A Prince Forgiven

Chapter 24

POV: Rossweisse

[February 5, 2006] 

6:30 PM

“Is everyone ready?” Rossweisse asked, carefully examining the group she had been entrusted to lead.

“Let’s go, we’re ready,” Tobio Ikuse, who had now become her king’s only Knight, replied with a determined expression etched firmly onto his face.

They were good people, Rossweisse thought with quiet satisfaction as her gaze moved across each of them one by one. 

She looked first toward Kouki Samejima, who had been reincarnated as the Queen piece of the second prince and who, much to the amusement of nearly everyone in the group, had spent the last several days relentlessly teased by Lavinia and Natsume for receiving such an excessively feminine piece. Even now, the boy was biting his lip in anticipation while trying to maintain some semblance of dignity.

Her eyes shifted toward the remaining three, and the contrast between their expressions spoke volumes. Natsume looked visibly nervous, which was entirely understandable considering she had only learned about the supernatural world barely a month ago and was now preparing to infiltrate the hidden stronghold of an organization composed of murderers, cultists, and mad scientists. 

Leonardo, meanwhile, looked completely unconcerned, casually sucking on a lollipop with the same detached expression he always wore, as though this entire operation were nothing more than a mildly entertaining game to him. Kuroka appeared equally calm, although unlike Leonardo, her composure carried the sharpened confidence of someone who had survived far worse situations before and no longer allowed fear to show on her face.

“Remember what we discussed,” Rossweisse repeated once more, her voice turning noticeably firmer as she looked directly at each of them. “The moment we reach the Agency’s main base, you will witness things far worse than anything you can presently imagine. What those people have done to their victims goes beyond simple cruelty. Many of the captives have suffered for weeks, perhaps even months, under experimentation and torture carried out by men who abandoned every shred of morality long ago. Some of what you see may anger you. Some of it may horrify you. You may even encounter friends or loved ones in conditions that test the limits of your composure.”

She paused briefly, ensuring every single one of them was listening carefully before continuing.

“However, you cannot allow yourselves to lose control. Panic, rage, grief, all of those emotions will only make you hesitate at the worst possible moment. If you wish to save your friends, then you must remain levelheaded no matter what happens. Every plan we have prepared during the last several days depends entirely on your ability to think clearly under pressure. If any of you lose yourselves in the middle of the operation, then all of our preparation will amount to nothing.”

They nodded gravely at her words. Rossweisse liked them immensely, which honestly did not surprise her in the slightest. How could she not admire people willing to risk their lives for others?

She had been raised from childhood as a Valkyrie of Odin, molded beneath the ancient ideals of Norse honor, camaraderie, and the sacred duty shared between warriors who fought side by side. From the moment she could walk, she had been taught the ideals of camaraderie, sacrifice, courage, and honor. The halls of Valhalla were filled with stories glorifying warriors who died protecting their comrades, and young Valkyries like her had those ideals carved deeply into their hearts until they became inseparable from their very identity.

Even now, despite everything she had witnessed throughout her life,  some part of her still clung stubbornly to those romantic images of what a true warrior ought to be. A protector. A shield for others. Someone who endured hardship so that others would not have to.

Perhaps foolishly so. 

Those same principles had ultimately led her to sacrifice herself during that disastrous mission, throwing her broken body against impossible odds merely to buy enough time for her comrades to escape. She still remembered the agony vividly. She remembered the sensation of her limbs being severed. She remembered lying helplessly upon the frozen earth, unable to move, unable even to scream properly anymore as death slowly crept closer with every passing second. She had not feared death in those final moments because she believed she had fulfilled her duty as a Valkyrie properly.

By all rights, she should have died there.

If not for the coincidental arrival of her king, she would have faded away as nothing more than another forgotten Valkyrie buried beneath the snow.

Even now, Rossweisse still struggled to fully understand why he had bothered saving her at all. Meruem had come there originally to claim the inheritance of Satan Beelzebub.  She had been utterly worthless in that moment. Broken. Defeated. A mutilated woman barely clinging to life. Yet her king had used his [Queen piece] without the slightest hesitation, reincarnating her as she lay limbless and dying before him. A Queen piece is the strongest and most valuable piece in an Evil Piece set. He had spent it on someone as insignificant as her despite gaining absolutely nothing from doing so. 

That single action had changed her entire life.

However, her virtuous and chivalrous upbringing did not mean she was naive enough to ignore the ugliness of the world. Rossweisse was not blind to the darker aspects of her king’s nature. 

Even if she had once possessed any lingering delusions regarding the morality of devils, the sight of Meruem burning Dimora and the traitors alive would have shattered them instantly. The screams of those men still lingered vividly within her memories. The sheer brutality with which her king dealt with betrayal had revealed a side of him that was terrifying in ways words struggled to properly describe.

A person’s true nature revealed itself most clearly in how they treated those who opposed them, especially defeated enemies who no longer possessed the power to resist. By that measure, Meruem could never be called a good man in the conventional sense. There existed something deeply monstrous within him, something violent, and profoundly demonic that surfaced whenever he was pushed far enough.

At times, Rossweisse genuinely believed her king stood perpetually balanced upon a razor-thin line between becoming a great man or a complete monster.

And yet, despite all of that, she could never bring herself to fear him completely. Because she had also seen the man hidden beneath those darker instincts.

Meruem constantly walked a narrow line between his demonic nature and the better person she knew he was capable of becoming. The tragedy of it all was that the world rarely allowed him the luxury of remaining that better man for long. Circumstances, enemies, betrayal, and the endless violence surrounding him continuously dragged him toward brutality, forcing him to embrace the very monstrosity others already believed him to be.

Still, she had seen undeniable proof of the goodness that existed within him.

She saw it when he saved her life despite gaining absolutely nothing from doing so. She saw it again when he rescued Kuroka from the miserable existence of a stray devil hunted endlessly by the Underworld, offering the nekoshou a home and protection when nobody else would.

She saw it when he stood before Sirzechs Lucifer himself and argued on Kuroka’s behalf simply because he had promised her safety. She saw it when he freed Valerie Tepes from an eternity of imprisonment and isolation, then went far beyond simple obligation to ensure the lonely vampire girl felt welcomed, comfortable, and loved within their household.

Of course, Rossweisse was not foolish enough to believe her king acted out of pure altruism. Meruem always has an ulterior motive. There was always another agenda hidden beneath his actions, another scheme quietly unfolding behind his composed smile.

But his ambitions never benefited him alone.

Those who served him gained protection, purpose, strength, and belonging in equal measure. Meruem invested himself completely in the people he considered his own, and Rossweisse knew with absolute certainty that her king would stand behind every member of his peerage no matter the cost. Whether facing devils, fallen angels, gods, or the entirety of the Underworld, Meruem would never abandon them.

That unwavering certainty was precisely why her loyalty toward him had become so absolute.

Her gaze drifted toward Leonardo, and she suppressed a small wince.

The boy appeared entirely unaffected by the nervous atmosphere surrounding them, lazily twirling the lollipop between his fingers with infuriating nonchalance. Anyone observing him from afar would struggle to believe they were preparing to infiltrate a facility filled with human experimentation, torture victims, and dangerous extremists.

Rossweisse disliked him immensely, and despite her repeated attempts to be fair toward him, she simply could not bring herself to trust him.

There was something deeply wrong with Leonardo.

The wielder of [Annihilation Maker] possessed almost no restraint whatsoever, and the way he casually discussed horrifying subjects made her skin crawl at times. Rossweisse feared that his influence would encourage her king to embrace the more violent and predatory aspects of his nature. Leonardo never seemed disturbed by cruelty. If anything, he often appeared fascinated by it.

And Rossweisse was far from the only person uncomfortable around him.

Kuroka also was also visibly wary whenever Leonardo lingered nearby, although the nekoshou usually tried hiding it behind her playful demeanor. Valerie, meanwhile, treated him kindly just as she treated everyone else in the household, though that honestly meant very little considering Valerie seemed fundamentally incapable of disliking another living being.

That was precisely why Rossweisse had been so relieved when her king chose to reincarnate Tobio Ikuse and Natsume Minagawa.

They were good-hearted people. Decent people.

The kind of people who would naturally pull Meruem toward the better version of himself that Rossweisse desperately wanted to believe in. She truly believed the people surrounding a person eventually shaped them over time, and so she prayed that individuals like Tobio and Natsume would help tilt the balance within her king’s heart further toward compassion rather than cruelty.

Meruem undoubtedly possessed some deeper agenda here, one Rossweisse herself still could not fully comprehend, but even so, the simple fact remained that he had chosen to help these people when ignoring them would have been far easier.

To Rossweisse, that alone spoke volumes about the kind of man he truly was beneath everything else.

“I will activate the teleportation circle now, alright?” she asked gently, offering the group a reassuring smile.

After confirming that everyone was prepared, Rossweisse began casting the teleportation spell beneath their feet.

Kazuhisa Doumon had revealed an enormous amount of information regarding the Agency and its operatives during his interrogation. According to him, the organization’s primary headquarters existed within a massive pocket dimension hidden somewhere deep inside the Dimensional Gap, which further reinforced the likelihood that at least one high-ranking Fallen Angel was directly involved with supporting the Agency from the shadows. Doumon had also informed them of the locations where the majority of the Agency’s military forces and the followers of Mikaboshi’s cult were stationed throughout the pocket dimension.

Fortunately, the central research facility housing the Utsusemi project was positioned a fair distance away from the Agency’s primary defensive forces.

Because of that, Meruem had divided their forces into two separate groups in order to maximize efficiency during the rescue operation. Rossweisse had been assigned command over this team tasked with infiltrating the research headquarters and rescuing the captives, while her king, accompanied by  the Witch of Grauzauberer and Valerie Tepes, would directly engage the main combat forces of the Agency alongside the cultists loyal to the dark god.

…

They arrived at their destination as the star of Beleth slowly faded from the teleportation circle surrounding them, the golden light dissolving into countless particles of demonic energy before disappearing entirely into the air.  

Rossweisse felt the strange texture of the pocket dimension pressing against her senses at once. Artificial dimensions always carried an unnatural sensation that differed greatly from the natural world, though this particular one had been crafted with considerable care.

