DxD: Fusion-Chapter 61: Cooperation

"Watch over them," Sona instructed Tsubaki, indicating her head toward the two new peerage members.

"Right. I’ll keep tabs here in the meantime. Make sure nothing else happens while everyone’s away." The loyal Queen replied.

Sona looked at the two first years. Murayama and Katase. She hadn’t planned on adding peerage members today, but given their sword talents, they should make good additions. They were at the infirmary at Kuoh Academy. Even though it would have been closed, being a co-devil King for an entire area had its perks.

Sona pulled out her interdimensional cellphone to check for notifications.

"Where is Sirzechs-sama? He should have gotten back to me by now," Sona said anxiously. They didn’t have the luxury of time. Just then, a teleportation sigil lit up the floor in a familiar red glow. Turning towards the disturbance, Sona was relieved to see the strongest Maou.

"Sorry for the delay, I was recruiting a few allies." As a few more sigils lit up the room, Sona was shocked to see who walked out of them, and was immediately on guard because of one in particular.

"Sorry for the scare, Miss Sitri. Even though our factions may not be on the best of terms, I figured coming together to face a force threatening all of Japan was probably in everyone’s best interest. Ours included." Had the situation been different, Sona might have found the man’s smirk and presence as a threat to Tsubaki and herself.

"That is quite alright. It’s nice to have allies for a change." Sona bowed curtly in respect.

"Now then, let’s get to it. I hear my sister got herself involved in something dangerous this time," Sirzechs said menacingly. Given who the enemy was, Sona was sure he was eager for a fight.

XXX

"How far does this barrier go!" Rias complained. She, Kiba, and Akeno were racing to the edge of it as fast as they could. She was relieved when no demons followed them. However, the other half of her was torn up over leaving Toshio and Serafall behind to deal with all of them. The rest of the Youkai forces to a minor degree.

No one answered her question. Akeno hadn’t stopped crying, constantly sending furious glares her way. Rias didn’t blame her, but she wasn’t going to let her entire peerage die. Kunou wasn’t much better than Akeno, although she had stopped throwing a tantrum over Kiba’s shoulder. The first few minutes of them escaping was her lashing wildly in Kiba’s grip, desperately trying to save her mother, obviously an impossible challenge for her alone.

Rias’s legs burned as they pushed deeper into the forest, the unnatural barrier still stretching endlessly around them. Every step away from the battlefield felt like a betrayal, even as logic screamed that Toshio’s sacrifice would be meaningless if they didn’t escape.

Behind them, the glow of battle painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold—demonic fire mixing with corrupted leyline energy in a display that would have been beautiful if it weren’t so horrifying.

"We’re almost there," Kiba said, his voice strained. "I can feel the barrier weakening ahead."

Akeno’s tears had stopped, but the fury radiating from her was palpable. Lightning crackled weakly across her fingertips despite her magical exhaustion, her body instinctively preparing for violence even when she had nothing left to give.

Rias understood that rage intimately. The King’s Command had compelled Akeno’s body to obey, but it couldn’t touch her heart. That distinction—the difference between physical compliance and emotional acceptance—was a wound that might never fully heal between them.

I had no choice, Rias told herself for the hundredth time. If we’d stayed, we all would have died.

The logic was sound. The execution was necessary. But neither fact made the guilt any lighter.

Kunou had gone silent over Kiba’s shoulder, her earlier struggles replaced by a hollow stillness that was somehow worse. The young princess’s eyes had lost the luster of life, staring aimlessly at the ground.

"There it is!" Kiba yelled. They saw in front of them a semi-translucent barrier stretching as wide and as tall as their enhanced eyes could see. They didn’t stop as they breached past the barrier, the magic offering no resistance to keep them in. They stopped a short distance away to catch their breath.

A flash of azul light lit up not far from them, displaying a familiar family sigil. Sona stepped out first, then raced over to Rias as soon as she saw her.

"Rias! Are you okay? What happened?" Sona asked in a level but urgent tone.

Before Rias could answer, a few more people appeared next to her.

"Sirzechs," Rias breathed, relief flooding through her at the sight of her brother. The Crimson Satan’s expression was grim, his usual warm demeanor replaced by something cold and calculating.

Behind him emerged others—Azazel, the Governor General of the Grigori, his casual posture belying the dangerous intelligence in his eyes. Riser Phenex appeared next, his peerage materializing in a coordinated formation around him. Then came Sairaorg Bael, his lion-like presence commanding immediate respect. And finally, Vali Lucifer, the White Dragon Emperor himself, whose silver hair and calculating gaze swept across the assembled group with predatory interest.

