They came at dawn.
Ten thousand strong.
An ocean of horns, blades, and banners drenched in red, black, and fire. The Demon King's forces swept down from the ridge in perfect formation—columns of infernal cavalry, siege beasts taller than towers, wyvern riders cloaked in smoke, and a frontline of elite shock troops carved from the darkest magic.
It was a force meant to wipe Kujo's nation from the map.
And yet… not a single soul in the capital fled.
Because they believed.
In their king.
In their queen.
In the monster women who stood beside him.
On the obsidian wall that marked the border of his realm, Kujo stood at the center, cloaked in shadow-thread armor, his eyes burning like violet stars. The entire army waited in silence as he raised one clawed hand, the wind stirring his cape behind him.
He spoke—not with volume, but with presence. His voice rolled across the ranks like thunder.
"They think we're less."
His eyes scanned the line of werewolf warriors, the dark elves with their rune-blades, the vampires standing with fangs bared, and the beastkin tribes clutching spears carved from sacred bone.
"They think monsters are broken. That hybrids are abominations. That kindness is weakness."
He raised his clawed fist.
"They forgot who we are."
He gestured behind him—to his harem.
"To the knight who never bent a knee. The beast who clawed her way out of torment. The priestess who chose light in a world of shadows. The witch who traded books for war. The dragon who learned to love. The succubus who defied her master. They stood with me. And now…"
He turned back to the battlefield, eyes glowing with dark fire.
"We stand together."
The army roared.
The wall trembled from the sheer volume of war cries that followed.
And then, Kujo raised his blade.
"Let them learn what it means to fight monsters with something to protect!"
The horn sounded.
The gates opened.
And the war began.
Fiore was the first to break ranks, charging down the slope in her full demonsteel armor, cape blazing with crimson sigils. She carved through enemy lines like a scythe through wheat—silent, precise, unstoppable. One by one, enemy commanders came at her.
She dropped twelve.
No hesitation. No mercy.
Each slash cleaved metal and soul.
Seraka fought at her side, whirling through formations like a dancer of death, dual-wielding blades enchanted by Zafira's rites. Her eyes glowed with calm wrath. When enemy generals tried to surround her, she cut them down without blinking.
Meanwhile, Kyrie soared above, wings alight with divine aura. She rained down silver flames that seared even the enchanted skin of the demonspawn below. Her voice echoed through the battlefield in a haunting chant that filled allies with hope and made enemy mages tremble.
Zafira moved more quietly—but her magic carved just as deep. Runes formed around her like a storm, bending the rules of reality. Enemy squads found themselves slowed, then torn apart by blades of vacuum and blades of sound. She shielded a hundred soldiers at once with a single casting.
Dimara was chaos incarnate.
A writhing mass of tendrils, muscle, and rage. She surged into enemy ranks with laughter on her lips and claws dripping with magic. When a siege beast lunged for the wall, she wrapped her entire body around its throat, snapping its neck like a twig.
And Aeva—oh, Aeva.
She floated toward the enemy captains, her hips swaying, her eyes glowing pink with forbidden charm. Ten men dropped their weapons just to crawl toward her. Two commanders broke rank mid-battle, weeping apologies. She kissed one—and drained him of magic with a purr.
"Try harder next time, sweetheart."
And above it all… stood Kujo.
He stepped into the heart of the storm, eyes narrowing as the Demon King's elite descended upon him.
Then his wings erupted.
Shadow burst from his back—massive, jagged, divine. His body glowed with infernal markings, his scales shifting between black and obsidian violet. Horns curled back from his skull, and his claws ignited with pure anti-magic flame.
The Shadow Dragon King had awakened.
He raised both arms.
The sky darkened.
Black fire swallowed the horizon.
A thousand spears of void rained down from above, tearing through siege towers and melting wyverns mid-air.
The enemy tried to regroup.
He teleported into their ranks, leaving nothing but craters in his wake.
His voice boomed across the battlefield.
"YOU WANT A MONSTER? THEN FACE ONE!"
Soldiers dropped their weapons.
Captains turned and ran.
Even the Demon King's own vanguard paused.
And then Kujo let out a roar—not of rage, but of resolve. A roar that sent a wave of power surging across his army.
Behind him, his harem stood—bloody, smiling, alive.
Beside him, the banner of his nation flew, wrapped in black fire and hope.