Towering trees stretched endlessly across the landscape around them, their thick emerald canopies intertwining high above like a vast green ocean suspended over the earth. Countless flowers of every imaginable color bloomed beneath the trees in carefully maintained clusters, their sweet fragrance drifting softly through the cool evening air. Crystal clear streams wound through the forest floor while rays of artificial sunlight filtered gently between the leaves, bathing the entire dimension in a tranquil golden glow. The scenery looked almost painfully picturesque, resembling the idealized paintings nobles loved displaying in their estates.

That peaceful beauty only made the reality hidden beneath it feel far more grotesque. A place dedicated to torture and human experimentation should not have looked this serene.

Kuroka immediately stepped forward and cast a concealment spell over the entire group, layers of carefully woven senjutsu spreading around them like an invisible veil before blending perfectly into the surrounding environment. 

Rossweisse felt the quality of the spell instantly and gave a small nod of approval toward the playful nekoshou. Kuroka far surpassed her when it came to stealth and concealment techniques, especially within natural terrain like this, so Rossweisse entrusted the matter entirely to her without hesitation.

“Is that their headquarters?” Kouki asked quietly, pointing toward the massive structure looming in the distance.

“It must be,” Rossweisse replied as she began walking toward the building with measured steps. “Kazuhisa Doumon described it as the tallest white building in the entire pocket dimension, a massive facility resembling a hospital complex surrounded by several smaller buildings. This is the only building here that matches his description.” 

The headquarters towered over the forest, its polished white exterior standing in stark contrast against the sea of green surrounding it. The main building possessed a cold and clinical design, with enormous reinforced windows covering its surface while dozens of smaller buildings surrounded it in a circular formation like defensive outposts protecting the center. The entire thing looked like a medical research facility designed by someone completely devoid of warmth or humanity.

“The smaller buildings are probably where their emergency combat forces are stationed,” Natsume said nervously while eyeing the surrounding structures.

“There’s no doubt about it,” Kouki replied as he hurried after Rossweisse. “By the way, is it really alright for us to speak this loudly?”

“Don’t worry about it nya,” Kuroka answered proudly while placing her hands behind her head. “Nobody here is going to see through my concealment techniques. Still, it’s better to be safe than sorry, so keep your voices down a little alright?☆ ”

The group nodded in agreement before continuing forward in silence.

They entered the massive building without attracting attention, slipping past the front entrance unseen while the guards remained completely oblivious to their presence. Rossweisse immediately frowned the moment they entered.

The security was far lighter than she expected.

For one of the Agency’s primary facilities, especially the building supposedly responsible for conducting the majority of their experiments, the internal defenses felt strangely insufficient. There were guards stationed throughout the corridors, surveillance systems hidden carefully within the walls, and magical formations engraved subtly into the floors and ceilings, yet none of it approached the level of paranoia Rossweisse would have expected from an organization involved in crimes of this magnitude.

The realization unsettled her greatly…

Perhaps they believed the pocket dimension itself served as sufficient protection and therefore saw little need to waste manpower on internal defenses. The location certainly would have been impossible to discover under normal circumstances without information from an insider like Doumon.

Even so, Rossweisse disliked the feeling immensely.

Something about the atmosphere felt wrong. The sterile white hallways were too quiet. The guards appeared too relaxed. The entire facility carried the eerie stillness of a predator pretending to sleep while waiting for prey to lower its guard. Every instinct developed throughout years of combat and survival screamed at her that something was off.

Eventually they arrived at the stairwell.

Using the elevators would have been idiotic since it could immediately reveal their location through the building’s monitoring systems, so the group began climbing the endless flights of stairs in tense silence. Their footsteps echoed softly throughout the enclosed stairwell as floor after floor passed beneath them.

The climb itself posed no physical challenge due to their supernatural bodies, though the atmosphere steadily grew heavier with every passing minute. Natsume’s nervousness became increasingly obvious the higher they climbed, her breathing turning slightly uneven despite the lack of physical exhaustion. Kouki remained tense and alert, constantly glancing around as though expecting enemies to burst through the walls at any moment. Tobio maintained his composure far better than the others, though Rossweisse could still sense the anxiety hidden beneath his determined expression.

Leonardo, meanwhile, looked bored.

After several minutes of climbing, they finally reached the eighth floor.

Rossweisse raised a hand, silently signaling everyone to stop before carefully examining the state of her companions. As expected, none of them appeared physically tired in the slightest. Devil bodies possessed stamina far beyond ordinary humans.

The psychological pressure filling the air was another matter entirely.

“Is everyone clear regarding the details of the plan?” she asked one final time. 

They had spent the last five days planning and preparing for this operation relentlessly, though Rossweisse still wanted absolute certainty before proceeding. Her king had entrusted this mission to her personally, and she would deliver nothing less than perfection. 

“Leonardo will quickly destroy the Utsusemi monsters using his creatures,” Tobio answered immediately. “While he’s doing that, you will create a direct portal capable of transporting the victims somewhere safe the moment their bonded monsters are eliminated. Kuroka, Kouki, and I will intercept anyone attempting to interfere with the evacuation process, while Natsume stays by your side to protect you while you maintain the portal. Once the civilians are evacuated safely, we destroy the entire facility.”

Rossweisse nodded in satisfaction.

The plan itself was relatively straightforward. As her king repeatedly stated during their preparations, there was little value in creating overly complicated strategies dependent on countless unpredictable variables aligning perfectly. Simple plans that can be adapted were far more reliable.

The truly difficult aspect was the evacuation itself.

Devil teleportation circles only functioned for members connected directly to the House of Beleth, which meant transporting potentially hundreds of ordinary humans required an entirely different method. Fortunately, Rossweisse’s heritage as a Valkyrie and half-god granted her access to divine transportation magic capable of temporarily bridging dimensions. However, maintaining a portal large enough to evacuate over five hundred non-magical humans would require her complete concentration, leaving her almost entirely defenseless throughout the process.

“And you, Leonardo,” Rossweisse said while turning toward the silver haired boy. “Your task is simple. Destroy the nuclei of the Utsusemi creatures as quickly and precisely as possible. The core is located either within the heart or the brain depending on the mutation stage of the monster. Focus exclusively on the parasites themselves and avoid harming the human hosts under any circumstances. The moment the parasite dies, the host body will lose consciousness naturally. Understand?”

“Stop nagging me already,” Leonardo complained irritably while glaring at her. “You’ve repeated the exact same thing for five straight days. I’m not an idiot. If you keep treating me like one, I might start doing the opposite purely out of spite.”

Rossweisse remained silent.

She did not truly fear that Leonardo would intentionally kill the victims. The boy feared and respected Meruem far too much to directly disobey an order carrying this level of importance.

That did not mean he was harmless.

Leonardo possessed countless ways to create unnecessary suffering if he truly became irritated enough, and Rossweisse desperately wished to avoid that possibility. As second in command of the peerage, maintaining discipline among the members fell partially upon her shoulders. Failing to properly control someone as volatile as Leonardo reflected poorly upon her leadership.

“Guys, this isn’t the best time to argue,” Tobio said nervously while forcing out an awkward chuckle after noticing the tense silence between Rossweisse and Leonardo. 

“You’re all unbelievably annoying,” Leonardo muttered while staring at each of them without the slightest trace of intimidation. “Actually, I’m already tired of climbing stairs. I’ll just fly the rest of the way.”

Without waiting for permission or any response, black wings erupted from his back before he immediately shot upward through the stairwell. 

“Wait!”

Rossweisse and Kuroka shouted simultaneously.

Too late.

BEEP!

A deafening alarm suddenly exploded throughout the entire facility as crimson warning lights flooded every hallway and corridor.

Rossweisse froze in disbelief for a brief moment before frustration surged violently through her chest.

Unbelievable!

Five days of planning and preparation went down the drain in a blink of an eye because a spoiled boy incapable of accepting being told no decided to throw a childish tantrum.

This exact scenario was why Rossweisse originally wanted either Valerie or Lavinia assigned to her group instead of Leonardo. She already knew he would never properly listen to her authority no matter how reasonable her instructions were. Her king, however, had insisted upon placing Leonardo within her team due to the necessity of [Annihilation Maker] for the operation.

Rossweisse had truly tried her best to be fair toward the boy despite her personal feelings. In the end, it accomplished absolutely nothing.

Leonardo simply did whatever pleased him. Her frustration burned intensely within her chest as the consequences of Leonardo’s recklessness unfolded around them almost instantly. 

Hundreds of doors throughout every floor burst open simultaneously as heavily armed personnel flooded the hallways in perfectly coordinated formations. Mages, mercenaries, and modified soldiers rapidly surrounded every possible route while magical weapons of countless varieties activated throughout the building. 

Rossweisse’s expression darkened further when she noticed black feathered wings filling the air outside the stairwell windows.

Fallen Angels…

And not weak ones either.

There were dozens of them. More importantly, she counted at least six individuals possessing six wings each, which meant six high class combatants with natural racial advantages against devils.

This was bad.

Very bad.

Doumon never mentioned Fallen Angels being stationed directly inside the main headquarters itself, let alone operating openly alongside the Agency’s personnel. Rossweisse’s mind immediately began piecing together the implications.

Despite the cynical opinions her beloved king voiced regarding Azazel, Rossweisse knew Meruem deliberately exaggerated the Governor General’s flaws in order to distance Tobio and the others from the Grigori’s influence. Azazel possessed many questionable qualities, but he would never permit Fallen Angels under his command to openly participate in operations like this.

The political consequences alone would be catastrophic if discovered…Which meant only one possibility remained.

Someone within the Grigori was operating independently behind Azazel’s back. And for that individual to disregard the risk of discovery so casually, they would need enough personal power and authority to not fear Azazel’s retaliation even if exposed. 

Azazel himself was a twelve winged angel, being a former Seraph before he fell. There was only one other Fallen Angel in existence who shared that status. Rossweisse’s stomach tightened immediately upon reaching that conclusion. 

Around them, hundreds of weapons were raised simultaneously while the Fallen Angels formed attack formations overhead, each gripping brilliant spears of holy light capable of tearing through devil flesh with terrifying efficiency.

In the middle of it all, Leonardo floated calmly in the air while lazily staring at the armed forces surrounding them as though none of this chaos had anything to do with him.

“What do we do now?” Tobio asked seriously while his shadow expanded beneath him, allowing the black hound to emerge with low growls rumbling from its throat.