"Big brother..." Rias’s voice cracked despite her efforts to maintain composure.

"Rias." Sirzechs moved to his sister, his hands briefly touching her shoulders as he assessed her condition. Burns, cuts, magical exhaustion—but alive. Just by looking at her and the others, he could tell just how brutal the battlefield must have been. He felt a surge of guilt at the thought of his sister experiencing the horrors of war so young.

"Where is Serafall?"

The question hung in the air like a guillotine blade.

"She’s still there," Rias said, her voice barely above a whisper. "With Toshio. They stayed behind to—"

"The human stayed?" Vali interrupted, genuine surprise coloring his usually bored tone. "Against a force that required a Maou’s intervention?" Ignoring the comment, Sirzechs turned his attention toward the battlefield and could indeed sense his fellow maou.

"He’s stronger than he looks," Kiba said quietly, though the tremor in his voice suggested he didn’t believe his own words.

Sirzechs’ expression hardened at Kiba’s words. The Crimson Satan focused his gaze toward the barrier. Anti-teleportation and communication. A simple but terrifyingly strong barrier. He pushed his attention back toward the battlefield. The power signature radiating from within—Lucion’s overwhelming presence mixed with corrupted leyline energy—painted a grim picture. He looked back at his sister.

"Rias, Akeno, Kiba, this is Azazel, governor general of the fallen angels. He brought his own ally, the white dragon emperor." Vali nodded his head once, indifferent arrogance displayed on his face.

"You should know the rest." Rias was only momentarily surprised and bitter to see Riser. Despite her hatred toward him, he was undeniably powerful.

"Figured we should help out, plus I was curious about this demon lord and the ritual they were performing," Azazel said casually. Rias nodded her head in their direction before returning her attention back to her brother.

"Now, how many forces remain inside?" Sirzechs asked, his voice carrying the weight of command.

"Approximately seven hundred youkai," Rias replied, her tactical mind still functioning despite her emotional turmoil. "Maybe one hundred fifty devils. Against..." She hesitated, the numbers almost too terrible to speak aloud. "Over a thousand demon oppressors. Fresh troops, enhanced by the corrupted leylines. And that’s what it was before we escaped, which was at least 10 minutes ago."

Sona shot her rival a confused look. It had taken her much longer to escape. Was the barrier shrinking?

Azazel whistled low, his usual casual demeanor slipping for a moment. "Those are suicide odds."

"Then we even them." Sirzechs’ aura flared, crimson power radiating from him in waves that made the very air tremble. The temperature spiked, then dropped, reality itself seeming to warp around the strongest Maou. "Azazel, you’ll assist me directly against Lucion. Riser, Sairaorg—your peerages will reinforce the youkai lines and eliminate the remaining demon troops. Vali—"

"I’ll handle whatever needs handling," the White Dragon Emperor interrupted, his silver wings already manifesting. Albion’s presence filled the air, a pressure that rivaled even Sirzechs’ display. "Though I’m curious about this human who thought he could fight a demon lord."

"Come on, Vali, maybe focus on saving the world first," Azazel said with a sigh.

Ignoring the banter, Sirzechs’s eyes found Sona. "You’ll coordinate from here. Look out for anyone else escaping. Once we get there, I’m ordering the youkai to retreat. I’m sure too many have already given their lives for this.

"I understand," Sona replied, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. She looked at her sister’s location beyond the barrier, her hands clenching into fists.

Kunou perked up at that, surprised that a maou cared that much about her people. "Um, Sirzechs-sama?" she asked timidly, clearly frightened by the man’s intense aura. The maou’s face softened when he saw the small fox youkai, now standing beside Kiba. He walked over and kneeled in front of her.

"Please, save my mom," Kunou sobbed out, unable to stop herself from crying more. Sirzechs lightly placed his hand on her head.

"Don’t worry. That’s why we’re here." She sniffed once, trying to stop crying, and nodded once. He stood to face his dear sister.

"Stay here and recover. That’s an order, not a request."

"But—"

"Rias." The single word carried all the authority of a Maou and all the concern of an older brother. "You’ve done your part. Let me do mine."

Akeno stepped forward, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten. "Serafall-sama and Toshio are still alive?" The desperate hope in her voice was painful to hear. She couldn’t sense them due to the massive beacon of power coming off the leylines.

"We’ll find out soon," Sirzechs replied, though his expression suggested he wasn’t optimistic. He could sense Serafall, although she was quite a bit dimmer than she normally was. He didn’t sense the human’s aura at all. He hoped it was just because the human was weaker than all of the surrounding energies.

