Chapter 12.7. Third time’s the Charm (7)

  Behind the main front, Envy and Lust intercepted the thousand-strong fairy rear force. Spirit spells detonated mid-air as demonic auras tore through shimmering barriers.

  And now—

  Mephistopheles and Apollyn advanced toward the four champions.

  The battlefield trembled under the weight of converging apex powers.

  Behind Lucifer, space rippled.

  Sloth and Gluttony reappeared, kneeling heavily. Severed limbs were already partially regenerating, flesh knitting together slowly through demonic vitality.

  Even after losing an arm and a leg each, both remained conscious.

  Gluttony was grinning through blood.

  Sloth simply looked irritated.

  Lucifer did not turn immediately.

  “Kane.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Can they be fully restored?”

  Kane assessed their condition briefly.

  “It is possible. Their cores remain intact. Given time and proper treatment in the Demon Realm, they will recover completely.”

  Lucifer nodded once.

  “Then heal them as much as necessary and return them to the Demon Realm.”

  Kane snapped his fingers.

  A summoning sigil spread beneath Sloth and Gluttony. Demonic energy enveloped them as their wounds stabilized. In the next instant, they vanished—sent back to Hell for complete restoration.

  Silence lingered briefly around Lucifer and Kane.

  The demonic army had been erased.

  Only the highest-ranking entities remained.

  Lucifer’s gaze returned to the four warriors standing together amidst the carnage.

  The Paladin’s blade radiated unwavering holy light.

  The Dark Elf’s eyes gleamed from beneath his hood.

  The Oread stood calmly, stone circling her like living armour.

  And the Warhammer rested his weapon against his shoulder as if the slaughter had been insignificant.

  They did not advance recklessly.

  They were waiting.

  Lucifer’s crimson eyes gleamed faintly.

  “So this is the world’s answer.”

  Behind the champions, fairy light shimmered. To the sides, Beastmen roared. In the distance, Greed’s explosions continued.

  The world had committed everything.

  Lucifer stepped forward slightly, his wings stretching outward at last.

  The air thickened.

  “Let us see,” he murmured softly,

  “whether hope truly stands against inevitability.”

  Mephistopheles and Apollyn descended like twin comets, landing before the four champions with enough force to fracture the blood-soaked earth beneath them.

  For a brief moment—

  Silence.

  Then the Warhammer moved.

  He surged forward alone, abandoning formation without hesitation. The massive weapon in his hand whistled through the air, descending toward Mephistopheles with crushing force.

  Lucifer watched closely.

  But before the blow could land—

  Apollyn stepped in.

  The Warhammer collided with her guard instead of Mephistopheles, the shockwave rippling outward in a violent ring that scattered debris for dozens of meters.

  The Warhammer didn’t retreat. He shifted instantly into close combat, abandoning the weapon mid-motion and throwing savage, reinforced punches.

  Each strike carried monstrous physical power—enough to shatter fortress walls.

  Yet Apollyn blocked them with alarming ease.

  Her arms barely moved as she intercepted each blow.

  Another punch came.

  This time—

  She ducked beneath it.

  Her movement was fluid. Calculated.

  She drove her fist upward into his abdomen with devastating precision.

  BOOM.

  The Warhammer’s armoured body bent around the impact before he was launched backward like artillery fire, crashing near the Paladin and Dark Elf.

  Lucifer’s eyes narrowed slightly.

  Good.

  A black greatsword materialized in Mephistopheles’s hand, its surface absorbing light rather than reflecting it. He rested it casually upon his shoulder as if this battlefield were a mere inconvenience.

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  Two crimson short swords manifested in Apollyn’s hands next—sleek, curved, and humming with contained destruction.

  Kane exhaled slowly.

  “It seems they intend to treat this as a serious battle from the outset.”

  “As they should,” Lucifer replied calmly, though the chill in his voice remained.

  “They are undoubtedly as angered as I am… for what was done to Gluttony and Sloth.”

