The sky above Iravex churned with vast banks of crimson clouds, their swollen mass rolling slowly across Infernity’s sky, pulsing like a festering wound. Dull thunder rumbled somewhere deep within their depths, a constant, distant growl that was sharply interrupted by the crack of unseen lightning. The air itself felt heavy, stifling, warped by oppressive heat until the winds shimmered in wavering distortions above the fortress.
Through that burning sky, the colossal shapes of dozens of Reaver Titans wheeled in wide circles. Their immense wings beat slowly as they drifted through the red haze, each monstrous body radiating baleful power that pressed down upon the realm below with a sinister weight.
Meril lowered her gaze from the bleeding skies and looked down into the gargantuan courtyard that had been built within the fortress of Iravex.
Normally, the courtyard contained numerous plants and magical shrubbery, a wonderful and relaxing garden to stroll through, but that had all been replaced by a polished obsidian platform, its black surface gleaming beneath the red-light filtering through the clouds. Hundreds of nobles stood upon it in ordered rows; their heads bowed in rigid silence. They parted down the center, forming a long pathway that led directly toward a raised dais where a single black throne waited.
These were the nobles of Infernity. Devils, Yōkai, Elves, and countless other species who had been granted gentry with the Crown Prince’s approval. They ruled the hundreds of cities, towns, and settlements scattered across the vast territory of the realm.
And encircling the gathered aristocracy stood hundreds of Reaver Knights, their towering and lithe forms creating a writhing black mist when viewed through the haze of the hellish heat.
Meril herself stood upon the dais, and gone were her usual custom tailored, high-end brand outfits. Instead, she had donned the traditional robes of navy blue, the trimming of her sleeves and collar glittering with purple starlight – and the Abraxas family emblem emblazoned with that same celestial light on her back.
Behind her, flanking either side of her Prince’s throne, stood the four Imperators - Ruel and Furia to the left, Ecayd and Nihil to the right. Their imposing and dreadful forms loomed over the platform, unmoving, their immense auras tightly wound and clad around them, like black armor made of their unwavering loyalty to their master.
Lord Ichigo has long planned for this moment, where he would gather the lesser nobility of Infernity and give them one final ultimatum. Her Prince’s patience had run out, and with the Civil War renewed, his mercy was at its end too.
Already two entire bloodlines had been wiped out by his command, and depending on how the lesser nobility reacted today, it was possible more would follow.
She had spoken to her siblings, the other children of the Abraxas household that served in the government, the Crown Princes were in the midst of a purge. Left and right, anyone suspected of treachery was hauled away and taken into interrogation, or, as in the case here in Infernity, were immediately executed.
The Devil Empire was going through a tumultuous shift – not only were the Five Ruling Satans taking a more direct and militaristic stance against those who expressed ill will towards their reign, they were becoming even more autocratic, silencing dissenting voices with quick and lethal knives.
The Seventy-Two Pillars were left reeling.
The new generation of Satans were staunchly against the barbaric practices of the Demons of the Old Empire. Lord Sirzechs, Lord Ichigo, Lord Ajuka, Lord Serafall and Lord Falbium wanted the empire to grow, for its countless citizens to know peace and prosperity. And to that end, they had reigned in their demonic instincts and powers, refusing to fall into the trappings of brutal tyranny as their ancestors had millennia ago.
But it seemed that was no more.
The Crown Princes of Hell had risen up with renewed fury and ambition, and they were intent on reminding the Underworld that the Seven Deadly Sins do not take kindly to challenge.
Meril’s eyes fell back to the sweltering and silent Devils amassed below, their fear and terror so apparent that she could feel their collective dread coloring the ambient magic in the already supercharged air.
And then every shadow across the courtyard jumped.
What had once been simple silhouettes cast by the red light of Infernity’s wounded heavens now twisted across the obsidian platform, stretching and warping as though the darkness beneath the world had begun to stir. Above them the crimson clouds thickened and deepened in color until they seemed to glow from within, a dark and malignant radiance throbbing through their inflamed mass like the beating of a heart.
The Reaver Titans circling high overhead answered the sudden shift immediately, their jagged maws releasing thunderous roars that rolled across the sky in reverberating waves, the monstrous cries echoing outward across the realm until it seemed as though the very land of Infernity itself had begun to howl in response to the presence descending upon it.
And all at once a soul-crushing pressure fell onto the world.
A sudden and all-encompassing monstrous presence that pressed down onto the realm, threatening to choke the life out of every living soul. The fortress of Iravex shuddered beneath the weight of it, ancient stone groaning as the invisible force swept across the courtyard.
Meril trembled as she fought to keep standing, her very bones groaning in protest while her joints cracked and popped under the abrupt strain. The very air thickened until every breath felt heavy in her lungs, and the already oppressive heat of the day surged upward until sweat began pouring down her skin as if she were made to stand before a blast furnace.
Yet the strain brought upon from the attention of Infernity’s King was the least of it.
Something darker seeped into existence alongside that overwhelming presence, an insidious and corrosive energy that slithered through reality itself and wormed its way into the minds of every living being beneath the crimson sky.
Meril could feel it probing the edges of her thoughts, whispering to her in a thousand hateful voices that dredged up every buried fear she had ever known, every insecurity she had fought to suppress, every nightmare she had convinced herself no longer held power over her. For a single, horrifying moment the urge to surrender to that despair nearly overcame her, a crushing instinct that demanded she collapse to the ground and curl into herself and give up her very soul to the monstrous being watching over them all.