“We have been expecting you,” a voice suddenly echoed throughout the building from hidden speakers embedded within the walls. The voice sounded calm, cultured, and deeply self assured. “I would strongly advise against making any reckless movements. My personnel have been ordered to attack immediately if any of you attempt resistance. Stand down peacefully, and the people you came here to rescue will remain unharmed.”

“Who said we came here to save anyone?” Kuroka asked with a playful grin.

“Let us avoid wasting time with childish games,” the voice replied smoothly, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. “Did you truly believe we would fail to discover your identities, Tobio Ikuse, Kouki Samejima, and Natsume Minagawa? You appear surprised. I assure you, our organization conducts its research very thoroughly. I imagine you must be very curious regarding the current condition of your friends and perhaps even more curious about how exactly we learned you were coming here in the first place.” 

Rossweisse remained silent while carefully analyzing the situation. The others, with the exception of Kuroka, appeared visibly shocked that the Agency knew their names at all.

Foolish children. Why were they so surprised that they knew their names?

It would not have been remotely difficult for an organization with the Agency’s resources to connect the disappearance of several students from a cruise incident with the handful of surviving individuals now moving suspiciously afterward. Investigating their identities would have been trivial. 

Their knowledge remained entirely within reasonable expectations. The truly important detail was what they did not know.

Whoever was speaking clearly did not know her identity. Nor did they recognize either Kuroka or Leonardo. That omission revealed far more than the threats themselves. Their enemy possessed information regarding Tobio’s group due to their connection to the cruise incident, though they clearly lacked detailed intelligence regarding Meruem’s peerage.

Which meant the Agency still did not fully understand who they were dealing with.

“I admit I am somewhat curious,” Rossweisse replied calmly while buying time to think.

“Excellent,” the voice answered pleasantly. “Then I assume you’re not opposed to accompanying us peacefully so that we may discuss matters properly like civilized people?"

Rossweisse slowly glanced around the stairwell.

Hundreds of soldiers surrounded them from the lowest visible floors all the way to the upper levels, every single one prepared to attack instantly at the slightest sign of hostility. Holy spears illuminated the air while magical targeting arrays locked onto their positions from every direction.

A tired chuckle escaped her lips. “This is your idea of a peaceful discussion?” she asked with faint amusement.

“To be fair, you did attempt to infiltrate my facility,” the voice replied with an amused tone of its own. “Surely you understand why my personnel might feel somewhat nervous under the circumstances. Nevertheless, you seem far more reasonable than most devils I have encountered, and I would sincerely prefer avoiding unnecessary bloodshed tonight. Therefore, I propose a simple compromise. Come upstairs willingly so that we may speak face to face. You have my personal word that none of you will suffer harm during our discussion provided you refrain from suspicious behavior.”

Rossweisse narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. The repeated emphasis upon her identity as a devil revealed quite a lot.

Whoever this man was, he clearly did not wish to risk killing devils whose affiliations remained unknown. Organizations like the Agency survived through secrecy above all else. Accidentally murdering devils connected to one of the major noble houses of the Underworld could potentially attract scrutiny from powers vastly beyond their ability to handle.

This invitation therefore had very little to do with genuine diplomacy.

The man simply wanted information before deciding whether killing them was worth the risk.

What should I do? Rossweisse silently examined the overwhelming forces surrounding them. Do I truly need to use that?

The mere thought made her stomach tighten. Using that technique inside the facility would annihilate everything within the surrounding area instantly, including the very civilians they came here to rescue. Even her own allies would struggle to survive the resulting destruction. Kuroka and Leonardo might possibly endure it due to their abnormal abilities, though relying upon that possibility would be dangerously irresponsible.

Which meant she had little choice except to cooperate for the moment.  Rossweisse glanced briefly toward the clock attached to her wrist - 6:47 PM. 

Her master should have already finished eliminating the Agency’s primary combat forces by now…

After making her decision, Rossweisse silently activated the emergency mental signal specifically designed for situations exactly like this and sent it directly toward Meruem.

“We accept,” she said calmly while placing absolute faith in her king’s ability to resolve whatever obstacle stood before him.

“Wonderful,” the voice replied cheerfully. “Takumi, please escort our honored guests to me.”

A group of twelve masked soldiers approached them shortly afterward, surrounding them carefully in a tight formation while one of them, seemingly the leader, stepped forward slightly before motioning for them to follow without speaking another word. 

Rossweisse quietly observed the others as they complied without resistance. Even Leonardo followed calmly without the slightest trace of fear or concern visible upon his face, which honestly only irritated her further considering the current situation existed entirely because of him. 

The soldiers escorted them deep into the facility through a series of heavily guarded hallways before finally arriving before an enormous metallic door large enough for a giant to pass through comfortably. Several magical formations glowed faintly across its white surface while layers upon layers of sealing techniques covered every inch of it.

One of the guards stepped forward before slicing his finger open carefully.

A single drop of blood fell against the center of the gate. Immediately the entire door glowed crimson as the magical formations activated simultaneously, the massive structure trembling slightly before slowly opening inward with a low mechanical groan.

The moment Rossweisse stepped inside, her eyes narrowed sharply.

The chamber beyond was huge. An immense white hall stretched endlessly before them, its polished floors reflecting the sterile light pouring down from the ceiling above. The walls were equally pristine, so unnaturally clean that the entire room resembled a surgical chamber designed by someone obsessed with perfection. Hundreds of soldiers filled the massive space in organized formations, many of them the very same personnel who had surrounded them earlier throughout the building.

But they were not the only ones present.

Scattered throughout the chamber stood numerous young men and women dressed in ordinary student uniforms, each accompanied by gigantic monstrous creatures standing silently beside them. Some resembled grotesque beasts assembled from mismatched animal parts while others looked vaguely humanoid with distorted limbs and unnatural eyes glowing ominously within the white chamber.

Rossweisse turned toward Tobio, Kouki, and Natsume and immediately saw all three clench their fists tightly upon seeing the students. The expressions upon their faces made it painfully obvious that they recognized them. Those students, however, merely stared back at them emotionlessly with hollow eyes devoid of warmth, standing beside their monstrous companions like puppets whose strings had long ago been cut.

A suffocating wave of bloodlust filled the chamber. The killing intent radiating from the countless Utsusemi creatures, Agency soldiers, and Fallen Angels pressed heavily against the air, creating an atmosphere so tense that it almost became physically difficult to breathe.

Standing calmly at the very center of the chamber, surrounded protectively by the six six-winged Fallen Angels from earlier, was a middle-aged man dressed immaculately in a black three-piece suit beneath a pristine doctor’s coat.

“Welcome to the headquarters of the Utsusemi Agency,” the man spoke smoothly, and Rossweisse immediately recognized him as the same individual who had been speaking through the intercom system earlier. “Allow me to introduce myself properly. My name is Himejima Hanezu, current director of the Utsusemi Agency.”

Click!

One of the six-winged Fallen Angels, a voluptuous woman with dark hair and a mocking smile, casually clicked the pen in her hand with deliberate obnoxiousness, repeatedly pressing it in the same irritating manner delinquent students used to disrupt classrooms intentionally.

“Sae!” Tobio suddenly called out in shock. “Sae, it’s me! Tobio!”

Rossweisse glanced toward the girl in question carefully. The girl had a brown hair and striking green eyes while several Buddhist prayer beads wrapped around one of her arms. Standing beside her was her bonded Utsusemi creature, which took the form of a gigantic black-maned lion whose glowing eyes remained locked onto Tobio with predatory stillness.

“She can’t hear you, Tobio Ikuse,” Himejima Hanezu replied casually. “Or perhaps I should say Tobio Himejima?”

Click!

Rossweisse blinked in surprise. The boy was a Himejima?

Her king had not informed her of that detail.

“It’s rather fascinating, isn’t it?” Hanezu continued pleasantly. “Your grandmother, Aega Himejima, was exiled from the clan for practicing Buddhist magic, an unforgivable blasphemy according to the standards of the Five Principal Clans. And now here you are, her grandson, born carrying a Sacred Gear, a divine artifact originating from an entirely different pantheon altogether.” His smile widened faintly. “According to the standards of the clans, you are doubly tainted. Twice rejected. Tobio Himejima, how does it feel to be condemned for circumstances entirely beyond your control? How does it feel knowing your own blood discarded you before you were even given the chance to choose your path?”

“Nothing,” Tobio answered fiercely without hesitation. “My name is Tobio Ikuse, not Himejima. I don’t care what those people think about me.” His eyes narrowed sharply. “Is that why you’re doing all of this? For revenge?”

“Do you know why we call ourselves Utsusemi?” Hanezu asked instead while calmly adjusting his glasses. “The term refers to the discarded shell left behind by a cicada, something hollow and abandoned after serving its purpose.Most of us gathered here were born into families possessing divine bloodlines and sacred legacies stretching back centuries. Yet we ourselves failed to inherit those blessings. According to the Five Principal Clans, individuals like us were never truly human to begin with. We were defective creatures. Failures. Heretics unworthy of acknowledgment.”

“Isn’t it amusing?” Hanezu continued softly. “The value of a human life is decided entirely by whether some distant indifferent god happened to bless you at birth with supernatural talent. Those who inherit power are celebrated while those born ordinary are treated as filth…We gathered here so that the Five Principal Clans may finally burn alongside the rotten traditions they uphold. Join us, Tobio Ikuse. Together we can destroy the same people who cast aside your grandmother and condemned your family.”

“You seriously expect me to join you after what you did to my friends?!” Tobio shouted in disbelief. “I don’t care about your revenge or your hatred toward the clans! You’re no better than the people you claim to hate! The moment you started dragging innocent people into this madness, you lost any right to call yourselves victims!”

“A pity, that,” Hanezu replied calmly, sounding entirely unsurprised.

Click!

“Hey, crow,” Leonardo suddenly said irritably while glaring at the Fallen Angel woman. “Stop clicking the damn pen already. It’s annoying.”

The suffocating tension inside the chamber briefly faltered because of Leonardo’s casual interruption. The Fallen Angel woman smirked openly at him.

“And what if I don’t?” she asked wickedly while clicking the pen once more. “What exactly are you going to do about it?”

Rossweisse immediately felt dread settling inside her stomach. Once again, Leonardo’s antisocial tendencies were threatening to ruin everything.

