Diablo's multi-stage Disintegration shredded every layer of Raine's defenses one after another.
The final beam tore straight through her chest, carving a clean hole through her body.
Everything unfolded exactly as Diablo intended.
Raine was still breathing—barely.
He had calculated that too.
"Kufufufufufu… how pitiful. Fighting you was even more boring than fighting Testarossa before her evolution."
"Te… Testarossa…?"
"That is none of your concern. Instead—why are you here? State your purpose."
"Do you honestly think I'd—!"
Raine refused him without hesitation. Diablo didn't like that answer.
Even after defeating her, he did not relax. The fully evolved insect monster—Razul—was still left for Shion and Ranga. That creature was no ordinary threat. It was the natural enemy of demonkind.
A being born between the physical and spiritual planes—semi-spiritual lifeforms that existed in the crevices of reality. When they entered the physical world, they gained bodies, and if left unchecked, they could devastate entire regions.
Normally, creatures like that rarely evolved into humanoid forms. Razul had. And not just that—it reached its final form.
Diablo assessed calmly:
Even Shion-dono and Ranga-dono together may struggle.
Of course, Shion was Atem's subordinate—capable of chaos that defied logic when pushed. With Ranga at her side, they likely wouldn't lose. Still—I could end Razul. Quickly. Efficiently. That would serve Atem-sama's interests best.
He was about to return to eliminate that unstable factor.
But then… another thought entered his mind.
No… perhaps Atem-sama assigned Shion-dono and Ranga-dono intentionally… to let them fight a powerful foe and grow.
Diablo paused.
He had indeed been shaken earlier—Raine's presence had annoyed him and thrown him off his rhythm. Maybe Atem had foreseen that. Maybe Atem wanted Shion and Ranga to face a threat worthy of honing them.
If that is the case… then me defeating Razul would only obstruct Atem-sama's will…
Only a battle maniac—and a zealot of Atemism—could arrive at such a conclusion.
Normal people wouldn't.
Diablo wasn't normal.
His devotion to Atem was absolute. Any action not aligned with Atem's will was blasphemy.
Victory alone was not enough.
Diablo gave up the chance to fight a rare powerhouse, but he sincerely hoped Shion and Ranga would win and gain something meaningful from the experience.
I really need to slow down and think before acting in situations like this…
And with that, Diablo's thoughts went spiraling wildly into the land of misunderstandings.
Meanwhile, Raine—who was a master of combat—stood right in front of him as he mentally unraveled himself.
Atem, of course, had never intended any of this.
He simply wanted the conflict resolved cleanly, and above all—he wanted the children and musicians safe.
Shion and Ranga gaining experience wasn't even on his mind.
Diablo's interpretation was completely wrong.
And because of that, his entire plan changed.
"I was going to kill you," Diablo said airily, "but now I won't."
"What…? Is that supposed to be a threat—?"
"No. It is enough. You no longer need to pretend. Come out already."
Raine's eyes widened. She didn't understand. But her expression twisted—rage, humiliation, hatred all blending into one.
"Noir… you only evolved into a Demon Peer recently—"
"You really are a blockhead. Strength isn't about magicule quantity. It's technique. As my senpai once said, 'Magicule content does not define strength.'"
"How dare you—"
Her voice faded.
Her body dissolved into ash and blew away.
A beam of crimson light flashed across the sky.
When it faded, two figures stood in front of him:
Bleu—Raine—kneeling.
Rouge—Guy Crimson—standing tall.
"Hey. Long time no see, Noir."
"Hmm. Rouge—no, Guy Crimson. So you were here."
Diablo had been wary of Guy from the beginning.
Guy spoke casually, as if reminiscing.
"You noticed from the start that it was Raine's 'Mist,' right? So why waste such a powerful spell on it?"
Diablo frowned.
He had pretended not to notice the Mist.
