Chapter 13 - Part 2 - Showdown with Various Groups

Third Person Point of View

— ○ ● ○ —

"Zaorama-sama, everything is prepared and will commence once the [Malebranche] have been assembled. We have also reached out to the True Satans Faction, but they have yet to respond," reported a male Super Devil.

Zaorama Nebiros sat behind his desk, engrossed in reviewing the latest reports on the performance of the new drug he had provided to his Super Devils. A self-satisfied smile played across his face as he looked up at the Super Devil standing before him.

"Nevus, very well. Continue attempting to contact them, but if they fail to respond within the next two days, we shall proceed without them. I suspect, however, that they may ultimately join us, as their desire for revenge against the Underworld and Middleman remains undiminished," he stated, a hint of condescension lacing his words. He chuckled softly, confident in his plans.

"At once!" replied the Devil named Nevus. He promptly exited Zaorama's office, leaving the man to rise from his desk.

Strolling over to one of his holographic windows, Zaorama gazed out at the world beyond. A contented sigh escaped his lips, his smile widening further.

Zaorama Nebiros was a devil whose intelligence was nothing short of remarkable. Throughout his existence, he had been known for serving no one but himself. Even in his current collaboration with the Khaos Order, he viewed it as nothing more than a means to an end. This alliance granted him the essential funds, access to advanced equipment for his groundbreaking research, and the continued enhancement of his base's defenses. Such enhancements were of the utmost importance to him, ensuring the safety and security of his operations.

This base was no ordinary facility; it lay hidden deep underground, nestled near the Earth's molten core. The endeavor to create such a haven had consumed a considerable amount of his time, as it had been fraught with numerous obstacles. However, after departing from his previous laboratory, Zaorama yearned for something more sustainable, something that would be nigh impossible for anyone to discover.

Thus began his quest to construct a base and laboratory near the Earth's core. The endeavor spanned centuries, demanding immense patience and tenacity. But in the end, Zaorama succeeded. He not only completed the construction but also fortified it with multiple layers of magical barriers and various concealing techniques to thwart any attempts at discovery.

Remarkably, only two entities had successfully unveiled his hidden sanctuary—the Khaos Order and the enigmatic Ophis herself. Ophis had once trailed him out of sheer curiosity, effortlessly teleporting directly into his concealed domain.

However, the fruit of all his diligent labor was now ripe for the plucking, as he had devised a cunning scheme to ensnare two individuals—the enigmatic Middleman Jin Skyward and the enigmatically titled [Dreamer], a moniker bestowed upon them by the enigmatic Khaos Order. To the casual observer, these two may appear as mere Outer Gods, but to Zaorama Nebiros, they were tools, conduits through which he could unlock the boundless potential of his relentless quest for research and development.

Zaorama was no stranger to the perils associated with both Jin Skyward and the enigmatic [Dreamer]. He was acutely aware of the hazards that lurked in their wake. So, what was his grand plan, you might wonder? Over the span of a year, he had been toiling in silence, crafting a device designed to manipulate the intricate web of emotions connecting the two targets.

Zaorama possessed an intimate understanding of Jin Skyward's character, and he intended to exploit it to the fullest. Furthermore, he harbored the knowledge that Jin himself might not personally pursue him, so he set his sights on manipulating those who would be dispatched to capture him. He was well aware that the individuals sent for this task would likely share a deep connection with Jin, a weakness he planned to exploit with great precision—provoking Jin into action and goading him into confronting him directly.

In his meticulous preparations, Zaorama had mapped out a multitude of contingency plans, a veritable arsenal of fail-safes in case of unforeseen complications. He was resolute in his determination not to fall into captivity. One such fail-safe involved a daring gambit—temporary self-termination. By invoking Avezza's previously conceived plans for resurrection, combined with the refined insights of Promestein and Satanael, Zaorama believed he could orchestrate his own revival after teleporting to safety and voluntarily ending his own existence.

To Zaorama, it was foolproof. There was no need for self-testing, as he had meticulously crafted and tested his method on numerous failed Super Devils over the past year. Each time, it had succeeded flawlessly, alleviating any concerns of potential failure.

Moreover, Zaorama had taken the initiative to enhance his own strength, elevating himself to the status of a Super Devil. Additionally, he had assembled a formidable team of Super Devils at his disposal. His intent was clear: he would employ them both for his defense and to eliminate anyone who dared to obstruct his grand plans.

In addition to his formidable team, Zaorama had another ace up his sleeve—the [Malebranche]. He intended to deploy them strategically to divert the attention of Team [DxD], allowing him the freedom to set his intricate schemes into motion. Furthermore, he was keenly aware of the deep-seated animosity harbored by many members of the True Satans Faction toward the current Satans and, by extension, the Middleman. Hence, he patiently awaited the outcome of their inevitable clash.

As Zaorama contemplated his calculated moves, the door to his office swung open once more, accompanied by the presence of a familiar aura. Turning to face the newcomer, he beheld one of his prized creations—an Artificial Super Devil who held a special place in his esteem.

"Zaorama-sama, I have a request," spoke the female Super Devil with reverence.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "And what might that be, Yuvlunea?" he inquired, curious about the nature of her request.

With a respectful bow, she expressed her desire, "I would like to engage in combat with the current Leviathan. She was responsible for defeating the original Leviathan alongside the Middleman. I wish to test my abilities against her."

Zaorama contemplated her plea, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He recognized the strength of Serafall Leviathan, albeit without a precise measurement of her true power. Nevertheless, it was safe to assume that she might rival Super Devils of the caliber of Ajuka and Sirzechs, or perhaps even surpass them in strength.

Considering this, he hesitated to risk Yuvlunea, who possessed a unique trait cultivated with his guidance. In his estimation, her ability was comparable to Sirzechs Lucifer's mastery over his [Power of Destruction] and rivaled the capabilities of beings like Verrine and Balberith.

After contemplating for a few more moments, he nodded in agreement. "Very well, I'll grant you permission. However, take the Artificial Longinus I had created for you and utilize it to gain an advantage over the Leviathan," he instructed her, to which she promptly concurred.

"Thank you very much!" she exclaimed with enthusiasm before dashing out of the room.

A faint smirk played on his lips as he observed her childlike excitement. For better or worse, all the Artificial Super Devils on his personal team were still in their infancy, having come into existence just a year prior. However, unlike the methods employed by Hades and the rest of the Khaos Order, he had chosen a different approach to nurturing them.

He had taken it upon himself to educate them in the fundamental aspects of their existence. They learned how to harness their demonic powers, how to conduct themselves in the presence of others, and the importance of humility. Zaorama understood that arrogance, particularly in individuals of great power, often proved to be their downfall. He had witnessed this tragic pattern play out countless times during the clashes between other factions within his organization against the Middleman and [DxD].

Zaorama was determined to see his Super Devils reach even greater heights, and prior to Aaron sealing off universal travel, he had dispatched them to the Phantasma and Evie to further enhance their abilities. While the influence of Nyarlathotep's blood was no longer present in them, it hardly mattered. The enhancements they had received from their other allies more than compensated for it in his eyes.

Even if his entire team were to be wiped out in the pursuit of his goals, Zaorama considered it a victory if he could secure both Outer Gods. He was prepared to make the necessary sacrifices to achieve his objectives.

"Just a bit longer," he whispered to himself, a wry smile curling at the corners of his lips, "and we'll be ready to embark on our journey through the vast expanse of the multiverse, fufu."

— ○ ● ○ —

In a different part of Earth, deep within the heart of the [Malebranche] base, numerous members of their organization were bustling with anticipation. They couldn't contain their excitement at the prospect of confronting the wielders of the powerful Longinus Sacred Gears.

In the midst of all the bustling activity, there was one figure who stood out prominently among their ranks. That figure was none other than Ciriatto, renowned and feared by many as the Wild Hog King.

In a dimly lit room harbored an imposing figure—a humanoid hog of remarkable stature and strength. His long, menacing tusks protruded from his lower jaw, adding an air of ferocity to his appearance. Heavily built and adorned in thick, battle-worn armor, the clinks and clatters of metal plates spoke of countless battles endured.

Central to his formidable presence was a distinctive feature: a circular eye embedded in the middle of his chest plate. This unblinking, all-seeing eye hinted at arcane secrets and enhanced his aura of authority. His hooves, sturdy and resilient, marked his terrestrial existence, while piercing yellow eyes gleamed with a calculated intelligence.

Seated upon a rugged chair, he exuded an air of silent anticipation, a sentinel awaiting the arrival of his trusted comrades within the Malebranche ranks. In the midst of shadows and secrets, he embodied the enigmatic force that was the Malebranche.

[Yo! Sorry for the wait~!] another member of the [Malebranche] exclaimed as he strolled into the room. It was none other than Scarmiglione, known far and wide as The Troublemaker, thanks to his mischievous nature.

Scarmiglione, a striking figure in every sense, possessed a cascade of fiery red locks that flowed gracefully down to his waist, a vibrant contrast against his dusky attire. Draped in a black loose jacket adorned with subtle openings that hinted at mysteries beneath, his attire exuded an enigmatic charm.

His sharp, piercing eyes were a striking shade of regal purple, captivating and intense, like the depths of a hidden abyss. Sprouting from his forehead were formidable black horns, which added an air of otherworldly mystique to his countenance.

Below the waist, he donned sleek black pants that emphasized his athletic build, a testament to his physical prowess. Standing tall at an imposing 6'9", Scarmiglione's presence demanded attention and commanded respect. To complete his look, silver earrings adorned his ears, a glinting touch of elegance amid his dark, compelling allure.

