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Jason reappeared in his booth in a blink of warped space, the arena noise crashing back into his ears like surf against stone.
The smell of brimstone. The roar of demons. The distant grind of shifting platforms.
Home sweet battlefield.
He barely had time to steady himself before a blur slammed into his chest.
Mazikeen.
She wrapped both arms around him and squeezed hard enough to crack ribs if he were anyone else.
For a second, Jason just blinked.
Then he laughed softly. "Didn't expect you to be worried about me."
Her grip tightened.
"Of course I'd be worried," she shot back, voice sharp, almost offended.
Then, quieter, nearly swallowed by the crowd noise, she muttered, "You said you'd make me queen."
Jason caught it.
Of course he did.
He grinned, teeth flashing. "Yeah. Hard to do that if I die, right? Relax. I'm still breathing."
He stretched his shoulders, testing his limbs. Soul intact. Body intact. Death itself now stamped somewhere deep inside him like a strange, cosmic passport.
"The biggest obstacle should be gone now," he said.
Mazikeen studied him for a moment longer, eyes scanning like she expected him to fall apart into dust.
When he didn't, she finally stepped back, crossing her arms.
"Don't scare me like that again," she muttered.
"No promises," he replied lightly.
Below them, the arena began to rumble.
Stone plates shifted. New sigils flared to life.
The next execution was being prepared.
Jason leaned forward against the railing.
"Well… let's see what the next circus act looks like."
The gates opened.
First came the sound.
Not fear.
Not tension.
Devotion.
A tidal wave of screams rolled across the coliseum.
"Neron!"
"Demon God!"
"King of Hell!"
The crowd wasn't just cheering.
They were praying.
Through the smoke and flame, Neron walked forward calmly, cloak fluttering behind him like a banner of war. Each step felt deliberate, measured, like the ground itself had already accepted him as ruler.
Demons reached toward him as if proximity alone were a blessing.
Hope.
Jason narrowed his eyes.
"That's not just popularity… that's faith."
On the opposite side, the air warped with oily darkness.
Magic seeped out like poison leaking from a cracked vial.
Azazel stepped into view.
No cheers.
No chants.
Just unease.
Where Neron inspired belief, Azazel inspired instinctive dread.
A true demon lord.
Not a savior.
A calamity with a pulse.
His smile stretched too wide as he faced Neron.
"Been a long time since we've seen each other…"
Neron didn't smile back. "Last time you tried to start a coup. Now you're trying to be king. Do you not know shame, Azazel?"
Azazel chuckled, low and venomous. "Me? Shame? What about you, hm? Playing hero. Riling them up. Feeding them dreams." His eyes swept the crowd. "All this love… for what? To become the Demon God?"
He tilted his head.
"Or do you actually want them extinct?"
The arena quieted.
"I was there last time, Neron," Azazel continued softly. "When Michael Demiurgos erased that so called Demon God like a stain. God does not tolerate rivals."
His grin sharpened.
"Submit like a good dog… or suffer."
For a heartbeat, silence ruled.
Then Neron laughed.
Deep.
Unbothered.
"HA… hahaha…"
He spread his arms slightly.
"Is that so? Then I fear none of it. God sleeps. The Presence doesn't scare me anymore." His eyes burned with absolute certainty. "I will rule all that is. And all that was."
Azazel clapped slowly, mock applause.
"Wow. Listen to that arrogance. Blasphemy, right in front of two angels who could tear you apart."
His magic thickened, turning the air purple black.
"Well then… let's see if that arrogance has teeth."
Energy gathered.
The arena barriers flared.
Even Jason felt it from the booth.
Pressure.
Heavy.
Ancient.
He exhaled slowly, eyes sharp.
"…This one's going to be ugly."
...
The arena below trembled as the next match prepared to ignite.
Sigils crawled across the stone like molten veins. Barriers rose. The crowd howled for blood.
Jason leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes locked on the battlefield where Neron and Azazel stood facing each other like two natural disasters deciding which one got to exist.
Then came a knock.
Soft.
Almost polite.
Completely out of place in a place where screams were currency.
Jason blinked and turned toward the door.
Mazikeen glanced at him.
He gave a small nod.
She went to open it.
The hinges creaked.
Standing there was Blaze.
For a second, none of them spoke.
She looked different.
Quieter.