And with a ragged breath, and every ounce of willpower she could muster, she forced her magic inward, reinforcing the walls of her mind through sheer discipline and conviction until the whispers receded into distant murmurs.
When she dared lift her eyes, the sight before her was sobering.
Many of the assembled nobles had not possessed the same strength she had to resist. Over a hundred had already fallen to the obsidian floor, their bodies shaking as they wept and whimpered openly, minds buckling beneath the psychological trauma of being exposed to a Demon Lord’s ire.
High above them, a lone bolt of lightning tore through the crimson clouds, illuminating the sky just long enough to reveal a single mass of storm twisting violently upon itself. And that fragment of cloud spiraled downward, stretching toward the earth in the shape of a writhing funnel that descended slowly through the air – and Meril couldn’t help but think it like an enormous finger reaching down through the firmament. With every meter it lowered the pressure intensified, the invisible weight pressing harder against Meril’s body and mind until she bit into her lip hard enough to taste blood, the sharp sting of pain serving as the final anchor preventing her thoughts from collapsing beneath the oncoming evil.
At last, the tip of the spiraling cloud reached just a few meters above them all, and the storm clouds burst apart with baleful light
From the tip of the crimson finger emerged her master: the Crown Prince of Wrath.
Twelve vast demonic wings spreading outward behind him as Lord Ichigo descended with effortless grace, his red eyes burning like infernal embers as he drifted slowly toward the obsidian platform below.
The moment his feet touched the dais, Meril dropped instantly to her knees and bowed low, pressing her gaze firmly against the polished stone beneath her.
She did not dare look up.
The terror crushing her chest made breathing difficult, yet even beneath that overwhelming pressure a single realization remained crystal clear in her mind: Lord Ichigo was not even using a measly one percent of his terrible power.
Meril’s eyes slowly tracked from the cold stone floor over to her hand, only to see that she had pressed her nails so deeply into her palm that blood was now dripping onto the polished obsidian. It took a great deal of effort to unfurl her fingers, but even as she did so, she could hear the soft steps Lord Ichigo took towards his throne. And as he passed her, the edge of the Demon Lord’s shadow touched her bloodied fingers, and for the briefest second, something starkly white flashed before her eyes and Meril’s mind was filled with the ringing of maniacal and cold laughter.
Her very soul shivered.
From the corner of her eyes, Meril could see Lord Ichigo’s shoes as he took his throne and for several long and painful seconds, nothing was said. Instead, the dread weight of his existence continued to press down on all those in Iravex instead.
As the agonizing seconds ticked by, and more and more of the nobles collapsed and fell into quivering messes, Meril herself took a sharp breath through her nose, and willed her wild heart to slow its beat.
She needed to keep her cool, she needed to keep her bearing. She represented Lord Ichigo, and any weakness on her part would reflect opon her master. And that was one reality that she would never allow: that her own failings stain the Crown Prince she served! She would sooner die than violate her loyalty!
But finally, Satan spoke, “I am angry.”
Lightning cracked the sky and his very words gripped her neck tight and choked the air out of her lungs. The hundreds of Reaver Knights began to hiss low and furiously, their black bodies creating an undulating and mesmerizing shadow through the haze of the heat.
“I have been generous… I have been kind… No more.”
Her master’s power rose, a hair of a fraction, but more than enough where she heard countless screams from the assorted lesser nobility as they were crushed to the obsidian floor, and she could see a few places where blood began to pool.
“Valdros and Belicose’s houses have been eradicated. If you, of Infernity, grant your loyalty to any other than me-”
Satan raised his hand and the clouds were instantly blasted away; Meril looked up – eyes wide and her entire body was suddenly wracked with violent tremors – and a scream nearly tore its way out her throat. But she felt her soul shriek, she felt the instinctual and ancient horror that every Devil had deep within their being scream at her to run. To run as fast and far away as possible.
For far above them, parallel to the ground, the gargantuan Gates of Hell loomed, pressing brimstone and infernal energy onto Infernity. The two Guardians, one handed demonic skeletons on each side of the door, gripped the edges and were prepared to open the doors to Eternal Damnation.
“-I will send you all to Hell.”
=======
Ichigo stood in his office with his arms crossed, a touch of regret entering his eyes as he beheld the still trembling Meril who struggled to meet his eyes. He held back a sigh, nonetheless, he felt bad for having essentially traumatized his secretary into being exposed to so much of Hell’s energy.
It was enough to have broken her mind; had he not been consciously absorbing the power into his own soul to refrain from permanently tainting Infernity.
But Ichigo had deemed the monstrous display of power necessary. His laissez-faire approach to ruling his own kingdom had left many nobles questioning the limits of his patience and bottom line. And, while he fully believed that the petty schemes of the lesser nobility were far beneath his notice, he couldn’t exactly tolerate disloyalty and treachery. Especially not now - not with Ophis towering before him while Khaos Brigade and the Great King nipped at his heels.
Decisive ruthlessness is what was needed in these chaotic times.
“Meril,” he called softly, and his gut wrenched as the beautiful she-Devil viscerally flinched at the sound of his voice and seemed to shrink into herself. With a sigh, Ichigo then said, “Take some time off, in fact, take all the time that you need.”
Her eyes flew wide open and she immediately began to protest. “No! My Prince, I-” But as she looked up and met his gaze, Meril instantly took several steps back and began choking on her breath.