He could feel the mass of corrupted leyline energy, resulting in the completion of whatever ritual the demons had orchestrated. If Serafall hadn’t been able to stop it, if she and the human had been fighting alone all this time...

The thought remained unfinished as Sirzechs turned toward the barrier.

XXX

On the battlefield, the youkai forces were being systematically slaughtered.

The oppressors moved with terrifying coordination, their massive forms working in concert to crush any resistance. Unlike the chaotic demon troops that had preceded them, these elite warriors fought with disciplined precision that spoke to centuries of military training.

An oni warrior—one who had survived hours of brutal combat—found himself surrounded by three oppressors. His tetsubo, which had crushed dozens of lesser demons, barely dented the first oppressor’s armor. The counterattack was swift and merciless. A bone wing sliced through his midsection while a spiked club caved in his skull. The oni’s body hit the ground in pieces.

Similar scenes played out across the battlefield. Kitsune warriors who had fought with supernatural grace found their speed meaningless against enemies who could predict their movements. Tanuki scouts who had relied on transformation magic discovered that the oppressors could sense their true forms through any disguise.

The corrupted leyline energy continued to flow into the demon forces, making them stronger with each passing second while simultaneously draining the youkai of their spiritual power. It was a double-edged sword that cut deeper with every moment.

The youkai general—the massive oni who had led the initial charge—stood at the center of the collapsing formation, his tetsubo slick with demon blood. He was surrounded by the corpses of at least fifty oppressors, a testament to his incredible strength. But even he was faltering now.

An oppressor’s club caught him in the ribs, cracking armor that had withstood countless blows. Another struck from behind, driving him to one knee. A third raised its weapon for the killing blow.

"FOR YASAKA-SAMA!" The general’s final roar echoed across the battlefield as he surged to his feet, his tetsubo taking the heads off two oppressors in a single devastating swing.

Then five more descended upon him, and the great warrior fell.

His death sent a ripple of despair through the remaining youkai forces. If their strongest champion could be brought down, what hope did the rest have?

The answer, it seemed, was very little.

The oppressors pressed their advantage, their formation tightening around the survivors like a noose. The youkai fought with the desperate fury of those who knew death was inevitable, taking as many enemies with them as possible.

Inside the cave, deep beneath the battlefield’s carnage, Yasaka’s corrupted form writhed against the ethereal chains binding her nine tails. The binding stone pulsed with each beat of her heart, drawing more of her power and feeding it into the network of corrupted leyline nodes that now stretched across all of Kyoto and beyond.

Her consciousness flickered between awareness and oblivion. In her lucid moments, she could feel what was being done to her—her power twisted and perverted, her connection to the land she’d protected for centuries turned into a weapon against her own people.

She could sense the deaths of her warriors, each one a knife through her heart. Could feel Kunou’s desperate fear and rage from somewhere beyond the barrier. Could taste the corruption spreading through the leylines like poison through veins.

But she couldn’t break free.

The binding ritual was complete now, the demonic magic too strong for even her considerable power to overcome alone. She needed help. Needed someone to destroy the binding stone, to sever the connection that was slowly draining her life force.

Yasaka’s golden eyes, usually so bright and fierce, had dimmed to barely glowing embers. Her nine tails, which should have radiated divine power, hung limp and gray. Her breathing came in shallow gasps, each one more labored than the last.

She was dying.

Not quickly—the demons needed her alive for the ritual to continue functioning properly—but dying nonetheless. Each pulse of the binding stone took a little more of her essence, feeding it into Lucion’s grand design.

Above her, the ritual circle glowed with malevolent crimson light. Runes carved into the cave walls pulsed in rhythm with her failing heartbeat. The air itself felt thick with corruption, making it difficult to breathe even for the demons who remained on guard.

Two demon overseers stood watch at the chamber’s entrance, their red eyes fixed on the bound kitsune. They’d been ordered to ensure nothing disturbed the ritual, to kill anything that attempted to interfere.

Yasaka’s consciousness was brief, but what she felt outside gave her a glimmer of hope. Then her mind returned to oblivion.

Outside, at the edge of the barrier, Sirzechs Lucifer placed his hand against the translucent wall of energy. His crimson aura flared, power gathering as he analyzed the barrier’s structure and composition.

"Anti-teleportation, anti-communication, and spatial distortion," he said, his analytical mind parsing the complex magic. "Whoever designed this knew what they were doing."

"Can you break it?" Azazel asked, moving to stand beside the Maou.