[It's rather surprising to find you here ahead of everyone else, Scarmiglione,] Ciriatto remarked, arching an eyebrow at his fellow demon.

Scarmiglione playfully tucked both arms behind his back and chuckled. [Oh, come now, Ciriatto, where's your sense of adventure? Arriving early won't do any harm, will it?] he quipped, though his light-heartedness was met with a stern and silent gaze from Ciriatto.

Before Scarmiglione could offer a response, an imposing aura descended upon them, freezing both beings in their tracks. As the door swung open, a striking figure made their entrance. Their complexion was an unusual interplay of black and white, a stark contrast that lent an otherworldly aura to their presence.

From their shoulders billowed a flowing cape, split evenly into contrasting hues of black and white, which trailed behind them like an ethereal shroud.

White hair cascaded down their back, framing a visage adorned with curious black and white horns that jutted from their forehead. Amidst this stark dichotomy, a small, star-shaped golden symbol gleamed atop their head, a beacon of mysterious significance.

Their most arresting feature, however, was their crimson red eyes, radiating an eerie, mesmerizing glow that seemed to pierce the very soul. Jagged protrusions adorned their form, imbuing them with an unmistakable air of unfaltering authority, an enigmatic figure commanding attention in any room they entered.

Standing before them was the formidable leader of the notorious [Malebranche] faction, none other than Malacoda, the malevolent Evil Tail King himself.

Surveying his surroundings, he inquired with a note of curiosity, [Where is everyone else?]

Scarmiglione, with a touch of apprehension in his voice, replied, [They're still on their way here. Should I urge them to hasten their arrival?]

[Yes,] Malacoda concurred, making his way to his seat and settling into it. As Scarmiglione commenced the formation of various intricate magic circles, he communicated with his comrades in hushed tones. Their leader sat in silence, patiently awaiting the arrival of the rest of the team.

Their gathering, convened to discuss the impending attack, was on the verge of commencing.

— ○ ● ○ —

In one of the clandestine bases belonging to the Khaos Order on Earth, a figure stood before a window adorned with screens, each displaying covertly placed cameras that offered glimpses into the Underworld and various locations within the human realm, with a particular focus on the Vatican.

This enigmatic figure was none other than the original Lucifer himself. His once formidable form had been grievously wounded, both in body and soul, at the hands of Aaron Toole. Since that fateful encounter, he had been engaged in a slow, arduous process of convalescence. A similar plight had befallen the other leader, the original Beelzebub, who found themselves in circumstances that forced them to seek aid from more potent entities.

In their quest for recovery, they had each sought assistance from different quarters: Lucifer had turned to the Phantasma, while Beelzebub had sought the aid of the Evie. Through the benevolence of these superior beings, they had managed to mend their wounds, albeit only to a limited extent. Still, they had emerged from the ordeal with a modest augmentation in their power.

As Lucifer gazed out of the window, his eyes narrowed in disdain at the scene unfolding before him. What he witnessed was none other than the current Four Great Satans actively engaged in a charity fundraiser for a hospital within the Underworld. The sight of such benevolence and altruism from the Devils filled him with an acute sense of revulsion.

In Lucifer's eyes, Devils were meant to embody malevolence and darkness, to wield authority with an iron fist. To observe their successors engaging in acts of kindness and compassion struck a dissonant chord within him. With a disgruntled click of his tongue, he turned away from the disheartening display.

His thoughts drifted toward the elusive figure of the original Satan, whose absence had persisted since their creation. It had fallen to Lucifer and Lilith, the original Beelzebub, to assemble the first generation of Devils in the Underworld in their progenitor's absence. In the initial years following their creation, they had mounted extensive searches in a futile attempt to locate the missing original Satan.

Despite their fruitless efforts, a glimmer of hope persisted among some, including Lucifer himself, that the original Satan might resurface when the time was right. However, Lucifer remained perplexed by the original Satan's refusal to participate in the impending operation. They had believed that their ideals aligned, as the original Satan had once reassured them, but his decision to abstain from their plan left them baffled.

Nonetheless, they had refrained from exerting excessive pressure to change his stance and had continued with their preparations for the impending mission. The final touches had been added just days ago, and their forces were steadily gathering. While they were aware of the overtures from the other two factions, they had opted to disregard them.

Lucifer had devised a plan to inform the other factions of their intent shortly before midnight on the eve of their operation. For the time being, he yearned to address the assembly of Devils, comprising resurrected beings with distinct souls, as well as his fellow Satans.

"With this... everything shall culminate, and we shall forge a new beginning, reclaiming dominion over this tainted Underworld," he declared resolutely before departing from his quarters.

— ○ ● ○ —

In swift fashion, Lucifer descended into a vast hall teeming with a throng of devils. By his side stood the original Beelzebub and Asmodeus, unwavering in their loyalty. The original Leviathan, their counterpart, had already been apprehended along with her followers. Plans were in place to release her once this arduous episode concluded, but her defeat would be etched into her memory.

As Lucifer prepared to address the assembly, Asmodeus leaned in and asked, "Have you prepared a speech?"

Lucifer nodded, his regal demeanor exuding confidence. "Indeed, I have," he replied, his eyes scanning the room. "But first, where are our descendants?"

"They should be among the crowd," Beelzebub responded, his eyes scanning the throng of devils. After a moment, he spotted them and pointed, drawing the attention of both Satans.

Lucifer acknowledged the find with a subtle grunt and made his way to the edge of the platform. As soon as his hands touched the stone balustrade, the bustling hall fell silent. All eyes turned toward their leader, awaiting his words.

"Soon, we will go to war," he began, his voice carrying through the hushed hall. "Some of you will be dispatched to the human world to sow chaos, while the more elite among you will venture into the Underworld, Heaven, and deal with the Middleman, who has been a thorn in our side for far too long."

His gaze swept across the assembled devils, his tone unwavering. "We all share a common goal—to rule this world. Once we have established dominion here, we will expand our influence, conquering other planets and universes in the vast multiverse. As devils, we stand at the pinnacle of all hierarchies. The new Satans of today and the younger generation of devils have disappointed us, but we will rectify that, and it all begins in a few days' time!"

Lucifer's proclamation ignited a thunderous roar from the crowd, the very foundations of the hall trembling with their fervor. These devils were loyal followers of the original Satans, some hailing from the past two generations, discontented with the current Satans' leadership.

"We will have our time!" he declared, sparking another round of cheers and shouts that echoed in his wake as he walked away, his triumphant grin widening.

"You certainly haven't lost your touch," remarked Asmodeus. "Though, I expected a longer speech."

Lucifer shrugged nonchalantly. "This has been a long time coming. I don't need an elaborate speech; all I need is to ignite their fighting spirit, to make them willing to do anything to achieve our goal. I don't care if 90% of them don't make it. All that matters is victory in the end."

With those words, he turned and walked away, his grin growing even more enigmatic.

 — ○ ● ○ —

Aaron Toole's Soliloquy

— ○ ● ○ —

"It's this," Lavinia asserted, her gaze locked onto her friend's eyes.

"No, I'm quite certain it's this," Suzaku replied, her own gaze unwavering as she met Lavinia's stare.

Danu, standing nearby, felt a growing confusion as the tension between her friends escalated. She stammered, "B-but I thought it was this...?"

Velgrynd, the rational voice among them, chimed in, "Why don't we simply employ magic to settle this dispute?"

Rossweisse, nodding in agreement, added, "I concur with Velgrynd-san. It would be the most practical approach."

With only two days remaining until the operation commenced, I found myself in the solitude of my room. My current task was to pore over the exam material, a directive from my avatar, who insisted that studying would help me perform better in the upcoming quizzes. He was adamant about not relying on my powers to cheat, and I had to admit, there was an admirable quality in that decision.

Well, it wouldn't really matter, as I can essentially remember anything after just one glance at it. This ability would certainly make things easier. Besides, I'm not the one taking the test; it falls on him to do so on the day of the operation.

I stole a quick glance at the girls who had come with me, the Fated Ones along with Mom and Aoife. They were engrossed in a game, though I had no idea what the game was. It was clear, however, that tensions were rising between Suzaku and Lavinia, as they held opposing opinions about it.

Danu tried to mediate between them, while Rose and Velgrynd appeared to be the voices of reason. From a mere glance, it was evident that Velgrynd sided with Suzaku, while Rose sided with Lavinia. If they were to express their true feelings, it would only add to the complexity of the situation.

Just as I was about to address the group and attempt to defuse the situation, the door to my office was forcefully slammed open, causing all of us to turn our attention toward it. In the doorway stood Kuroka.

"Aaron, nya! Come with me!" she exclaimed, before quickly scurrying toward me and grabbing my wrist, pulling me away. Surprisingly, the others merely waved at me and continued their game, with the exception of Aoife, who decided to join us.

"What's up, Kuroka?" I inquired, curious about her excitement.

"Rias, I found time to talk to her, and Shirone is over there, so we can ask them now!" Kuroka exclaimed, her enthusiasm palpable.

I remembered the matter at hand. Kuroka had been trying to broach this topic with Rias for the past few days, but Rias had always been too exhausted after her rigorous training sessions, leaving no room for discussion. However, today was different; Rias had mentioned taking the day off since some of her team members would be involved in an operation in a few days.

Together, we entered the entertainment room. A few people were present, but Rias and Shirone were waiting in one corner, offering snacks and drinks. We swiftly made our way over, settling into the available chairs.

