"So, will you surrender, or resist?" Demiurge asked, his monstrous toad-like face twisting into a sadistic smile. "What will you do, *hero*?"
Placing all the human hostages as a living meat-shield around him, the demonic tactician spread his massive hands. To Demiurge, despicableness didn't matter. Morality was a flaw in lower life forms. As long as the supreme goal could be achieved for Nazarick, Demiurge would do absolutely anything.
The floating platform of asphalt and debris was packed to the brim with the weeping, terrified hostages Demiurge had teleported over. He himself stood firmly in the absolute center of the humans. Even if Meliodas wanted to launch an attack, the physical shockwave alone would inevitably massacre the civilians.
"Tch!" Meliodas spat on the ground, his demonic eyes narrowing as he looked at the dense crowd with profound annoyance. "This is a bit troublesome."
Among the crowd of hostages, his sharp eyes caught a few familiar figures.
'Steve. Natasha. Clint,' Meliodas noted. 'Were they caught up in the spell while trying to evacuate the crowd down below? What a pain.'
In the crowd, only those three possessed relatively strong enough wills to resist the absolute command of Level 100 magic. Under the crushing weight of [Mass Dominate Person], the Avengers were sweating profusely, their eyes darting wildly as they physically struggled against the invisible chains binding their minds.
"Oh no!"
The scene broadcasting from the battlefield didn't just seem tricky to Meliodas. Seeing this horrific hostage situation via live satellite transmission, the citizens of the United States were also driven to absolute, righteous fury.
[How despicable! Using innocent civilians as human shields!]
[Demons are demons; they should all be sent back to hell!]
[When will those cowards in Congress finally be of some use?!]
[Is this what our taxes are paying for?!]
Countless citizens cursed loudly across the internet, the world watching in helpless terror.
The lords of the council, however, were currently locked deep in the Capitol Building's secure bunker, smoking expensive cigars and chatting with forced merriment. They had already officially handed over full operational responsibility for this war to S.H.I.E.L.D.
If S.H.I.E.L.D. won, the politicians would naturally step out of the bunker to share in the fruits of victory. If S.H.I.E.L.D. failed, they would simply continue with the nuclear bombardment protocol until the Eastern Seaboard was glass.
[The S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier]
"Captain!! Steve!!!" Nick Fury roared into the communications array, gripping the edge of the holotable. "Natasha! Clint! Respond! Respond!"
Among the high-ranking officials of the world, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. was the only one genuinely agonizing over the situation on-site. It was undeniable that Nick Fury was a cold-hearted, paranoid spy who didn't fully trust anyone. But from his position, everything he did... was entirely from the standpoint of protecting humanity.
In the center of the battlefield, facing so many innocent lives, Meliodas was indeed in a tactical bind. He couldn't unleash his Hellblaze without incinerating them all.
And just as he was gritting his teeth in thought, Steve Rogers—trembling violently in the crowd—suddenly caught his eye.
Through sheer, impossible human willpower, Steve forced his neck to turn. He locked eyes with the demonic boy and gave a single, firm, determined nod.
Meliodas understood instantly. A flash of profound respect crossed his green eyes.
In the crowd, Captain America suddenly surged into action. Tearing his muscles and fighting the magical compulsion, Steve threw his body weight forward, violently shoving the surrounding civilians down onto the asphalt. At this moment, he had no time to worry about whether the civilians were getting bruised. In a war of gods, simply surviving was already a miracle.
Under Demiurge's suddenly panicked gaze, Captain America forcefully cleared a direct, narrow path for Meliodas.
Meliodas did not fail his expectations.
The boy vanished. The razor-sharp blade of Lostvayne, blackened by viscous demonic energy, materialized right beside Demiurge's massive neck in a fraction of a microsecond.
[Triple Slash]
Several blinding flashes of black blade-light swept past. Demiurge's massive, toad-like body was instantly and cleanly sliced into several asymmetrical segments.
'Lord Ainz!' Demiurge thought, his vision spinning as his head was severed from his shoulders. 'I am so sorry...'
Before dying, Demiurge didn't care about the passing of his own life. What he deeply regretted was that he could no longer stay by the Supreme Being's side to help him conquer this world.
'Let me sweep away some dust for you one last time,' Demiurge resolved.
Among the ruined segments of his body falling to the ground, Demiurge's severed right arm trembled violently. Using the very last, fading spark of his demonic vitality, the razor-sharp claws tore through the air like a guided missile.
SQUELCH.
The claws pierced cleanly through Captain America's chest, erupting from his back.
Steve Rogers gasped, looking down at the massive, demonic claw that had just impaled his heart. Blood uncontrollably seeped from his mouth, staining his uniform.
"Captain!" Natasha screamed.
"Steve!" Clint yelled.
With Demiurge officially dead, the high-tier magic he had cast instantly lost its effect. On the floating platform, the panicked crowd was released from their mental prisons, scattering and fleeing in a cacophony of terrified noise.
When Meliodas landed and looked back, Captain America was already collapsing into the desperate arms of Natasha and Hawkeye.
Only a faint, rattling final breath remained in the super-soldier's lungs.
"Sir, you... you can save him, right?!" Hawkeye pleaded, looking up at Meliodas with wild, tear-filled eyes.
Before Hawkeye could even finish begging, Meliodas slowly shook his head, his demonic eyes filled with quiet sorrow. The Incantation Orbs he carried could only recover minor injuries and restore stamina. He possessed no magic capable of reversing a fatal wound to the heart.
"Natasha..." Steve choked out, his trembling, bloody hand reaching up to grip the Black Widow's sleeve. "Transfer... the civilians... get them out..."
In the final, fading moment of his life, Captain America's last thoughts were still entirely focused on the safety of the people.
His hand fell limp. The First Avenger was gone.
Natasha and Hawkeye sobbed quietly, gently laying Captain America's body down against the rubble. Right now, cut off in the sky, they had no way to transport his body home.
Meliodas didn't like this suffocating, sorrowful atmosphere. The tragic weight of human mortality always reminded him of his own curses.
"I'll leave the civilians to you two," Meliodas said softly.
Without stopping for a single moment, the Dragon Sin of Wrath turned his back to the mourning heroes and rocketed toward the center of the city, his demonic aura burning with renewed, lethal intensity.
Meanwhile, on the other battlefield, Ban—who was quite comfortable within his own hijacked mental space—was giving his enemies on the outside a massive, unsolvable headache.
"What should we do now?!" Aureole Omega asked, standing safely behind Sebas, her tone tinged with heavy impatience. "This human simply cannot be killed!"
Under the absolute mental control of the [Ukanomitama] spirit, Ban was currently trapped in an illusion, acting all lovey-dovey with a hallucination of the Fairy Princess, Elaine. His physical body stood completely paralyzed and defenseless on the street before them.
But even so, the catastrophic physical damage caused by the continuous strikes from Sebas and the Pleiades healed instantly. Leaving him here wasn't a tactical option, as he could break free at any moment, but guarding him was a massive waste of precious time. They couldn't kill him, and they couldn't leave.
How could the loyal servants of Nazarick not be frustrated?
And while they were struggling in reality...
Within the mental illusion.
"You should go out now, Ban," Elaine smiled softly, gently stroking the Fox Sin's scarred cheek.
Even within a fake illusion generated by enemy magic, Elaine was still the pure, considerate princess who always prioritized Ban's well-being. "The battle isn't over yet. Your companions are still waiting for you."
"Understood," Ban smiled, leaning into her ethereal touch. "Wait for me for a little while. I will come to get you for real."
Ban spoke his promise to Elaine with immense, overflowing affection, even though his brilliant survivor's instincts knew perfectly well that this was his own hijacked mental world, and the real Elaine couldn't hear him at all.
In reality, Ban's eyelids began to twitch.
Under the surprised, wary gazes of Sebas and Aureole on the periphery, Ban's eyes snapped open. He lazily stretched his arms above his head, yawning.
"Thank you guys," Ban smirked, cracking his neck. "For letting me see Elaine. However, that doesn't mean I'll show you any mercy."
The moment Ban's voice fell, the Holy Rod Courechouse in his hand swung with terrifying velocity.
BANG! BANG!
Aureole's two summoned spiritual retainers—the fox-girl and the sun-boy—were instantly obliterated by kinetic light-bullets fired from the holy staff, turning into dissipating mana across the ground.
"So fast!" Aureole gasped. She wanted to try her old trick again, purple light aggressively flashing in her hand as a complex magic circle emerged in her palm.
However, the effect this time was not as desired. The mental magic only stunned Ban's eyes for a brief, fraction of a second. A simple, violent shake of his head was enough for Ban to regain absolute clarity.
"The same cheap trick won't work on me twice," Ban sneered.
[Snatch] granted Ban unparalleled physical and magical adaptability. He could endure and adapt to the soul-crushing, sanity-destroying environment of Purgatory. A mere mental attack from a Pleiades maid was nothing.
Ban's sturdy body dove forward, the holy staff dancing wildly in his hands.
"Elaine was right," Ban declared, his crimson eyes locking onto Aureole. "The Captain is still waiting for me. So, please just die first."
A cold, lethal light flickered in Ban's eyes; he wanted to end this boring fight here and now. Thus, the holy staff in his hand swung with absolutely no mercy, aimed directly at Aureole's head.
"Sebas!" Aureole shouted loudly, retreating into the air. "Watch out!"
Standing between Ban and the maids, Sebas Tian kept his eyes closed, taking a deep breath as if making a profoundly difficult decision. To protect his subordinates, the Head Butler of Nazarick realized he had to unleash his true form.
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