Volume 2 chapter 11
The earth did not just burn; it flowed with liquid fire. Twisted, molten steel littered the landscape. The roar from the heavens sounded like the opening of hell’s gates.
Those iron wings dropped dozens of canisters every minute. Men screamed and ran, only to be swallowed by the inferno.The lucky ones were vaporized instantly. The unlucky ones the fire clung to them like a parasitic demon. It ignited everything it touched.
Even enchanted armor offered no sanctuary; the heat simply cooked them inside their steel shells. Rolling on the ground did nothing. Water did not extinguish it. It burned until they were reduced to statues of char and ash.
This was the report Emperor Curtis received upon his return.
Page after page of casualty lists, each line a testament to suffocation and agony. Summary after summary of devastating losses. It was enough to make even a Saint lightheaded.
Despite the early warning and the immediate interception by a dozen Eighth-Rank Knights, the demons had brutally forced their way through to deliver their payload.
But the true catastrophe was the second wave.
After the initial bombing run, the Alliance forces—assuming the raid had concluded—landed to conduct desperate rescue operations. While they were vulnerable, disorganized, and pulling the wounded from the fire, the second wave struck.
That single tactical double-tap wiped out over a dozen Eighth-Rank Knights. Caught on the ground, they were blasted into oblivion before they could even manifest their battle auras.
"I need an explanation..."
Curtis lowered the report. His face was the color of iron, veins pulsing violently against his temple.
"Your Majesty, the Demon flying machines are simply too numerous," a Ninth-Rank Knight explained, his expression bitter. "They swarm in the hundreds. They possess speed superior to Giant Eagles and a payload capacity greater than Griffons. They sacrifice agility only to Wyverns. Engaging them is a nightmare."
The knight took a breath, his voice trembling slightly. "To counter them effectively, even Seventh-Rank Knights struggle to keep pace. We need Eighth-Rank Knights to ensure aerial supremacy. But our numbers are finite, and the demons have hundreds of these machines! Unless... we escalate."
"Hmph." Curtis nodded heavily, his eyes darkening. "Good. From this moment forward, the Saints will move to the front lines. We will command the battle directly."
"Truly?!" The knight’s eyes widened with hope. "We do not have to wait for the... Hero anymore?"
"No. I have conferred with Pope Farragut and Empress Theia. We are done waiting," Curtis said, his gaze cold as he stared down at the map of the Demon Realm. "The Saints will infiltrate the Demon Realm and execute a Decapitation Strike on the Demon Lord. You and the others will lead the armies to wipe the Demon Race from the face of history."
"Yes, Your Majesty!!"
The City of Darkness. The Temple.
Clyris returned to the Demon God Pool.
Cossette and Lilith sat by the edge, drawing small streams of mana-water into their bodies to knit their shattered forms back together. Clyris crouched down, dipping her hand into the pool. The pure, crystal-clear fluid pooled in her palm, defying gravity and refusing to leak through her fingers.
It was called "water," but as Charlo would have corrected, it was a "high-energy liquid-state mana construct."
"What should I do...?"
Staring at the shimmering puddle in her palm, Clyris whispered into the silence.
Ascension to the Saint Realm felt infinitely distant. To evolve an Authority into a Domain, the ascendant needed to construct their own internal world and flood it with their power. But she was stalled at the foundation. Attempt after attempt, failure after failure.
"If... I cannot do it alone... then I will force a breakthrough from the Outside!"
Clyris clenched her fist around the water. Driving her will with the stolen majesty of the Demon Lord, she submerged her consciousness into the liquid.
Darkness. Depth.
It felt like sinking into the deepest trench of the universe. Time and space dissolved. There was only an eternal, immutable black void. Entering this space was like a single drop of rain falling into a boundless ocean. She could see nothing. She could only sense her own insignificance.
"Chris..."
After an unknown eternity, a colossal voice rolled in from all directions, vibrating through the fabric of her soul.
Clyris froze.
The name He called... was her name when she was a man.
"You are... the Demon God?!"
"Hmph. According to Phyx, that is what you call Me," the voice rumbled, cold and indifferent.
It... actually worked? She had only meant to test the connection, convinced the meager amount of pool water would fail to bridge the gap.
"If it were those other pieces of trash calling, I certainly would not have answered."
The voice seemed to peel back her skull and read her thoughts directly. It sounded thoroughly unimpressed.
"Wait! You can read my mind?" Clyris asked, her mental guard snapping up.
"So what if I can? So what if I cannot? Did you truly believe a mortal could hide anything from Me?"
Clyris frowned. She tried to mobilize her power, only to find her four Authorities dead silent. The mana in her body was frozen, solid as rock.
"Haha! Foolish. In this place, never mind a speck of dust like you—even Phyx could not ripple the water if He were here!" the Demon God mocked.
"Phyx? Who is that? Is he strong?" Clyris retorted, refusing to be cowed by the entity's pressure.
"Hmm... He is not particularly strong. But among your kind, He carries a rather loud title. What was it... Ah. The Lord of Light."
Clyris choked.
The Lord of Light... isn't particularly strong?
But then again, this was the Demon God speaking. An entity that invaded this world forty thousand years ago and still hadn't been fully expelled. He had earned the right to arrogance.
"Forget it! I came here to ask one thing! The Demon Race on Rodinia is on the brink of extinction. Are you going to help or not?!" Clyris demanded, metaphorically sticking her neck out.
"Hmph. Do not misunderstand. I care nothing for that refuse. Did you really think that incomplete power and a thimble of water could sustain a conversation with Me?"
The Demon God spoke with divine disdain. "If it were not for you, I would not have bothered to look down, even if all that trash sacrificed their lives at once."
"Me...?" Clyris faltered.
"Yes. You... the shameless thief who stole my precious daughter's existence."
The Demon God’s voice dropped to absolute zero.
"Wait! What do you mean?"
A tremor of primal fear ran through her heart. A terrible premonition bloomed in the darkness.
"You filthy, dirty, lowborn thing. With the soul of a man, you stole the power of my precious daughter. You seized her vessel. You despicable little thief... daring to defile Her with your presence..."
The Demon God gnashed His teeth, the sound like tectonic plates grinding together. The space around Clyris suddenly tightened, the void compressing from all directions.
"I... didn't... know! I was... chosen..."
Pressure arrived from every angle. It felt as though a mountain was pressing against every inch of her skin, threatening to grind her concept of self into powder. Inside her mind, the endless darkness pressed in, seeking to numb her heart and shatter her soul.
"SILENCE!!"
The Demon God roared. The sound carried supreme authority, vibrating through her body and mind like a bell tolling for the end of the world.
"The gap... is too big..."
That roar was the final straw. Clyris could no longer support the weight of her own ego. Her will collapsed like a broken dam.
...
Ah... that's right...
I am... a human.
And a man, at that...
Heh...
The one pushed off the cliff... that was me.
The one hanging from the tree on the rock face... that was me.
The one whose eyes were pecked out by the crows... that was me.
I just stole the power of the Demon Lord Phyllis. Despicably walking the earth in a woman's body... pretending to be something I am not.
In the end... I am neither Demon nor Human.
Just a shameless... Wraith.
Thump... thump...
Her heart twitched painfully. It felt like something wanted to burst out of her chest, but the sensation was fading. Her consciousness began to blur, dissolving into the abyss.
Yet, as the darkness took her, a singular sensation sharpened.
Something was roaring. Something was burning.
Something inside wanted to surge out.
So cold...
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