I am absolutely speaking with Master about this once this mission is over, she thought furiously. What exactly is wrong with this child? The moment her king is not physically present to restrain him, he immediately starts searching for excuses to lash out violently.

“Do it one more time and you’ll find out,” Leonardo replied coldly.

“Sabine, please refrain from antagonizing our guests while we are attempting to have a conversation,” Hanezu stated more firmly this time.

Sabine merely smirked at him lazily, though she refrained from clicking the pen again for the moment.

“How did you know we were coming?” Rossweisse asked calmly while subtly giving Leonardo a warning glance demanding he stop provoking them further.

“We investigated, naturally,” Hanezu answered casually. “Did you truly believe we would ignore an assault upon one of our facilities? Kazuhisa Doumon and the two Heaven Reavers assigned beside him vanished without leaving corpses behind, which meant the most logical conclusion was that they had been captured alive.” 

He folded his hands behind his back thoughtfully. “And if they were captured alive, then it naturally followed that information regarding this dimension might eventually be extracted from them despite our precautions. We simply prepared accordingly.”

His eyes then shifted toward Leonardo.

“Truthfully, you may very well have infiltrated the building successfully had this young man not flown directly into the range of our detection systems. Still, your ability to enter the headquarters undetected until that point was truly impressive.” His gaze shifted toward Kuroka thoughtfully. “I assume we have that yokai beside you to thank for that accomplishment.” 

“What makes you so certain I’m the one responsible?” Kuroka asked with a playful grin.

“Because our detection systems were designed personally by yokai allied with our organization,” Hanezu explained calmly. “It utilizes Youjutsu-based sensory techniques capable of identifying any presence not registered as a member of the Agency.”

Kuroka blinked in genuine surprise. “You actually got yokai to cooperate with you?”

“The Five Principal Clans have created far more enemies than most people realize,” Hanezu replied pleasantly.

A tense silence descended afterward. Neither side seemed interested in speaking further while the atmosphere inside the chamber grew increasingly oppressive with every passing second. Rossweisse carefully observed the countless soldiers surrounding them from every angle.

If the Fallen Angels were absent, then she, Kuroka, and Leonardo could have annihilated everyone present with relative ease. Even the six-winged Fallen Angels themselves were not impossible opponents. 

The problem was time.

A single moment of distraction would allow the enemy forces to harm Tobio, Kouki, or Natsume before the stronger members of their group finished dealing with the primary threats. 

Rossweisse quietly glanced toward Leonardo again in hopes that he would not do something unbelievably reckless. Unfortunately, his gaze remained fixed entirely upon Sabine, who was still holding the pen provocatively between her fingers.

Click!

The sound sliced through the suffocating silence like a knife through butter. Rossweisse immediately turned toward Leonardo with growing horror. He wouldn’t fall for this obvious provocation right?!

Please tell me he was bluffing earlier! Surely nobody could actually be this absurdly short-tempered.

“I warned you,” Leonardo said simply.

And then everything exploded into chaos. Rossweisse could not fully process what exactly triggered the next sequence of events because it all unfolded within less than a second.

One instant Leonardo stood there calmly. The next, twelve monstrous shadows erupted violently from beneath his feet like living nightmares crawling upward from the abyss itself. The creatures launched themselves toward Sabine with horrifying speed while chaos simultaneously erupted throughout the chamber.

At the exact same time, screams erupted throughout the chamber. Rossweisse initially thought the soldiers were shouting battle cries. Then she realized the sounds were screams of terror. Because shadow creatures were emerging from their shadows as well.

Everything seemed to slow down around her. She watched in crystal-clear detail as black clawed limbs burst upward from the darkness beneath countless soldiers. She saw horrified expressions twist across their faces as monstrous jaws wrapped around throats and ripped flesh apart in sprays of blood. Some had their necks torn open instantly while others were dragged screaming into pools of shadow beneath their own feet. 

The entire sequence unfolded within less than a heartbeat. Then the chamber erupted completely. Agency soldiers charged forward wildly with swords, spears, and magical weapons raised high while dozens of magic circles illuminated the air simultaneously before unleashing torrents of elemental attacks toward them.

One soldier beside Rossweisse attempted to raise his spear only for a shadow beast to emerge directly beneath him and split his lower jaw apart with enough force to rip half his face away instantly. Another mage began chanting a spell before black tendrils pierced upward through his chest from below, lifting him briefly into the air while blood poured endlessly from his mouth.

Sabine herself barely managed to react before three shadow monsters slammed into her simultaneously like starving predators.

All hell broke loose.

Attacks surged toward them from every direction at once.

Rossweisse instantly dodged a blade aimed directly toward her throat before casually slapping the attacker across the side of his head with enough force to sever it completely from his body in a single motion. Blood exploded outward across the white floor while additional soldiers rushed her immediately afterward.

Around her, Kuroka and the others immediately engaged the attackers as complete pandemonium consumed the chamber from every direction. 

Leonardo himself had completely vanished from sight. Rossweisse tore through approaching attackers effortlessly while desperately searching the battlefield for Himejima Hanezu.

Eventually she found him.

The Agency leader stood calmly amidst the unfolding massacre with the same composed expression he had worn earlier, observing the carnage surrounding him with detached disappointment as though he were merely watching a failed experiment unfold before him.

“You violated our agreement regarding peaceful discussion,” Hanezu declared coldly while screams echoed throughout the chamber around him. “Your deaths are now entirely your own responsibility.”

Rossweisse regrouped quickly beside the others, all except Leonardo who remained missing amidst the chaos, while they formed a defensive circle with their backs pressed toward one another in order to avoid surprise attacks from blind spots.

Corpses already littered the pristine white floor in horrifying numbers. Blood spread endlessly across the chamber while mutilated bodies continued collapsing around them. And still the Agency forces continued advancing relentlessly.

Dozens of Fallen Angels suddenly launched enormous volleys of light spears downward toward them simultaneously, the glowing projectiles tearing through the air with terrifying speed while illuminating the entire chamber gold.

Rossweisse immediately prepared a defensive barrier spell. But she never had the chance to cast it. At that exact instant, something crashed violently through the ceiling above them like a falling meteor.

The upper floors exploded apart as concrete, steel, and shattered debris rained downward in every direction while the incoming light spears smashed harmlessly against the falling rubble instead of reaching them. The shockwave alone blasted nearby soldiers backward violently.

Rossweisse instinctively looked upward toward the newcomer. Then she frowned deeply. It was not the person she expected.

She had expected Meruem to arrive after receiving her distress signal. Instead, a blonde-haired woman wearing a witch’s robe and large witch hat descended through the collapsing debris.

Lavinia Reni arrived first and she looked terrified. Rossweisse had not known Lavinia for very long, yet the sheer panic visible upon the witch’s face immediately sent cold dread crawling through her chest.

Countless thoughts erupted through Rossweisse’s mind simultaneously.

Why was Lavinia here alone? She had accompanied Meruem and Valerie earlier. They were supposed to remain together. Then why had Lavinia arrived first? Why had Meruem failed to respond personally?

And most importantly of all. And far more importantly, why did Lavinia look so terrified?

Rossweisse suddenly felt genuine fear gripping her chest for the very first time since entering the facility.

“Meruem is dead!” Lavinia shouted.

The words were so absurd, so utterly impossible, that Rossweisse could only stare at her in stunned disbelief.

“Abandon the mission immediately!” Lavinia continued desperately while genuine terror shook her voice. “I repeat, Meruem is dead! Retreat now!”

And with those words, the entire battlefield descended into complete chaos once more.

……

POV: Meruem

[Pocket Dimension]

6:20 PM

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to interfere while I was recruiting your friends,” Meruem said to the blonde witch of Grauzauberer while they walked through the lush landscape of the pocket dimension. 

“I didn’t do it for free,” Lavinia Reni stated neutrally, keeping her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “We had an agreement, remember?”

“Still, you only needed to avoid actively hindering me,” Meruem replied, glancing at the blonde witch with a faint smile. “You did not need to help me. But you did anyway.”

“Oh?” Lavinia asked, meeting his gaze with a sly little grin. “How exactly did I help you?”

“Well, for one thing, you didn’t have to reveal that the Utsusemi Agency was using Azazel’s research on Sacred Gears,” Meruem said with a casual shrug. “You knew perfectly well that information would emotionally provoke Tobio and the others and make them far more likely to accept my offer. I thought you were working together with Azazel.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like him,” Lavinia replied lightly. “Our agreement with Azazel was one of mutual benefit because joining forces gave us a better chance of dealing with the Agency. But I’m not particularly attached to the Grigori, especially when you were offering me something far more valuable.”

That had been a genuine surprise.

Meruem had expected Lavinia to be less willing to sell out Azazel, given that in the original timeline she had eventually joined a special elite force under the Grigori. Of course, the sequence of events leading to that future had already changed due to his interference, so expecting the same loyalties to form under different conditions would have been foolish.

Besides, the witch before him was far more cunning than the airheaded blonde beauty he remembered from the original timeline. Her soft manner, absentminded expressions, and charming appearance could easily make others underestimate her, though Meruem had already learned better. 

“Will Mr. Pheles be pleased that you abandoned the Grigori’s side so easily?” Meruem asked, probing carefully in the hope of learning more about the elusive devil and the inner workings of Grauzauberer.

“Probably not,” Lavinia admitted without visible concern. “But I made my conditions for participating in this mission extremely clear from the beginning, so he can hardly complain afterward. It’s not my fault that he deliberately refused to explain exactly what exactly he was planning with Azazel beyond giving me vague hints and half-finished explanations.” 

“I wonder what they’re planning,” Meruem said aloud.

The Grigori was fundamentally different from both Heaven and the Underworld in terms of internal politics.

Unlike the devils or angels, who generally functioned as relatively unified political entities despite occasional disagreements, the Fallen Angels operated more like a collection of powerful individuals temporarily forced into coexistence through circumstance. Most Fallen Angels had fallen for entirely personal reasons and therefore pursued wildly different goals afterward. As a result, the Grigori constantly suffered from internal friction, ideological disputes, and power struggles between competing factions.

The primary power bloc was led by Azazel, first among the fallen, who generally attracted those more interested in research, personal obsessions, and ending the cold war between the Three Factions before it consumed what remained of them. His faction was hardly benevolent, but its members tended to prefer survival, experimentation, and political stabilization over open war.

The opposing faction gathered around Satanael, First of the Fallen, whose ideology leaned far more aggressively toward militarism and confrontation.  For one reason or another, many among his followers favored a more aggressive posture toward Heaven, the devils, and even the existing leadership of the Grigori itself. Satanael in particular was said to hate Heaven deeply, and Michael most of all.

The political balance between both factions is also delicate largely because Azazel and Satanael were the only two twelve-winged Fallen Angels currently active within the Grigori. Their equal power created an environment overflowing with hidden schemes, internal sabotage, and political maneuvering between their respective camps.

Meruem strongly suspected the entire affair involving the Utsusemi Agency was just another front in that hidden conflict. Which naturally made him wonder what exactly Mephistopheles hoped to gain by involving himself in the situation.

“With those two scheming together, almost anything is possible,” Lavinia replied quietly before suddenly stopping in place.

Meruem and Valerie halted immediately as well.

“What’s wrong?” Meruem asked, raising an eyebrow despite knowing he would have sensed danger before Lavinia if something hostile had entered the area. 

“I know our agreement was for you to tell me information about my master after this situation was resolved,” Lavinia began slowly, her voice carrying a strangely vulnerable edge. “Still, I went out of my way to help you recruit Tobio and the others when I didn’t have to, as you said. Can you at least confirm one thing for me before then?”

Meruem studied her carefully. “What do you want to know?”

“Is Master Glenda alive?” Lavinia asked quietly while avoiding his gaze altogether. 

Meruem looked at the girl before him in silence.

Lavinia Reni had spent years obsessively searching for traces of the Witch of the South, desperately clinging to the hope that her beloved master still lived somewhere out there waiting to be found. She had no idea that the woman she idolized so completely had willingly abandoned her long ago.

Meruem wondered briefly how Lavinia would react once she eventually learned the truth.

The tragedy of it all was that Glenda had never seen her as a daughter or even a proper disciple. To her Lavinia had simply been a useful resource, a talented Sacred Gear wielder possessing one of the Longinus. That was all.

The moment Glenda extracted enough value from her, she discarded the girl without hesitation and vanished.

Then again, that kind of behavior was completely normal among the witches belonging to the Wizards of Oz. Most of them pursued power and forbidden knowledge with obsessive selfishness regardless of the human cost involved. Loyalty, affection, and morality rarely held meaningful value within their circles.

Unfortunately for Lavinia, she never realized that reality because Glenda carefully manipulated her from childhood onward, positioning herself as both savior and mother figure while gradually shaping Lavinia’s entire emotional world around dependence upon her.

“She is alive,” Meruem confirmed.

Her eyes widened before tears instantly gathered within them despite her obvious attempts to remain composed. Relief flooded across her entire face so powerfully that it almost looked painful, years of uncertainty and desperate searching momentarily dissolving beneath the simple reassurance that her master still existed somewhere.

It was honestly tragic to watch.

Meruem could tell her the full truth immediately if he wished. There simply was no benefit in doing so yet.

“Thank you!” Lavinia whispered shakily before repeating herself several more times. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” 

They continued walking for some time after that, with Lavinia quieter than before and Valerie occasionally glancing at her with gentle concern. Eventually, the trees began thinning, and the picturesque forest gave way to their destination. 

Multiple towering structures rose from the ground like a vast magical military industrial complex embedded into the heart of the artificial dimension. Tall concrete buildings, reinforced laboratories, storage towers, and barracks formed an enormous compound surrounded by layered walls and watchtowers. Magical barriers glowed across the perimeter in overlapping geometric patterns, while a massive protective barrier shimmered faintly over the entire facility like a translucent dome of distorted glass.

An intricate barrier system surrounded the entire compound. Layer after layer of defensive formations overlapped together into a colossal protective dome that distorted the surrounding air itself with immense magical pressure. Countless magical cannons, observation towers, and anti-teleportation arrays were integrated seamlessly throughout the structure while squads of armed personnel patrolled continuously across every visible entrance. 

So this is where the Agency stationed its main fighting force, Meruem thought calmly.

It was considerably larger than he originally expected. Meruem could sense roughly ten thousand individuals scattered throughout the facility, although not all of them were actual combatants. Many signatures belonged to researchers, technicians, and robed cultists almost certainly affiliated with the Cult of Mikaboshi.

At first, Meruem had found it strange that the Agency kept the bulk of its combat forces so far away from the research headquarters responsible for reproducing Independent Avatar type Sacred Gears. It seemed inefficient and strategically vacuous.

Doumon’s explanation had clarified the matter. Apparently this facility contained [Subject Zero], the oldest surviving experiment and the single most important component within the entire Utsusemi research project. 

Unfortunately, Doumon himself had not known who or what Subject Zero truly was. He only knew the entity was immensely powerful, dangerous enough that the Agency stationed the majority of its forces here specifically to prevent its escape.

That had immediately caught Meruem’s interest.

He was, by nature, a curious person. A mysterious entity powerful enough to justify the presence of an entire private army, a cult detachment, and layered dimensional defenses was not something he could simply ignore.

Rossweisse and Kuroka were capable enough to handle the rescue operation at the research headquarters without him hovering over their shoulders. Therefore, Meruem had naturally chosen to investigate the more interesting mystery himself.

“Who goeth there?” A thunderous feminine voice echoed from within the darkness beyond. It rang throughout the chamber like the heavens themselves speaking directly into mortal ears.

“Thy scent does not match the others who usually come here,” the voice continued cautiously. “What are you? Thou art neither a Fallen Angel nor human.” The voice paused briefly. “No… I recognize the air surrounding thee now. Thou art one of my brother’s creations.” The voice sharpened suddenly. “Thou art a devil!” 

Meruem stepped fully into the chamber. Then immediately he froze by what he beheld. Even he, a devil, found himself disturbed by what stood before him.

A pale emaciated woman hung chained against a towering vertical structure positioned at the center of the chamber like some grotesque mockery of a crucifixion altar. Her body looked horrifyingly frail, as though centuries of suffering had slowly stripped away everything except the agony.

Long black hair cascaded messily around her frail body while metallic coverings had been fused grotesquely over the ruined bleeding sockets where her eyes used to be. Fresh blood still dripped steadily beneath the restraints despite however many centuries must have passed since the mutilation occurred. 

Her face was gaunt and hollow with exhaustion. Her skin was covered in countless scars, scratches, burn marks, surgical incisions, and strange dark stains layered over one another endlessly like geological strata recording centuries of torture across flesh instead of stone.

Parts of her body were literally rotting. Her abdomen had been split open grotesquely while sections of her intestines spilled partially outward from the wound. Small bloated rodents fed lazily upon the exposed flesh without fear while dried blood covered the floor beneath her in ancient layers.

Yet none of that was the most horrifying part.

Holy power flooded the chamber endlessly from her body. Meruem felt as though he stood before an ocean composed entirely of divine energy. The pressure pouring from the broken woman was overwhelming beyond belief even in her ruined state.

Behind her extended twelve magnificent white wings. Or rather, what remained of them. Six wings stretched from each side of her back, though they had been utterly destroyed through unimaginable abuse. Blood stained the once pristine feathers dark crimson while countless plumes drifted weakly toward the floor like dying snowflakes. Entire sections of the wings had rotted away completely, leaving only exposed hollow bone where divine feathers once shone brilliantly.

Massive rust colored enchanted chains wrapped across her body tightly. They bound her neck, arms, torso, legs, and wings while forcing her arms outward into a crucified position. Every chain radiated suppressive enchantments specifically designed to torture holy beings continuously.

Meruem had never witnessed so much beauty and horror existing simultaneously within a single being. 

My eyes hurt simply from looking at her, Meruem thought distantly. Never in his wildest expectations had he imagined [Subject Zero] would turn out to be a pure unfallen Seraph of Heaven.

The idea sounded impossible. Capturing a being of that caliber alone bordered upon insanity, much less imprisoning and experimenting upon one for over a thousand years. Heaven possessed only ten active Seraphs and four Great Seraphs in the modern era, and as far as Meruem knew, none of them were missing.

Then again, Heaven once possessed many more Seraphs during the era of the Great War before countless angels died throughout the conflict. The Underworld contained extensive historical records documenting their deaths in obsessive detail, usually written triumphantly by devil historians celebrating the destruction of Heaven’s strongest warriors. So who exactly was the woman before him?

“You are a Seraph,” Meruem said slowly, genuine shock entering his voice for perhaps the first time in years. “How is this possible?.. Who are you?”

“I am the Seraph Azrael,” the woman answered weakly. “The Angel of Death, little devil.”

Meruem stared at her silently. The Angel of Death…

The being who once descended upon Egypt beneath divine command and slaughtered the firstborn children of an entire kingdom in a single night while even the gods of Egypt stood powerless before her passage.

God sent her when the heavens finally wearied of Pharaoh’s defiance.  For Egypt in those days stood swollen with wealth and blasphemous certainty, with the Pharaohs proclaiming themselves divine before crowds kneeling in gold dust and incense smoke while the old gods of the Nile feasted upon worship offered from kingdoms stretching farther than any mortal army could march in a season, and their temples rose immense beside the river with obelisks plated in electrum and statues so colossal that slaves died by the hundreds dragging the stones into place beneath whips and burning sun.

The Egyptian gods mocked Heaven openly then. Their priests laughed at Moses before the royal court and spoke of the God of Abraham as some wandering desert spirit jealous of true divinity, and the Pharaoh hardened his heart while plague after plague descended upon the kingdom with rivers clotting red and livestock rotting in the fields and storms of fire consuming harvests entire, because pride had already rooted itself too deeply in Egypt’s soul for ordinary suffering to uproot it.

So at last Azrael descended upon Egypt clothed in black linen that moved like smoke across still water and crowned with wings vast enough to swallow moonlight from the streets below, and wherever her shadow passed the torches dimmed and the household gods of Egypt fell silent in their alcoves while dogs whimpered and pressed themselves trembling against the earth. 

That was the being hanging broken before him now. 

Meruem remembered reading about her supposed death within an old Underworld text titled On “The Shameful And Deserved Deaths Of The Seraphs” written by a historian from House Agares. According to those records, Azrael was supposedly outmaneuvered and slain by Satanael during the Great War.

The text described her death with absolute certainty. There was no mention whatsoever regarding imprisonment or capture. No mention that the Angel of Death had been secretly chained beneath the earth for over a millennium while the world believed her dead.

Meruem doubted Heaven itself knew the truth, they would not let this be otherwise. There was no longer any doubt that Satanael was directly involved. Still Meruem could not understand the reason. 

Why?

Why hand over a living Seraph to human researchers? Surely Sacred Gear research alone could not possibly justify keeping something this valuable imprisoned for over a millennium. So what exactly was Satanael planning?  

“How did you end up like this?” Meruem finally asked quietly.

“Satanael hath wrought this ruin upon me,” Azrael replied weakly. “Though I find myself more curious regarding thee. How did a devil reach this place? Satanael despises devils deeply. He would never willingly permit one near me.”

“Oh, he didn’t invite me,” Meruem answered calmly while considering his options carefully. “I wasn’t even aware a Seraph was being kept here. How long have you been imprisoned?”

“More than a thousand years,” Azrael whispered softly. “Perhaps longer. Time became difficult to measure eventually. How strange…to think that a devil of all beings would become the first outsider to find me. Who art thou? What house do you belong to? And your companion… who is she? If you are not allied with Satanael, why come here at all?”

Meruem found her manner of speech strange, as though the angel herself could not decide which era she belonged to, speaking in an archaic manner one moment before slipping into modern phrasing the next.

“How rude of me,” Meruem said politely while inclining his head slightly. “I am Meruem of House Beleth, and this is my Bishop, Valerie Tepes. I came here to destroy the organization currently operating this facility because they harmed people belonging to my household.”

“Beleth…” Azrael repeated slowly. “Yes… I remember Beleth well. Proud and mighty.” Her ruined expression twitched faintly. “And Tepes… yes, the vampire lineage. I remember them too.” Her voice suddenly became disjointed. “Though something feels wrong… wrong wrong wrong…” 

She tilted her head erratically toward Valerie. “So much vampire blood inside her veins… but also human blood… no no impossible impossible…” Her breathing quickened. “She is a devil too… but she carries Father’s power inside her soul… a Sacred Gear… yes… but devils cannot possess Sacred Gears… that breaks the laws… unless… unless…” Her voice grew increasingly unstable. “No… no… reincarnation? Human soul converted into devil physiology while retaining a Sacred Gear? Impossible… impossible… Father never intended… impossible! impossible! impossible…” 

The Seraph’s voice slowly descended into fragmented rambling resembling someone standing dangerously close to insanity. 

Meruem observed her thoughtfully. Beside him, Valerie stared toward the broken angel with tears streaming down her face. 

“Master,” Valerie whispered softly. “May I heal her?”

“No!” Azrael screamed violently. The reaction startled even Valerie backward.

“No, no, no, no!” Azrael cried hysterically while thrashing weakly against the chains restraining her. “You cannot heal me! You must not heal me! Please!”

Terror flooded her voice completely. “If I heal then it begins again,” she babbled desperately. “Satanael always heals me before he cuts me apart again. Always. Every single time. Needles in my wings. Hooks in my spine. Demonic poison in my veins while they write notes and measure how loudly I scream.

“Oh God… please no… no more…They peeled my skin away once just to watch it regenerate. They cut open my stomach and left animals feeding inside me while healing the wounds slowly so I could continue feeling everything. Satanael kept asking questions while smiling. Smiling…” she whispered brokenly. 

“I lost count of how many times they opened my body. I lost count of how many organs they removed. Sometimes they took my wings apart feather by feather while healing them repeatedly. Sometimes they nailed my hands into the walls while forcing demonic relics into my throat. Sometimes they left me alone in darkness for years. Please… please do not heal me… if you heal me then it means all of it starts again… please…”

Even Meruem’s cold heart felt a faint sting of sympathy watching the utterly broken state of the once-glorious Seraph. He observed her silently for several long moments while considering his options carefully.

I was going to destroy this entire place anyway, Meruem thought calmly. Perhaps I should simply take her with me and decide what to do afterward.

“I would ask you to explain your presence here,” a loud and powerful voice suddenly interrupted from behind them, its tone overlapping upon itself like several beings speaking through the same throat at once. “But I’m afraid it speaks for itself.”

Meruem’s blood instantly turned cold. He turned toward the source of the voice with frightening speed, genuine alarm surging through him for the first time since arriving within the pocket dimension.

He had sensed absolutely nothing approaching. And yet now there was suddenly someone standing behind him.

The intruder was enormous. A giant easily over twenty feet tall stood near the entrance of the chamber with a physique so monstrous that the underground structure itself seemed too small to properly contain him. The giant possessed four massive arms layered with dense muscles that resembled forged steel more than living flesh while half of his face had been permanently burned away by some ancient catastrophic injury, leaving blackened ruined flesh stretching from forehead to jaw.

The intact half of his face possessed the kind of inhuman perfection ancient civilizations carved into statues of warrior gods and divine kings.

The most unsettling feature, however, were the wings. Ten enormous white wings stretched behind the giant’s back like those of a high-ranking angel. The upper portions remained pristine and brilliant while the lower halves appeared decayed and skeletal, the feathers rotted away entirely until only exposed holy bone remained. The contradiction between divine beauty and grotesque corruption created something deeply unnatural to behold.

And above all else, the sheer presence radiating from the giant was overwhelming. The underground chamber itself seemed to groan beneath his existence.

“I see you have met our eternal prisoner,” the giant stated matter-of-factly while slowly approaching them, every footstep making the earth tremble beneath his weight. “A pity. You must now die.”

“You are a true Nephilim?!” Meruem let out in genuine shock while staring at the being before him. “How is that possible?! I thought your entire race was exterminated during the Flood!”

“Tales of my people’s demise were greatly exaggerated, as you can see,” the giant replied, approaching slowly as each step caused the floor to tremble beneath his immense weight. “That red eye of yours is the [King’s Eye] of Beleth. I remember fighting your ancestor once. I wonder how you shall measure up to him.”

He inclined his massive head slightly. “Though where are my manners? I am the one known as Nebuazad, War Prince of Babel.”

Meruem could scarcely process the absurdity unfolding before him.

First he discovered that the supposedly dead Seraph Azrael had actually been imprisoned and tortured for over a thousand years. Now, one of the true Nephilim stood before him, a member of the ancient race Heaven had once deemed so dangerous that God had ordered their destruction from the world.

Meruem could feel the pressure pouring from Nebuazad, and it easily dwarfed his own.

Meruem himself stood comfortably at mid Ultimate-Class level, which already placed him among the absolute upper echelon of devils within the Underworld. Very few beings could genuinely overpower him. Nebuazad stood above even peak Ultimate class several times over, though he had not quite reached the true realm of Satan class, which was the only fact preventing the situation from becoming utterly impossible.

Still, the difference was huge.

The ancient myths describing the Nephilim suddenly felt far less exaggerated than they once seemed. Long ago, the Nephilim declared themselves rulers of the earth and openly challenged gods and pantheons alike to dispute their supremacy. According to surviving records, surprisingly few divine beings willingly answered those challenges.

Looking at Nebuazad now, Meruem finally understood why. He activated the [Alpha Stigma] fully and examined the giant carefully. And he immediately disliked what he saw.

Nebuazad’s body was a biological masterpiece engineered solely for war. 

Meruem could see through flesh and bone directly into the giant’s internal anatomy, and everything about him had been sculpted specifically for slaughter. He possessed two hearts beating simultaneously like twin war drums beneath his chest. Four separate sets of lungs continuously circulated enormous quantities of oxygen and magical energy throughout his body. Six eyes provided layered visual perception from multiple angles simultaneously while four arms granted impossible offensive versatility. 

The giant stood twenty feet tall though his movements contained none of the sluggishness normally associated with massive creatures. Every muscle fiber looked perfectly balanced between explosive strength and terrifying speed.

Meruem had genuinely never seen a body more perfectly suited for warfare.

It reminded him vaguely of certain descriptions regarding high-ranking Hindu gods and Asuras.

Many ancient Hindu deities were depicted possessing multiple arms because additional limbs symbolized transcendent martial perfection beyond ordinary human limitation. Four arms in particular represented overwhelming superiority in combat because such beings could attack, defend, cast techniques, and wield multiple divine weapons simultaneously without sacrificing efficiency. The warrior gods of Hindu mythology often embodied the concept of total martial transcendence where the body itself evolved into the ultimate weapon unrestricted by normal mortal anatomy.

Nebuazad resembled those ancient depictions disturbingly well. Except unlike mythological symbolism standing safely within ancient scriptures, the being before him was horrifyingly real. Meruem’s instincts screamed at him to run.

“How did a true Nephilim manage to escape the Flood?” Meruem asked with a wary smile, his body slowly filling with demonic power. “I thought the bloody thing was done solely to wash you and your kind from creation.”

“The gods are not omnipotent or omniscient,” Nebuazad replied stoically. “Though they may claim otherwise, even they can be fooled. All it takes is the right magic trick, as the humans say.”

“Not many of you could have survived,” Meruem said casually while measuring the distance between them. “If nothing else can be said of the gods, they are very thorough when committing ethnic genocide. You’ve been hiding for the last couple of millennia like a rat, I take it. It must have stung deeply to do so after you once believed yourselves suzerains of the earth, after you believed yourselves invincible.”

Nebuazad’s expression did not change, though something old and distant moved through his eyes.

“People are nothing if not adaptable,” the giant said wistfully. “It was difficult at first, watching my brothers and sisters burn beneath divine wrath and drown beneath waters sent from Heaven. We once numbered in the thousands, my kin and I, and we laughed in defiance against the world while believing we would remake it in our image. One moment I held the key to the earth in my hand, and in the next breath the walls of the age closed around me. I discovered then that my castles had stood upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand. Now here I remain, one of the last heirs of a people who once believed even the sky would bow.”

“Is that why you’re doing this?” Meruem asked curiously. “Torturing an angel of the Lord… Funding experiments meant to recreate divine miracles. Did Satanael promise you vengeance for what the gods did to your kind?”

“No,” Nebuazad replied. “He promised me justice.”

The word had barely left his mouth before Nebuazad vanished. 

Meruem saw the movement only because of the [Alpha Stigma] ability to follow every movement in detail.

The world slowed into a field of frozen details. A single flex of Nebuazad’s left calf shattered the stone beneath his foot. His four lungs expanded. His upper right arm extended forward while the lower left prepared to seize. His wings tightened against his back to reduce drag. 