Shaking his head sadly, he said, “No, that’s an order. You’re not allowed to come back to work until you’re back to a hundred percent. Go. Spend time with your family, relax, see a shaman – whatever you have to do to move past being exposed to me and Hell.”
Meril seemed to deflate and he could sense her erratic emotions emanate from her soul; her sense of pride and professionalism warred with the dread laced like venom into the very core of her being. It would take time, and a lot of magical help, for her to move past the trauma of being exposed to the combined auras of Hell itself and its favorite Crown Prince.
After a terse moment, Meril bit her red and bruised lip and nodded gingerly. She entwined her hands together, fingers fidgeting, and she gave a low bow before quickly teleporting away.
He stared at the spot she had stood at for several long moments, and then quietly leaned back, half sitting against his desk and let out a tired sigh.
No wonder the Sirzechs and Serafall had such bubbly and outgoing personalities: for two beings who craved affection and loving bonds like they did, the wretched weight they exuded against reality was its own kind of torture. He already felt miserable for having done what he did to Meril, he couldn’t imagine the all-consuming guilt he’d feel if he ever put Yuzu or Karin through the same ordeal.
There was a faint ripple in the fabric of space, and Ichigo turned his head just a slight touch to see Tiamat standing there with a neutral expression. Nevertheless, he could sense the immense concern and outpouring of love coming from their mind. With two deft steps of her long stride, she crossed the distance between them and gently wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. And as soon as he felt her physical touch, Ichigo squeezed back and buried his face into her neck and hair.
He took a deep breath, inhaling the sea brine and that faint scent that vaguely reminded him of his childhood, and he began to slightly rock her in his arms. They stood there in silence for several long moments, with Ichigo taking solace in her embrace even as Satan still simmered just under a thinnest veil within his soul. But it was his own ironclad will and the inexhaustible love for the woman in his arms that kept the monster that he was at bay.
Several more minutes passed, and gently, Tiamat pulled away from him, a melancholic and small smile on her lips as her eyes shone with worry. “Come,” she urged softly, putting her hand to his cheek and rubbing tenderly with her thumb, “let us retire for the day.”
And Lucifer, if that wasn’t so damn tempting - to lay in her arms, in their bed, for the rest of the day and banish the evil thoughts clinging to his mind.
Ichigo slowly reached up and grabbed hand and turned his head, pressing a firm kiss to her palm. He gingerly shook his head. “As much as I’d love to, can’t,” he said with some resignation. “I’ve already spoken with Falbium; I’m heading to the front lines and pushing the offensive further. Ichigo’s done his bit, time for Satan to do his.”
Ocean blue eyes bored into his, but after a pause, she gave a small nod and then kissed him lightly on the lips. “Then go, show them the folly of challenging your crown. Bring death to your enemies, beloved.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Oh, I sure as Hell will.”
=======
Ichigo cleanly appeared through the folds of space without a single ripple and calmly stepped onto the broad deck of Devil military skyship.
The vessel hung high above the battlefield, its armored hull bristling with magical artillery while banners bearing the sigils of the Devil Empire snapped violently in the hot winds. All across the deck, officers and mages moved in tightly controlled chaos, shouting coordinates, adjusting barrier arrays, and relaying orders through floating communication glyphs as the battle against the Old Satan Faction unfolded far below.
Though the moment Ichigo appeared, the noise died and every Devil felt the presence of the Sin resonate within their souls.
Voices faltered into silence and hands froze mid-motion. More than a few jaws quite literally dropped as dozens of officers stared at the sudden arrival of the Crown Prince of Wrath standing calmly in their midst.
But before Ichigo could even speak, a sharp female voice cut across the stunned silence like a whip crack. “Pick your jaws off the floor, you fools, and get back to your stations!”
The weight of his presence scattered immediately, and the officers snapped upright and hurried back to their work, though many still cast furtive glances over their shoulders.
Ichigo turned his head toward the source of the command and found himself looking at a tall woman striding toward him with a visibly vexed expression as she cast the fidgeting officers a contemptuous glare. Her long blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail that swayed sharply with each step, and the confident way she carried herself made it immediately clear she was accustomed to command.
Ichigo instantly recognized her as Nalentia Purson.
The wife of the Pillar Purson, an Ultimate-class Devil in her own right and a retired high-ranking competitor in the Rating Games. She was also Serafall’s cousin and one of the most respected generals during Sirzechs’ rebellion in the Devil Civil War. Not to mention, among the Underworld’s warriors, her swordsmanship was legendary; Ichigo privately considered her skill with a blade comparable to his own and Souji’s.
Nalentia stopped before him and gave a short, crisp bow. “Welcome to the front lines, my Prince. Lord Falbium sent word of your arrival.”
Ichigo acknowledged the greeting with a brief nod. “Let’s skip the pleasantries. What’s the situation?”
“Right this way.”
She gestured toward the central command station where a large three-dimensional projection hovered above a circular table. A magical hologram of the battlefield rotated slowly, displaying troop movements, magical signatures, and the spreading stain of death across the terrain below.
As Ichigo approached, he extended his senses outward and into the Underworld and the chaos of the battle below, aligning what he saw with what he felt through the currents of supernatural energy saturating the warzone.
“Necromancers, my Lord,” Nalentia said briskly.