His real plan had been simple:
—Defeat the illusion while acting unimpressive
—Make Guy think he wasn't worth the trouble
—Let Guy leave
—Then assist Shion and Ranga
If Guy believed Diablo was weaker, he would lose interest and vanish. Time gained, threat avoided.
But Diablo ruined this plan himself—for the sake of Atem.
"You wouldn't defeat a Primordial Demon with Disintegration alone," Guy said. "That hardly counts as a trump card."
"You talk big. Even you wouldn't walk away unfazed if hit directly."
"If I took it head-on, I'd disappear. But the key is—you'd have to hit me first."
"AHAHAHAHA!"
"Kufufufufu."
Guy laughed. Diablo laughed back.
Raine was irrelevant now—treated like air.
"Oh right," Guy said, "why evolve now? You're not like those three—you didn't want to drag them back, right?"
Diablo shook his head.
"They only appear to hold each other back. In truth, it's their way of entertaining themselves. As for me, I have my own reason. Guy, let me ask you—do you think anyone in this world is stronger than us?"
Guy considered it.
"Atem, your master—if anyone surpasses us, it'd be a True Dragon. But they're more like natural disasters."
Even a True Dragon currently posed little threat to Guy. Only the resurrection of Star King Dragon Veldanava would be concerning.
Guy wasn't wrong.
"Yes," Diablo nodded, "we are the strongest. But because we evolved… fighting others becomes boring. It turns into a one-sided slaughter."
A battle maniac's mindset.
"I see."
Guy understood. Diablo wasn't evolving to surpass others—he evolved because the battlefield around Atem demanded it.
Guy sighed.
"So… your outlook changed because of Atem?"
"… So that's why you evolved—because of Atem, right?" Guy corrected himself.
Diablo nodded.
He spoke with cold certainty:
"Atem-sama's growth is beyond astonishing. His evolution is worthy of awe. His presence commands all. His soul radiates a noble, sovereign spirit. Moreover—"
"You're going to keep going, aren't you?"
Diablo stared at him.
Of course.
Guy massaged his temples.
"Let's stop talking about Atem for a second and talk about you."
Diablo disliked that, but the situation was serious, so he complied.
"Tsk. Fine. To be direct—Atem-sama's companions grow stronger every day. Witnessing that, I couldn't allow myself to remain stagnant."
Guy blinked.
"…That is surprising."
"Yes. If I live too comfortably, I may fall behind. There is no reason to limit my growth in such an environment."
Guy finally understood.
He exhaled sharply and shifted the topic.
"Atem has already established his influence across the Western Nations," Guy said with a lopsided grin. "My subordinates should be causing a little chaos over there… but I also don't want to anger Atem."
Under normal circumstances, Guy would consider this a harmless prank.
But with Atem?
No.
Guy had been defeated twice by Atem already—.
A third time…
…Guy had no doubt it would mean total erasure.
The kind even True Dragons wouldn't return from.
So Guy added quickly,
"I made sure they don't cross any lines. I'm not stupid enough to provoke Atem again."
Diablo's expression turned razor-sharp.
Guy Crimson, who once stood unmatched, now watched his words because the King of Games—the Pharaoh of Eternity—stood above all beings in this world.
And even Guy…
could feel Atem's shadow looming over this battlefield.
"Don't misunderstand me, Noir," Guy said. "I'm not trying to start trouble."
Diablo smiled thinly.
"That is wise. Because if Atem-sama sees your 'prank' as more than that… he will remove you from existence entirely."
Guy didn't disagree.
He couldn't.
Without Razul guarding the northern realm, the Western Nations were left dangerously exposed.
Guy was right—by now, the region was probably a living hell.
Under normal circumstances, Diablo would not be able to intervene.
Not even Atem would be able to respond instantly…
—or so Guy believed.
But the moment he voiced that thought—
Diablo laughed.
That familiar, unsettling, "kufufufufufu."
