"My lord… we have incoming."
That single message from Saigo froze my soul.
The room fell into absolute silence.
No one spoke. No one breathed.
The food on the table went cold.
Yūka's expression stiffened—her eyes sharpening instantly—while something ugly and violent surged through my chest. Rage. Fear. Instinct.
No more words were exchanged.
I turned to Yūka.
"Departure. Now."
At my current state, no matter how fast I flew—no matter how violently I forced my power—it would still take days to reach the battlefield.
But Yūka was different.
If she carried us, we would arrive in one… maybe two hours.
Even without teleportation.
Even with me not yet restored.
Because Yūka—unlike me—was still at her absolute peak.
I grabbed her hand.
The universe shattered behind us as we launched forward at full speed.
Before leaving, I spoke through the mental link—my voice cold, absolute, unforgiving.
"Hold the fort until I return.
Nothing—nothing—happens to Tsukiko. Not a scratch. Not a tear."
My rage sharpened.
"Die if you must.
Kill the gods.
Erase civilizations if they stand in your way."
My voice turned murderous.
"But my woman will not bleed.
She will not cry."
A brief pause.
"Protect her… with everything you have."
Saigo's reply came instantly.
"Understood, my lord. As you command."
Then—hesitation.
"…But this time, it is not the gods who attack."
My eyes narrowed.
"We have an incoming from the Underworld."
A beat.
"From Hell."
My blood ran cold.
"They are devils."
Yūka's brows furrowed.
"Huh…? Why now? After all these years?"
"The war should have ended a thousand years ago. Why would the Demon Lord move again?"
Her voice dropped.
"Why target Tsukiko?"
I clenched my jaw.
"I don't know the circumstances," I said quietly.
"And I don't care."
My aura flared.
"Defend her. That's an order."
As we flew, red rage poured out of me, flooding space itself.
Asteroids disintegrated before we touched them.
Meteorites vaporized.
Even small planets cracked apart under the pressure.
It was the first time I had felt this much power flowing through my body.
Was it because of Tsukiko?
Or…
Was it the hatred of the original Crish—
His ancient loathing for gods and devils alike—
Finally awakening?
Achaemenid — The Castle Gates
The sky bled crimson.
At the gates of the castle stood a figure wrapped in overwhelming darkness.
The Prince of Darkness.
Baal—also known as Beelzebub.
Right-hand man of the King of Hell himself—Satan.
The corrupter of mankind.
The ruler of fear.
The devil who bends weak souls into submission.
He smiled.
"Long time no see, Saigo Karna," Baal said casually.
"How have you been… all these years?"
Saigo's grip tightened on his katana.
"Why would that concern you, devil brat?"
"Why are you here? The war ended a thousand years ago."
His voice sharpened.
"You were not invited."
Baal chuckled.
"Come on. Don't be like that."
"It's a reunion."
His eyes glinted.
"I'm simply following my king's orders."
A cruel grin spread across his face.
"He wants that filthy little human princess."
Saigo's blood boiled.
"She seems to have caught his interest."
A pause.
"Oh—and she's excellent bait."
His smile widened.
"To lure Crish."
Baal laughed.
"You may not have noticed, but we've been watching you since the moment he was revived."
His voice dripped with mockery.
"And in his current state? He's powerless."
"He can do nothing but cry like a baby."
Baal burst into laughter.
"Hard to believe he was once called the Ruler of Three Worlds."
"The ruler who was defeated."
"Killed."
"Hahahahahaha—!"
Saigo snapped.
"Keep my lord's name out of your filthy mouth, you bastard!"
He launched forward—katana drawn.
Wind magic wrapped around him, compressing the air itself into countless invisible blades, ripping toward Baal in a storm meant to annihilate everything.
Baal didn't even blink.
He canceled Saigo's magic with a flick of his will.
Then—
Stopped the katana with one finger.
Baal sighed.
"…Disappointing."
"You haven't grown at all."
"You are no longer worthy of the title 'Demon Sword.'"
Saigo's body trembled with fury.
"What do you want with our princess?"
"If you want a fight, come for us!"
His voice cracked with resolve.
"Even if I'm weaker than you—
Even if I can't win—
Even if I die—"
"I will not let you touch her!"
Baal tilted his head.
"Such loyalty."
Then he smiled.
"But you're nothing more than a toy to me."
"I could end you without moving my legs from this spot."
Saigo stepped forward.
"You really think I'll let you pass?"
"I would rather die."
His voice dropped to a whisper.
"…Than let you touch her."
The air exploded.
"Sword's Judgment—
Slicing Blade of God."
Darkness and light collided around Saigo.
White, razor-thin currents of divine air spiraled violently as ancient power erupted from his body—
A technique he hadn't used since the Great War a thousand years ago.
His most broken move.
His forbidden blade.
Baal's eyes widened—just a fraction.
"…Ah."
"I had almost forgotten."
"You were the first God's Sword."
"Blessed by those detestable gods."
He laughed.
"But my dear… you are no longer at your peak."
"Even this won't save you."
"And remember—
The more you use that power…"
"…the less you'll be able to wield it again."
Saigo smirked.
"Then why are you stepping back?"
"Talking big, but scared?"
"Did I remind you of something?"
He raised his sword—
Half black.
Half white.
Two opposing auras raging along its edge.
"Any memories come flooding back when you see this blade?"
"You coward—don't you dare run!"
Baal laughed calmly.
"Run?"
"From you?"
He gestured lazily behind Saigo.
"Why don't you look around?"
Saigo's eyes widened.
"My soldiers are already past you."
"And your commanders?"
"They're barely standing."
"They never stood a chance."
Baal smiled darkly.
"This battlefield… was decided before you even drew your sword."
To Be Continued…