The infernal heat that once rolled off her skin like a furnace was gone. No crimson aura. No oppressive pressure. Just a woman in dark clothes, pale and tired, like the storm had already passed through her and taken everything on its way out.
She stepped inside and shut the door behind her.
Her eyes landed on Jason.
Lingering.
Searching.
Then she exhaled and said, "Thank you… for avenging my brother. In my stead."
Simple words.
Heavy ones.
Jason leaned back into his chair and gestured lazily to the seat across from him. "You're welcome. Sit. You look like you've been through worse than me."
She actually let out a small huff of amusement and sat down.
"After watching your fight," she continued, "I realized something. I wouldn't have beaten him. Not Satan. Not Azrael. Not… whatever that thing really was."
"He was Azrael," Jason said. "An outcast Angel of Death. Couldn't do the job right. Turns out when Death of the Endless exists, you don't get many performance reviews."
Mazikeen dropped into a chair beside them, frowning. "Then why call himself Satan? And why didn't Lucifer ever mention any of this?"
Jason shrugged. "Probably protecting his brother's delusions. Or just didn't care. Hard to guess what goes on in Lucifer Morningstar's head."
Blaze stared at her hands.
"None of that changes the result. You defeated him. You avenged my brother." She glanced up. "And you spared me. Even though you stripped away everything I was. All my demonic power… gone. I'm basically just a mage now."
There was no accusation in her voice.
Just acceptance.
Jason scratched his cheek. "Yeah… about that. Sorry. When you tried melting my brain with dark magic, things got messy. Best option at the time was cutting out your demon half. Cleaner than killing you."
She nodded slowly. "Still. You did me two favors."
Her eyes sharpened.
"So I'll return one."
Jason's posture shifted slightly. "I'm listening."
"Neron is powerful," she said quietly. "But not just because he's talented. The reason… is partly our fault. Mine and my brother's."
Mazikeen frowned. "Explain."
Blaze's jaw tightened.
"We made contact with something. By accident. Something old. Something wrong. It couldn't control us directly… but it offered power."
Jason tilted his head. "And you took it."
"Of course we did," she said bitterly. "It called itself God's Shadow."
She paused.
"Perpetua."
The name hung in the air like a crack in reality.
Jason's brow lifted. "Perpetua?"
Blaze nodded. "Small power at first. Subtle. Enough to influence events. Enough to tip scales. We used it to manipulate Neron, thought we were using him."
Her laugh was hollow.
"We were idiots."
"She turned on you," Mazikeen guessed.
"Yeah. Lost interest in us. Became fascinated with him instead."
Blaze leaned forward.
"He did something insane. With her help."
Jason's eyes sharpened. "What kind of insane?"
"She helped him forge a contract. A secret one. Forced. Every demon in Hell is bound to it."
Jason's fingers stilled.
"What does it do?"
"It feeds him," Blaze said. "Not blood. Not souls. Belief. Admiration. The desire to be ruled. The more they worship him… the stronger he becomes."
Jason snorted softly. "So that's why he's doing all that PR work out there...."
"Yes. Every cheer is power."
Mazikeen cursed under her breath.
Blaze continued, voice low. "And she promised more. Said she would elevate him. Make him a true Demon God. On par with the original Satan. The one that rivaled Lucifer and Michael. The one both of them had to fight together."
Jason's gaze darkened. "And what does she get in exchange?"
Blaze's expression turned grim.
"She talked about the Dark Multiverse. About letting this world fall into its influence." Her fingers tightened. "She said she'd make this reality unreachable to the Presence. Cut it off from God entirely."
Silence filled the booth.
That wasn't a power grab.
That was cosmic treason.
Jason let out a slow breath. "So he's not just trying to rule Hell."
"He's trying to rewrite the board," Mazikeen muttered.
Before anyone could say more, the entire arena shook.
A blinding flash erupted below.
Then Ramiel's voice boomed across the coliseum like a divine gavel.
"NERON… WINS."
Jason's head snapped toward the glass.
Too fast.
Way too fast.
Azazel wasn't weak.
For him to lose that quickly…
Jason felt it then.
Not excitement.
Not hype.
Something colder.
Like watching a king piece slide across the board while everyone else still thought they were playing checkers.
"…Yeah," Jason muttered.
"This just got a lot worse."
/*\
If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !