Near the sun, a small sphere of light drifted away, like a spark slipping from a forge.

The sun’s flares lunged like endless venomous serpents, madly rushing the tiny orb.

Each lash of light that touched it was swallowed whole, folded into the glowing mass.

Then, as if saturated, it swelled to its limit, heavy like a rain-soaked sponge.

The sun kept vomiting flame, trying to grind the orb to dust beneath its fury.

But the orb shot free at an impossible speed, slipping past the ring of fire serpents in a single streak.

Fear spiked; Eli collapsed onto the ground, breath heaving like bellows.

“The sun... it’s conscious. Actually conscious.” He wiped his brow, the chill of dread still clinging.

Before, he’d always stood at the edge where the fire serpents could just reach him, like a man toeing the surf.

He kept luring out the solar flames, borrowing Stellar Power like a fisherman teasing a leviathan.

You don’t casually provoke the sun itself.

Or you won’t even have time to feel pain.

Just instant vapor.

At first, each fire serpent felt like it came out to shoo him away.

Impatient, no words, just raw force blasting him off.

Until, in one unguarded moment, he drank one serpent into himself.

Next time he came back, the sun seemed curious and sent another serpent.

He was building a stellar spirit body, after all.

With one strand of solar energy inside, the second went down easier.

Then a third, a fourth.

Until yesterday...

What he teased out wasn’t a mere serpent anymore.

Unaware, he thought the sun had lost interest.

He even leaned closer on purpose.

Closer than he had ever dared.

And then—you saw the opening scene.

Reality itself was battered by a fire tide larger than any ocean.

Even after he fled far, serpents of flame coiled after him.

If he hadn’t run fast, forget resurrection—there’d be nothing left, not even ash.

Eli wiped sweat again, palms damp like rain.

He glanced at the fire-seed in his hand, a thin smile of pride flickering.

Then he called back to the vast fireball behind him.

“Grandfather Sun, thank you. I didn’t mean to provoke you. Once I take my revenge, I’ll return and repay all of this.”

His mind-voice threaded with words, pierced the cosmic veil, and carried his sincere thanks to the blazing sphere.

The great fireball didn’t respond, just kept exploding and burning, like a volcano that never sleeps.

Eli shrugged. Conscious, sure, but probably not that strong.

He sat cross-legged inside the light sphere, stirred it with energy, and sped away.

He didn’t see a small blue flame shoot from the sun and slip into his soul.

Eli’s soul dimmed, just a shade, like dusk brushing a window.

All of it left the silent cosmos unruffled, like wind that never came.

Even Eli didn’t notice the blue seed buried inside him.

It wandered through his soul, radiating a terrible heat, and drank up every trace of Birand’s lingering flame of revenge.

Only then did it settle, quiet as embers.

Walking slowly through the Inferno, Ugillian looked even more spent, like a candle guttering low.

He raised his head, sensing something. His deep eyes cut through the Inferno’s warped spacetime and stared straight at the sun outside.

“You’ve done well. Rest easy. The Netherworld will never prevail.”

Hah... hah. Finally—finally it’s over. Edlyn sprawled over the stone seat, breath coming in rough waves.

Her body gleamed with fragrant sweat, like dew on warm jade.

She drew her hand back from somewhere and stared blankly at the air.

What did I even just do?

Heat flushed her cheeks; she ducked her head and covered her pretty face.

Right then, the nearest Demon Race cocoon began to tremble, like a drum skin under a beat.

Edlyn noticed, blinked, straightened her clothes, patted her skirt, and walked toward the giant cocoon.

She stood before it and laid her palm gently on the shell, like calming a skittish horse.

The cocoon calmed, its pulse easing.

A moment later, it cracked from the base, fractures spreading like dry clay.

Then a naked succubus with black hair and upturned ram’s horns rose from within.

Her figure put Edlyn’s to shame a thousand times, like mountain peaks towering over hills.

Curves at the front and back, her tail swayed in the air, dripping with temptation.

At the instant the succubus stepped free, a vast, ultra-pure demonic aura rippled out from her, like moonlight flooding a still lake.

Edlyn stood unharmed, but the other cocoons dimmed slightly under the surge, their glow thinning like worn silk.

Edlyn blinked, eyes drifting aside, thoughts turning slow.

Who... was this again?

This level of power...

She couldn’t recall a succubus this strong.

And if we’re both succubi... why am I so far behind?

Aren’t I the Demon King? Hm...

The woman stood there, a bit disheveled. She looked herself over, confusion furrowing her brow.

“Huh? What’s going on?”

Edlyn blinked and beckoned. “Hey—uh—who are you again?”

The woman turned. The Abyss had already impressed upon her what the current Demon King looked like.

So she recognized her Demonic Lord at a glance.

She dropped to one knee, right fist to her heart, her flawless body poised like a blade.

“Supreme Demon Ruler Division! First Cohort Captain. Strategist of the Demon Race. Angelo Aris, reporting to the Demonic Lord!”

Edlyn froze, then her mouth fell open.

“Wha—what? You’re Angelo?”

“At your service. Your orders, Demonic Lord?”

Cut back to Ugillian.

The old man wore a wicked grin, as if a bad idea had bloomed like a poisonous flower.

He shook his head and set those thoughts aside, like dust brushed from sleeves.

Hands clasped behind his back, he shuffled to the spot opposite the girl.

The statue here had begun from the front to crack like parched earth.

Fissures crawled across it, spiderwebs etched in stone.

Ugillian sighed. “As expected, some things can’t be stopped.”

Birand’s soul would never be shut out by six statues.

The statues felt like they were welcoming him, mouths of stone opening.

At the moment the fire dragon was about to swallow him, the statues summoned him into the space they sealed.

He took the red vial Edward left here, the glass glowing like a captured sunset.

And Ugillian stood before him, a shadow cast by a mountain.

Which made Birand feel, once again, what true threat meant.