Serafall pressed her hand against the wound on her chest, feeling warm blood seep between her fingers.
This should have been easy.
The old man before her—Alphose Asmodeus, a relic from the original bloodlines—was just Ultimate-Class. She'd faced dozens like him during the civil war. Crushed them. She was Serafall Leviathan, one of the Four Great Satans. Maou-Class. This fight shouldn't have even been close.
But somehow, his abilities had reached the Satan-Class threshold.
Still. That shouldn't be enough to defeat her.
Except she'd been betrayed.
Her own subordinate had plunged a blade of imbued with holy energy into her back during the initial chaos. A spy. A traitor embedded in their ranks, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
The wound still burned with holy energy, disrupting her healing and sapping her strength with every passing second.
She'd killed him for it. Frozen him solid and shattered him into a thousand pieces. But the damage was done.
Now Alphose stood before her, that arrogant smirk on his scarred face. He raised his sword—a demonic blade that looked like it had been forged in the original Devil civil war.
"Betrayal always hits the hardest, doesn't it? When you realize those you trusted were never truly loyal."
Serafall straightened despite the agony lancing through her chest and back.
"Big talk from a fossil who got left behind by history."
She tried to inject her usual cheerfulness into the words, but they came out strained. Exhausted. She was exhausted.
Alphose's smile widened. It didn't reach his cold, pitiless eyes.
"History is written by the victors, young one. And today?" He pointed his blade at her. "Today, we reclaim what was stolen from us."
He moved.
But before Alphose could close the distance and deliver the killing blow, he burned.
A beam of crimson fire rained down from above, striking him with the force of a falling star. The ancient devil's eyes widened in shock—just for an instant—before the flames consumed him completely.
Alphose didn't have time to scream.
He was turned to ash in seconds. His sword clattered to the ground, glowing red-hot before it too disintegrated into nothing.
Serafall stared, stunned.
She looked up, searching for the source of the attack.
Leon descended from the sky like an avenging angel, wreathed in golden light. His armor—that magnificent golden armor she'd seen him wear before—gleamed brilliantly against the smoke-filled sky. His golden hair whipped in the wind, and his eyes burned with barely contained fury.
Her heart quickened.
Not from fear. Not from relief.
From something else entirely.
The surrounding enemies—dozens of Old Satan Faction devils who had been closing in to support Alphose—froze. Their faces went pale as they recognized who had just arrived.
Leon Mishima.
The strongest human.
They tried to run.
Leon raised his hand.
"Too late."
Fire erupted across the battlefield in waves. Controlled. Precise. Devastating.
Each enemy met the same fate as Alphose—reduced to ash before they could even cry out. The beam-like attacks cut through their defenses like they were paper. Magic barriers shattered. Defensive spells crumbled. Ancient bloodline abilities meant nothing.
Within moments, the entire force was gone.
Only ash remained, drifting on the wind.
Leon landed softly beside her. He looked her over with those intense eyes, his expression shifting from fury to concern.
"You're injured."
Serafall opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat.
Her heart was still racing. Heat crept up her neck, spreading across her cheeks. She could feel herself blushing and desperately tried to suppress it.
Get it together, Serafall.
"I-I'm fine," she managed, hating how breathless she sounded. She clutched at the wound on her chest, suddenly very aware of how disheveled she must look. Blood-stained. Exhausted. Completely undignified for a Maou.
Leon stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the cursed wound.
Leon reached into his pocket without a word.
When his hand emerged, he held a small green bean between his fingers.
Serafall's eyes widened.
A Senzu Bean.
Everyone knew about those beans. They'd all witnessed what happened during Leon's fight against Vali—though calling it a "fight" was generous. It had been a one-sided beatdown. Vali, the White Dragon Emperor, had been utterly defeated. Broken. Barely conscious.
And then Leon had given him one of these beans.
Vali had recovered instantly. Completely. Every injury healed. His energy fully restored. It was like the battle had never happened.
The entire supernatural world had been talking about it ever since.
"Here," Leon said simply, holding it out to her.
Serafall stared at the bean, then up at Leon's face. Her heart hammered even harder.
He was giving her something so precious. So valuable. Without hesitation.
"I..." She reached out, her fingers trembling slightly as she took it from his palm. Their skin brushed for just a moment.
Electricity shot through her.
"Thank you," she whispered, softer than she'd intended.
"Where are Sirzechs and the others?" Leon said, his tone shifting back to business.