And swiftly Ichigo’s mouth twisted into a fierce scowl. There were few things that irritated him more than those who toyed with the souls of the dead. Ever since he was young and could perceive the spirits of the dead, Ichigo had always held an immense sympathy for those who had yet crossed over to the other side.
And necromancers, particularly those who dabbled in soul arts, were amongst the worst kind he had encountered in the supernatural world. They disturbed and tortured dead souls, keeping them in agony and from the peace of an afterlife, all to serve their selfish whims.
“Our intelligence indicates a cabal of at least a dozen,” Nalentia continued, pointing toward a glowing blue sphere within the projection nearly the size of a city. “Two of them are confirmed Ultimate-class. They’ve raised millions of corpses across the battlefield, and they’ve concealed themselves inside layered multidimensional barriers here. Our mages are attempting to break through, but the necrotic energy saturating the area is corroding the environment and disrupting their spells.”
Ichigo studied the projection for a moment before his scowl deepened.
“I’ll take care of it.”
Nalentia didn’t even blink. She gave another precise bow.
“You have our gratitude, sire.”
=======
Ichigo stood alone in the sky above the battlefield, his jacket snapping in the turbulent winds as he looked down upon the chaos unfolding below. The land had been turned into a graveyard of war. Endless waves of undead crawled and staggered across the blasted terrain, their numbers so vast that the ground itself seemed to move like a dark tide. And beyond them all loomed the source of the corruption - the massive blueish shield spanning over a hundred miles, shimmering with layered dimensional barriers that folded over one another like sheets of glass.
He gave a minor frown as he sensed beyond the space-time magic. It wasn’t just a fortress that lay on the other side; no, there was an entire pocket dimension hidden away. No doubt filled with countless shambling corpses and a world’s worth of death energies.
He couldn’t help the bile of revulsion that rose up in him, that all too familiar taste in the air of taint and undeath, so much like the Hollows he battled in his youth. But that revulsion, that disgust, was so easy to churn into resentment and anger, and the Sin his soul answered with glee.
At once the world reacted.
A violent tremor rippled through the Underworld as his demonic power surged to the surface. The sky above dimmed, darkening clouds boiled and twisted as his suffocating pressure spread outward from his body. Rage – ancient and bitter and vast - pooled into his very being until the air itself began to burn under the insanity of his furor.
Slowly, he raised a lone finger and pointed it down with all the damned contempt that Satan could muster.
A small sphere of black energy spiraled into existence at the tip of his finger, its surface crackling violently as arcs of blue lightning erupted outward. The bolts lanced through the skies and tore through the battlefield below, incinerating hundreds of undead wherever they struck.
The blue sparks reminiscent of Tiamat’s lightning reflected in his eyes, he watched coldly as the sheer density of his demonic energy began to warp the very weft of space around his hand.
Then, softly, he spoke. “Cero Tormenta.”
The blast erupted forward with the thunderous roar of a dragon, a colossal torrent of black and blue energy hurtling down from the sky before slamming and tearing through the dimensional barriers. The impact unleashed a catastrophic explosion that tore upward into the heavens, swallowing the entire shielded city in a towering inferno of annihilating power.
The endless hordes of undead were simply erased, their decaying bodies vaporizing into drifting ash before they could even turn toward the light. The earth itself swelled outward beneath the impact, the ground bulging and rippling like the surface of a boiling sea before a titanic shockwave detonated upward and blasted the land apart. Rock, soil, and ancient bone were hurled and disintegrated miles into the sky as the explosion carved a vast molten crater hundreds of miles across.
And above it all, the sky was swept clean; every cloud across the horizon was torn away by the force of the blast, leaving only a vast scar of smoldering ruin beneath the empty heavens.
Luckily, Nalentia had given her troops the order to retreat, leaving her armies intact so that they could now rush into the dimensional breach his cero had punched through the reality of the Underworld.
Speaking of which, Ichigo quickly received a telepathic message from Nalentia.
‘My Prince, all of our forces are pressing forward with the opening you have provided us with.’
Ichigo swiftly responded back. ‘I’ll push behind enemy lines but will keep my powers restrained. Leave any Ultimate-class enemies to me.’
‘Very good, my Lord. Satanspeed.’
=======
Ichigo stepped through the smoking rupture his Cero had carved through the dimensional barriers and teleported into the pocket dimension beyond. The world hidden behind the shields felt immediately wrong to his senses, the air thick with necrotic magic that clung to everything like damp rot. The sky above was a murky green-black haze that pulsed faintly with sickly light, while the ground beneath him appeared swollen and diseased, as though the land itself had been infected by the endless manipulation of death energies.
Even before the first corpse began to stir, Ichigo could already feel the restless presence of countless enslaved souls bound into the earth around him.
He frowned heavily. He’d have to hold back on using Hellfire here, lest he undeservedly sear an innocent enslaved soul.
Behind him, far beyond the broken barrier, he could sense the advancing forces of the Devil army pushing into the breach his attack had created. The mages and battalions would soon flood into this space, and that meant he had to take even greater care with his powers.
A Satan releasing its power recklessly in the middle of an active battlefield could annihilate entire continents without intending to. If he allowed even a fraction too much of his demonic strength to slip free, he could kill as many of his own soldiers as the enemy.
The burdens of power, he thought to himself. Can’t go around accidentally squishing everyone around me.
Deep within his soul the Sin of Wrath churned impatiently, the vast inferno of his demonic power pressing against the walls of his control like a storm trapped inside a cage. Ichigo forced the pressure downward, locking away the overwhelming majority of his strength and allowing only a controlled trickle of power to seep into his body.