"So, Kuroka, you've been wanting to talk to me about something for the past few days?" Rias inquired, her attention focused on Kuroka.

"Yeah, that's right, nya! So—" Kuroka proceeded to relay the information I had shared with her a few days earlier. Rias and Shirone listened intently, their expressions growing more serious as Kuroka delved into the details that concerned them directly.

As Kuroka finished explaining, Rias wore a frown, clearly deep in thought. Shirone, on the other hand, appeared visibly taken aback by the revelation.

"So... that's why I want to participate in this operation with Shirone. I understand it might not be a big deal for us, but I believe it would provide a sense of closure regarding that part of our lives. What do you both think, nya?" Kuroka asked, addressing both Rias and Shirone.

As Rias pondered the situation, she stole a brief glance in my direction. I conveyed my thoughts to her telepathically, emphasizing that the decision rested with her and that I wouldn't make it for her. This unexpected communication seemed to surprise her initially, but eventually, she offered a smile and nodded in response.

Meanwhile, Aoife fixed her gaze on me and playfully poked my cheek with her finger. I turned to acknowledge her, and she extended a potato chip toward me. I accepted the chip and opened my mouth to take a bite. Noticing this exchange, Kuroka decided to join in on the fun. She started poking my cheek with another potato chip while emitting a chorus of 'nyas.'

Not wanting to be left out of the amusing spectacle, Shirone approached us and settled herself comfortably on my lap. She followed suit by poking my cheek with a potato chip. In the midst of all this, Rias couldn't help but feel a bit distracted as she watched the peculiar scene unfold. She seemed to be experiencing a mixture of stress and a sense of exclusion. However, she quickly shook her head, dismissing the oddity before her.

After a moment of contemplation, she mumbled, "Let's see... Ultimately, it's Shirone's decision, isn't it? Whatever choice she makes, I, as her [King], will fully support it. She—along with everyone else on my team and in my peerage—is strong, so I have no qualms about her participating."

With her words hanging in the air, we all directed our attention to Shirone, who sat on my lap. She picked up a few potato chips, nibbling on them as she contemplated the situation. To offer her some comfort, I gently stroked her head and occasionally planted soft kisses on the back of her head.

After a thoughtful pause, Shirone finally turned her gaze toward Kuroka and declared, "Mmm. I want to go. Let's beat him up."

"Shiiironeee~!" Kuroka exclaimed, her voice full of affection, and she immediately enveloped her sister in a tight hug. In turn, Kuroka extended her embrace to include me, as Shirone was still seated on my lap.

"But make sure you stay safe, okay? Even though I know you can handle most adversaries in our universe," Rias emphasized, her concern evident. "As your [King], an older sister figure, and someone who genuinely cares about you, please don't overexert yourself."

Shirone nodded in agreement, acknowledging Rias's words. Kuroka chimed in, expressing her commitment to protect Shirone as if her life depended on it—a promise she had been faithfully keeping on a near-daily basis.

With these concerns addressed, the atmosphere lightened, and we decided to spend some quality time in the entertainment room. Kuroka's anxieties had been resolved, allowing her to relax in the lead-up to the operation. However, beneath that sense of relief, there was also a palpable excitement, as both Kuroka and Shirone were about to put a significant part of their past behind them.

— ○ ● ○ —

Later that night, as I prepared to retire to my bed, an unusual disturbance in the vicinity of Kuoh piqued my curiosity. I promptly made my way to the scene, and to my surprise, I wasn't the only one who arrived swiftly; Lianne and the Stahlritter were already present when I reached the location.

"Hmm? This is…" I mumbled, my eyes fixed on an unexpected sight before us—a frog youkai, battered and bleeding profusely, lay in front of us. Without hesitation, I knelt down and employed my rapid healing abilities to tend to its wounds.

The frog youkai's eyes flew open, and upon spotting us, he urgently stammered, "T-this! They wanted to give you this!" With trembling hands, he handed us a letter and then hastily scurried away, his eyes filled with sheer horror. Intrigued and somewhat concerned, all of us eagerly turned our attention to the letter, which I opened with haste.

"The nerve!" Duvalie's voice dripped with venom as she reacted to its contents. Ennea and Ines echoed her sentiments, but Lianne and I merely cast cold glares at the letter's vile message.

In essence, the message was a threat, a not-so-unusual occurrence for me. However, what set this apart was its origin—it bore the unmistakable demonic energy of the original Satan Lucifer. In addition to threatening me, it also targeted my mother and Aoife. Oddly enough, they omitted Cindy, perhaps perceiving her as too formidable to engage. Regardless of their reasoning, the revelation incensed me. While I recognized it as bait, there was also a disconcerting kernel of truth buried within it.

I crushed the letter in my hand and dispelled it with a flicker of fire magic. An ominous aura enveloped me as I clenched my fists. "Heh, I won't play into your games, Lucifer, but I'll make you pay for threatening to take those two away from me."

"Aaron…" Lianne mumbled, a hint of worry in her voice.

"I'm fine; I won't do anything rash. When the time comes, I'll make his life a living nightmare. However, I won't be the one to finish it. Scathach and Aoife will be the ones to bring down the leaders of the True Satan Faction," I reassured her, offering a reassuring smile.

Relief washed over her, while Duvalie simply rolled her eyes in response. Ignoring her peculiar attitude toward me, I began to walk back, with my comrades joining me. I decided to leave the remainder of the night watch to the Shadow Soldiers.

— ○ ● ○ —

The day of the operation had finally arrived, and all the participants had gathered at their designated locations. This endeavor would also have repercussions in the human world, so I had prepared a spell that would transport the humans to a different realm and put them into a slumber.

However, I had refrained from enacting it, fearing that the enemy might alter their plans. So, I played a small game with the lives of these humans, which left a twinge of guilt in my conscience. But ultimately, they would remain untouched by these events, so it should be acceptable.

Currently, I found myself above Russia, or more accurately, floating in the skies above the entire country. Only the Fated Ones had insisted on joining me, while Aoife had chosen to defend Ireland alongside Cindy and Mom. Still, owing to the threats we had received the previous night, I had assigned two of my [Electa] to accompany them. All in all, they should be safe.

A gentle tug on my sleeve pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Zorya standing there. The Personification of Dawn held a futuristic-looking firearm in one hand and looked at me expectantly, her gaze shifting around as if she didn't want the others to overhear our conversation.

"Did you need something, Zorya?" I inquired. She scanned our surroundings, her cheeks slightly flushed. Whatever she had in mind, she wanted to keep it hidden from the prying eyes of the Fated Ones.

After one more cautious glance around, I quietly murmured, "It's starting." At my signal, the entire world seemed to tremble, but in reality, it was only Russia and a few other nations that were the intended targets. However, I soon realized that I had underestimated the scope of their attack or perhaps they had altered their plans at the last minute, as it appeared that more countries were now in their crosshairs.

Lavinia voiced her concerns, "There are more countries being affected, Aaron. What should we do?"

Flying over to her, I ruffled her hair and snapped my fingers. "Don't worry. I'll include everyone else in the world and transport them to a separate dimension beyond the reach of the Khaos Order. Nevertheless, it seems like the battlefield is once again the entire Earth."

This realization stirred up unpleasant memories, causing a frown to crease my brow. I reached for the transceiver in my ear and relayed the change in plans and the actions of the Khaos Order to our team. They swiftly adapted, and we could proceed with our mission.

[Alright... let's initiate this operation. When it comes to the individuals I informed you about, do not kill them. Instead, capture them. The others have no purpose and can be eliminated,] I instructed the team.

With a snap of my fingers, I compelled every human on Earth to drift into slumber, transporting them to an alternate dimension. Once the task was completed, I raised my arm, enveloping it in a shimmering silvery-white aura.

"Let's add an extra layer of challenge today, shall we?" I mused, a mischievous grin forming. The silvery-white aura surged into the sky, extending until it halted just above our planet, suspended in the vastness of space.

This aura rapidly expanded, encircling the entire globe. Following this, I activated an effect that would target all the members of the Khaos Order. The effects were relatively straightforward: a 50% reduction in their overall 'stats' coupled with heightened paranoia and anxiety. Such alterations would undoubtedly lead to numerous mistakes in their battles, compelling them to make unwise decisions.

"What have you done?" Velgrynd inquired, her curiosity piqued.

Casting a quick glance at Velgrynd, I offered a succinct summary of my actions. She responded with a sigh, and although I shot her an inquisitive look, she merely shook her head.

"Zorya and I will protect Russia. Can the rest of you assist the neighboring countries since they apparently altered their plans last minute?" I requested, and they promptly agreed, each of them teleporting away to address the issues in their respective regions.

I shifted my focus to Zorya, who appeared genuinely thrilled. "The rest of the Slavic Pantheon will be joining us, so don't overexert yourself, all right?"

She nodded wordlessly, her futuristic firearm pointed forward. As I turned back around, I witnessed various adversaries materializing all around us. Some had already commenced their attacks on towns and cities within the country. However, it was evident that a few of them were baffled because there were no humans to be found.

Zorya squeezed the trigger of her weapon, unleashing a torrent of black and white aura that decimated the foes before us. Among them were devils of various types—purebloods, hybrids, and artificial devils. Yet, none of them stood a chance against Zorya's onslaught. The only reason some managed to survive was due to sheer luck or not being in the direct path of her attack.

"...Are we sure we can take them?" inquired a devil, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Like we have a choice. If we run away or abandon our mission, our leaders will have us killed," replied another devil.