"Not like this." Sirzechs’ hand began to glow with concentrated destruction energy—the true Power of Destruction that made the Bael clan’s version look like a pale imitation. "Looks like we’ll have to either kill the castor or disrupt their flow of power into it.

"They shouldn’t be expecting reinforcements. You’ll have the element of surprise at least." Sona commented behind them.

"Then we make the surprise count." Vali’s wings spread wider, Albion’s power radiating from him in waves. "I’ll hit them hard and fast while they’re still processing our arrival. Draw attention while you move toward Lucion."

Riser stepped forward, his peerage assembled behind him. "My flames will cut through their ranks. These oppressors may be strong, but they’ve never faced a Phenex at full power."

Sairaorg cracked his knuckles, regulus energy already beginning to manifest around his form. "I’ll head straight for their command structure. Cut off the head; the body falls."

Sirzechs nodded, satisfied with the coordination. His eyes found Rias one final time, drinking in the sight of his sister alive and relatively safe despite the horrors she’d endured.

"Stay here," he said again, his voice carrying both command and plea. "No matter what you hear or see, stay here."

Rias wanted to argue and wanted to charge back into that hell alongside her brother. But on top of her exhausted form, she’d seen Lucion’s power and understood the magnitude of the threat they faced. If she went back now, she’d only be a liability.

"I’ll be here," she whispered instead. "Please come back."

Sirzechs smiled—a rare, genuine expression that softened his usually stoic features. "I have no intention of dying to some upstart demon who thinks stealing power makes him strong."

He turned back to the barrier.

"Everyone ready?"

A chorus of affirmatives answered him.

"Let’s move."

Surprisingly, it did not take long for them to reach the battlefield.

For the opening attack, the Power of Destruction erupted from Sirzechs’ palm in a concentrated beam that made Rias’s attacks look like candle flames. Thirty demon oppressors who were about to kill the youkai in front of them were annihilated in an instant.

The effect was immediate and dramatic.

Every being on the battlefield—youkai, demon, and oppressor alike—felt the surge of energy from the reinforcements like a physical blow. Heads snapped toward the source of the disturbance, toward the five figures now standing at what had been the barrier’s edge.

Lucion, still standing before the cave entrance with his magma blood sun pulsing behind him, turned his attention away from Serafall’s broken form. His eyes widened fractionally as he recognized the crimson-haired figure at the center of the new arrivals.

"Sirzechs Lucifer," the demon lord said, something approaching respect entering his voice. "How unexpected. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the strongest Maou would eventually take notice of our work here."

Sirzechs didn’t respond immediately. His eyes swept across the battlefield, taking in the carnage, the dying youkai, the oppressor forces, and finally settling on Serafall’s kneeling form near the cave mouth, bloody and panting.

His aura exploded outward.

The pressure that rolled off the Crimson Satan made Lucion’s earlier display seem insignificant by comparison. Reality itself seemed to bend around Sirzechs, the very fabric of space warping in response to his power. The ground cracked beneath his feet, not from physical force but from the sheer weight of his presence.

Every combatant on the battlefield felt it—that suffocating, overwhelming pressure that spoke to the difference between power and Power. The youkai, despite their exhaustion and despair, felt a spark of hope kindle in their chests. The demons, even the mighty oppressors, felt the first cold touch of fear.

"Azazel," Sirzechs said, his voice carrying across the battlefield with perfect clarity despite the chaos. "See to Serafall. Vali, Riser, Sairaorg—eliminate the demon forces. Leave none alive."

"And you?" Azazel asked, though he already knew the answer.

Sirzechs’ eyes locked with Lucion’s across the blood-soaked earth.

"I’m going to show this has-been what true power looks like."

Serafall staggered backward from the cave entrance, her legs threatening to give out beneath her. Every step sent fresh agony through her burned and battered body, but she forced herself to move. Behind her, Lucion’s laughter echoed across the battlefield, mocking her retreat.

She stumbled past the dying youkai, past the oppressors still locked in combat with the surviving warriors, her vision blurring from exhaustion and pain. The magical girl outfit that had once been her trademark was little more than charred rags clinging to her frame.

Then she saw him.

"Zechs-tan!" The cry tore from her throat, equal parts relief and desperation.

Sirzechs was already moving toward her, his crimson aura parting the chaos like a blade through water. He caught her before she could fall, his hands gentle despite the power radiating from them.

"Serafall." His voice was soft, meant only for her. "Are you—"

"I’m fine," she lied, though blood dripped from a dozen wounds and her breathing came in ragged gasps. "But Toshio... he’s..." She couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t give voice to what she’d witnessed.

