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At that exact moment, deep within the Northern Territories of the Underworld, in the domain of the current Devil Lords—
"Is this really wise, Leohart?"
"Hmmm…"
His subordinate's doubtful question was met only with a vague, contemplative hum from the young Devil Lord standing on the edge of an artificially-made cliff.
Golden sunlight scorched the barren ground, baking the rocky earth and filling the air with a stifling heat. Today's temperature had climbed to a blistering 98 degrees Fahrenheit—typical weather in the Northern Territories.
Yet, Leohart seemed utterly unfazed, staring fixedly ahead.
Below stretched a massive excavation site, carved deep into the earth like the foundation of a future city. The cliff he stood on was merely the edge of an enormous, rectangular pit spanning the area of hundreds of football fields.
In a smaller but still substantial pit, specially dug even deeper within the larger excavation, teams of demonic laborers worked tirelessly. Hundreds of robust cables lowered from cranes and machinery suspended above, operated by demonic soldiers who stood watch over the edge, enduring the blazing sun. They secured thick cables to the massive object they had uncovered, preparing to haul it up to the surface.
Their prize??
An immense stone sarcophagus.
Its surface was inscribed with mysterious patterns, reminiscent of the mystical Tree of Life, giving it an ominous, arcane aura.
"I honestly don't know," Leohart finally admitted, shaking his head slightly.
"According to the Cardinals, this relic is something left behind from the ancient Demonic Wars. They insist it could prove decisive if we use it against the Old Satan faction, solidifying our authority over the Northern Territories."
"Hmph, the Cardinals again?"
A muscular subordinate standing beside him scoffed disdainfully. With cropped white hair, copper-colored skin, and intimidating scarlet tattoos tracing down his face like bloody tears, he looked every inch the seasoned veteran.
"Those old fools always meddle with obscure relics. Our final battle against the Old Satan faction is right around the corner. We barely have enough time to analyze this ancient garbage—much less deploy it effectively."
"Enough, Gald," Leohart raised his hand to silence him, his eyes never leaving the mysterious artifact below. "Our position remains advantageous. If this relic proves useful, excellent. If not, we lose nothing."
Gald could only nod in reluctant agreement.
"Understood."
❁❁❁❁
Far away, thousands of miles from that excavation site, high above the former royal capital of the Old Satan faction—
The sky itself rippled gently as golden spatial energy opened a glowing portal.
Bokue stepped through first, immediately followed by a dazzling array of beauties—Kuroka, Rias, Mio, Akeno, Koneko, and more.
Only once every last one of them emerged did the portal fade quietly away.
Bokue squinted downward through the thin clouds, framing the silent city below between his thumbs and forefingers like a movie director.
"From up here, I feel like my next line should be something ominous like: 'Now, let the world feel pain.'"
He chuckled, before noticing how empty the city streets looked.
"Hey, isn't this supposed to be the Northern Capital? Seems pretty deserted for such a prominent city."
Indeed, though the city's walls and royal castle were as grand as ever—reminiscent of ancient European fortresses—the central streets lay silent and abandoned, dust rolling gently along the empty thoroughfares.
Had Lucia's report prompted the Old Satan faction to evacuate overnight, fearing his arrival?
Mio's attendant, Maria, pondered thoughtfully. "It might be because the tension between the Old and Current Satan factions escalated recently. Many citizens probably fled or holed up indoors, fearing conflict."
"Got it."
Bokue nodded absently. It wasn't his concern; he'd merely wondered aloud.
"Guess I'll give them a proper greeting then."
Without further ado, he casually lifted one hand. His thumb pressed lightly against his middle finger, and with a flick, he released an invisible burst of power.
There was no grand gesture, no visible buildup of magic.
Just a simple flick of the finger.
Yet in that instant—
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM—!
The very air itself trembled violently.
A titanic invisible blade sliced downward through the center of the city below. As if struck by an unseen celestial blade, the entire city split neatly down its middle, buildings bisected with surgical precision. The great castle at the center was cleaved cleanly in two, its walls crumbling away as the cut extended for miles behind it.
The single casual flick had etched a thin, straight line through the land itself.
Satisfied, Bokue retracted his finger with a nonchalant smile.
"Well, that's my greeting. Now, let's pay them a proper visit."
Without waiting, Bokue transformed into a streak of golden light, plummeting directly into the split castle below like a meteorite. He smashed effortlessly through the thick stone walls, sending dust and debris scattering across the throne room floor.
As the dust settled, Bokue looked upward, directly into the stunned eyes of the middle-aged man sitting precariously on a throne that had narrowly avoided losing an armrest—and possibly its occupant's fingers.
He tilted his head curiously, offering a genial smile that failed entirely to hide the overwhelming menace radiating from him.
"You must be Ramusas, right?"
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