After hearing his words, the group of devils nodded in unison and then, as if resigned to their fate, they charged towards us. Their battle cries filled the air, echoing with a sense of desperation. I couldn't help but admire their bravery, even if it seemed foolish to press on in the face of such overwhelming odds.

However, there was an underlying sense of pity, for they had been forced into this situation with no real alternatives, their fate sealed regardless of the path they chose, especially after witnessing Zorya's formidable power.

I enveloped my body in a protective aura and declared, "Very well, then. Bring it on. I'll ensure that you all get a chance at reincarnation in another world."

— ○ ● ○ —

Third Person Point of View

— ○ ● ○ —

In the Underworld, nothing less than a full-scale war had erupted. For the devils who had endured an exhausting and tumultuous past year, this was the last thing they would have wished for. However, thanks to Aaron's prior warning, the majority of devils had already taken refuge in designated buildings, fortified with powerful barriers to shield them from the impending conflict.

Devils that ranged from Low- to Middle-class had taken up to arms to join the army that the Satans had built. With Falbium leading them, the casualties had been close to zero so far. However, the difference in strength was palpable, but with the help of the Satan, the soldiers were reassured.

They also had different help in the form of Shadow Soldiers all around them. If any of the Low- to Middle-class devils made a mistake, or if their lives were in any danger, the Shadow Soldiers stepped in and saved them.

Aaron Toole wanted no deaths on his side after today and he would make sure that it came true. On another side of Lilith, the current capital of the Underworld, Sairaorg Bael's peerage faced off against various High- to Ultimate-class devils that were enchanted by the Khaos Order.

However, most of them didn't have a good grasp in their new power, so they were quickly dealt with by his peerage. Among these devils were three that were competent—these three faces off against Kuisha, Regulus and Sairaorg himself.

"So you're the heir to the Great King Bael? I don't even sense any demonic power in you! Have the modern devils gone mad!?" asked the Ultimate-class devil.

The male devil possessed an aura of dark charisma, his appearance striking and enigmatic. His ebony hair was cropped short, framing a face that exuded an air of sinister allure. The most arresting feature lay in his eyes: one gleamed with a fiery, molten gold, while the other shimmered with an ethereal silver, a mesmerizing duality that hinted at his enigmatic nature.

Clad in opulent noble attire, he wore garments befitting royalty. His attire, a blend of deep crimson and midnight black, bore intricate details and fine fabrics that bespoke wealth and sophistication. A silvered brooch adorned his impeccably tailored coat, and a velvet cravat accentuated his aristocratic bearing.

Yet, it was his attitude that truly set him apart. Arrogance oozed from his every gesture and word, an unapologetic confidence that dared the world to challenge his presence. In his haughty demeanor, he embodied the very essence of a devil, a formidable and captivating force of darkness.

"One can train to increase their power," Sairaorg responded, his voice firm, his eyes locked onto the devil confronting him. "You see, I was born without demonic power, but I've transformed this very body into a vessel of destruction itself."

The male devil erupted into mocking laughter upon hearing Sairaorg's audacious claim. "Turn your body into destruction itself? You, who inherited no power, dare to make such grandiose statements? You must be mad. Nevertheless, your impending demise is imminent. I shall kill you now and take responsibility for claiming the head of the Great King's heir."

This male devil possessed not only an inflated ego but also a pureblood heritage, hailing from one of the original 72 pillars. His name was Zake Valac. Driven by dissatisfaction with the current Great Satans and their policies, he abandoned his noble lineage to join a notorious terrorist group.

Zake had been born with High-class status and High-class power, attributes he had wielded to torment other devils mercilessly, isolating himself further from his kin. As he matured, he renounced his noble bloodline, subjecting himself to numerous experimental procedures that ultimately propelled him into the realm of Ultimate-class power.

With a flourish of dark energy enveloping his hands, he hurled it toward Sairaorg. Yet, Sairaorg effortlessly sidestepped the attack, his movements unhurried. Annoyance creased Zake's brow, and he continued his reckless charge, eventually standing face-to-face with Sairaorg. Summoning all his might, he aimed a full-powered punch at Bael's face, convinced of his impending victory. Sairaorg, however, made no effort to evade, choosing instead to accept the strike head-on.

A thunderous explosion reverberated through the vicinity, and Zake couldn't contain his own laughter. "You utter fool! Hyahaha! Why didn't you dodge?! Has the new generation of devils grown so dimwitted!?"

But as the lingering smoke dispersed, Zake found himself paralyzed by astonishment. Sairaorg stood unscathed, his expression unwavering, and he silently drew back his right arm. Around his right fist, a pulsating aura of purple touki gathered, a tangible manifestation of his immense power. Fear seized Zake, rendering him incapable of retreating. His arrogance had blinded him to the profound realities of the supernatural world, dismissing reports and warnings from his fellow faction members about Sairaorg's newfound strength.

Now, reality confronted him, and terror held him captive. A swift flood of memories washed over him, and though he attempted to scream, his voice remained inaudible. With unyielding resolve, Sairaorg unleashed his punch, striking Zake squarely in the chest.

In an instant, Zake's body erupted into a gruesome explosion, splattering blood and entrails across the surroundings, rendering everything a grotesque shade of crimson. The surviving members of the True Satans Faction stood aghast, their fear intensifying as they grasped the gruesome end that had befallen Zake, once regarded as one of their most formidable fighters.

"Hah! What a weakling!" Another Ultimate devil's mocking voice rang through the battlefield, directed at Zake's humiliating defeat. This devil, a female, stood in Regulus's path, her sinister laughter echoing in the tense atmosphere.

Before Regulus stood a female devil, a striking embodiment of darkness and allure. Her long, sinuous tresses flowed like molten gold, framing a pair of wickedly curved, goat-like horns that crowned her head with an air of malevolence. Sharp, crimson eyes pierced the very soul of anyone who dared to meet her gaze, hinting at a profound maleficence beneath the surface.

Cloaked in a form-fitting black dress, she exuded an aura of seduction and danger. The dress boasted an open back, a tantalizing invitation to the mysteries that lay beneath. With every step in her sleek black heels, she commanded attention and exuded a palpable arrogance that dwarfed even Zake's.

In her presence, darkness and temptation mingled seamlessly, a potent cocktail of allure and treachery that left males in the vicinity both entranced and wary.

"Why mock him when he's your comrade?" questioned Regulus, his voice calm amidst the tension.

"Comrade? In our faction, it's survival of the fittest," she hissed with a derisive sneer. "He was clearly too weak to face that devil in front of him. If he and these useless fools can't get the job done, then I will," she declared, her resolve unwavering as she unleashed a barrage of demonic bullets aimed at Regulus.

With swiftness born of experience, Regulus danced through the air, gracefully evading each projectile. He landed lithely but wasted no time, using his superior speed to reappear right in front of her. Before the female devil could muster a defense, Regulus delivered a powerful headbutt to her face, sending her hurtling through several buildings with a deafening crash.

In the blink of an eye, the young man leaped after her, landing a few feet away from the fallen female devil. While she hadn't taken extensive damage, her face bore the marks of their brutal encounter, with blood trickling from her broken nose. Fury contorted her features as she clutched her injured face.

"How dare you do this to me!?" she screamed at Regulus, her voice laced with anger and defiance, but Regulus remained silent, his expression inscrutable and his emotions concealed behind a mask of indifference.

Regulus furrowed his brows, his eyes locking onto the devil who stood before him with arrogance etched across her face. He had to admit, he didn't quite understand her motivations. "Why do you do this? Is it because you want to be the rulers of the world? What would that accomplish?" he inquired, hoping to gain some insight into her twisted ideology.

She responded with a dismissive scoff, her tone dripping with condescension. "Are you so stupid that you need me to explain it? However, it makes sense since you're a reincarnated devil, so allow me, Nephralia, to elaborate for you. We, as devils, stand at the pinnacle of any race, and that's all the reason we need. Humans are prey, they are weak and feeble, so who cares about them?"

Regulus's frown deepened as he listened to Nephralia's callous words. He had been indifferent toward humans for most of his existence. That was until he became a Sacred Gear and began to change. Although it was only a gradual shift, he started to see different facets of humanity whenever his wielders awakened him.

Some of them were indeed horrible people who had nothing more than violence and chaos on their minds. They treated him as a mere tool to further their destructive ends. But others, kinder souls, treated him as a sentient being with feelings. Regulus couldn't help but be moved by their compassion.

His most recent wielder, a devil with no innate demonic power, had treated him with the utmost respect and dignity. In the company of this master, Regulus had found comrades among humans, many of whom treated him kindly. It was a reminder of the goodness that resided within humanity, even though they lacked the sheer power of devils.

So, as of that very moment, Regulus couldn't help but feel anger and frustration at Nephralia's dismissive opinion of humans. For a species that wasn't as inherently powerful, they held an abundance of goodness and kindness within them. Regulus had developed a deep appreciation for these qualities, and he was determined to continue experiencing the best that humanity had to offer.

"I see. So there's no reasoning with you... so be it," he declared before launching himself toward Nephralia. The female devil, not one to be outdone, sported a wicked grin and summoned whips forged from her malevolent demonic energy. With a menacing flourish, she cracked the whips in Regulus's direction.

The Sacred Gear, however, exhibited unparalleled defense as it enveloped Regulus's body in a potent touki aura. The whips met their demise as he casually slapped them away, an air of indifference in his every move. The sight left Nephralia dumbfounded, her confidence swiftly giving way to a mix of rage and frustration.