Sirzechs’ eyes found the human’s body lying motionless near the cave entrance, the hole through his skull visible even from this distance. His jaw tightened, but his focus remained on his fellow Maou.

"Can you fight?"

Serafall’s laugh was bitter. "Not much. Maybe one more big spell if I’m lucky."

"Then rest. We’ll handle this."

"No." She pushed away from him, standing on trembling legs. "He killed one of my friends. I’m seeing this through."

Sirzechs studied her for a moment, then nodded once. He understood that need—the requirement to witness justice delivered with your own eyes.

"Stay back until we create an opening," he said. "Then hit him with everything you have left."

He turned his attention to the demon lord standing before the cave, and his expression shifted from concern to something cold and calculating. The warmth that had been present when speaking to Serafall vanished, replaced by the face of the strongest Maou—a being who had ended the Great War and reshaped the Underworld through sheer force of will.

Lucion watched their exchange with amusement, his magma blood sun pulsing with renewed intensity behind him. The corrupted leyline energy continued to flood into his form, making his aura swell with each passing second.

"How touching," the demon lord called out, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "The great Sirzechs Lucifer, come to save his pathetic allies. Tell me, do you really think your presence changes anything?"

Sirzechs didn’t respond. He simply began walking forward, his crimson aura intensifying with each step. The pressure radiating from him made the air itself feel heavy, oppressive in a way that had nothing to do with temperature.

Lucion’s smile widened. "Silent treatment? How disappointing. I expected more banter from the legendary—"

The Power of Destruction erupted from Sirzechs’ hand without warning or preamble.

The beam was massive—easily ten times the size of anything Rias could produce—and it moved faster than most beings could track. It carved through the space between them in a fraction of a second, its crimson light painting everything in shades of annihilation.

Lucion’s magma blood sun intercepted it, the two powers colliding with a sound like reality tearing. The shockwave rippled outward, forcing combatants on both sides to brace themselves or be thrown aside.

When the energy dissipated, Lucion stood unharmed, though his blood sun had dimmed noticeably from the effort of blocking.

"Better," the demon lord acknowledged. "But still—" 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Azazel’s light spear materialized in Lucion’s blind spot, the holy energy crackling as it drove toward the demon’s exposed back. Lucion twisted at the last moment, catching the spear with his bare hand. The holy energy seared his palm, but his grip held.

"The Fallen Angel Governor," Lucion said, his eyes finding Azazel. "How delightful. Two leaders for the price of one."

He crushed the light spear, fragments of holy energy scattering like glass. But the momentary distraction had cost him.

Sirzechs was already moving, closing the distance with speed that belied his massive power. His fist, wreathed in destruction energy, drove toward Lucion’s chest with enough force to crater mountains.

Lucion blocked with both arms crossed, but the impact sent him skidding backward across the blood-soaked earth. His feet carved twin trenches through stone and corpses alike, the force of the blow overwhelming even his enhanced strength.

"Now that," Lucion said, examining his arms where the destruction energy had burned through his defenses and scorched flesh, "was impressive."

Azazel appeared on his left, another light spear forming. Sirzechs materialized on his right, destruction energy gathering around both hands. They attacked simultaneously, their coordination almost like they’d spent centuries fighting together.

Lucion’s response was immediate and devastating. His magma blood sun exploded outward in a wave of searing heat that forced both attackers to retreat. The temperature spiked so dramatically that nearby corpses burst into flame, their flesh igniting like kindling.

"You’re strong, Lucifer," Lucion admitted, his aura intensifying further as more corrupted leyline energy flooded into his form. "Stronger than I anticipated. But you’re fighting at a disadvantage."

He gestured broadly at the corrupted pillar of energy still erupting from the ground, at the network of tainted leylines feeding him power.

"Every second this battle continues, I grow stronger. Can you say the same?"

Sirzechs’ expression didn’t change. "I don’t need to grow stronger. I just need to last long enough for you to burn through that stolen power."

Lucion’s confident smile faltered slightly. The Crimson Satan had identified the weakness—the corrupted leyline energy was finite, and maintaining his enhanced state was draining it at a tremendous rate. If the battle dragged on too long...

"Then I suppose I’ll have to end this quickly," Lucion said, his voice dropping to something dangerous.

The magma blood sun behind him pulsed once, twice, then began to collapse inward. The temperature around the demon lord spiked even higher as the energy compressed, becoming denser and more concentrated. The air itself began to shimmer and warp from the heat.