It was strange, seeing something so big move so quickly…

Even seeing it, Meruem barely reacted in time.

Nebuazad’s massive hand closed around his face first. The impact drove the back of Meruem’s skull against the air hard enough to create a shockwave. The giant’s grip tightened like a steel trap, and the next instant space folded violently around them as Nebuazad dragged him through a portal by the head.

The world twisted and the underground chamber disappeared.

Meruem was hurled out into open air above a vast stretch of empty wilderness filled with forests, mountains, valleys, and rivers gleaming beneath the artificial sky of the pocket dimension. He twisted violently in the giant’s grasp, fire exploding from his shoulders and back as he tried to break free, though Nebuazad drove him downward like a meteor before releasing him.

Meruem crashed through a mountainside. The impact carved a trench through the earth for hundreds of feets, tearing trees from their roots and splitting stone beneath him. Fire burst from his back at the final moment, a roaring crimson plume that slowed his momentum enough to prevent his body from being buried beneath the plain.

He rolled, twisted, and landed upright amid burning grass.

Nebuazad descended from the sky a moment later, his ten wings folding behind him as he landed gently upon the ruined earth.

“We shall fight here,” the War Prince of Babel said calmly. “I prefer not to damage the prisoner or the facility.”

Meruem rose from the crater, blood sliding down his face from where the giant’s fingers had nearly crushed his skull.

“How considerate,” Meruem said, his heart beating loudly by the adrenaline. 

Then he attacked. Flames burst beneath his feet, propelling him forward like a cannon shell. He crossed the distance at a blink of an eye, one fist wrapped in compressed fire as he swung toward Nebuazad’s ribs with enough force to turn a mountain into dust.

The giant caught his wrist with one hand. Meruem’s second fist followed, fire blasting from his elbow to accelerate the punch. Nebuazad blocked it with another hand. Meruem twisted, formed a blade of flame along his leg, and kicked toward the giant’s throat. Nebuazad’s third hand caught his ankle.

The fourth hand punched him in the stomach. The blow folded Meruem around the fist and the shockwave alone blew the surrounding forest flat.

Meruem coughed blood, yet he detonated fire from his captured wrist and ankle simultaneously, forcing Nebuazad’s grip to loosen by turning the air between their bodies into a burst of white hot plasma. He spun free, used fire from his back to redirect himself midair, and formed twenty arrows of condensed crimson flame behind him.

The arrows tore forward at blinding speed.

However Nebuazad moved only one arm without a hurry and a great sword appeared in his hand.

“Astarl Blade Manifestation!" the giant declared simply.

Then the blade seemed to dissolve. Thousands of tiny slender blades scattered from the hilt like metallic petals reflecting the light, beautiful and lethal as they filled the space before him. Meruem’s eye tracked every single one. To ordinary sight, they would have appeared like a storm of cherry blossoms. Through the [Alpha Stigma], he saw what they truly were, countless illusory astral blades sharper than real steel and faster than most devils could perceive.

The fire arrows struck the wall of petals, and exploded on impact.

Nebuazad emerged through the fire unharmed, his blades having formed a rotating barrier that shredded the heat and scattered the blasts before they could touch him.

Astral Blade Manifestation, Meruem thought. It must be his special technique. He can control these tiny swords through the great sword’s handle. Tiny blades, they’re individually nothing lethal, but numerous enough to create offense and defense simultaneously. How annoying!

Nebuazad swung the remaining hilt and the petals surged.

Meruem threw himself aside, fire exploding from his left side to alter his trajectory instantly. The blades carved through the space he had occupied and continued into the mountain behind him, slicing the stone into thousands of thin segments that collapsed like cut paper.

Meruem raised [Sovereign Pressure]. An invisible wall of dominance slammed outward from him, crushing trees, boulders, and soil into the ground. The force struck the swarm of blades and scattered them briefly, though Nebuazad guided them with his hand and reformed their structure into three huge conic drills that punched through the telekinetic wave.

Meruem saw the attack in slow motion.

Three cones, each rotating in opposite directions. The left aimed for his chest. The right curved toward his spine, while a third descended from above. He thrust both hands outward and ignited the air.

Heat expanded violently, creating a mirage across the battlefield. Dozens of Meruem’s afterimages appeared across the burning air, each formed by carefully bent light and thermal distortion. The blade cones hesitated for a fraction of a second as Nebuazad’s sight was divided.

Meruem used that fraction to launch himself upward, fire bursting beneath his feet and from the palms of his hands, his speed tripling in an instant. He raised [Sovereign Pressure] and seized the broken mountain behind Nebuazad, ripping thousands of tons of stone into the air before hurling it down upon the giant like the fist of a god.

Nebuazad did not even bother to look back. The [astral blades] formed a dome around him. The mountain struck the dome and disintegrated into gravel.

Meruem came through the gravel cloud from above, both fists wreathed in blue white fire. He struck Nebuazad across the face with everything he had. The impact produced a thunderclap that tore the clouds apart overhead.

Nebuazad’s head turned slightly. The giant’s upper left hand seized Meruem by the throat. The lower right struck his ribs. The upper right drove into his shoulder. The lower left caught his wrist before he could counter.

Meruem had not imagined that Four arms would give one such an overwhelming advantage in combat.

Meruem could read every movement, that was not the problem. He could see the muscle contractions before the blows came. He could even predict the trajectory, the intended pressure points, and the next three transitions. It did not matter enough. He possessed only two arms. Nebuazad possessed four. Even if Meruem blocked two attacks perfectly, two more remained to strike him. Even if he moved away from one line of force, the giant’s reach allowed him to close another path immediately.

Due to having four arms and standing almost twenty feet tall while I possess a comparatively ordinary humanoid frame, hand to hand to combat would be suicide, Meruem analyzed coldly while blood filled his mouth. I must create distance and make this into a long ranged battle.

A third hand struck Meruem across the chest and the blow sent him flying through the forest.

He smashed through one tree, then another, then ten more, before arresting his fall with a bloom of flame erupting from his back and shoulders. His boots tore furrows through the ground as he landed.

Meruem snarled and unleashed fire from his entire body, transforming himself into a burning pillar that punched into the sky. Nebuazad stepped back as the ground around them became molten glass, and Meruem used the moment to ascend, drawing heat from every flame he had created.

“Firefield - Domain of the Flame Sovereign.”

A firefield bloomed across the battlefield. A dome of crimson flame expanded outward for miles, swallowing forest, valley, and mountain slope alike. Within its boundary, every spark answered Meruem’s will. Flames coiled and turned like living serpents around his body.

Inside the firefield, he was master of flames and everything about him was enhanced as it was his place of power, akin to a shark in the ocean.

His wounds cauterized instantly as the rising heat within his body acted as a catalyst, accelerating his healing factor. His muscles strengthened as demonic energy flooded through them. His speed increased as controlled bursts ignited beneath his feet with every step, turning each movement into a chained explosion. His durability rose as layers of heat distortion wrapped around him like armor, bending incoming force and dispersing kinetic transfer through thermal expansion.

Nebuazad looked around at the burning world. “Now this is something worthy of Beleth,” he said.

Meruem smiled through bloody teeth, and the firefield collapsed inward responding to his will.

A typhoon of flame formed around Nebuazad, rotating at impossible speed as it shredded the surrounding landscape at the molecular level. Trees ceased to burn because they were reduced to particles too quickly for ordinary combustion. The electromagnetic field around the area inverted, then dispersed, causing every enchanted detection array nearby to go blind.

Nebuazad raised his sword. The [astral blades] gathered around him in a sphere, layering themselves thousands upon thousands deep. The fire typhoon struck the defense and screamed against it, heat and invisible force colliding with astral steel in a sound like the world being sharpened.

Meruem thrust his hand forward. [Sovereign Pressure] compressed the firefield into a spear of invisible force wrapped in white flame. It struck the blade sphere and drove Nebuazad backward for the first time, carving a trench through the valley beneath his feet.

Meruem did not allow him to recover. He created a thousand fire arrows across the dome. Each arrow formed from compressed heat, each one containing enough explosive force to devastate a city, and each moved faster than the eyes can perceive. He launched them all simultaneously from every direction.

Nebuazad’s six hidden eyes opened. The giant moved both upper arms and swung the hilt in a perfect circle. The [astral blades] divided into countless rivers of blades, each river intercepting one stream of arrows. Explosions erupted across the sky in every direction, turning the battlefield into a storm of fire and steel. Meruem saw gaps in the defense. Tiny gaps. Openings lasting less than a tenth of a second.

He seized the chance like a predator launching at helpless prey.

Fire burst from his back, slowing and redirecting him just before a blade river cut through his previous path. He came low, close to the ground, [Sovereign Pressure] flattening the earth beneath him as he accelerated. His right hand became a lance of flame, and he thrust toward Nebuazad’s lower heart.

Nebuazad’s lower left hand caught the wrist.

But Meruem had expected it, and he detonated the arm. The explosion consumed his own flesh from wrist to elbow, turning bone black and tearing muscle apart, yet it forced Nebuazad’s hand open. Meruem used [Sovereign Pressure] to grasp the giant’s knee from the inside, twisting with invisible force while driving a second flame lance toward the joint.

The strike landed, and for the first time, Nebuazad bled. Golden red blood sprayed across the molten ground. Seeing it increased Meruem’s confidence, it was one thing believing someone could be killed, it was another seeing proof of it.

The giant looked down at the wound, then back at Meruem.

“Well done,” Nebuazad said as his knee drove upward.

Meruem crossed both arms and hardened the air before him with [Sovereign Pressure] in repose. The knee shattered the invisible defense and struck him anyway. His body flew upward through the firefield dome, broke through the outer flame boundary, and rose into the sky like a thrown stone.

The astral blades followed as they rose in a glittering storm.

Meruem twisted in the air, his crimson eyes tracking thousands of tiny trajectories at once. Every blade moved differently. Some flew straight while some curved behind him. Some vanished within reflected sunlight, trying to use his own firefield’s brightness against him. He extended [Sovereign Pressure] in hundreds of threads, striking blade after blade aside while forming spiraling shields of flame around his body.

A dozen blades slipped through, and one opened his cheek while two pierced his thigh. Another severed three fingers from his left hand.