Undeterred by her futile attempts, she fired off a barrage of demonic attacks, each one more desperate than the last. Regulus, as if swatting aside mere cotton balls, effortlessly brushed them aside, his unyielding focus on Nephralia.

In a matter of moments, he closed the gap between them, arriving right in front of Nephralia. In a futile display of defiance, she attempted to land a punch on him, but it was child's play for him to catch her fist in his iron grip. They locked eyes for a few seconds, the tension in the air palpable.

"Repent after your reincarnation—if Jin-sama allows it," Regulus coldly intoned before delivering a devastating punch directly into Nephralia's stomach. The impact tore a gaping hole through her body, and it took her a few agonizing seconds to fully comprehend the extent of her injuries.

Nephralia's gaze dropped to Regulus's arm, the very appendage that had punctured her. Her anguished scream filled the air as blood seeped from her mouth, and she made a futile attempt to sink her teeth into him. Yet, his impenetrable touki shielded him from her last-ditch attack.

"Detestable to the end," Regulus murmured with a hint of regret, his voice barely above a whisper. He opened his mouth and conjured a luminous golden orb of energy. With a swift motion, he unleashed it at point-blank range, striking Nephralia's head and ending her life in an instant.

Nephralia, while undoubtedly an Ultimate-class devil, carried an intriguing aspect to her existence—she was an artificial devil, a creation birthed from the remains of Lilith's body before her soul embarked on its voyage to inhabit a new vessel. It was this distinct origin story that set her apart in the devil hierarchy. While she couldn't boast of unique abilities or talents, her sheer raw power was undeniable, making her a potential asset to whichever faction she chose to align with.

Despite her formidable status, Nephralia remained largely inconspicuous, overshadowed by other, more naturally-born high-ranking devils. This relegation to the shadows ultimately led her to switch allegiances, opting for the True Satans Faction over staying with Hades, where her prowess would be better appreciated, or so she hoped.

Yet, Nephralia's transition did little to alter her status in the devil hierarchy. The world still turned as it had before, with other Ultimate-class devils occupying similar positions of relative obscurity. Beyond them, an army of Satan-class devils marched on, and beyond them, in the echelons that commanded awe and reverence, resided the God-class and higher. The hierarchy was vast and unforgiving, with recognition and praise reserved for those who ascended beyond the ordinary.

In the end, Nephralia met her demise with a heavy heart, bearing the weight of her bitter resentments and unfulfilled aspirations. Her life, marred by the indifference of a world obsessed with power and hierarchy, had left her with a trail of regrets that echoed through the void of her existence.

[This is Regulus, I've disposed of the second Ultimate-class devil here,] he said through his transceiver.

[Roger, proceed to Sairaorg-sama and eliminate the rest on this side of the capital,] replied a feminine through it. This was one of Aaron's [Electa], part of the G.o.B, Claudira. She had joined the devils of the Underworld to help defend their realm.

— ○ ● ○ —

The last Ultimate-class devil that was in that group faced off against Kuisha. Unlike the other two this one was a little bit more humble, however, they still looked down on others that were much weaker than them—their online criteria for gaining respect was to be powerful.

The devil known as Archania stood in front of Kuisha. A striking figure, she defied the traditional image of malevolence with her long, cascading pink locks that trailed all the way down to her legs. Her piercing green eyes, like emeralds in the dark, held an enigmatic allure, hinting at untold secrets within.

Standing at an imposing height of 6'1", she towered above most women and exuded an air of unwavering confidence that was impossible to ignore. Archania carried herself with regal poise, a ruler in her own right within the netherworld.

What truly set her apart, however, was the resplendent sapphire-blue armor that adorned her formidable frame. Demonic sigils and intricate circles were etched into the armor's surface, emitting an eerie, otherworldly glow. The armor glistened with an unsettling beauty, a testament to Archania's formidable power.

"Why don't you join us, Kuisha Abaddon, was it?" inquired Archania. "You were abandoned by those devils. Do you not harbor any resentment towards them? With your extraordinary powers, you could easily overthrow the Underworld with our assistance. Together, we could rule the world."

Kuisha paused, considering Archania's words. "Truthfully," she began, "I might have entertained your offer if you had found me before Sairaorg-sama or before I found new friends and comrades." She looked resolute as she continued, "But things have changed. Even though there are still nobles and older devils who resist change in the Underworld, what Sirzechs Lucifer-sama and Jin are doing is significant. They are bringing about change. So, I must decline your offer."

Archania's face contorted into a frown, and she let out a sigh of resignation. "Very well, if that is your decision, then so be it. Our conversation ends here," she declared, her body enveloped in a shimmering green demonic aura.

Kuisha and Archania both enveloped their bodies with a dense shroud of demonic aura as they soared toward each other, their collision sending shockwaves that reverberated throughout the vicinity. The very ground quaked under the immense force of their clash, and nearby buildings crumbled in response. The protective barrier shielding the Underworld itself seemed to waver, its stability compromised by the sheer intensity of their battle.

Inside the tumultuous fray, Claudira's voice resonated in Kuisha's thoughts, offering tactical advice and urging restraint. [Kuisha-sama, I'd advise you to exercise more control and, if possible, conclude the fight swiftly. None of the devils you're currently engaged with are of utmost importance. The others are nearly finished as well, and we can proceed to another area.]

Kuisha acknowledged the counsel with a determined [Roger that,] her resolve unshaken. She materialized behind Archania in a sudden burst of speed, firing a point-blank, devastating demonic shot into her adversary's back, sending her crashing to the ground. Despite the bewildering surge in power, Archania showed resilience, her determination unwavering.

Archania swiftly recovered from the impact, methodically clearing debris and summoning verdant demonic wings from her back as she propelled herself toward Kuisha with increased velocity. A barrage of ferocious demonic bullets shot forth from her, but Kuisha expertly harnessed her [Hole] ability to absorb and nullify each attack. Without hesitation, she conjured multiple [Holes] surrounding Archania, redirecting her own attacks back at her.

Although Archania was well-versed in the abilities of Kuisha's clan, she faltered in reacting promptly and found herself struck by her own attacks, inflicting grievous injuries upon herself. She tumbled back to the earth, careening into a building upon impact.

Kuisha did not grant her adversary any respite, amassing an immense reservoir of demonic energy above her. After a brief charge, she released the potent energy below her, directing it toward the structure that held the battered Archania. The resulting explosion was titanic, consuming everything in its fiery embrace.

As the dust and debris settled, Kuisha was taken aback to see Archania still clinging to life. However, her condition had deteriorated significantly, and it appeared as though she teetered on the precipice of death. She stood unsteadily, gasping for breath, her injuries severe and life hanging by a thread.

As Archania's life slowly dwindled, she summoned the last of her strength to raise her right arm in a defiant gesture. Kuisha, hovering above her, knew she had the upper hand and decided to finish it. She conjured a single demonic ball, a colossal orb fifty times the size of a typical one. As it hurtled downward, it resembled more of a meteor on a collision course with Archania.

A triumphant smile crept onto Archania's face, a strange sense of serenity overtaking her. She gathered her remaining energy to conjure a small, feeble [Hole] just in front of her. The sudden appearance of this rift shocked Kuisha, freezing her in place for a split second. Before Kuisha could utter a word, her gargantuan attack crashed into Archania's body, resulting in a massive explosion that engulfed the entire vicinity, obliterating everything beneath her.

Shock still gripped Kuisha as she muttered, her voice trembling, "S-she was an Abaddon...? How? I-I never heard of her..."

The power that Archania had unleashed in her final moments was a clan trait inherited from the Abaddon house of devils. She, like Kuisha, had been exiled from the clan, albeit for different reasons. Archania's status as a hybrid, born to a human mother and a male devil, was the primary cause of her exile. Her already low demonic power further contributed to her abandonment by the clan, as she was deemed unworthy.

After her exile, Archania sought to reunite with her human mother, only to discover that she had met a tragic end. She suspected that the devils of Abaddon had been responsible for her mother's death. Left to fend for herself, Archania witnessed the cruelties of both the human and supernatural worlds, prompting her to embark on a path of self-improvement. She grew stronger, eventually reaching High-class status, a significant achievement for her.

However, her life took a drastic turn when she joined the Khaos Order, subjecting herself to experiments that boosted her power to Ultimate-class. This transformation brought about a newfound arrogance within her, ironically leading her to look down upon those she considered weak—much like her own family had done when she was younger.

Learning of Kuisha's existence, Archania had hoped to face her, maybe even persuade her to change sides. Their life paths had nearly mirrored each other at some points, but eventually, Kuisha had chosen a different route. While Archania had embraced what she considered the "dark" path, Kuisha had embraced righteousness. It was a small attempt to connect with her, to reveal their shared Abaddon heritage, even if Archania had refused to acknowledge that lineage until the very end of her life.

"Archania Abaddon," she muttered to herself, her gaze lingering on the empty space where her fellow Abaddon had just been. "I'll have to ask Aaron about it; perhaps he can provide some insight." With that, she turned away and made her way to meet up with her team.

— ○ ● ○ —

"Yuvlunea-chan, right? Did you want to become a magical girl too!? I'm looking for new actors for a new season!" Serafall exclaimed, pointing her wand at the woman in front of her. "And you look great, the fans will love it!"

Yuvlunea, with an air of mysterious elegance, stood before Serafall Leviathan. Her jet-black tresses cascaded gracefully down her back, framing her delicate features. Perched atop her head, rabbit ears, matching the dark hue of her hair, added a unique charm to her appearance. Two delicate roses adorned her hair, serving as exquisite accessories.

