"Why hasn't a soul returned to my body?" Birand stared at his hands, stunned, palms as empty as cold ash on wind.

"That shouldn't be. Is it because I fused with the Netherworld?" His brows knotted like iron wire; he clutched his aching head, a storm-mask twisting his face.

"Birand. You should return to the Netherworld. This place isn't for you." The Celestial God’s voice fell like drifting snow; she was all wounds, breath withered like frostbitten grass.

"You're not f—ing dead yet." Birand shot her a look like a thrown dagger; she met his face, froze, then laughed, glass-cracked and hollow.

"So that's it. Not just the Abyss— even the Netherworld wants me dead." Her laugh turned to wind in a graveyard. "Back then, what did I fight for? Heh."

With her power drained, emotion flooded in— a tide she hadn’t felt in eons, old seas breaking their dams.

She wiped her tears and smiled like a blade. "Die, all of you. I don’t care."

"Well, didn’t expect you to cry so easy after losing power. You’ve lived billions of years, old crone; bawling doesn’t fit." Zero walked out of shadow like dusk seeping in.

Before the Abyss vanished, it spat the troops it had swallowed back onto him. He and Janus scrambled like ants under rain for a long stretch.

Now done, he stepped out and saw the Celestial God slip her reins, eyes like lightning off a broken sky.

She frowned at him. "A second Birand? No… the scent on you is miles off."

Zero shrugged, silent. He looked over the forest that had stretched for a thousand miles. Now no hills, only dead earth like bleached bone.

"Why hit so hard? This will take tens of thousands of years to heal, and even then it’ll be scar tissue."

"Answer me, mortal!" A halo rose on her brow like sunrise; she became the high throne again, winter-cold and distant.

The Abyss had scarred her, yet she had beaten it. She was merging with the world’s energy and authority the Abyss had held, rivers returning to a new sea.

Wounds and power knit fast. Her face went blank with frost; her gaze, glacial, strangled the crying woman from moments ago.

"Oh? Angry?" Zero smiled and took off his mask, a veil slipping like fog.

Janus followed, removing his butterfly mask, face cold as midnight stone.

Birand froze, staring at the latter, disbelief sparking like flint. "Eli?!"

The Celestial God’s face sank as she took in Edlyn’s bat wings and ram horns, anger smoldering like coals under ash.

Another Fiend of such high rank. Abyss, how much did you spend to kill me?

"Yeah. It’s me." Eli turned, saluted Birand with a soldier’s crisp line, mouth curling into a cold smile like a crescent blade. "I didn’t die. Didn’t expect that, huh?"

Birand’s face stormed hot and cold; Netherworld energy rolled inside him like a black tide battering cliffs.

The Celestial God moved, her palm slicing air like moonlight. She meant to end Birand and the Netherworld here, clean as ice.

Eli flashed, appeared before Birand, and met her with a palm, calm water against falling stone.

Two powers collided midair like two storms fronting— repulsive, primed to explode. In this state, Birand would be shattered bone or worse.

But Edlyn stepped into the seam, spun, and kicked— silver boots like meteors punting both forces far away.

Eli smiled. "Lord Celestial God, we can’t take Birand out yet. A rampaging Netherworld could recall his old authority."

"Even the Abyss’s authority might not hold. It could fly with him to the Netherworld. You’d lose more than you gain."

"Who are you?" Her brow tightened; invisible killing intent coiled around him like winter vines.

Eli shrugged; his right hand flicked. A pale-blue transparent longsword slid from his sleeve like a glacial stream, aura rising to match hers.

Two tides rose— one from the sword, one from Eli himself— twin moons pulling at the sea.

She froze, eyes locked on the pale-blue blade, pupils tightening like pinpoints.

He held a Holy Sword-level weapon. A star among spears.

"No rush. Our real opponent will take the stage soon." Eli leveled the blade; Edlyn lifted the Demon Sword Ashill, night and ice twinned.

Eli’s right hand held the sword, a careless smile resting on his lips like drifting mist. His left hand took Edlyn’s— warm grip, iron clasp.

Edlyn’s left held her blade; her right locked his palm, knuckles white as snow peaks.

Two people, two swords; their auras fused, like an ancient beast waking slow from stone.

The Celestial God’s lovely face went stiff; she stepped back on instinct, a deer feeling quake underfoot.

Then she remembered herself, frowned, and forced a step forward, spine like tempered steel.

Birand finally pressed the surge down, breath steadying like a lake after wind. He rose, envy flickering in his eyes like faint fire.

He sighed, so soft it vanished like vapor, then straightened. "What the hell is going on?"

Eli let his smile fall like a mask. "Zero. You’ve watched long enough. Time to show yourself."

..................................................................

"Kill!" A Fiend cavalryman with horns skewered a human with his lance, then flung him aside, body spinning like a broken kite.

To an outsider, this wasn’t a battlefield. It was a slaughterhouse, blood steam rising like morning fog.

The space above twisted like warped glass. Two figures fell out of it.

Eli and Liqianyu hit air, faces blank with disorientation, then found their angles like cats landing in rain.

Eli adjusted midair and, on landing, kicked a charging Demon Race soldier. The man crumpled like a felled sapling.

He frowned; his mental power spread like ripples across a lake. He clenched his fist, bit his lip— a taste of iron. "Edlyn… she’s gone!"

The time-space crossing had thrown waves at them. The three split as driftwood; Liqianyu landed with Eli in the same time.

He watched Demon Race troops butcher the human army with strength beyond human, blades like thunderheads.

Eli frowned, gaze clouded like a storm-glass. Edlyn wasn’t near. Save these people?

Would saving them change the flow of history, river stones shifted underfoot? Would it help against that certain future?

Thoughts flooded his head like monsoon rain, drumming until action wavered.

Liqianyu didn’t hesitate. Her arms swept; two Battle Aura blades flew from her sleeves like hawks, shredding two Fiend cavalry.

Eli sighed, breath like wind leaving a bell. He traced a barrier in the air, lines of light weaving like spider silk.

Demon Race soldiers, fearless and disciplined, struck together, a tide beating one cliff at the same heartbeat.

Eli frowned, fingers sketching new math. He reshaped the barrier; it belched the energy it had swallowed, white fire erasing the foremost Fiends.

In the rear, a Demon Race commander felt the change, cold smile blooming like frost. He rose through air, an arrow loosed.

"Kill!" He roared and threw a punch, body cutting through the barrier like a spear through paper, fist rushing Eli like a hailstone.

Eli extended his hand, calm as a still pond, and caught the punch. Then he kicked the commander’s abdomen, boot like a hammer.

The commander flew back, body a tossed log. He frowned, realization a chill wind— this one was beyond him alone.

He raised his hand. "Form up!"

Frontline Demon Race soldiers brought up shields etched with strange sigils, standing like a wall of river stones. Their unified roar cracked the air. "Roar!"

Killing intent arced like a blood-red rainbow. Eli lifted an eyebrow— not bad. It looked solid.

Countless linked arrays rose among the rear mages, circles stacking like constellations. The shields were nodes, cycling power through the net.

A massive force rushed at Eli like a floodgate opening.

Eli raised one hand. Energy welled like a spring; his eyes stayed cold on the incoming beam, a hunter watching lightning.

Blue astral energy formed a membrane, a shell like bubble-glass. It bounced the beam back, blasting the rear ranks head over heels.

Quickly, under the commander’s command, the demons formed again. The able replaced the fallen; the shape shrank slightly, still wary.

They watched the man who stood thousands of meters away, calm as clear sky after rain.

Eli quietly praised their elite grit, then spoke, voice cold as night water. "Withdraw within ten seconds, or I’ll wipe out this Demon Race force."

Star energy erupted from him like an ocean breaking, pressure driving the front ranks to gasp like fish hauled to shore.

Warhorses stamped and snorted, fear rising like smoke; their eyes rolled white as foam.

The commander’s face went dark as stormcloud. Too terrifying. Better retreat and contact the higher chain.

Eli watched the Demon Race army pull back and let out a breath, tension loosening like a bow unstrung.

He glanced at the human leader arranging the remaining troops with disciplined hands, motions steady as a metronome. "You okay?"

The man smiled back, a tired sunbeam. "Doing fine."

Eli frowned. The face tugged at memory like a thread. "May I ask your name?"

"Ah? Oh. Sorry. Didn’t expect someone like you to ask." He scratched his cheek, sheepish as a boy. "For mission secrecy, call me Aste."

Eli’s mouth twitched, something deep in him stirring like a buried hunger. "Do you have a son named Birand Aste?"

"Huh? Sir, how do you know?"