"Sirzechs is dealing with the main force near the commercial district. Ajuka's protecting the civilians at the evacuation points. Falbium's coordinating our defensive lines—"
Leon's head snapped toward the east.
Serafall felt it too a heartbeat later.
A massive surge of demonic energy erupted across the city—wild, destructive, overwhelming. The sheer pressure of it made the air itself vibrate. Buildings in that direction groaned under the weight of the power being unleashed.
But it was familiar.
"That's Sirzechs," Serafall breathed. "He's using his true form."
Leon's eyes narrowed.
That meant the situation was serious. Sirzechs rarely transformed into his Power of Destruction form unless absolutely necessary. When he did, collateral damage became inevitable.
"I'm going to him," Leon said, already gathering spiritual energy.
"I'm coming with you," Serafall said immediately.
Leon glanced at her, then nodded. "Stay close."
They launched into the air together, shooting toward the source of that overwhelming power.
They arrived within seconds.
The commercial district was unrecognizable. Entire blocks had been reduced to rubble. The ground was scarred with massive craters, and the air shimmered with residual destructive energy.
In the center of the devastation stood Sirzechs—or rather, what Sirzechs became when he stopped holding back.
His humanoid form was gone, replaced by a swirling mass of pure destruction energy vaguely shaped like a person. Crimson and black power crackled around him, disintegrating anything it touched.
And at his feet lay an unconscious devil—Shalba Beelzebub, one of the Old Satan Faction's leaders. His body was broken, barely breathing.
As they landed, the destructive aura around Sirzechs began to recede. The mass of power compressed, solidified, reformed. Within moments, Sirzechs stood in his normal devil-human form, his crimson hair disheveled and his suit torn but his expression calm.
He looked up at their arrival.
"Leon. Serafall." His voice was steady despite the carnage around him. "Good timing."
"Almost finished," Sirzechs said, glancing down at the unconscious Shalba.
Michael descended from above, his twelve golden wings spread wide. Beside him were Azazel and Gabriel, both looking battle-worn but intact.
"The northern district is clear," Michael announced, his calm voice carrying authority. "We've neutralized the remaining forces there."
"Same with the eastern evacuation routes," Azazel added, adjusting his coat. "The civilians are secure. Most of the Old Satan Faction's strike teams have been eliminated or captured."
Gabriel nodded, her expression serene despite the blood on her white robes. "The few that remain are retreating. They know they've lost."
Sirzechs exhaled slowly. "Good. Then we can—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as he truly looked at Leon for the first time.
"Wait." Sirzechs stared. "Leon, you're... alive?"
Serafall blinked, then understanding dawned on her face. "Oh! That's right! You fought Ophis!"
Michael's eyes widened. "The Ouroboros Dragon? You encountered her?"
"Encountered?" Azazel let out a sharp laugh. "He didn't just encounter her—he fought her. Ophis herself."
Gabriel's expression cracked with genuine shock. "But... Ophis is the Infinite Dragon God. One of the strongest beings in existence. Even we—" She gestured to herself and Michael. "—would struggle against her."
They all stared at Leon with a mixture of amazement and disbelief.
"How are you standing here uninjured?" Sirzechs asked bluntly. "Ophis should have been able to erase you from existence with a thought."
Leon's expression remained neutral. "I managed."
"You managed?" Gabriel repeated incredulously. "Against Ophis?"
Serafall felt a surge of pride despite herself. Of course Leon had survived. He was Leon.
"The Old Satan Faction is finished," Leon said, redirecting the conversation. "Let's focus on securing the city and helping the wounded."
The leaders exchanged glances, clearly wanting to press for more details about his encounter with Ophis, but Leon's tone made it clear the discussion was over.
Michael nodded slowly. "He's right. We can debrief later. For now, Kuoh City needs us."
=====
If you'd like to read ahead and support me, feel free to check it out: [email protected]/VashFF
P.S.
I've started working on an original novel on the side during my free time, and I wanted to share it with you all. It's still in its early stages, just a few chapters in, but I'm really excited about it and would love for you to check it out!
Once I have enough chapters, I'll be posting advance chapters here in my patreon.
If you have the time, give it a read and let me know what you think. Your feedback means a lot and helps me improve as I keep writing.
Here's the link.
https://www.scribblehub.com/series/2241554/cultivation-ex-machina/
Thank you for all your support as always ❤️