Her gaze, an intense and captivating shade of crimson red, held an allure that was impossible to ignore. Yuvlunea's attire was nothing short of enchanting. She wore a black and white frilly dress that flowed around her like a dark ethereal cloud, accentuated by a striking red ribbon gracing her neck.

Draped around her neck, a giant necklace with a clock as its pendant hung like a symbol of timeless beauty. Completing her ensemble, she donned black tights that accentuated her slender legs and black heels, adding an element of sophistication to her overall allure. In her presence, there was an undeniable blend of mystery and allure that left an indelible impression.

A smile graced her lips as she delicately picked up the dress and offered a courteous bow, her rabbit ears cutely twitching. "Thank you very much, Serafall Leviathan-sama. However, for the time being, I must decline because I am here for a specific reason," Yuvlunea replied.

"Oh? And what would that reason be, Yuvlunea-chan?" inquired Serafall, her interest now piqued.

"I wish to challenge you to a fight. Ever since I laid eyes on you, I've been captivated by your appearance and carefree nature. In all honesty, I would like to join your peerage if it's possible," she confided, leaving Serafall astonished. "Zaorama-sama may not be aware of this, but among the Artificial Super Devils on his special team, I'm the only one who shares these sentiments. I yearn to break free from his grasp, as it feels quite suffocating."

Serafall studied Yuvlunea intently, attempting to discern any deceit in her words. After a few seconds, she concluded that Yuvlunea was sincere and not attempting to deceive her. A warm smile spread across the Leviathan's face as she pointed at Yuvlunea.

"If that's the case, we'll determine your fit after our duel! I accept your challenge wholeheartedly! However, if you plan to defect, let's make it appear convincing. Don't hold back on me! My fiancé will undoubtedly take action on this matter, as he harbors no fondness for Zaorama Nebiros!" declared Serafall with conviction.

"Thank you very much!" Yuvlunea bowed gracefully, her movements fluid and practiced. She then summoned a grimoire, which materialized along with an array of various arcane cards swirling around her. Each card radiated a faint, mystical glow that played across her face. She cast a warm smile at the formidable Satan Leviathan standing before her. "I'm fully prepared for this challenge!"

Serafall's eyes lit up with anticipation, and her own aura, a shimmering manifestation of her demonic power, enveloped her. She raised her wand with a flourish, its tip gleaming with demonic energy. Thousands of razor-sharp icicles materialized around her, creating a breathtaking spectacle of glimmering, frosty beauty.

"Such a fascinating display!" Serafall exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Let's fighto~!"

Both of them unleashed their attacks simultaneously. Serafall's icicles soared towards Yuvlunea, and the devil with rabbit ears gestured with her hand, causing the arcane cards around her to fly towards the incoming icicles. As they closed in, she employed duplication magic on the cards to match Serafall's number of icicles.

An explosion erupted in the middle of their magical clash. As it unfolded, Yuvlunea conjured flaming hounds with her grimoire and commanded them to assail Serafall. The fiery canines burst through the smoke of the explosion and lunged at the magical girl.

Serafall avoided the flaming hounds with effortless grace, moving as if she were dancing through the chaos. She also deftly smacked them away with her magical wand. If there were onlookers present at that moment, they would have believed they were witnessing a scene from a surreal movie.

"Naughty puppies!" exclaimed Serafall, her voice filled with amusement and a touch of annoyance. With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed another round of icicles towards the flaming hounds, swiftly dispatching them in a mesmerizing display of power.

Turning her attention back to the looming threat, Serafall watched as more arcane cards came hurtling her way. As they encircled her, a cacophony of effects erupted almost simultaneously.

One of the cards exploded in a shower of sparks, conjuring a mischievous leprechaun who burst into a lively song and dance before unveiling a peculiar machine gun that fired bullets made of pure gold. The glittering projectiles sped toward her with dazzling speed.

Another card burst into a puff of smoke, conjuring miniature tornadoes imbued with various elemental powers. These whimsical tempests charged at her with relentless vigor. Lastly, two of the cards transformed into colossal serpents that unleashed venomous breath attacks, the very air crackling with their toxic intent.

Serafall couldn't help but utter a breathless "Wow!" as she beheld this mesmerizing spectacle of magical chaos unfolding before her. It was a dizzying display of creativity and power. She swiftly adapted to the rapidly changing battlefield, unleashing her own formidable abilities to counter the arcane onslaught.

A shimmering aura of protection enveloped her, a radiant shield that deflected the attacks aimed her way. With a graceful flourish of her hand, she enhanced her speed, moving with an almost ethereal swiftness. Her response was as swift as it was precise, a testament to her mastery of her demonic power.

In one fluid motion, Serafall conjured an elegant ice sword, its crystalline blade gleaming with an otherworldly light. With a graceful strike, she sliced through the colossal serpents, shattering them into icy fragments.

The miniature tornadoes, filled with elemental fury, met their end with a single, playful magical girl punch, their turbulent forces quelled in an instant. And as for the mischievous leprechaun, she froze him in place with a mischievous grin before commanding her flying ice sword to gracefully and swiftly end his merry performance.

With the battlefield now clear of these fanciful conjurations, Serafall stood poised and ready, her icy presence undiminished. Her heart raced with exhilaration, for even amidst the chaos, she found herself reveling in the magical dance of combat.

A smile gracefully adorned Yuvlunea's lips as she commented, "As expected of a Satan, my attacks almost seemed meaningless in front of you."

"Fufu, you flatter me, Lunea-chan~ Now then, let's continue~!" exclaimed the Satan Leviathan with her characteristic cheerfulness.

Yuvlunea readily agreed and swiftly materialized in front of her opponent. The young Artificial Super Devil had chosen to initiate a close-quarters combat duel, a challenge that Serafall welcomed with enthusiasm. She adeptly deflected the flurry of punches sent her way by the rabbit-eared devil.

Each strike that Yuvlunea launched towards her possessed precision and lethal intent. Reflecting on the situation, Serafall couldn't help but marvel at the growth and prowess of the young devil. Had she faced Yuvlunea just a year ago, she wasn't sure if she would have been able to hold her ground as she did now. Even at this moment, Serafall found herself deeply impressed by Yuvlunea's combat skills, comparing her attacks to those of a seasoned martial artist.

Yuvlunea unleashed a powerful right hook at Serafall, who skillfully deflected it. However, to her surprise, it turned out to be a faint, and before she could react, Yuvlunea had already begun to throw an uppercut with her left arm. Quick as lightning, Serafall caught her opponent's fist, creating a small shockwave in the process. The rabbit-eared devil couldn't help but smile, genuinely astonished by the incredible swiftness of the Satan Leviathan.

While Yuvlunea was indeed an Artificial Super Devil, she had received additional enchantments from Zaorama himself after witnessing the astounding powers of the two rabbit goddesses during the tournament. In an odd and somewhat unsettling manner, Zaorama had developed an obsession with them, entertaining thoughts of kidnapping them, yet he had never found the right opportunity.

Following this brief exchange, both combatants shared a moment of mutual acknowledgment, smiling at each other before vanishing into thin air. They reappeared at various points across Lilith, their fists and legs clashing in a series of rapid-fire exchanges that sent shockwaves rippling through the surroundings.

With each teleportation, the shockwaves they generated wreaked havoc, demolishing buildings and, at times, unintentionally injuring or even killing the devils who had chosen to join this ferocious battle.

Out of the Artificial Super Devils created by Zaorama, only two had ventured into the Underworld. In anticipation of the upcoming event, another devil had approached Zaorama with a request to face Sirzechs Lucifer himself. Zaorama, aware of the futility of such a challenge, surprisingly agreed, setting the stage for an ultimately fruitless endeavor.

After another intense clash, both women found themselves propelled away by the force of their attacks. They were now resorting to the use of their demonic powers. Yuvlunea unleashed a barrage of arcane cards towards Serafall. Each card transformed into a razor-winged fish and swiftly darted towards the Satan Leviathan, aiming to cut her down.

Serafall effortlessly evaded the oncoming assault and, with a graceful wave of her hand, encased the airborne fish in her demonic ice. In the blink of an eye, her ice sword materialized, and she pointed it at Yuvlunea. Without delay, an enormous ice wall, taking the form of towering waves, materialized and surged towards the rabbit-eared devil.

Yuvlunea couldn't help but mutter in astonishment, "Woah..." She swiftly extended her open palm towards her grimoire, conjuring massive stone barriers that encircled her in an attempt to shield herself from Serafall's approaching onslaught.

As the ice waves slammed into her stony defenses, the impact sent tremors echoing through the city of Lilith. However, as expected, the stone walls crumbled rapidly under the relentless force, and the ice waves continued their relentless advance towards Yuvlunea. Just as they were about to make contact, Yuvlunea abruptly vanished, leaving an arcane card suspended in the air.

Serafall swiftly pivoted and narrowly evaded a powerful punch launched by the young devil. Both combatants were equally startled by the unexpected turn of events. Before Yuvlunea could react, she felt a mighty fist drive into her abdomen, courtesy of Serafall. The rabbit-eared devil was sent hurtling backward, crashing through several buildings in her wake.

In the aftermath of the fierce exchange, Serafall noticed an arcane card hovering just in front of her before vanishing. During their previous skirmish, Yuvlunea had surreptitiously planted an arcane card behind Serafall, ensuring the magical girl remained unaware as she was preoccupied with their battle.

Yuvlunea had chosen the perfect moment to employ the card, just before being engulfed by the ice waves. Her arcane cards possessed a wide range of capabilities, limited only by her demonic power. She had used this one to switch places with the card behind Serafall, expending a significant portion of her demonic energy. She believed it was a gamble that could have turned the tide in her favor after landing a blow on Serafall.