  Behind them, Kane completed the emergency restoration. The severed limbs of Sloth and Gluttony had been reattached, but the energy expenditure was immense. Both would require full recovery within the Demon Realm.

  At Lucifer’s command, a portal to Hell opened once more.

  The two wounded Sins were sent through without ceremony.

  The portal sealed.

  Kane returned to Lucifer’s side.

  Just in time.

  Across the battlefield, the four champions had regained formation.

  The Paladin stepped forward slightly, holy light intensifying around his blade.

  The Dark Elf’s shadow stretched unnaturally along the ground.

  The Oread’s stone armour thickened, fragments of the battlefield rising to orbit her like satellites.

  The Warhammer rolled his shoulders and reclaimed his weapon, eyes now fully focused.

  The air shifted.

  This was no longer scattered clashes across a battlefield.

  This was a confrontation between apex beings.

  Mephistopheles tilted his head slightly.

  Apollyn adjusted his stance.

  Neither smiled.

  Neither taunted.

  Lucifer observed in silence.

  The war had escalated past armies.

  Now—

  It was legends against legends.

  The Warhammer beastman rose to his feet and dusted himself off as if the previous exchange had meant nothing. The four warriors gathered briefly, speaking among themselves in low, urgent voices before breaking formation.

  Moments later, two of them—the Warhammer and the Dark Elf—charged straight at Mephistopheles and Apollyn.

  Lucifer observed them closely. At first, he assumed they had devised a coordinated strategy to deal with the two Demon Lords. However, as only the two advanced while the Paladin and Oread remained behind, his expectation shifted into mild disappointment.

  “They may be the strongest in their respective kingdoms,” Kane said thoughtfully, “but it seems their intellect does not quite match their strength. It would have been far wiser for all four to engage the Demon Lords together rather than dividing themselves into a two-on-two battle.”

  Lucifer nodded slightly, his crimson eyes fixed on the approaching clash.

  “I agree, Kane. But perhaps they are confident enough to believe this will be sufficient… even if it leads to their deaths.”

  The air between the opposing sides thickened as they closed the distance, the battlefield growing tense in anticipation of the next violent collision.

  Apollyn and Mephistopheles exchanged a brief glance and nodded before charging toward the beastman and the Dark Elf.

  As the distance between them closed, the beastman threw a powerful punch straight at Mephistopheles. At the same time, the Dark Elf unsheathed her twin blades, lowering her stance as she prepared to strike. In response, Mephistopheles drew his greatsword back for a heavy swing, while Apollyn angled her twin blades forward, ready to meet her opponent head-on.

  They collided with tremendous force.

  The impact carved a crater beneath them as steel and raw strength met in a violent explosion of power. Apollyn’s blades clashed against the Dark Elf’s twin swords in a shower of sparks, while Mephistopheles’s greatsword met the beastman’s reinforced fist. For a brief moment, neither side yielded, and the force of the collision repelled them almost evenly.

  The beastman roared and pressed forward, trading blow after blow with Mephistopheles. Each strike carried immense weight, yet the Demon Lord met them calmly, their weapons and fists colliding again and again without either gaining a clear advantage.

  On the other side of the crater, Apollyn and the Dark Elf moved at incredible speeds. Their blades flashed rapidly, clashing so frequently that the surrounding debris began to swirl around them. Within moments, the sheer force of their exchange stirred up a small dust storm, partially obscuring their deadly duel.

  “My lord, earlier you seemed to know what those warriors’ races were. If you don’t mind, could you explain them?” Kane asked.

  Lucifer kept his gaze fixed on the battlefield for a moment before responding. “Very well. I will begin with the Warhammer beastman.”

  “Beastmen as a race are already physically superior to most others. From early childhood, they are raised in the arts of war and survival. Strength, endurance, and combat discipline are woven into their culture. However, once every thousand years or so, a special class is born among them—one known as the Warhammer.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly as Mephistopheles blocked another devastating punch.

  “A Warhammer is far more powerful than an ordinary beastman. It is said that even as infants, they possess nearly half the strength of a fully grown adult. Their bodies are naturally reinforced, their instincts for battle far sharper, and their growth far more explosive.”

