Asmodeus lifted the last remaining water orb, spinning it violently. The sphere fractured into countless smaller orbs, each rapidly shifting form— elongating, widening, transforming into glimmering aquatic weapons.
But Velisara wasn't about to let him finish. With a single mighty swing of her sword, a brilliant golden starburst shot forward. It slammed into the cluster of orbs, detonating on impact. The collision echoed like a thousand waves crashing all at once, the shockwave sending a fine mist and smoke curling around Asmodeus.
Both combatants descended, landing heavily in the heart of Neutron City's central square.
"Ah… the power of a Hero's Blessing truly is agony for us higher demons," Asmodeus muttered, a crooked smile curling on his lips. "But tell me, Velisara… can you break a magic circle as easily?"
"You're always so damned cocky," Velisara snapped.
Asmodeus chuckled darkly. "Have you ever heard of a spell called Cradle of the Downed King?"
"What are you talking about?!" Velisara demanded, narrowing her eyes.
"You'll know soon enough. You gave me the perfect moment to cast it."
From beneath Asmodeus's feet, streams of water burst from the ground, flooding outward in swirling tendrils. Asmodeus spread his arms wide as the torrent intensified. Alarmed, Velisara stabbed her sword into the earth, releasing a surge of holy light deep underground—but it failed to halt the water's rise. Slowly, Asmodeus began levitating.
"Ah… how arrogant of you, little Hero. You should have submitted to me. Becoming my slave wouldn't have brought you harm—only pleasures you've never dreamed of. But because of your pride, countless people will die." His voice boomed across the ruined square. "It's the perfect pattern: this world doesn't need any peace treaty! I, Asmodeus Furer, am the rightful ruler of the demon race. Bow before me, humans—not that mongrel Baldwin!"
Behind Asmodeus, an enormous magic circle shimmered into existence, spanning nearly the size of the entire battlefield. From its core, thick chains of water lashed out, writhing ominously.
"Is that… a ten-circle spell?" Velisara muttered in frustration.
"No… it's advanced-level, 8th class magic!" Lola shouted from below.
"Lola, what about the people?!" Velisara called out.
"Don't worry, Hero. Don't panic—panic isn't your thing anyway. The civilians are safe. But this spell is a problem. I might be able to disrupt it… but I'll need time to construct an anti-magic circle," Lola answered, her tone sharp and calculating.
"Wait, you're a mage?" Velisara blinked.
"Y-Yeah… yes I am. Now buy me time. Hold your breath for a long fight!" Lola snapped.
"No problem." Velisara launched herself skyward in a blur of speed, aiming straight for Asmodeus. She slashed her sword in a radiant arc, but Asmodeus met her with a dense water shield. Sparks of yellow lightning arced as sword met shield, cracking it apart—yet in that moment, water chains lashed around Velisara, binding her tightly.
Without pause, Asmodeus conjured a massive water blade, spinning it like a roaring chainsaw, and thrust it toward her immobilized form.
"These chains? They're compressed water pressure strong enough to collapse stone. I was going to use them on the city, but unfortunately—you'll be today's sacrificial lamb. Best of luck in dying."
"Asmodeus! You think your petty tricks can kill me?! How dare you underestimate Velisara Nath!" she roared, struggling fiercely.
"Yeah, yeah… but face the attack first." With a wave of his hand, water surged around Velisara, trapping her inside a sphere of churning liquid. The colossal magic circle above dissolved into particles, coalescing into a spectral throne that sank into the orb, sealing her inside.
Lola's heart pounded as she gripped her staff tightly. This is bad… inside that orb, Velisara doesn't just lack air—gravity is distorted, the temperature's plummeting… soon the water will turn black, her lungs will fill, her vision will blur, her mind will scatter… Lola bit her lip. If I finish the anti-magic circle, it might hurt Velisara too!
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by Asmodeus, who landed smoothly in front of her. His eyes glinted.
"Well, well… I didn't notice you properly before, but now that I have—my body's just reacting on its own. If you don't want to end up like her, don't resist, hot beauty." He smirked and gathered water into his palm, spinning it wickedly.
"I'm not your toy. You're a psycho who needs to be killed for a better society!" Lola spat.
"Oh? A mage, huh? That'll do just fine." With a grin, he hurled the water sphere at her.
These mortals treat me like a tool… should I reveal myself? Lola debated internally, but her expression stayed calm, fake fear painted expertly on her face.
As the water ball neared her, a shadow flickered—blurring into place faster than thought. A figure swept in, grabbing Lola and pulling her back several steps.
"Well, what do we have here?" The newcomer's voice was calm and sardonic. "I thought Neutron City was neutral ground—no fighting allowed. But rumors say terrorists always find an excuse to attack. What's this, Asmodeus? Did you quit your Demon lord job and join terrorists to become the demon king huh ?"
The figure was clad in a long robe, a deep hood shrouding his face.
Meanwhile, not far away, another skirmish unfolded. A group of black-robed men were mercilessly beating Mr. Smith.
"You weakling! How dare you get in the way of Tartaros?!" one of the robed men snarled, kicking him to the ground.
"Tch… I'm not weak… but I'll never tell you anything. Even if I saw a shadow user," Mr. Smith gritted out defiantly.
"Boss, forget it—Asmodeus is already fighting. Now's the perfect time to gather intel," another black-robe said.
"Hah! Luck is on our side today," the leader chuckled darkly. "We were going to kidnap him anyway, and here he comes crawling to us like a kitten!"
Mr. Smith smirked despite the blood on his lips. "Kidnap me? What a waste. You think your pathetic charm spells work on me? Your plan was doomed the moment you spoke it aloud." He barked a defiant laugh.
"You little sneaky dog!" the leader roared, kicking Smith hard enough to send him tumbling outside the city gates.
As one of the robed men lunged to punch Mr. Smith, a blur appeared beside him. A hand caught the incoming fist effortlessly. Before the attacker could react, the newcomer kicked him straight back through the city gates.
As Mr. Smith fell, the figure caught him midair and steadied him.
"Hey, Mr. Smith… long time no see. No point asking how you're doing, but tell me—how's the Queen?" the man asked with a small smile.
"Oh—it's you, sir! The Queen is doing well!" Mr. Smith replied quickly.
"Come now, Mr. Smith… you can call me by name," the man said casually.
By now, the other members of Tartaros had poured out from the gates.
"Who are you? You look like a Rance Republic soldier!" one of them snarled.
Several more soldiers in Rance Republic uniforms flanked the newcomer.
"Cornell, mind telling them who I am? Seems my face has been forgotten… perhaps I need to talk to people more. Public interest matters, after all," the man said dryly.
"With pleasure, sir," Cornell replied crisply. He faced the Tartaros men and bellowed:
"Listen up! This man is the Supreme Commander and Prime Minister of the Rance Republic! He's the founder of the Republic! He is none other than Theodore Cleisthenes!"
"Oh, Cornell, you didn't have to flatter me that much… but thank you." Theodore Cleisthenes gave a thin, knowing smile. "For your information, I was also once the War Minister of the Ausha Empire. Theodore Cleisthenes—at your service, my dear terrorists, I hope you will entertain me."