However, she had underestimated Serafall's overall power. Even in her current state, the magical girl had been holding back, relying solely on her natural instincts to counter Yuvlunea's attempt, and utilizing her incredible speed.

"Phew, the younger generations of devils are so energetic," she muttered under her breath, her gaze fixed on the unfolding events. "Ah! I'm still young, you know! Aaron, please love me!!"

Yuvlunea managed to rise to her feet, a bit bewildered by Serafall's seemingly one-sided conversation with herself. Her body still ached from the powerful punch she had received moments ago. She couldn't help but wonder whether Serafall had held back in their brief confrontation.

Gently probing her stomach, Yuvlunea winced as the pain shot through her. "That punch... It should have left me incapacitated. Why am I still able to move?" She dismissed the thought, deciding to focus on the task at hand. "Regardless, I must continue fighting to convincingly demonstrate Zaorama-sama's defeat."

With a touch to her stomach, Yuvlunea conjured arcane cards around it. Each card contained a feeble healing spell, meant to alleviate her injuries. It was far from potent, but it would suffice for the moment.

Serafall's voice interrupted her contemplation. "Well, I guess that's it," she declared.

"Eh?" Yuvlunea turned around just in time to see a pink boot hurtling towards her face, and then everything went black.

Serafall, having swiftly subdued her opponent, withdrew a pair of anti-magic cuffs from a small ring she wore. With expert precision, she secured them around Yuvlunea's wrists, immobilizing her completely.

"Capture complete!" Serafall exclaimed cheerfully, giving a little twirl. She couldn't help but wonder what the others were up to. "Hmm... I wonder where everyone else is. Sirzechs-chan did mention he would be near the borders of Lilith with Ajuka-chan," she mused, her gaze shifting in a particular direction.

— ○ ● ○ —

Belthorin, an Artificial Super Devil meticulously crafted by Hades and subsequently entrusted to the care of Zaorama Nebiros, was unparalleled in power among the Super Devils assigned to Zaorama. However, unlike his brethren, Belthorin bore an insatiable appetite for battle. His combat fervor was an integral part of his character, a trait that had persisted from the moment of his creation.

Despite receiving a comprehensive education and extensive lessons on proper behavior, Belthorin's battle-hungry nature was an intrinsic aspect of his identity. It was a driving force that defined his existence.

One day before the battle, it was Belthorin who approached Zaorama with an audacious proposition—to engage in a battle against none other than Sirzechs Lucifer, the Satan of the Underworld. While Zaorama agreed to the challenge, he couldn't help but acknowledge the considerable disparities between Belthorin and Sirzechs.

Sirzechs possessed a wealth of experience and had earned the distinction of being a mutation within the devil society. Belthorin, although himself considered an anomaly, did not yet stand on the same plane as the renowned Satan. However, Zaorama harbored a glimmer of hope that Belthorin might surprise everyone with his prowess in the impending confrontation, thereby earning the coveted acknowledgment he yearned for.

At present, at the borders of Lilith, Sirzechs Lucifer and Ajuka Beelzebub found themselves standing before the enigmatic devil, Belthorin.

Sirzechs, his curiosity piqued by the formidable presence before him, inquired, "You seem to be a devil of great potential. May I ask who you are?" His gaze remained fixed on the enigmatic figure who had appeared before them.

Belthorin, a youthful devil of impressive stature at 6'11", presented himself before the formidable figures of Sirzechs Lucifer and Ajuka Beelzebub with an unmistakable air of confidence. His presence commanded attention as he stood tall and unwavering.

His jet-black hair was neatly cropped, lending a sense of seriousness to his appearance, and his eyes, though dulled by the color purple, held a depth that hinted at hidden knowledge. A distinctive birthmark adorned his cheek, resembling the elegant curve of an animal's tail, a unique feature that set him apart.

Draped in a long, ebony trench coat that billowed dramatically, he exuded an aura of mystique. His attire was completed by sleek black pants and sturdy brown boots, reflecting both his sense of style and practicality. In the presence of these powerful beings, Belthorin's confidence remained unshaken, a testament to his inner strength and determination.

"I am Belthorin," he introduced himself, his voice carrying the weight of his origins. "An Artificial Super Devil, created by Hades-sama, and bequeathed to... Zaorama Nebiros," he stated, watching as shock registered on both their faces. "I have come to challenge Sirzechs Lucifer, and I am not open to refusal. If you decline, I shall proceed to unleash destruction upon the devils inhabiting this city, and then venture into the Gremory domain, where I will target your wife and child."

While the sounds of destruction and powerful attacks continued to resonate in the distant city of Lilith, an eerie silence enveloped the immediate vicinity around them. Ajuka cast a concerned glance at his friend, offering a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Sirzechs—"

"I understand, Ajuka," Sirzechs replied with an air of solemnity. He possessed an uncanny ability to discern the veracity of people's statements, and he could sense that the devil before him was dead serious.

Sirzechs also had an inkling of Belthorin's formidable power, surmising that despite his limited battle experience, the devil's innate talent and sheer raw power had brought him to this point. He was fully aware of the strength of his family, including Asteri, his mother, father, son, and the numerous servants within their house. However, he couldn't guarantee his wife's safety in a confrontation with Belthorin.

"Very well, Belthorin-kun, I accept your challenge," Sirzechs conceded, his tone measured. "However, I request that we duel in a more secluded section of the Underworld. I give you my word that I won't attempt to flee."

A sly grin stretched across Belthorin's face as he eagerly agreed. Despite his insatiable appetite for battle, the rigorous training imparted by his father had ingrained a sense of honor and fairness within him. With that, both combatants teleported away, leaving Lilith to the care of Ajuka, Serafall, and Falbium.

— ○ ● ○ —

They materialized in a desolate corner of the Underworld, a forsaken realm cloaked in eerie solitude. Towering, gnarled trees formed a dense, haunting canopy above, casting elongated shadows upon the uneven, dimly lit ground. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, broken only by sporadic, mournful wails emanating from unseen, otherworldly beings lurking in the distance.

Amidst the gloom, the remnants of a once-mighty structure loomed. Broken down walls, remnants of a bygone era, stood as decaying sentinels, bearing witness to the inexorable passage of time. Sirzechs had brought them to a place steeped in history and mystery, within the vestiges of one of the former pillars that had crumbled into obscurity.

"Is this fine?" inquired Sirzechs.

Without hesitation, Belthorin dashed back at Sirzechs and slammed his fist into the Satan's stomach. Sirzechs had prepared for the attack, guarding against the punch with his left arm covered in demonic energy, but the sheer force of the blow still knocked him away.

Belthorin whistled in admiration, clearly impressed by Sirzechs' reaction time. "Satan Lucifer, the strongest devil of his generation. I've heard countless tales about you, and I've always wanted to fight you. The weaklings in our organization were becoming rather dull after a while," the young devil explained.

Sirzechs dusted himself off and offered a friendly smile to Belthorin. "I assume you like this place then. That being said, you're undeniably powerful, Belthorin-kun, isn't it? I wouldn't have minded if you'd asked for a duel at a more appropriate time. Although, judging from what you said earlier, patience might not be your strong suit, is it?" Sirzechs inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I can wait, but since this operation is underway, I've run out of patience. Ah, who cares about any of that; let's go!" he shouted before clapping his hands and instantly appearing beside Sirzechs.

His body was enveloped in a deep, dark purple demonic aura. He threw a punch toward Sirzechs with even more ferocity than before, but Sirzechs calmly deflected his punch and then followed up with a lightning-fast elbow strike to the young man's chin, momentarily stunning him. The Crimson Satan swiftly delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to his opponent's stomach, sending him hurtling away and demolishing several trees in the process.

"I also happen to know hand-to-hand combat, Belthorin-kun. I don't solely rely on my demonic powers or the [Power of Destruction]," Sirzechs calmly remarked.

A burst of dark purple demonic aura obliterated the surroundings in front of Sirzechs. A crazed grin crept onto Belthorin's face. "Even though we've barely started, I'm already getting excited! Show me more, Crimson Satan!"

Belthorin reappeared beside Sirzechs once more with another quick clap of his hands. However, as Sirzechs extended his hand towards the young devil, Belthorin suddenly vanished yet again, this time reappearing above him. In mid-air, Belthorin executed a spinning kick aimed directly at Sirzechs.

The Crimson-haired devil blocked the attack with his left arm, but the sheer force of Belthorin's kick shattered the earth below them, creating a massive crater. Sirzechs frowned slightly upon feeling the full force of the attack. He had used a small amount of demonic energy to deflect it, and a faint sting lingered as a testament to the attack's power.

Sirzechs pondered the ongoing battle, acutely aware that his opponent was holding back. 'He's still not giving it his all in this fight,' he thought to himself, discerning a mere glimpse of the adversary's latent power in their recent clash. A sense of urgency gnawed at him as he contemplated his options. 'I'd prefer to conclude this confrontation swiftly, but...'

His gaze shifted back to the formidable devil confronting him. Belthorin, the enigmatic foe, possessed a distinctive ability—one that, while intriguing, appeared to have its limitations. 'Perhaps,' Sirzechs mused, 'I could enlist Jin-kun's assistance to deal with him.'

The devil named Belthorin showcased an unusual power. His method was rather peculiar; he merely clapped his hands, and in an instant, he vanished, reappearing elsewhere through some form of teleportation. It was an ability that intrigued Sirzechs, though he suspected there were constraints to its use.