"You think Atem-sama has not accounted for this? He has already made preparations. Atem-sama's brilliant mind perceives and foresees every possibility in existence—"
Guy had expected Diablo to panic.
Instead, Diablo was completely composed.
Worse—he was still praising his master in a battlefield soaked with danger.
What a lunatic, Guy thought.
"…Oh? So he really is that interesting. Seems your Pharaoh has exceeded even my expectations."
"Yes. But that is only natural. Such greatness is to be expected from Atem-sama."
Diablo continued to provoke Guy—shamelessly, relentlessly—while Atem was nowhere in sight.
Had Atem known this, he would have thundered:
"Diablo! What in the name of the gods are you doing?!"
Raine watched from the side, biting her lip in
frustration.
But Guy and Diablo continued their conversation as if she didn't exist.
…
…
…
At the same time—
The Western Nations were collapsing under an unprecedented crisis.
The main defense force stationed at the Cidre Border, tasked with stopping demon incursions from the north, had vanished without explanation.
Messengers rushed in one after another, pale-faced and trembling:
"How can this be?! The demon army is descending south?!"
"What is the Count of the Cidre Border doing?!"
"There's no time for blame! All nations must mobilize immediately—if they don't, the Capital of Ingracia will fall next!"
The council chamber erupted.
Representatives from every major nation, summoned for an emergency session, were shouting over each other in pure panic.
It was chaos.
The Western States Council—a grand alliance of independent states—had authority.
But in emergencies?
Its greatest flaw became clear:
Too much procedure. Not enough action.
The defense of the northern region fell to the Kingdom of Ingracia.
Half of its military was stationed near the Cidre Border.
Several Holy Knights were positioned there as well.
A-rank adventurers from the Freedom Association had been deployed too.
And now—
that entire force was on the brink of annihilation.
The final line of defense was barely holding.
Holy Knights and adventurers fought desperately while their numbers dwindled.
Reinforcements were needed immediately.
But—
There was no time.
The councilors knew it.
Everyone knew it.
But because every nation was sovereign, they needed approval from their home governments.
Mired in procedure, they couldn't act fast enough.
The fastest option now was issuing a direct emergency request to the Freedom Association.
Ingracia could send its military reserve…
but that would weaken the defense of its capital.
And no king would accept leaving their home undefended.
So the debate dragged on, endless and fruitless.
Some insisted other nations must supply troops, since Ingracia had always shouldered the burden of defending the north.
Others argued for a coalition force.
In fact—the proposal for a coalition army had already passed unanimously.
But there was a complication.
The army would be led by—
the Eterna Federation.
A coalition under a nation of monsters.
And worse—under the command of Demon Lord Atem, the Pharaoh King whose silent authority was beginning to overshadow every political structure in the region.
Even if the motion had passed, many councilors could not swallow their pride.
Handing over control of their armies to Atem's people was terrifying, even humiliating.
The Speaker slammed his gavel against the podium.
"Enough! Silence!"
The council finally quieted.
The Speaker continued sternly:
"At this moment, we face a threat unlike anything before. Endless arguing will not stop the demon army. You must contact your home nations immediately and mobilize all possible troops."
He pointed toward the front of the chamber.
"We are fortunate—the Eterna Federation's representative is here. She was personally appointed by Demon Lord Atem-sama."
Gasps filled the chamber.
The woman in question—
elegant, radiant, terrifying—
stepped forward:
Testarossa of Eterna.
The Speaker continued:
"Testarossa-dono has deep knowledge of military strategy. Since Atem-sama has entrusted her with authority, she is more than worthy to command the coalition army."
Some councilors bristled.
Some were afraid.
Some resented the idea of bowing to a monster.
But none dared voice opposition.
Atem's reputation—his overwhelming charisma, his victories, his terrifying authority—now hung above the council chamber like a storm cloud.
No one wanted to provoke the Pharaoh King.
And because no alternative solution existed—
they had no choice but to obey.