Sirzechs recognized the technique immediately—Lucion was sacrificing the sustained power of the blood sun for a single devastating attack. The kind of technique that could obliterate everything within a mile radius.

"Azazel, get the youkai clear!"

The Fallen Angel Governor didn’t argue. He flashed toward the surviving youkai warriors, his wings spreading wide as he began coordinating their retreat. The youkai, exhausted and bloodied but still alive, didn’t need to be told twice. They began falling back, putting distance between themselves and the gathering catastrophe.

Serafall, watching from her position near the youkai lines, understood what was coming. Her hands began weaving spell patterns despite her exhaustion, ice magic gathering around her trembling fingers.

On the far side of the battlefield, Vali’s voice cut through the chaos as he carved through a group of oppressors with contemptuous ease. "Divide!" His Sacred Gear’s power activated, halving the strength of every demon within range. The oppressors that had seemed invincible moments before suddenly found themselves vulnerable.

Riser’s flames swept through another section of the demon forces, his peerage working in perfect coordination to eliminate any survivors. Sairaorg’s fists, enhanced by Regulus, pulverized oppressors three at a time, each strike carrying enough force to shatter their enhanced armor like porcelain.

The tide of battle had shifted dramatically. What had been a massacre of the youkai forces was now becoming a systematic extermination of the demon army.

But none of that mattered if Lucion’s attack succeeded.

The compressed blood sun had shrunk to the size of a basketball, its surface roiling with barely contained power. Lucion held it between his hands, his expression one of savage satisfaction.

"Let’s see you survive this, Lucifer!"

He thrust the sphere forward, and it rocketed toward Sirzechs with impossible speed.

Sirzechs didn’t dodge. He couldn’t—the attack was too fast, too powerful. If he moved, it would continue past him and obliterate the retreating youkai forces behind him.

Instead, he raised both hands and unleashed the full scope of his Power of Destruction.

The beam that erupted from his palms made his earlier attacks look like child’s play. It was pure annihilation given form, the fundamental power that had made him the strongest Maou. Where it touched, reality itself seemed to unravel, existence ceasing at the most fundamental level.

The two attacks collided.

The explosion was apocalyptic. A sphere of destructive energy expanded outward from the point of impact, consuming everything within fifty meters. Stone vaporized. Corpses disintegrated. The very air ignited from the sheer concentration of power.

When the light finally faded, Sirzechs stood at the center of a perfectly circular crater, his breathing slightly elevated but otherwise unharmed. His crimson aura had formed a protective barrier around him, the Power of Destruction so absolute that even Lucion’s ultimate attack couldn’t penetrate it.

Lucion stared at the Crimson Satan, genuine shock crossing his features for the first time.

"Impossible," he breathed. "That attack should have—"

"Should have killed anyone weaker than me," Sirzechs finished, his voice cold. "But I’m not weaker than you. I never was."

The demon lord’s confidence cracked, replaced by something approaching fear. He’d burned through a massive amount of his accumulated power for that attack, and it had accomplished nothing.

Serafall chose that moment to strike.

"Celsius Cross Trigger!"

The spell erupted from her position, ice magic flooding across the battlefield with desperate intensity. It wasn’t as powerful as her earlier Absolute Zero—she simply didn’t have the reserves left for that—but it was enough.

The ice raced across the ground, climbing up Lucion’s legs, encasing his lower body in a crystalline prison. He snarled and shattered it with a pulse of heat, but the momentary distraction was all Sirzechs needed.

The Crimson Satan appeared directly in front of Lucion, moving faster than the demon lord could track. His hand, wreathed in destruction energy, drove into Lucion’s chest.

The Power of Destruction flooded through the demon’s body, not just destroying flesh but erasing it at a fundamental level. Lucion screamed, a sound of genuine agony, as he felt his very existence beginning to unravel.

Azazel’s light spear pierced through Lucion’s back at the same moment, the holy energy burning through corrupted flesh and bone. The demon lord found himself impaled from both directions, caught between annihilation and purification.

"This... this cannot..." Lucion’s words came out as blood-soaked gasps.

Serafall’s ice magic struck again, this time targeting not Lucion but the ground beneath him. A massive pillar of ice erupted upward, throwing the demon lord away from Sirzechs and Azazel.

Serafall stumbled away from the ice pillar, her legs finally giving out beneath her. She collapsed to her knees among the retreating youkai warriors, her breathing ragged and her vision swimming. The burns covering her left side screamed with every movement, but she forced herself to remain conscious.

