The legions of Hell were in disarray.
For the first ti in countless invasions, the Devils—veterans of endless wars across planes and worlds—found themselves stunned. They had crushed civilizations older than stars and burned holy empires to ash, yet they had never encountered planetary defenses like these.
It was not just the sheer firepower that shocked them, but the precision. Every cannon, every energy array, every orbital gun was perfectly placed—woven into a seamless net of destruction that filled every inch of the sky with detonations. Whoever had designed this system understood warfare at a level even Hell feared.
And Terra had only just begun to fight back.
From the surface of the world, hundreds of warriors shot into the air, their bodies wreathed in burning light. At first glance, they looked human—until their auras flared.
One by one, they released the power of Legendary Demon Souls, bound within their hearts. The energy that erupted from them shook the firmant. Their flesh twisted and strengthened, bones reforged by the essence of the abyss, transforming them into towering figures of pure might.
These were the Nightmare Knights, the elite who had ventured into the Abyss and returned as Demon Soul Masters. They had fought, bled, and died to obtain the strength needed to protect their ho. And now, they unleashed it without hesitation.
They dove into the Devil army, roaring battle cries that resonated with their sealed demonic souls. Their blades burned with chaos and faith alike as they cut through the enemy ranks, ripping through wings and armor with unmatched ferocity.
The Devils tried to adapt. Their commanders bellowed orders, attempting to reform the ranks and encircle the oncoming warriors—but it was no use.
Between the Nightmare Universe devouring thousands of them every second, the Xaos Tower and planetary weapons blasting hundreds more from the sky, and the Legendary Demon Soul Masters cleaving through their ranks, the tide was beyond turning.
The invasion was collapsing before a single Devil had even touched the surface of the world.
High above, amidst the void, the True Depravita of Wrath surveyed the battle with a cold, sharp smile. Through his connection to Terra, he could sense every clash, every soul that flickered between life and death. Knowing that his people were holding the line—that his ho was safe—filled him with grim satisfaction.
He turned his gaze toward his opponent: the colossal, draconic Devil Lord, Alioth.
The beast’s scales shimred with violet energy, each plate dense enough to resist Overlord’s god weapons. That was why Vlad faced him directly.
Vlad drew from Terra’s Origin Power, channeling the world’s primal essence through his body, and wielded his sword. The weapon pulsed with condensed fury as he swung it down, splitting through Alioth’s scales and carving a burning wound across the monster’s chest.
"AARRRRGHHHHH!"
Alioth’s roar tore through the void like thunder. The sword had not only cut his flesh but also scorched his very soul, leaving behind the scent of smoldering spirit.
The Devil Lord lunged, moving with terrifying speed despite his size. His massive claws ignited with violet hellfire, flas potent enough to burn through the fabric of stars. He swung, and space itself seed to scream.
But his blow t nothing.
Alioth’s claws passed through Vlad’s body as though the man were smoke—a phantom flickering between dinsions. The Devil Lord’s eyes widened in shock.
Vlad said nothing. He would not explain his Gift. Instead, he countered. His sword flashed again, this ti slicing across Alioth’s neck, sending a river of black blood spraying into the darkness.
Each droplet burned with infernal fire before vanishing into the void.
Not far away, Overlord was locked in combat with Nebolex, the spider-like ruler of Sector Four. Their duel was brutal and relentless.
Unlike Vlad, Overlord’s Archangel’s body was not as durable. Though it carried divine energy, it was less powerful than Vlad’s Ultimate Form. Moreover, Overlord was not a World King; he could not draw directly upon Origin Power to augnt himself.
Even so, the A.I. Chip Clone fought with chanical precision and divine will. Durendal glead in his hands, arcs of golden light slicing through the web-like limbs of the colossal demon. Each strike carried perfect timing and intent.
Nebolex raged, his mind boiling with fury. This was his chance to claim vengeance upon the group who had humiliated him—those who had once tricked him and wounded his pride before escaping from Hell. He had waited long for this mont. And yet now, even with Alioth by his side, he found himself pushed back.
He let out an enraged screech, his eight limbs slamming forward. One claw struck true, raking across Overlord’s armor, sending sparks of divine light into the void.
Overlord staggered but held his ground. He raised Durendal once more, parrying the next blow while unleashing a storm of god-weapons.
