth—it shattered the concept of balance itself. For a heartbeat, nothing existed—no sound, no time, no gravity. Just raw rule clashing against rule, belief clashing against belief.

But although the attack was fierce, both held their ground. As the dust settles, both are still standing tall; however, it is clear the ancient person from the sanctum has the upper hand.

Aravin chains were cracked; even some were destroyed in their confrontation, as although the rule of demons was extraordinary, the difference in the understanding of rules was quite different.

Arvain panted, eyes burning but unwavering. The demonic phantom behind him flickered, visibly weakened, but its gaze remained defiant. Despite this, his presence continued to evoke a sense of a looming black storm.

"Kid, you are weak. All you can try, but the outcome wouldn’t change, so let me quietly put the mark; why struggle?"

His voice wasn’t loud, yet it pressed into Arvain’s bones like a mountain. That Mark he spoke of was more than a symbol—it was a submission seal for capturing the soul. A brand of ownership.

But Arvain just chuckled, low and bitter.

Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, yet he stood tall. "Weak? Maybe. But I’d rather be crushed a thousand times than kneel once. I’m not your pawn."

Behind him, the demonic phantom let out a broken, wrathful shriek. The cracked chains snapped inward, reforming in jagged spirals. The Rule of Demon roared again.

And far above, Apollo’s eyes shimmered. Watching all of this.

The difference in strength was clear, but he still felt that Arvain should have a trump card or treasure. As for the ancient guy, he was strong and should be stronger than the ancient being he fought.

Now he was thinking, should he meddle between their battle right now or not? As for why he meddled anyway, because this sneaky bastard, the moment he appeared, marked Clark and Sara using some weird means, but this tricky guy was careful as he didn’t try it on him.

However, it still cannot remain hidden in front of him.

Since he already made his plan, later he intended to make a move on them, so battle was inevitable.

His fingers flexed slightly, spiritual energy swirling silently in his palm.

Below, Arvain roared again, blood painting his jaw, as his demonic blade clashed against the Rule of Power. Even in pain, he resisted, unwilling to submit.

He exhaled.

A heartbeat passed.

Then Apollo stepped forward from the sky—his silhouette gliding downward like a falling sun, radiant yet silent.

Lightning and starlight flickered behind his back as he descended. He had decided to make his move since he was eyeing him, so why did he need to hesitate?

In that moment, the entire battlefield froze. Even the ancient being paused, his pupils narrowing slightly. And without saying anything, he attacked the ancient being from the sanctum.

He instantly teleported and appeared behind him and delivered a terrifying kick that, although it didn’t contain any rule of power, seemed to contain infinite power.

BOOM!

The sound rippled through the realm like a heavenly drum smashed by the gods themselves.

Apollo’s kick landed squarely on the ancient being’s back. It was raw force—no rule, nothing complex —just pure, terrifying power born of honed control and monstrous physique. The air ruptured as though unable to contain the sheer kinetic weight. Space behind the ancient folded and cracked like splintering glass.

The ancient being flew forward, crashing through numerous layers of space. Dust and red light burst outward in a shockwave that sent lesser cultivators to their knees miles away.

The battlefield gasped.

Even Arvain, wounded and supported by his phantom, blinked and thought. "What happened? Why would he help me?"

More importantly, he was shocked by the terrifying power just shown by Apollo. Although it happened very quickly still saw a little bit of it. Just by physical strength he was able to show such otherworldly strength beyond belief.

Dust still hung in the air like sacred mist.

The ancient being from the sanctum tumbled through the horizon, space still shattering in his wake. He finally halted, floating, blood dripping from his mouth from the sheer impact on his body.

He raised a hand and touched his back.

For the first time in countless years, his expression changed—not rage, but caution. As he clearly felt the terrifying power in a simple kick, which seemingly came from a young void god.

Apollo, mid-air, didn’t even look his way.

Instead, he glanced down toward Arvain. His tone was dry but not mocking.

"Are you still alive?"

Arvain coughed and nodded slowly.

Apollo exhaled. His blue eyes—ancient beyond his age—refocused toward the recovering sanctum warrior. His body remained relaxed, but the pressure around him began to rise, like an ocean pulled into the air before a tsunami.

"Don’t look at me feeling surprised; you are the one who made the first move. So, better not try to hide it anyway. You want to fight? Let’s just fight." His voice rang loudly, which changed the expression ancient being.

As it seems, his little trick was still noticed by Apollo. He wanted to ambush him using the secret mark, as he knew he was a monster that never appeared. But now it seems his plan has failed.

The ancient sanctum floated in the sky, blood at the corner of his lips, fingers still resting lightly on the mark Apollo’s kick had left.

"This brat... He didn’t even use a rule..."

The ancient being’s eyes, long accustomed to looking down on others, sharpened. The arrogance was gone—what replaced it was the caution one might have before a sleeping dragon that had finally opened its eyes.

But before he could think anymore, Apollo attacked, and this time it wasn’t an easy hand. He raised his hand and used the rule of space.

The ancient being’s pupils constricted.

Before even a full thought could form in his mind, space itself split apart above him—and from within that rupture, a colossal hand forged of pure spatial power surged down like the judgement of the cosmos.

A dimensional collapse in the shape of a hand, where distance, light, and direction all crumbled. The air screamed. The laws of the realm bent and broke, crushed under the pressure of Apollo’s spatial power.