Lucion pulled himself from the ice, his body smoking from the combined assault. The hole in his chest from Sirzechs’ destruction energy was already beginning to close, corrupted leyline energy flooding into the wound to regenerate the damage. But the process was slower now, more labored.

"Zechs-tan!" Serafall’s voice carried across the battlefield despite her exhaustion.

Sirzechs materialized beside his fellow Maou, his expression softening fractionally as he assessed her condition. "You’ve done well. Rest now."

"Can’t... still need to..." Her words came out slurred, her body finally reaching its absolute limit.

"I know." He placed a hand briefly on her shoulder, a gesture of understanding and solidarity. "But let us handle the rest. You’ve bought us the opening we needed."

Serafall nodded weakly, then allowed herself to sink further to the ground. Around her, youkai warriors formed a protective circle, their weapons raised despite their own exhaustion. They would guard their Maou ally with their lives.

Sirzechs straightened, his crimson aura flaring as he turned his full attention back to Lucion. The demon lord had recovered his footing, but something had changed in his demeanor. The casual confidence that had defined his earlier presence had been replaced by something akin to fear and far more desperate.

The demon lord’s eyes found the cave mouth behind him, and a desperate plan formed. If he couldn’t defeat them through direct combat, he would force a stalemate by using the one thing they couldn’t risk destroying.

Lucion burst backward with explosive speed, covering the distance to the cave in seconds. He positioned himself directly before the entrance, his aura expanding to fill the space.

"Come then!" he roared. "Strike me down if you dare! But know that any attack powerful enough to kill me will collapse this entire cave system. And your precious nine-tailed fox will be buried alive beneath a mountain of stone!"

Sirzechs and Azazel halted their advance, exchanging a brief glance. The demon was right—unleashing their full power this close to the cave would be catastrophic for Yasaka. Sirzechs turns his attention back to Serafall.

"Can you manage one last attack?" Serafall was nearly drained of all her magic power from the prolonged combat.

"For you Zechs-tan, anything," she panted out.

"You see?! You cannot win, you insolent pretenders! I hold all the cards!" Lucion shouted manically, his arms held wide as the energy kept flowing through him.

"I guess that means I’ll have to get serious then," Sirzechs replied. Then, a massive wall of ice erupted behind Lucion, dividing him from the cave. It was the densest ice Serafall had ever created.

The crimson-haired maou appeared off to Lucion’s side, so his attack didn’t risk hitting the cave behind. Azazel did the same, but on the other side, revealing Blazer Shining Aura Darkness Blade, one of Azazel’s strongest trump cards. The strongest artificial sacred gear. They both charged their attacks in an instant.

Sirzechs formed balls of destruction, the demonic bullets of annihilation, launching them at Lucion. The slash from Azazel, not much weaker, screamed toward the demon lord. Lucion, recognizing the danger of the attacks immediately, knew he wouldn’t survive. In a frantic motion, a portal opened, enveloping his form. Long-distance teleportation. The two attacks sailed past where the demon once stood, passing through the ice like it wasn’t even there.

Due to their upward trajectory, they continued their path into the sky, eventually erupting into apocalyptic explosions, painting the battlefield in an eerie red glow.

"Damnit, almost had him," Azazel commented, snapping his fingers, standing from his lowered form.

"Hmph. Now that he’s gone, let’s clean up his friends before he comes back." That’s when they realized that his last-second teleport also took every demon corpse with him.

"Huh. Well, that can’t be good," Azazel commented again. Sirzechs just sighed exasperatedly.

"Come on." They entered into the fray, turning the tide even further.

Vali’s silver wings cut through the air as he descended on a cluster of oppressors attempting to regroup near the secondary earth ramp. His voice rang out with cold precision. "Divide! Divide! Divide!" Each activation of his Sacred Gear’s power halved the demons’ strength, reducing the once-mighty warriors to shadows of their former power. His fists, enhanced by the White Dragon Emperor’s might, tore through corrupted flesh with surgical efficiency.

Riser and his peerage swept through the eastern flank of the battlefield like wildfire incarnate. His flames consumed everything they touched—not the playful displays he’d shown during Rating Games, but the true destructive potential of a Phenex at war. His Queen, Yubelluna, coordinated their attacks with devastating precision, her bomb magic amplifying her King’s flames until entire formations of demons were reduced to ash.

Sairaorg carved a path of destruction through the western forces, his touki-enhanced strength making him effectively unstoppable. Each punch carried enough force to pulverize multiple oppressors simultaneously, their enhanced armor crumpling like paper beneath his assault. His peerage followed in his wake, finishing off any survivors with ruthless efficiency.