The barrage struck Nebolex like a golden tempest, forcing the spider Lord backward.
The void trembled. Energy waves rippled through the boundary of space, tearing small holes in reality. The clash between the two sides grew fiercer, wounds appearing on both, yet neither was able to claim victory.
anwhile, within Terra’s atmosphere, the outco was no longer in question.
The Nightmare Universe consud thousands of Devils by the second.
The Xaos Tower continued its relentless bombardnt.
The Demon Soul Masters tore through what remained of the infernal ranks.
The battle had turned into a one-sided massacre.
Even the few high-ranking Devils who managed to breach the planetary shields found no victory waiting for them. The surface was covered in fortress dos made of crystallized divine alloy, impervious to anything below the level of a Lord. Not a single civilian life was lost.
Within less than an hour, the invasion of Hell began to collapse. The once-endless swarm had dwindled to a scattering of survivors—those who still fought out of madness rather than purpose.
In the void above, the clash of titans raged on.
Alioth’s movents grew heavier, his blood leaking like rivers of molten night. Nebolex’s armor was cracked, ichor dripping from his mandibles. Even Overlord’s celestial form was splintered, his wings dimd, but still, he fought on.
And amidst that chaos, Vlad’s golden eyes blazed with rciless light.
Now that the battle on Terra’s surface was all but finished, and his armies had secured victory, Vlad could finally redirect one of the imnse power channels being used to protect the planet.
He took a slow, deliberate breath. The Eye of Gluttony ignited upon his forehead, burning with bottomless hunger as he raised his sword. At his call, the sun atop the Xaos Tower flared brighter, its light rippling like a heartbeat across the sky.
Then, in a single flash, that radiance condensed into a stream of golden energy and descended, rging seamlessly into Vlad’s weapon.
The result was staggering. The sword howled, vibrating with the power of millions of souls unified in purpose—the very essence of Xaos Faith.
Normally, not even Vlad’s monstrous body could endure such divine force. Even with the Eye of Gluttony, controlling this much power should have torn him apart from within. But this was not the energy of so distant god—it was the faith of his own people. Its essence resonated with his soul, bending to his wrath rather than resisting it.
The True Depravita of Wrath had never sought the path of godhood. He despised the notion of divinity, the hierarchy that chained mortals beneath false heavens. But that did not an he would refuse the strength that his people freely offered him.
If the faith of Terra could protect his world, he would wield it.
Far across the void, Alioth felt his instincts scream. The draconic Devil Lord’s entire being shuddered with primal fear as he witnessed the storm of power gathering in Vlad’s blade.
Every scale on his body pulsed with warning, his heart pounding in panic.
Alioth roared, summoning a catastrophic surge of violet energy within his chest. He spread his wings, and from his maw erupted a beam of annihilation, wide enough to engulf a continent. Space fractured under its force, turning the nearby stars to dust.
But it was already too late.
Vlad’s body beca intangible, and the Devil Lord’s beam tore through empty air.
In the next instant, the Depravita of Wrath reappeared directly before Alioth, his body shimring between dinsions. His blade pulsed once, then descended.
"Judgnt."
The sword struck the Devil Lord’s chest, piercing through scales, flesh, and bone, all the way into his blackened heart.
A blinding explosion of golden light followed, tearing through the void. The force of it echoed across the heavens like the roar of a newborn sun.
When the light faded, Alioth’s enormous body spiraled backward, tumbling uncontrollably through the stars. A gaping wound tore across his torso, glowing with divine fire that refused to fade.
Pain unlike anything he had ever known consud him. His heart—his very soul—was burning.
The draconic Lord let out a guttural, agonized roar. And then, without a single shred of hesitation, he turned and fled.
The plan had failed. The infernal army was destroyed. His ally was faltering. Remaining here would an death.
All that mattered now was survival.
Alioth beat his tattered wings, ripping open a rift in space as he fled back toward the depths of Hell, desperate to reach his domain and heal before the divine fire reached his core.
He didn’t even glance at Nebolex, still locked in combat with Overlord. The dragon’s eyes flickered with hatred and bla.
In Alioth’s mind, everything that had gone wrong—the failed teleportation, the lost army, the unbearable humiliation—was Nebolex’s fault.
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