The battlefield around Camelot's ruins had become a living hell.
Meliodas and Zeldris had joined the fray — both sending demons flying with single blows.
One with Lostvayne. The other with the raw, unbridled power of the Demon Clan.
Despite their numbers, the rebels were faltering. Fear was etched into their faces.
"This… this is impossible!" one of them cried—
—before King's spell smashed him into a broken wall.
Yet even cornered, the demons kept fighting, driven by desperate fury.
---
Meanwhile, Gelda joined Elizabeth, Miranda, Rebecca, and the baby — still safely within King's magical dome.
"They're fighting for us," Miranda whispered. "And all we can do… is hope."
Elizabeth gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"They will protect us. Always."
---
Elsewhere, Néo watched the scene unfold, his face twisted by fury.
"No… no, no, no!" he growled, fists trembling.
"It wasn't supposed to end like this!"
He spoke aloud to himself, voice full of bitter hate.
"Zephir was supposed to kill Zeldris… Then I could control him with his family as leverage. It would've been perfect… if they hadn't come!"
His eyes turned toward Meliodas and the Seven Deadly Sins, who were dominating the battle.
"Curse them all…"
But before he could spiral further into madness—
A sudden surge of magic closed in on him at blinding speed.
Néo had no time to react.
A blur struck him across the face — violently — hurling him several meters away, rolling through rubble.
"W-What?!"
Néo looked up—
Zephir was walking toward him.
His clothes were torn, scars from his fight with Zeldris still fresh.
But in his eyes burned a cold, seething rage — white-hot, and silent.
"You…" Néo spat blood. "If you'd just killed the Demon King sooner, my plan would've worked!"
Zephir said nothing at first.
He stopped in front of Néo — his shadow casting long across the debris.
Then, in a voice low and sharp as a blade:
"Shut up."
Néo's brow twitched.
"What did you say?!"
Zephir's voice rose, now filled with venom:
"I don't give a damn about your twisted plans…
About becoming the new Demon King…
Or your pathetic ambitions."
His fist clenched.
A dark demonic mark appeared on his forehead — the symbol of the Demon Clan.
In an instant, the atmosphere shifted.
The air itself seemed to vibrate around him.
Néo instinctively stepped back, cold sweat dripping down his neck.
"W-What… What is this…?"
Zephir took another step forward.
His gaze pierced straight through him.
Then, in a voice cold enough to freeze the flames of hell:
"Your biggest mistake… was going after my family."