The remaining demon forces, already demoralized by Lucion’s sudden retreat, broke completely under the coordinated assault. Some attempted to flee, only to find their escape routes cut off by the devil reinforcements. Others fought with desperate fury, knowing death was inevitable but determined to take as many enemies with them as possible.

It took less than ten minutes to eliminate every remaining demon on the battlefield.

When the last oppressor fell—its skull crushed beneath Sairaorg’s fist—a momentary silence descended over the blood-soaked earth. Then, from somewhere in the youkai ranks, a single voice rose in a cry of victory. Another joined it. Then dozens. Within seconds, the entire surviving force was cheering, their voices raw with exhaustion and relief and the desperate joy of those who had survived the unsurvivable.

The celebration lasted exactly fifteen seconds before someone noticed the cave entrance.

The corrupted energy that had been feeding Lucion’s power hadn’t dissipated with his retreat. If anything, it had intensified. The pillar of crimson light erupting from the cave mouth pulsed with malevolent rhythm, and from within its depths came a sound that made every warrior’s blood run cold.

A howl—bestial and agonized, carrying notes of something ancient and powerful being twisted into a mockery of its true nature.

The crimson pillar began to twist and coil, taking on a more defined shape. Nine massive tails became visible through the corrupted energy, each one thrashing with mindless fury. The form of a nine-tailed fox emerged from the chaos, but it was wrong—distorted by the demonic corruption flowing through it.

Yasaka’s true form had manifested, but the youkai queen was no longer in control.

The hurricane of corrupted energy surrounding her intensified, spreading out

The corrupted energy swirling around Yasaka’s transformed body expanded outward in violent pulses, each wave more destructive than the last. The hurricane of tainted power carved trenches through the blood-soaked earth, forcing even the celebrating warriors to stumble backward or be caught in its corrosive influence.

A young tengu who had survived hours of brutal combat made the mistake of standing too close. The corrupted energy touched his arm for barely a second before his flesh began to blacken and rot. His scream cut through the victory cheers like a knife, and the celebrating died instantly as everyone recognized the new threat.

Sirzechs materialized at the edge of the expanding corruption field, his crimson aura flaring as he erected a barrier to contain the worst of it. "Everyone back! Now!"

The youkai forces scrambled to comply, dragging their wounded away from the nine-tailed fox’s thrashing form. Some weren’t fast enough—three more warriors were caught by the expanding corruption before Serafall, despite her exhaustion, managed to erect additional ice barriers to channel the energy away from the survivors.

Vali descended from above, his silver wings spreading wide as he assessed the situation with calculating eyes. "The binding ritual is still active. Even with Lucion gone, it’s feeding off her power autonomously."

Azazel appeared beside him, Blazer Shining Aura Darkness Blade still manifested in his hand. "Which means somewhere in that cave system, there’s still a binding component anchoring the whole damn thing."

Sairaorg joined them, his massive frame positioning itself between the corrupted energy and the retreating youkai. His touki flared, creating another layer of protection. "Can we destroy it?"

"Not without killing her in the process," Serafall said, her voice strained as she maintained her ice barriers despite having almost nothing left. "The binding stone is connected directly to her life force now. Sever it wrong, and..."

She didn’t need to finish. They all understood.

The five of them—three Maou-class beings, a governor general, and the White Dragon Emperor—formed a loose circle around Yasaka’s corrupted form. The hurricane of tainted energy lashed against their combined defenses, each impact sending shockwaves across the battlefield.

Yasaka herself was barely visible through the swirling corruption. Her nine tails thrashed wildly, her fox form massive and terrible in its twisted state. Her eyes—usually golden and wise—burned with mindless crimson fury. The demonic corruption had reduced the proud queen of the youkai to little more than a beast.

The battle having ended, the barrier now shattered, it didn’t take long for Rias, Sona, their respective groups, and Kunou to return to the battlefield.

"MOTHER!" Kunou tried to run headfirst into the deadly swirling energies. Kiba caught her and held her back.

"Kunou-san, not yet!" Kiba grunted out. The fox girl was surprisingly strong.

"Nii-san, what’s happening?" Sirzechs glanced toward his sister. Although frustrated she came, despite his earlier command; he quickly let it go, knowing she would anyway.

"I’m not sure. While you’re here, help the survivors."

Akeno, close to her King, actively searching the battlefield, spotted a familiar form lying on the ground a few dozen feet from the mouth of the cave. Her heart nearly stopped, her breath hitched, and her hands trembled. A desperate whisper whimpered from her mouth.

"No..."