And seemingly in response to his own aura growing, the first wave of undead rose from the ground almost immediately.
Massive flesh golems lumbered toward him - towering constructs formed from stitched corpses and fused muscles, their grotesque bodies towering three times his height as necromantic runes glowed beneath their swollen skin. Behind them marched a dense formation of skeleton warriors, their empty eye sockets burning with cold green flames as the necromancers forced them forward like an advancing tide.
Ichigo summoned Zangetsu, while letting his Sword-Soul know they’d have to restrain themselves to pure swordplay here.
With little fanfare, he swung Zangetsu once, and the sheer force behind the motion tore the world before him apart. The blade never even touched the approaching flesh golems; instead, the swing released a titanic shockwave that detonated outward across the fields of undeath. The ground before him buckled violently as if struck by a falling meteor, the earth heaving upward in a rolling wall of stone and soil that raced across the wasteland for dozens of miles.
Flesh golems were ripped apart instantly beneath the monstrous surge of kinetic force, their stitched bodies bursting into clouds of gore and shattered bone, while the charging ranks of skeletons simply disintegrated as the shockwave plowed through them. When the violent tremor finally passed, the land ahead of Ichigo had been gouged open in a vast scar, the battlefield churned into pulverized ruin beneath the echo of a single swing.
Ichigo then vanished into their midst.
To the undead, it looked as if he were standing still, having never moved from the lone spot where he unleashed the devastating swing. But Zangetsu danced beyond the reaches of the world’s limits, and with effortless precision, the Demon Sword cleaved through the tightly packed ranks: every strike severing skulls and bisecting spines and scattering the cursed energy animating the multitude of undead.
And in the same second, Ichigo now stood miles and miles away, behind the assorted armies of death, and as he lazily flicked Zangetsu, entire clusters of monsters exploded into drifting ash, the battlefield coming to life as death magicks flared a pale green and dissipated into the sky.
More of the unliving surged toward him from the surrounding wasteland. Towering skeletal giants, their enormous ribcages glowing with necrotic fire, thundered across the battlefield as they attempted to crush him beneath their massive limbs.
Ichigo raised a palm to the sky and storm clouds churned in answer.
Blue lightning erupted and thousands of bolts fell to the corrupted ground, tearing through tens of thousands more even as a giant lance of lightning speared through the skull of the leading skeletal giant before leaping violently from one undead titan to the next. The electrical arcs tore through the battlefield like a living serpent of energy, detonating skeletons and burning through corpses until dozens of the creatures collapsed in a cascading chain of destruction.
Before the smoke had even settled, a new threat emerged as the ground swelled red and the taste of wet iron filled his nose.
Ichigo frowned as armies of amorphous figures rose out of the ground, and he narrowed his eyes in recognition: Blood Fiends. Creatures created from the shed blood of the living polling across battlefields. But for the necromancers of the Old Satan Faction to have this many?
His brow furrowed in thought; there was no possible way that their enemies had managed to kill so many living beings and reanimate them, not without Sera’s intelligence network noticing. Ichigo could only conclude two possibilities: either they were using the forgotten pathways in the Chthonic realms to siphon and steal souls, or worse, they had managed to find an arsenal vault of an ancient Demon of the Old Empire.
Sirzechs and the others had scoured the Empire to ensure that the old Demons left behind no weapons that could be used against them, but the possibility of something having managed to escape their notice was always very real. As for the Chthonic realms - Ichigo’s frown grew more pronounced.
The subduing of Malebolge was becoming more and more important by the day, it seemed.
The Blood Fiends surged forward in writhing masses; their bodies formed of coagulated rivers of blood that constantly shifted and reformed as they attempted to engulf him. The creatures shrieked as they lunged, their unstable forms stretching outward like grasping waves.
With a single step, Ichigo went high into the air, and he drew Zangetsu to his shoulder, the lethal edge of his blade suddenly being lit with dark fire. Not Hellfire, but a lesser though still dangerous curse fire that any powerful Devil worth their salt could conjure.
Ichigo adjusted his form in the sky, and he drew the blade in both hands as the fire wrapped hotter and burned bright on Zangetsu’s edge, until it shone like a beacon of sunlight in this tainted dimension. And in a moment of supreme irony, Satan’s light was the pharos of salvation within this dead world.
And as his arms came down, Ichigo’s lone word silenced the dead, “Castigo.”
The Blood fiends watched as the sky above them exploded in a nova of baleful fire, a dark sun manifesting that sent waves of cascading power. And Satan’s Sun twisted into nine rays, each becoming a torrent that leapt forward across the battlefield. Each stream of fire curled inward on itself, shaping into the unmistakable form of a burning fox - long snouts, burning ears, and eyes of searing ember light - nine blazing beasts born from the swing of his blade… and his heart.
The foxes raced outward with uncanny grace; their bodies composed entirely of writhing black-red flame. They bound across the wasteland with fluid, predatory elegance, weaving through the charging masses of blood fiends as though the battlefield were nothing more than their track.
Wherever the fire-beasts passed, the fiends were consumed instantly. Their unstable bodies of bubbling blood erupted into a violent and roiling boil as the solar heat tore through them, the thick red tides bursting apart into roiling clouds of steam and burning vapor. Within seconds the air filled with the acrid stench of scorching iron and baking blood, the scent so heavy it seemed to cling to the lungs.