"Don't let your thoughts wander, Crimson Satan! I'm just getting started!" Belthorin's shout echoed through the battlefield. In an instant, he closed the distance between himself and Sirzechs, a sinister grin stretching across his face.

But this time, something peculiar unfolded. A maelstrom of black-red energy enveloped Belthorin's body, crackling with ominous power. His grin widened further as he launched his punch, targeting Sirzechs' arm once again. As the blow connected, a shockwave of the same eerie energy erupted from the point of impact. The surroundings were engulfed in a nightmarish tempest of dark crimson.

Sirzechs, momentarily disoriented by the unexpected display of power, watched as Belthorin vanished into thin air without the customary clap that heralded his teleportation.

The Crimson Satan considered the possibility that it might have been a result of Belthorin's extraordinary speed. However, his suspicion deepened when, in the blink of an eye, the devil reappeared by his side, striking once more. The ominous surge of energy followed each of Belthorin's strikes, amplifying the intensity with each passing blow.

Sirzechs clenched his teeth as he blocked the relentless assaults. He could feel Belthorin's power escalating with each attack, an unsettling realization taking hold. The enemy before him was not only a formidable adversary but also one who grew stronger with every strike he dealt, and Sirzechs could ill afford to underestimate him.

Finally, Belthorin teleported away, his grin widening even further. The eerie black-red energy continued to discharge from his body, a disconcerting sight that prompted a frown from Sirzechs.

"Do you want to know?" the young devil inquired, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You won't divulge that, so there's no point in asking," Sirzechs retorted, his voice laced with skepticism.

Belthorin couldn't help but burst into laughter, a hearty sound that echoed through the space between them. He pointed dramatically at Sirzechs, his expression still marked by amusement. "Bingo! I'd be a complete fool if I revealed the inner workings of my abilities to you!" he declared before disappearing once more.

The young devil then proceeded to create multiple clones of himself, and they all encircled the clearing, their faces adorned with sinister grins. One of them enthusiastically clapped his hands, causing the entire group to vanish and reappear in various locations around Sirzechs. Remarkably, the Crimson Satan didn't even flinch before unleashing his aura, which sent the clones hurtling away. This spectacle only elicited joyful laughter from Belthorin, who wasted no time in repeating the process, conjuring even more replicas of himself.

They charged towards Sirzechs, throwing a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. With each successive blow they landed on the Crimson Satan, their power grew stronger. However, despite their coordinated assault, Sirzechs managed to hold his ground admirably. He skillfully dodged any incoming attacks and deftly blocked others. When he couldn't evade an attack, he simply invoked his [Power of Destruction] on the targeted area of his body, instantly annihilating any clone foolish enough to make contact with it.

Sirzechs was keen to gauge the full extent of Belthorin's strength and mastery over his unique power. It remained uncertain whether this ability was an inherent trait of a devil, a power bestowed upon him at birth, or something he had cultivated himself. Many enigmas still shrouded the realm of Artificial Devils.

"Come on! What's the matter? Can't keep up!?" Belthorin and his legion of clones taunted Sirzechs, who responded with an enigmatic smile.

After a few more seconds of this relentless dance, Sirzechs once again unleashed his formidable aura, scattering the clones and bringing an end to the spectacle.

"Now that we're here, Belthorin-kun, why don't you start taking me seriously?" Sirzechs inquired, his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. "I can't help but wonder if this is the extent of your power," he continued, baiting Belthorin into a reckless display.

Belthorin knew he was being provoked, well aware that the Satan before him was intentionally trying to rile him up. Nevertheless, his emotions got the better of his logic in this instance, and he succumbed to the temptation.

"You want me to use everything I got!? Alright then, let's go!" His voice bellowed forth, a tempestuous surge of emotion that unleashed a torrential wave of aura, coursing violently throughout the very core of the Underworld.

It was a raw and unfiltered display of his might, a testament to the fervent fire that consumed him, and it did not pass unnoticed. As the world quaked beneath the sheer force of his outpouring, Sirzechs couldn't help but wear a melancholic smile, tinged with a hint of sorrow.

" I will never understand anyone's love for battle. Peace is a better option, isn't it? Of course, the Rating Game, both in the Underworld and the World Tournament, is different since it's considered a sport," he murmured to himself, his musings briefly tracing the contours of conflict and competition.

'Can Jin-kun resurrect him, I wonder?' Sirzechs pondered in hushed contemplation, his thoughts drifting towards Jin's immense capabilities. It was a slender thread of hope, offering a fleeting moment of solace amidst the tumultuous spectacle of power.

As the dark, amethyst-hued aura continued to enshroud Belthorin, it gradually encased his form like a unique, ethereal suit of armor. Within the shadows of this aura danced streaks of black-red energy, lending the armor an otherworldly allure.

It stood as a tangible manifestation of his might, an unequivocal declaration that he was no ordinary devil. Sirzechs, with his vast experience and boundless power, discerned without doubt that Belthorin was indeed a Super Devil, much like himself. Nevertheless, a discernible chasm in their capabilities remained, a gap bridged only by the accumulation of years of experience and growth.

Observing Belthorin's aura swell even further, Sirzechs found himself awash in a complex swirl of emotions. There was profound admiration for the young devil's unwavering resolve and the formidable strength he possessed. Yet, intertwined with that admiration, lingered a persistent concern, a gnawing anxiety for the challenges and tribulations that lay ahead for Belthorin as he delved deeper into this newfound wellspring of power.

Belthorin charged relentlessly toward Sirzechs, his actions speaking louder than words. With a single clap, he summoned an army of clones, all of them wearing the same sinister grin. Each clone tensed, their arms pulled back, preparing to unleash a barrage of punches upon the Crimson Satan below.

A sense of resignation washed over Sirzechs, his expression morphing into one of sadness. He knew what had to be done.

As if in response to his decision, a surge of even more potent aura radiated from Sirzechs. It swept through the surroundings, obliterating everything in its path, including Belthorin and his countless clones. Only a few hundred of them managed to withstand the onslaught, their awestruck gazes fixed upon Sirzechs, who now revealed the extent of his power.

His [Power of Destruction] manifested in a growing aura that expanded relentlessly, eradicating all in its wake. Belthorin and his remaining clones were forced to leap back, resorting to their own defensive magic circles and barriers to protect themselves from Sirzechs' overwhelming aura.

However, with each passing moment, more clones fell as their protective measures crumbled under the relentless pressure. Sirzechs' aura continued to swell until it culminated in a colossal humanoid entity composed entirely of [Power of Destruction]. This was Sirzechs' true form, the [Aura of Destruction], also known as his [Human-Shaped Aura of Destruction].

"Haa... hahahaha! So, this is the legendary [Aura of Destruction]—your true form!" Belthorin exclaimed with a mixture of excitement and awe. "Incredible! The sheer power you possess surpasses any devil I've encountered, Sirzechs Lucifer!"

The battlefield crackled with tension as the two formidable beings faced off, their powers clashing in a titanic showdown.

Belthorin and his remaining clones commenced firing demonic spheres toward Sirzechs, their intent clear: they sought to damage him. However, every one of these malevolent attacks met a swift demise upon contact with Sirzechs' formidable aura. Nothing escaped its relentless obliteration.

Gradually, Sirzechs began to levitate toward Belthorin, who, recognizing the impending threat, leaped away with agility. A few of his clones executed a rapid series of claps, which had the uncanny effect of making him reappear in multiple, scattered locations throughout the vicinity.

Belthorin possessed two distinctive innate abilities. The first was his teleportation prowess. While it might seem somewhat restricted, his claps allowed him to teleport within a specific radius, with no defined boundaries except for the limits of that radius.

In more calculated scenarios, he employed a mix of standard claps alongside his teleportation technique, confounding his adversaries and gaining the upper hand. However, today, his fighting spirit was too riled up, leading him to abstain from this strategy, fearing that Sirzechs could easily discern his ploy.

His second ability manifested as black-red energy, crackling around him like electric currents. This energy served as a straightforward strength boost. After each successful strike—be it a punch, kick, or mere poke—his physical might surged significantly. Given enough strikes, he could theoretically surpass any opponent, for this power boasted no apparent limits or constraints, in stark contrast to the [Boosted Gear's] limitations placed on its wielder's body. Belthorin possessed all the cards required to conquer any adversary, but regrettably for him, Sirzechs proved an even greater anomaly.

Before Belthorin could react, Sirzechs materialized right before him, taking him by surprise.

"What—!?" Belthorin's exclamation was cut short by a sad smile adorning Sirzechs' face. In a swift, decisive motion, Sirzechs touched Belthorin's chest and activated [Ruin the Extinct].

A malevolent, destructive sphere of demonic energy embedded itself within Belthorin and expanded exponentially from within. Mere moments later, the young devil disintegrated entirely, leaving behind no trace of his existence.

With a sigh, the Crimson Satan deactivated his [Aura of Destruction], a somber reflection in his eyes. He spoke quietly to the vanquished foe, "If only we had met under better circumstances, Belthorin."

It was a sudden and abrupt conclusion for the devil. Belthorin had scarcely a moment to fully comprehend the swift and inexorable fate that had befallen him: one moment, he existed; the next, he simply did not.

Sirzechs' voice trembled as he stammered, "J-Jin-kun can bring him back without the need for body parts, r-right…?" Panic began to creep into his words.

In this brief and intense confrontation, the ultimate victor emerged as the mighty Satan, Lucifer.

— ○ ● ○ —

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