The battle between the two sides split the sky like a canvas torn in half—vivid, clashing hues painting entirely different scenes in each direction.
And the moment their spells collided, the surrounding space distorted ever so slightly under the violent energy feedback.
"~———!!"
An indescribably loud explosion rang out, shaking heaven and earth. Magic of every kind burst and splattered wildly across the sky, turning the clouds into a kaleidoscope of color.
Beautiful—yes.
But behind that dazzling display were effects so deadly that even a High-Rank Demon would hesitate to charge in.
Burning, corrosion, poison…
Tens of thousands of different types of energy tangled in chaotic warfare, each trying to dominate the others.
One glance was enough for Orsaga to tell: over 90% of the energy came from the abyssal demons. The remaining fraction—barely a sliver—was from the fleets.
Had the demons been even slightly coordinated, they could have not only neutralized the barrage of energy beams but wiped out all three enemy fleets in one fell swoop.
But clearly, expecting coordination from abyssal demons was like asking sharks to form a ballet troupe.
Cohesion? Cooperation?
Abyssal demons only showed real synergy when they were backstabbing each other.
One-on-one? They were terrifying.
Up front, from behind, poisoned, cursed—any form of combat, they were masters.
But teamwork?
Their tactics were pure chaos.
Still, Orsaga didn't seem concerned. He'd never expected more from them in the first place.
He simply issued a casual command to the demons under his control:
"Go. Attack at will. Your only objective is to kill everything."
And with that, the demons—already twitching in bloodthirsty anticipation—howled with glee and burst forth like a flood of madness unleashed.
Their roars echoed across the battlefield like a storm of nightmares.
Some surged forward across the ground.
Others took to the air.
Some even tunneled through the earth, while others ripped open space itself to leap into the fray.
Their forms were wildly diverse—beastlike, humanoid, or so twisted and abominable that they defied all logic.
But one thing united them all: the crazed bloodlust gleaming in their eyes.
None of it was hidden.
Every ounce of violence was laid bare, visible to the world.
And when they crashed toward the oncoming fleets like a tidal wave, it wasn't blades that brought terror—it was their very presence.
Even the most seasoned church soldiers, trained in holy warfare, couldn't help but flinch at the visceral horror.
It had nothing to do with courage.
Their instincts as living beings screamed at them to flee.
But… could they?
Of course not.
And so, after a single moment of paralyzing fear, one soldier on a nearby ship broke and fired the first shot.
Like a fuse lit on a powder keg, the rest followed instantly.
Hundreds of warships opened fire at once, and the sea erupted in a cacophony of thunder and cannonlight.
The demons took casualties, of course—but rather than break their morale, the screams and death of their kin only drove them further into frenzy.
Pain and death were fuel.
Within seconds, the vanguard of abyssal demons had already crossed dozens of kilometers, bridging the sea to engage the fleets in close combat.
They tore across the decks like wild dogs, baring their blood-soaked maws for the terrified defenders to see up close.
In less than a minute, explosions began rocking the sky and sea. Ships cracked and groaned as they slowly started to sink.
Compared to the Myling World, the dimensional suppression of the Seven Seas Realm was relatively light. And thanks to the Chloroya Merchant Guild's preemptive rituals, even the world's will was partially blocked.
As a result, most demons were operating at nearly full power—despite having just arrived.
Their destruction easily exceeded anything the local factions had seen in the past. The Three Great Churches were caught completely off guard.
Casualties piled up rapidly.
BOOM!!
Suddenly, amidst the rainbow-colored sky, a deafening thunderclap exploded overhead.
Thousands of lightning bolts surged down like splintering tree branches, each one slamming into an abyssal demon with surgical precision.
In one stroke, the tide began to shift.
Hope flickered in the defenders' eyes.
Shouts of jubilation spread across the decks like wildfire.
They roared, reinvigorated:
"Nakaros!!"
"Nakaros!!"
"Nakaros!!"
The name of their god.
With every chant, the sky above—blanketed by stormclouds—began to tear open.
The kaleidoscopic veil shattered.
And then—three colossal gates of divine light emerged:
A golden gate, radiant and majestic
A cerulean gate, deep and serene
A pure white gate, blinding and cold
Together, they formed a perfect encirclement around Orsaga's domain—cutting off the entire area from the rest of reality.
Had the enemy's power been stronger, Orsaga had no doubt they would've tried to banish him and the others directly out of the realm.
Watching the hundred-meter-tall gates open slowly in sync, Orsaga grinned.
"Now that's what I call an entrance…"
Then he turned to Alison and Golarial, speaking calmly:
"Go do whatever you want. Join the fight. Observe. Even take the side of the locals if that's what you feel like. Your actions are your own."
The moment his words ended, his human form began to swell and expand.
In mere seconds, he revealed his true body—towering over 40 meters tall.
Eight massive wings unfurled behind him, radiating intense waves of heat that scorched the air.
The other four Greater-Rank Demons, previously listless, now perked up with excitement.
One of them, whose body resembled a giant centipede with a human face, laughed uproariously.
"The real show begins! CHARGE!"
The others followed suit.
"ATTACK!"
"KILL THEM ALL!"
"HAHAHAHA!!"
The remaining 80% of the demon horde erupted in ecstatic roars, surging into the sky like a storm of flesh and wings.
From within the three glowing gates, hosts of paladins, templars, and zealots descended—clad in sacred armor, weapons raised high, chanting their gods' names with fanatic reverence.
The two forces collided in the skies like storms made flesh.
Orsaga and the other Greater-Rank Demons spared not a glance for the zealots on the front lines.
Their attention turned beyond the gates—toward the shadowed figures lingering behind the divine barriers.
They were the real challenge.
If they could be slain, then the Seven Seas Realm would fall.
If Orsaga and his allies were defeated, their bodies would become rare demon trophies for another world's vault.
No middle ground.
___
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