Yet the foxes continued to dance.
Each flaming creature moved with graceful elegance, weaving through the crimson wasteland in wide arcs and spiraling paths that carved destruction through the enemy ranks. Their blazing paws barely touched the earth, but every step left behind glowing scars in the land itself. The corrupted soil melted beneath their passage, turning to bubbling magma that oozed through widening fractures in the ground. Trails of molten stone spread behind them like burning footprints as the battlefield was transformed into a shifting sea of fire and liquid rock.
By the time the nine foxes finished their dance, the entirety of the undead horde had been savaged by the fires of a demonic sun. The wasteland ahead of Ichigo glowed with fresh rivers of lava, the molten earth casting a hellish light across the battlefield as the last remnants of the blood fiends evaporated into the scorching air.
And still, far beyond, in the deepest reaches of this pocket dimension, Ichigo could still sense a city’s worth of the undead more.
They squirmed beneath the earth in endless waves, thousands upon thousands of corpses animated by the will of their masters. But instead of going to confront them directly, Ichigo reached out with his dark will, the air around him beginning to ripple as his telekinetic power seized the battlefield itself. And as he reached deep into the layers of the earth, into the very foundations of this hadean badland, Ichigo flooded it with his demonic power.
The world shook as he assaulted the hidden corpses shambling far below, tearing them apart with psionic fury as his mind willed them a final death. And as he did so, as countless enslaved souls were released from the sorcerous thrall, Ichigo followed the severed threads of magic with his mind, tracing them back to his intended prey: the cabal of necromancers hidden away.
And as soon as he found them, hidden away behind layers and layers of arcane paling, Ichigo tore through time and space to their location.
The moment he reappeared, he drove through the layered arcane defenses protecting the necromancers’ sanctum, each barrier shattering like panes of glass under the sheer pressure of his presence. Sigils burst apart and defensive wards detonated in cascading rings of light as he tore downward through the final veil and emerged inside a vast subterranean chamber.
The cavern was colossal; its walls etched with ancient runes while a gargantuan magic circle burned across the floor. At its center stood the twelve necromancers, hands raised as they channeled immense rivers of death magic that fed the endless resurrection of their undead armies above.
His senses wrapped around all twelve of the sorcerers, and Ichigo noted them to all be Devils and, not to mention -
His eyes narrowed, Nalentia had been wrong, there were three Ultimate-class here, not two. And the other nine were firmly in the upper ranks of High-class, equaling his own Reaver Titans. No wonder Falbium had sent him here, Nalentia would not have been able to handle this on her own, not without at least another two or three Ultimate-class Devils to reinforce her. And given how many different fronts they had been fighting on, it was a better use of their resources for Ichigo to come here personally so other powerful Devils could fight elsewhere.
But then…
A black mist surrounding the necromancers rose from their bodies and twisted unnaturally, wriggling like living smoke as it seeped outwards and coiled around their limbs. And, for the briefest second, the dark smog coalesced and solidified above the twelve, taking on the visage of an abyssal serpent.
Ophis.
He snorted in contempt, even with three Ultimate-class blessed by Infinite Ouroboros, they were not match for him.
One of the Ultimate-class Devils turned to him, eyes filled with a mad light, sneering with derision. “So, the false Satan dares to come out of his ho-hrrrk!”
The Devil went down in a spray of blood as Ichigo had hurled Zangetsu and pierced through the necromancer’s skull, much to the shock of the other eleven sorcerers.
Ichigo rolled his eyes. Like Hell he was going to listen to an Old Satan Faction grunt monologue after he had to ensure Katerea’s unhinged rants at the summit. And as the other necromancer’s began to bristle and weave spells, Ichigo appeared behind another of the Ultimate-class Devil and shoved his hand through black robes and bones, tearing out the necromancer’s heart.
He brought Hell to his eyes and let out a dangerous growl, “Your souls are mine.”
=======
Nalentia Purson cut through the skeletal ranks with the smooth, economical precision that had once made her one of the most feared blade-masters of the first Civil War. Her sword flashed in tight arcs of silver light as she advanced at the head of her battalion, each second saw her cut apart hundreds of undead, and yet, their numbers never seemed to lessen.
Around her, the soldiers of her army pressed forward in disciplined formation, mages unleashing controlled bursts of magic while heavy infantry smashed through the magical legions of bone. Sacred Gears and Demon swords flared to life, blasting through enemy lines and carving out entire ranks of the living dead.
Even so, the sheer number of the undead was staggering; they crawled over shattered ground and broken stone like an endless tide, their empty eye sockets glowing with sickly green necromantic fire.
And there were even a few dozen lesser liches that resurrected their fallen soldiers. Those were the ones she focused on, cutting them down with ruthless efficiency. But she knew that was a temporary solution, she’d have to find and destroy their phylacteries to keep them from resurrecting themselves.
Her mouth twisted sourly even as she cut down another several hundred with a swipe of her sword; there was a reason why no one enjoyed fighting undead hordes. Lord Ichigo’s persecution of the necromantic arts was actually somewhat of a boon, now that she thought about it.
Nalentia stepped forward again, her sword sweeping upward in a powerful diagonal cut that split a skeletal giant clean in twain, but then, the battlefield suddenly went still.
Every undead froze in its place.
Thousands upon thousands of the dead halted in mid-motion, their limbs locked where they stood as if time itself had seized them. For a single heartbeat there was nothing but silence across the battlefield.
