“Quit laughing. We’ve got real work.” Janus stared at Zero, his gaze a cold iron bar across the room.

Zero sat cross-legged, his grin crescent-bright. “It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ve set it all up.”

“Really? Those old fossils—what’s your plan?” Janus asked, words dropping like pebbles into a still pond.

Zero stretched like a cat in sunlight. “Talk to them.”

“What if they won’t budge?”

“Huh? Babe, you goin’ dumb? If talk won’t move them, we’ll beat them.” Zero’s smile flashed like a knife in morning light.

“You’re hopeless lately.” Janus pressed his palm to his forehead and sighed, steam leaking from a cracked kettle.

“Hahaha.” Laughter rolled like stones down a hill.

High above the Third Prince’s manor, clouds frayed like torn silk.

The girl slipped past one of Era’s energy blasts, eyes skimming the rooflines like swallows. She frowned. “Where did the Demon King go?”

She raised her staff. A purple sword met it with a ringing clash, and the girl shot backward like a leaf blown off the eave.

Era circled her blade through the air, a bright arc carved into mist. She sneered. “Judy, fight me distracted and you’ll lose your life.”

The girl shook her numb arm, pain prickling like ants. She swung her staff, summoning light sentinels with spears that streamed toward Era like a silver tide.

On Era’s other side, purple energy wings flickered, not quite solid, like flames trapped in crystal. She flared them wide and cut through the sentinels’ net in a streak. The sentinels shuddered as if struck; bodies broke into segments, then dissolved into light.

Era watched, annoyed, a thorn under her tongue. Damn it—she was only a hair faster than that mage; the woman kept throwing junk to trip her steps like vines in brush.

So from a distance, they flew at nearly the same pace.

They traded moves, light for blade, wing for ward.

Judy stopped circling above the manor. She turned, a swallow on a new wind, and sprinted away.

Era frowned and followed, her wings slicing cloud like oars through foam.

In moments, they cleared the sprawling estate, its roofs a dark sea.

Era bit her finger, irritation needling her. If this dragged on, other Divinity holders lurking in the capital might notice like wolves scenting blood.

After Judy’s sudden ambush, she couldn’t be sure what else hid here—what was coiled under this city’s tiles, what blade in velvet.

“Filthy woman! Is running all you can do? You won’t find the Demonic Lord. Let me kill you properly!” Era spat, her voice a whip in the wind.

Ahead, Judy snorted, dismissing her like dust.

This is madness—fighting a Fallen Angel midair. Aside from the skyborne line under the Supreme Demon Ruler, only true Angels can match them. Am I insane?

Just drag this idiot to the other guardians. That’s enough.

“Damn it. Wingstorm!”

Era muttered the spell; purple sigils flew from her brow like fireflies and spread along her wings like frost.

She halted, arms crossed, eyes on Judy’s retreat like a hunter at breath’s edge. She inhaled, long and steady.

“Fall.”

Above Judy, a massive purple vortex of feathers unfurled and dropped ahead of her like a storm-born whirlpool.

Each feather came knife-sharp, a flock of blades with a grinding hunger, all crashing toward Judy’s path.

Judy didn’t see. She kept tearing forward, a dart in white wind.

Era’s smile cooled. “Heh. Become part of the clouds.”

“Secret Art—Fixed Thunder Pool!”

Boom!

Just as the wingstorm was about to crown Judy’s head, lightning erupted from its core, a nest of serpents hissing open.

Feathers blasted apart in a sharp storm. A giant blue lightning cage grew around them, penned the blades, then broke them down to sparks.

Era stared, disbelief a shard of ice in her chest. Then her eyes cooled. “Which bored fool decided to court death?”

Judy glanced up at the change, fear knocking at her ribs. She patted her chest, a bird calming its flutter.

If not for Wever, she’d have died right there.

Not far off, a man in blue clothes stepped out of the cloud like a swimmer breaking through surf. He eyed Era and smiled. “Miss Era, hello. Looks like you recovered well.”

Era beat her wings and settled on a band of cloud, frown tight, eyes weighing him like a blade across scales.

He found the second guardian. Figures.

Judy rushed to Wever’s side, wary eyes fixed on Era. “Lord Wever, who is she?”

Wever patted Judy’s head, a willow-hand gentle. “She’s not someone you can handle.”

“Oh.” Judy nodded, the memory of that vast wingstorm still rattling her bones.

Wever glanced up at the star-stitched sky and bowed to Era, posture neat as a drawn line. “Member No. 103 of the Demonic Lord’s Royal Guard. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Era’s eyes widened—how did he know?

Wever shrugged, casual as drifting leaves. “Curious how I knew, aren’t you?”

Era narrowed her eyes, waiting, silence wound like string.

Wever shrugged again, then slipped on a strange mask, its lines sharp as a sigil. “Like this—No. 103, do you remember me?”

Era stared at the mask, shock striking like a bell. “You’re… No. Seven!”