  “They are treasured above all within the beastman race,” Lucifer continued. “Viewed not merely as warriors, but as symbols of dominance and legacy. Most Warhammers are considered natural heirs to the throne.”

  A faint smirk touched his lips.

  “If I recall correctly, the current Beastman King is also a Warhammer. Which means the one Mephistopheles is facing now is likely the next in line to inherit that throne.”

  “Isn’t it risky to bring an heir to the throne into a war where death is almost guaranteed?” Kane asked.

  “In ordinary circumstances, yes,” Lucifer replied calmly. “However, even if he is a prince, lineage alone is not enough. Among the beastmen, strength and accomplishment determine legitimacy. An heir must carve his worth into history before he is truly acknowledged as king—or even king material.”

  Lucifer’s gaze followed the Warhammer as he traded heavy blows with Mephistopheles.

  “And what greater achievement could there be,” he continued, “than standing among the warriors who defeated the Demon King?”

  Kane nodded in understanding. “I see. Defeating Mephistopheles alone would be considered a monumental feat. It would undoubtedly secure his claim as the future king.”

  A faint pause followed before Kane added, “Though regrettably for him, such an achievement would come at a rather high cost.”

  Lucifer’s expression did not change. “Indeed.”

  He shifted his attention briefly toward the Dark Elf, whose blades continued to flash against Apollyn’s.

  “As for the Dark Elf,” Lucifer said, “I doubt an explanation is necessary. Dark Elves dwell within the Forest of Slaughter. Their society is built upon assassination, subterfuge, and survival of the fittest. Compared to them, most races appear almost… civilized.”

  His tone remained indifferent.

  “So we can move on.”

  The Oread,” Lucifer began, his eyes narrowing slightly, “is an extraordinarily rare type of fairy. So rare, in fact, that only one is born in thousands of years.

  Their affinity for spirit magic is unparalleled, allowing them to control and manipulate energies that others could scarcely comprehend. Unfortunately, their bodies are not designed for close combat, but their magical prowess more than compensates for that limitation.

  Even the Fairy Queen herself isn’t an Oread, though she possesses her own dangerous abilities far beyond most of that race.”

  Lucifer’s gaze then shifted to the human Paladin. “And lastly, the Paladin. The pinnacle of holy knights among humans—not as rare as an Oread or a Warhammer, yet this particular one is extraordinary.

  He carries a level of divinity within him that is almost angelic. I must admit, I am surprised that such a being even exists among humans.

  Normally, Paladins are considered support units, enhancing allies and providing defensive capabilities. But don’t mistake them for weaklings—their power, when fully unleashed, can rival the mightiest warriors on the battlefield.”

  He paused, allowing Kane to absorb the information. “All of them are exceptional in their own ways, yet they are still no match for the full force of our army… if properly commanded.”

  “It’s quite fascinating that the humans could evolve to a level close to an angel,” Kane said, shaking his head slightly. “Of course, the weakest of all angels, but still…”

  Lucifer and Kane turned their attention to Greed, who was tearing through the lizardmen army single-handedly. Despite multiple scars and injuries covering his body, a wide smile remained on his face, showing just how much he was enjoying the fight.

  Lucifer noticed something that made him nod in approval: Greed had drawn his scythe, a weapon he only used when fully exhilarated.

  “Greed is doing well, don’t you think, my lord?” Kane asked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

  “Yes,” Lucifer replied, eyes scanning the battlefield. “He has exceeded my expectations. Killing that many soldiers by himself is an impressive feat. But… it seems he has slowed down considerably since he started. At this rate, he could be overwhelmed by the rest of the lizardmen.”

  “Should I perhaps lend him a hand?” Kane asked, watching Greed struggle through the sea of lizardmen.

  “No, there’s no need yet,” Lucifer replied calmly. “Let him fight until he can’t even lift his scythe. Only then should you intervene. Otherwise, he’ll just complain about our assistance while he still has the energy to fight.”