Then the wailing began.
A piercing, unnatural shriek erupted from the entire army at once, a chorus of tortured sounds that ripped across the wasteland in an ear-piercing, keening wails. The dead convulsed violently, their bones trembling and rattling and their flesh billowing and swelling before the necromantic energy animating them burst into a violent gore.
Nalentia wrapped herself in her magic to shield herself from being showered in the visceral rain, but most of the soldiers under her command did not share her quick reflexes. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as there was quite a bit of retching hurling from her soldiers.
“Oh Lucifer, I think I swallowed a toe!”
“Gah! I have ash in my eyes!”
“Blrrrgh!”
In the span of seconds, the entire undead host crumbled into drifting clouds of gray dust and Nalentia lowered her sword slowly as the wind carried the remains of the army away.
She did not need to ask what had happened, Lord Ichigo must have reached and dealt with the necromancers.
She looked off into the distance, her eyes peering through the sickeningly green fog set on the horizon; even from hundreds of miles away, she could feel the lingering presence and evil that remained in the wake of a Sin’s presence, how it ate away at the necrotic taint. And even though he was suppressing his power heavily for their sake, the echo of his demonic majesty still bled through the air like a tumultuous storm.
Carefully, she extended her supernatural senses and in her mind’s eye the chaos and devastation he unleashed manifested.
Hundreds of miles of land had been utterly ruined: a gargantuan scar cut across the wasteland where the ground had been violently torn open, and far off towards another expanse lay a blackened field of lifeless and scorched earth where faint arcs of electricity still danced across the shattered stone. Farther beyond that desolation, the terrain had collapsed entirely into a raging volcanic hellscape where geysers of molten lava erupted from the churning rock he had magically warped.
She was reminded of the first Civil War, so many centuries ago now, when Lord Sirzechs and the other Satans warred against the Demons of the Old Empire and left entire dimension and realms annihilated.
The Satans truly were living apocalypses.
And it was with that thought, Lord Ichigo seamlessly stepped into reality, just a few feet away from her: his power falling over them all in a low blanket, demanding their submission.
She gave the youngest of the Satans a short bow. “Welcome back, my Prince. Congratulation on a successful hunt.”
He let out a hum and raised hand, conjuring twelve glowing orbs radiating a pale, green energy. “All twelve necromancer souls in custody,” the Demon Lord said quietly, and Nalentia held back a shiver as she beheld the flash of malice in his crimson eyes.
“Do you wish for me to set up an interrogation field, sire?” she asked smartly.
But Lord Ichigo shook his head. “No, I’ll hand these over to Sera and let her handle the interrogation. After that, they’ll be consigned to Hell.”
She suppressed another shiver. But on that note… “Speaking of souls, my Lord, do you have orders for what is to be done with the souls freed from the necromancers foul magicks? I cannot be certain, but I estimate there must be well over a million.”
Lord Ichigo frowned as he turned his head and looked out into the horizon, no doubt taking measure of all the wandering spirits still trapped in this pocket dimension.
“For the souls that were Devils,” he began, slowly, “They’ll automatically be pulled into Hell, so we won’t have to do anything about that. As for the others, Sera and I will reach out to the Chthonic realms and send word to the Dead Kings, so that they may send their psychopomps here and reap what they’re owed. Speaking of which, make sure you send out a team to secure the central core of this dimension. I’d rather not all these souls fall into the Void.”
She nodded sharply and then did her best to give a polite smile. “Will you retire back to forward command, my Prince? Shall I have tea served? Or perhaps a meal?”
He gave her an amused look and then shook his head. “No, l need to get these necromancers in Sera’s hands as soon as possible. The faster we can get intel out them, the better. And then I’m off to another battlefield, Falbium has a list of fronts he’d like for me to rampage through.”
She continued to smile politely, even as she internally winced. Nalentia almost felt bad for those poor, deluded fools of the Old Satan Faction. She couldn’t imagine the horror of being hunted down by Lord Ichigo personally. She’d sooner slit her own throat than have this walking genocide after her soul.
“Oh, by the way,” she was abruptly torn from her thoughts as Lord Ichigo said, “I did my best to leave as much of the underground infrastructure intact. There might be something of worth down there.”
“I will immediately have an investigative team sent, sire,” she said promptly.
“Good, and if you find anything relating to Khaos Brigade, especially the White Dragon Emperor of this generation, have it sent to my office directly.”
“As you command, my Prince.”
He gave her a sharp nod and looked around the devastated dimension and her soldiers healing themselves and moving out to secure the area. He then turned back to her and said calmly, “Good job though, you’re as every bit as efficient as Sirzechs said you were.”
Nalentia felt a swell of pride within her chest; Lord Ichigo’s admiration was rarely given and sorely desired in the Upper Nobility after rumors of what he had done to the Pillar Lords of House Gremory and Sitri swirled about. And after his very public confrontation with the Great King, the Pillars were practically desperate to throw themselves at his feet. Alas, Lord Ichigo kept his distance, only ever revealing himself to make his displeasure known.
This positive impression she had made would serve as a massive boon to House Purson: maybe in the future she could even convince him to come as guest to their territory. She did have an unmarried granddaughter or two…
Nevertheless, she kept herself composed and lowered her head respectfully. “Your praise is undeserved, my Lord. House Purson exists to serve the Crown Princes.”
He waved her words away, they both knew it was false humility, but these rituals were common amongst their kind when it came to their superiors.