Meruem clenched his teeth and heated the air around the blades until their reflected light distorted. He could not melt them, since they were astral constructs rather than metal, yet he could warp the medium through which they moved. The slight distortion altered their paths just enough.

He dove, but Nebuazad leapt to meet him. The two collided above the battlefield as their fists met first. The shockwave split the firefield dome and flattened what remained of the forest beneath them. Meruem ignited flame from his elbows and shoulders, increasing the speed of his punches until they became a barrage of burning impacts. Nebuazad answered with four arms, each strike heavier, each movement perfectly economical.

Meruem ducked under one punch, parried a second with [Sovereign Pressure], blocked a third with his forearm, and then the fourth struck him across the jaw.

His vision flashed white. But he quickly  recovered by detonating fire beneath his feet midair and slamming his forehead into Nebuazad’s burned cheek. The giant’s head snapped back slightly. Meruem used [Sovereign Pressure] to seize every loose boulder below and launched them upward, turning the battlefield into a reverse meteor shower.

Nebuazad’s blades shredded them all with ease and dust filled the sky.

Meruem used the dust to his advantage. He heated each particle until the air became a field of false images. Hundreds of Meruems appeared, each moving differently, each wrapped in flame and pressure. Nebuazad’s eyes tracked them all, yet even six eyes needed time to process too many possibilities.

Meruem attacked from behind. His fist struck Nebuazad’s spine with concentrated [Sovereign Pressure] at the exact point where the wings connected to the back. The giant grunted. A crack spread through one skeletal wing.

Nebuazad’s rearward lower arm caught Meruem by the hair. A hidden angle, Meruem realized too late. The giant threw him downward.

Meruem hit the earth so hard the valley floor collapsed into a basin. Before he could rise, Nebuazad’s astral blades plunged into the ground around him and began digging. The earth beneath Meruem vanished as the blades carved a hole directly under his body, creating a sudden vertical shaft that tried to drop him into darkness.

He fired flames from his palms and boots, hovering above the collapsing ground. Nebuazad appeared above him and all four fists came down. Meruem crossed his arms, [Sovereign Pressure] forming a layered barrier overhead, firefield heat reinforcing his body from every direction. The impact broke through everything.

His right arm shattered first before Nebuazad’s lower hand seized the ruined limb and ripped it away from the shoulder, sending agony exploding through Meruem’s mind as blood sprayed into the molten air.

Meruem screamed, though the sound became a laugh halfway through.

“Is that all, War Prince?” he spat, forcing himself backward with fire from his remaining hand. “I expected more from the scourge of Babel.”

Nebuazad held the severed arm briefly, then tossed it aside.

“You certainly have your ancestor pride,” the giant said. “He also believed insolence could substitute for superiority.”

This is the first time I have been so overwhelmed in a fight, Dimora was nothing compared to this monster…

Meruem raised his remaining hand and the entire firefield answered. Every flame within miles gathered upward, spiraling into an enormous shape above him. Wings of crimson and gold spread across the sky. A beak of white fire formed. Talons condensed from plasma and demonic power. 

[Vermillion Phoenix inferno!]

The Fire Phoenix emerged, hundreds of meters wide, its body made of all the heat Meruem had mustered since the battle began.

The sky darkened beneath the radiance as nuclear heat flooded the world, turning the ground beneath them into liquid while rivers boiled away instantly and mountainsides glowed red before slumping like melting wax.

Nebuazad looked up at the Phoenix without fear, grinning at Meruem. Meruem brought his hand down and the Phoenix descended upon the battlefield with the force of a small sun, turning the entire pocket dimension white for a single instant before the explosion consumed everything.

A mushrooming column of fire rose miles high while the surrounding mountains cracked beneath the pressure wave. The forest became vapor. The valley became glass. The shockwave raced outward and erased every cloud above.

Meruem hovered at the edge of the blast, panting, half his body burned by his own technique despite his mastery over flame. He stared into the expanding firestorm, his crimson gaze searching for Nebuazad’s energy signature.

The giant still stood as the astral blades enclosed him completely. A cocoon of countless tiny blades surrounded Nebuazad, rotating so densely that even the Phoenix’s cataclysmic impact had been dispersed across millions of cutting surfaces. The defense had cracked, bent, and nearly failed before the cocoon finally opened. 

Nebuazad emerged burned, bleeding, and smiling faintly. “That would have slain lesser gods,” he said.

Meruem’s expression remained calm, though something inside him sank. What kind of monster is this?

Nebuazad lifted his great sword hilt. “I shall honor you by ending this properly.”

The sword phased into the molten ground as though sinking into dark water. Ripples spread outward across the glassed battlefield. The surrounding landscape darkened abruptly, as though night itself had descended within the artificial dimension.

Then blades rose from the earth as two rows of a thousand giant swords emerged to the left and right of Nebuazad, each one towering over the battlefield like the remnants of an ancient war. Their edges reflected no light, and their sheer presence weighed upon reality with the suffocating heaviness of countless graves.

“[Astral Blades Ultimate Form]” Nebuazad said. “[Eternal Swords Mausoleum].”

The thousand giant swords shattered into a hundred thousand tiny blades that filled the world, and although Meruem’s visual prowess perceived every single fragment in perfect detail, that knowledge brought him no relief.

He saw every path, every angle, and every line of death suspended around him in slow motion as his [Alpha Stigma] revealed a universe made of blades where offense and defense moved as one, with some swords guarding Nebuazad in layered walls while others formed spears, waves, and spiraling drills, and countless more circled Meruem at every altitude to cover every possible escape route. 

There was no blind spot, Meruem realized. Nebuazad raised one hand and the storm descended while Meruem moved. 

Fire erupted from beneath his feet, launching him sideways. [Sovereign Pressure] crushed the first thousand blades into the ground. Flames formed rotating rings around his body, deflecting hundreds more. He heated the air, created afterimages, inverted electromagnetic traces, and used invisible force to pull himself between openings thinner than a human hair.

The blades followed anyway as a wave crashed toward him from the left, forcing him to burn through it with white fire at the cost of half his remaining sleeve. 

A cone of blades descended from above and Meruem repelled it with Sovereign Pressure only to feel his ribs crack from the recoil before a wall formed behind him, forcing him to blast backward through it with fire erupting from his spine as dozens of blades tore across his back while Nebuazad advanced calmly through the storm and Meruem struggled to reach him. 

He gathered the remains of the firefield and compressed them into a narrow beam of absolute heat, then fired it toward the giant’s head. Fifty layers of astral blades crossed its path and dispersed the beam into harmless radiance.

Meruem used the light as cover. He appeared beside Nebuazad’s wounded knee and struck with [Sovereign Pressure] directly into the joint. The giant staggered half a step. Meruem ignited the molten ground beneath him, turning it into a geyser of fire that swallowed Nebuazad’s lower body.

The giant’s hand emerged through the flame and caught Meruem’s left leg. Meruem tried to sever it himself with fire before the grip tightened, but he was too slow. 

Nebuazad ripped the leg away at the knee, and Meruem’s scream tore across the battlefield just as the blades came again. 

He fell, one arm gone and one leg gone, suspended only by bursts of fire from his remaining hand and back. Blood poured from him in red streams that burned before reaching the ground. His vision swam, though the [Alpha Stigma] still worked, still showed him every approaching blade, every movement of the giant, every possible path.

There were even fewer paths for escape now, and Meruem could only laugh softly at the absurdity of it all because never in his life had he been so completely outclassed. 

“I see why God needed a Flood,” he said hoarsely.

Nebuazad’s expression became solemn, but otherwise said nothing. Meruem gathered everything he had left, a desperate gamble of a man who realized he might truly die a dog’s death here.

[Sovereign Pressure] collapsed inward, compressing the air around Nebuazad into a crushing sphere. The remaining flames of the battlefield surged toward the giant, forming a second Phoenix, smaller, unstable, far more desperate. Meruem poured his will into it, forcing heat, pressure, and demonic energy together until the attack screamed against its own containment.

Nebuazad guided the [Eternal Swords Mausoleum] with both hands. The fifty thousand blades divided once more as half formed a defensive shell around Nebuazad while the other half became a tide of petals flooding toward Meruem, who unleashed his final attack as the unstable Phoenix slammed into the defensive shell and detonated at the exact moment the blade tide reached him, his [Alpha Stigma] already showing him the outcome before it occurred. 

He twisted away from the fatal cluster aimed at his head. He burned through the wave aimed at his heart. Then Nebuazad appeared before him through the explosion.

The giant had crossed the distance from within his own defensive shell, using the blades to part the explosion just enough to move, and though his body was charred, one wing completely broken, and his burned cheek split open, his eyes remained perfectly clear. 

Meruem tried to raise his remaining hand, but Nebuazad’s upper right arm caught it while his upper left seized Meruem by the throat, his lower right gripped his shoulder, and his lower left drove straight into Meruem’s chest. 

The hand pierced through flesh, ribs, and demonic reinforcement as though all of it were wet paper. Meruem’s body went still as Nebuazad’s fingers closed around his heart, and for one final instant he saw everything with perfect clarity. 

He saw the giant’s two hearts beating. He saw the fifty thousand blades hanging motionless around them like silver petals beneath a darkened sky. He saw the molten battlefield below, the shattered mountains, the glassed valley, the ash of the forest, and the last golden flames of House Beleth dying in the wind.

He saw his own heart pulled from his chest. Nebuazad held it between his fingers, still beating once, twice, three times.

“You fought well, child of Beleth,” the War Prince of Babel said quietly.

Meruem tried to answer, but blood filled his mouth instead before Nebuazad crushed the heart in his hand and the world went dark. 

AN: And so ends the tale of Meruem Beleth: a cautionary story about fucking around and finding out. Thank you all for staying with me until the end of this journey—

Just kidding. It would be pretty funny, though, if I just left Meruem for dead and never acknowledged it again.

The last couple of chapters were mostly dialogue and setup, so this chapter ended up being almost pure action. It’s a very long one, but unlike the previous chapters, this one is hopefully a lot more exciting.

I was originally going to split it into two chapters, but then I said fuck it and decided to post the whole thing at once.

This chapter also gave us our first real glimpse into how Meruem’s peerage sees him. Up until now, we’ve mostly viewed him through the eyes of people who only witnessed the worst sides of him, so it was nice to finally see him from the perspective of people who genuinely love, admire, and borderline worship the guy.