Angelo resealed the Abyss rift, his whole figure dissolving into a storm of light. Silence poured back into the space, cool as night rain.

Only after confirming Angelo was truly gone did Birand step out of the shadow. He wore a brazen smile as he studied the air before him.

"Nice. Nice. The Abyss does pick its spots. Who’d think a plain little valley would be the birthplace of the whole Demon Race?" He chuckled and strolled forward. "Don’t blame me. Your kind is simply the best fuel against a Celestial God." Cruelty tugged at his mouth as he reached out and touched the barrier the Abyss had left.

Manstein’s Godslayer Weapon needs a prime power source. He’s a visionary. In secret he bent a slice of the Demon Race to his will. He raised them inside a hybrid discipline—magic grafted to his exclusive tech. An uncanny science that mass-produces demonic test subjects. They churn out vast demonic miasma.

That miasma drives the Godslayer Weapon. Its bite against sacred energy is frighteningly immense. Manstein ran trials. Feed the weapon common mana or Battle Aura, and its damage is roughly half of what demonic miasma achieves. Pour in sacred aura, and it drops even lower. The weapon loves demonic miasma. Terrifyingly so.

But copies of demons can’t match the real thing. Their quality is leagues worse. That’s why Manstein sought Birand. Birand already loathes the Demon Race. With demons as the core fuel and Celestial Gods as the target, Birand sits on both sides of that grudge. No quarrels over spoils. Perfect.

"Well, I used to have no way to handle you. I even thought, beat the Demon King and the Demon Race would bow for good. Turns out, behind them sat you, a nasty piece of work." He lifted his hand and traced lines with his index finger, seeking something in the air.

In the valley’s heart, a floating focal point pulsed. His fingertip hummed, like two tuning forks kissing. Birand’s lips curled. He stabbed forward, blue sparks spitting from his finger. The air filled with the smell of char.

He grinned, feral. "Found you at last."

He withdrew, then clenched a fist. Crimson energy pooled over his knuckles. He cleaved through the sky and slammed it into a point in the valley.

Thoom.

The space reverberated like muffled thunder rolling through a cavern. Excitement sharpened Birand’s grin. "Good. Strong. I want to see how long you can keep this barrier up."

He drew a deep breath. His power boiled. He unleashed a storm of punches at the air ahead. Each strike detonated like thunder. His speed climbed, dragging a blur of fist-shadows through the air, pure force hammering the Abyssal barrier.

Under his sustained barrage, the barrier slowly took form. A bronze gate stood ghostly at the valley mouth. Birand saw it and drove harder.

Good. I’m stronger than ever. The Abyss’s screen is just that—screen.

The fist-shadows howled in. The barrier groaned under the load and a crack crawled across it. Birand had a breach. He hammered the same spot, heavy blow after heavy blow. The crack webbed outward. With a sharp, crystalline report, the barrier collapsed, gone.

The Abyss’s entrance—an ancient bronze gate—surged into view.

"Hahaha. Finally…" Birand shook his trembling hands and beamed at the gate. "I found your hideaway at last."

Edlyn lounged in a stone chair, a fishing pole dangling from her fingers, idly casting into the Abyssal River. It was pure time-killing. The river held nothing but energy; no scales, no life. If a fish bit here, that’d be a ghost story.

But the Demonic Lord was bored out of her mind. She had begged Angelo to cultivate a few species from the old demon realm, splicing them with high-bloodline fiends. Pretty little fish that could barely survive and drift in demonic miasma. Toys to pass the hours. Who knew how long she’d be stuck here? Idleness did not suit the Demonic Lord.

Sleepiness tugged at her lashes when the whole space shuddered, a quake rippling through the air. Confused, Edlyn rubbed her temples. "Seriously? We get earthquakes in here?"

A high-ranking fiend edged forward, summoning courage. "Your Majesty… perhaps someone’s invading?"

Edlyn’s eyes widened, her gaze rolling once. She nodded. "Mm. I think so too. Go check."

"Yes…" The fiend bowed and went, resigned.

She yawned and reached for the pole again. The space jolted harder. This time it didn’t stop. The shaking grinded on.

She slipped off her chair with a scrape. The stone chair pitched too, flattening her poor ornamental fish into fish pancakes. Her face hardened. She snapped the pole aside. "Damn it. You think I’m Hello Kitty if I don’t snarl? What the hell are you shaking for?"

She raised a hand and snapped. A silver-gray armor bloomed across her body. She pulled Ashir—the Demon Cocoon—from the pocketed space at her side and stormed toward the Abyss gate.

Fiends looked up, eager. "Demonic Lord, should we go too?"

"You? What good are you? If he found this place and kept kicking my old man’s barrier like a drunk mule, he’s at least a high-tier god. You’ll just be meat on a plate."

Edlyn rolled her eyes, exasperated. The fiends traded looks, speechless. She didn’t mind. The Demon Race was thin on talent right now. Keeping this many high-ranking Supreme Demon Rulers alive was already a win. What more could she ask?

She barreled toward the gate, bristling. Do you know how hard it is to breed two fish that can live in demonic miasma and not look hideous? I’m furious.

Because of the shaking, the fiend she sent earlier could only cling to the doorframe and brace his stance. Edlyn waved him back, then kicked the Abyss gate open.

"Who are you?! Tired of living? You come to my door to collect debts? Ate crap till you’re full and now you kick other people’s gate?!"

Birand stood before the gate, taking shots at it now and then, but the door hadn’t budged. He’d been at a loss. Do I really have to unleash another flurry?

As he pondered, the gate slammed open. The frame smacked his nose and sent him skidding. A young, sharp voice snarled from the doorway. "Who are you?! Tired of living? You come to my door to collect debts? Ate crap till you’re stuffed and now you kick my gate?!"

Birand pushed himself up, rubbing his aching nose, and eyed the little girl. He smirked. "Demonic Lord—your temper’s fierce."

"Eli? No… you’re that bastard." Edlyn stared, stunned for a beat, then grit her teeth.

"Oh? You don’t know Eli’s been devoured by me completely?" Birand planted his hands on his hips, grinning at his foe from a past life.

Edlyn’s smile turned cold. She wouldn’t be dumb enough to tell this fool Eli’s been revived. Instead she looked at Birand with pity. "Hero, you’re pitiful. Even your body’s a wreck. Tricked by a Celestial God once. Then by the Abyss once. Now by the Netherworld. How sad."

"Hmph. And what gives you the right?" Birand’s laugh was cold. "A former Demon King, now a little loli, still cooing at my reincarnation. You’re a joke."

"You—!" Edlyn’s anger flashed.

Birand clicked his tongue. "As I said before you died last life, Pandora, you should fix that temper. You’ve got a face prettier than a woman’s. If your personality were sweeter, someone might marry you." He chuckled. "Looks like the bargain fell to me."

"He and you are not the same! You’re a parasite, a disgrace!" Edlyn stamped in fury, teeth bared.