“Anyways, I’m off. Stay safe out here, Purson.”
And she gave one last bow as his monstrous presence faded back into the Underworld.
=======
“One day I’m going to get that brat to understand the merits of necromancy,” Grayfia heard her husband mutter under his breath as he read Lady Purson’s report.
“Considering his psychopomp ancestry and the fact he just dealt with a veritable army of the undead, I somehow doubt that,” she replied dryly.
Sirzechs’ green eyes peered up from behind the reports he was reading as he gave her a faux glare. “Okay, can we talk about how you’ve been consistently taking his side recently? Sometimes I think you forget who you’re married too, dear.”
“I wish,” she immediately replied.
As he rolled his eyes and returned to his immense workload, her husband leaned back in his opulent chair and put his hands behind his head. “So, where has Falbium sent off our youngest monstrosity to now?”
Grayfia idly allowed her touch to extend into the Underworld, looking for the supernova of a demonic presence that was her once-upon-a-time ward. “It appears he’s at the Rozarrian Flats, where the 212th Legion is currently besieging a dimensional hold of the remnants of House Sabnock.”
Sirzechs made a face instantly. “Sabnock! Bah, a bunch of parasites unworthy of their own name! They haven’t produced a Devil worth a damn in over a thousand years! I hope Ichigo reduces them to ash!”
Grayfia slowly stepped around the desk and put a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder, understanding his sudden ire quite well. The former Lord of House Sabnock had once been a dear friend to her husband; they had grown up together and been quite close. Not only that, but he was also a revolutionary in his own right, wanting to transform their floundering society into something new and vibrant.
Many of Sirzechs and Ajuka’s early ideals and philosophies had been formulated under the passionate waxing of Lord Sabnock. Unfortunately, Lord Sabnock was murdered by his own wife and sister, the latter of whom usurped his position and, when Sirzechs and his fellows announced their rebellion, chose to side with the Old Satan Faction.
Her husband has never forgiven them for their betrayal of his departed friend. But then, such were the old ways, where knives were plenty and willing for each and every back.
“I can send a message to Ichigo and ask him to take living prisoners, if you wish?” she asked lightly.
Her husband let out a long sigh and leaned over, pressing his head onto her stomach and Grayfia instantly cradled him in her arms.
“I’d much rather go out and get them myself,” he grumbled.
And even as she threaded her fingers through his crimson locks, she gently chided him, “Sirzechs.”
“I know, I know! I have an empire to run, no time for violence and carnage!” And despite his childish outburst, she smiled softly and reached down and kissed him on the cheek.
“Finish your work quickly, then we can go and have dinner with Millicas. In the meantime, I’ll send Ichigo a missive.”
At the mention of their son, Sirzechs immediately perked up and said brightly, “That’s right! I promised Millicas I’d play the brand new DLC of Immortal Kombat 3 with him!”
Smiling to herself, Grayfia swiftly treaded out her husband’s office.
=======
Ichigo stood alone amid a sea of fire; his clothes and blade splattered with dark blood that hissed and burned where the flames licked across it. The battlefield around him had become a charnel furnace, the ground carpeted with the blackening corpses of innumerable devils whose bodies crackled and smoldered in the inferno. Heat shimmered through the air while sparks drifted upward like dying stars.
His crimson eyes burned with a cold, demonic fury as he surveyed the carnage without remorse. Deep within his soul, the Sin of Wrath stirred like a triumphant beast, and Zangetsu roared with maniacal and savage laughter.
But then, rather abruptly, he felt a chilled yet familiar demonic presence tentatively reaching out to his mind. Ichigo blinked slowly, willing the bloodlusted haze away as he frowned at the sudden psychic tether.
‘Grayfia-nee?’ He called through their forming connection.
‘My apologies for disturbing you in the midst of a military matter, Lord Wrath, but I have come with an official request from my master, the Lord Pride.’
He frowned at her strict and neutral tone, but he realized it must have been something quite important to Sirzechs. Nevertheless, he was still Ichigo, and this was the older sister figure in his life, so in typical irreverent fashion he responded, ‘What’s up?’
There was a brief pause, and he resisted the urge to laugh as he could practically hear her mental sigh before she said in the same professional tone, ‘If you are to come across any member of House Sabnock in your incursion, the House of Pride would be most grateful if you could deliver them onto us still breathing.’
“Oh…,” he said both out loud and within his mind.
‘Oh?’ She echoed in question.
And Ichigo slowly looked down to the burnt and severed head of the Ultimate-class Devil at his feet.
“About that…”
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A/N: Chapter 69, giggity.
Ichigo on a warpath in this one, but not much in terms of moving the plot forward. That being said, I certainly wanted to do a chapter where Ichigo really lays into the Old Satan Faction and proactively strikes against his enemies rather then waiting for them to make a move. Next chapter will be the Malebolge arc, where Ichigo delves into the lands of the Fallen and the borders of the Chthonic Kingdoms.
Cero Tormenta: Zero Storm.
Castigo: Punishment.
I liked the idea of Ichigo incorporating Tiamat and Yasaka's influence into his combat style. Yasaka's in particular was fun because of all the symbolism involved in the imagery. The Solar aspects to reinforce him being the Moon Slayer, but also, him looking near holy. Hell is the ultimate punishment, but Ichigo's faux holy appearence makes it deceptively seem like he's bringing down a holy punishment. Tiamat's is just pure destruction, no subtlety with that one.