Wever smiled and nodded. “That’s right. It’s me.”

“…You actually betrayed the Demonic Lord!” Era’s words were knives in snow.

“Betray? Such an ugly word.” Wever’s shrug was light. “Era, do you not know the term ‘undercover’?”

“Damn it.” Era’s brow tightened, thoughts snagging like cloth on thorns.

The Royal Guard’s numbers were set by strength, unless someone had a battlefield-turning talent that lifted them ahead.

This was bad. She couldn’t beat him even at her peak. He looked weakened too, but her odds were thin—and there was a little girl beside him.

As Era weighed her options, sudden chains bloomed around Wever’s and Judy’s throats, no warning, like frost growing in a breath.

Both of them grabbed at their necks, baffled, eyes wide as lanterns.

Then a familiar voice rolled across the clouds like low thunder.

“Everyone, come over for a chat.”

Zero stood on a mountain peak, wind combing his coat like fingers through reeds. In his hand was a chain; its front split into a hundred branches like a silver banyan of links.

He spoke, then spun the chain around his wrist three times, a ritual spiral, and yanked.

Metal clattered, the sound skipping through space like stones across a lake. Strange distortions shimmered.

Era covered her mouth, shock a bright flare. Wever, arrogant a heartbeat ago, jerked on the chain like a snared hawk. His aura collapsed, weaker than a commoner’s breath.

He was dragged clean off the clouds.

Judy struggled hard, legs kicking, then fell like a kite with a cut string, vanishing below the foam of mist.

Era felt a light tap on her shoulder. A voice came close, warm and quiet. “Keep to your work. Don’t fear Divinity wielders. I’ll ‘persuade’ them.”

Era watched, emotions a storm in a bowl. She growled, “What is this! Damn it, damn it! Who are you—what are you!”

Zero whistled, lazy as a mountain brook, eyes on the Divinity holders hauled before him by those gleaming chains.

Wever glared, anger a blaze under ice. “Who the hell are you!”

He hadn’t tasted humiliation in centuries. Who was this man?

Zero took off his mask and showed a young, handsome face, smooth as a lake at dawn. He smiled. “Everyone. Long time no see. Been well?”

“You—!”

…………………………………………

After wandering for ages, Edlyn finally found the gate’s entrance, a dark mouth under layered stone.

She stepped in and saw Reni getting pressed hard by Kate and Perry, their blows falling like sleet.

Her temper flared like oil on flame. Her left hand flicked, and a sword of black magic formed, ink pouring into steel.

Edlyn flashed to Reni’s side in a breath. One upward slice lifted the stunned Perry like a ragged banner. Edlyn wrapped Reni and retreated to a safe corner, shade closing around them like a cloak.

Roar!

Beside her, a Black Demon took a shadow retainer’s slash straight on, blade like night lightning.

It split him in two, clean as a butcher’s cut.

Edlyn frowned at the Black Demon and shook her head. “Still a fake,” she said, disdain a chill wind.

The shadow retainer finished the kill, then raised its knife toward Edlyn, movement soft as smoke, sharp as frost.

Perry recovered, spinning like a top with his longsword, a whirling toy. Kate kicked him in the butt, quick as a bootheel drumbeat.

Perry flew toward Edlyn like a tossed log.

Reni clutched the wound on her arm, teeth tight, and raised her spear, ready to skewer Perry like a boar.

Edlyn booted the charging shadow retainer away, its body a scrap of darkness tumbling. She snatched Reni’s gun and hurled it at the oncoming Perry—thump! It hit an invisible barrier and fell like a dead bird.

Edlyn arched a brow. “Oh? Haven’t seen that trick used in ages,” her voice a flick of amusement.

Reni stared, puzzled. “Your Majesty the Demon King, have you seen that move before?”

Edlyn smiled and nodded. “Mm. Yeah.”

She slashed, blade meeting Perry’s sword with a clear ring. Perry jolted like struck by a hammer and flew backward into Kate’s arms.

Edlyn shook out her wrist, shedding the recoil like water off a sleeve. She eyed Perry on the floor and smiled. “Back then, the Hero made this move to clean out our Demon Race ghouls in bulk. He taught it to the knights. Like little tops. I’m telling you—whip him once, he even runs.”

Reni snorted. “No way.”

Edlyn nodded, nostalgia a warm ember. “Hey, of course. I miss it.”

Kate narrowed his eyes, a hunter confirming his mark. So it was true.

This little girl who seemed to carry no edge was indeed the Demon King.

Edlyn felt his gaze and turned, words crisp as a snap. “Mortal, what are you staring at?”

Kate coughed twice and laughed. “Nothing. Just surprised the Demon King turned into a woman.”

“Oh?”

“Still looks human. I’m afraid the next Hero will drag you home as a bed warmer. Hahaha—cough, cough.” Kate’s joke stumbled into phlegm.

Edlyn heard it and thought of some grinning bastard. Her brows drew tight; discomfort crawled over her skin like ants.