Chapter 7.2. The War (3)

  Without hesitation, he seized one of the martial artists by the head, infusing him with a surge of dark energy. Moments later, the man’s body began to twist and contort, veins protruding like black rivers beneath his skin. Limbs bent unnaturally; flesh warped. The transformation intensified until, with a sickening finality, he exploded.

  Blood splattered toward the remaining martial artist—but when it touched Lucifer, it disintegrated instantly, absorbed by the protective barrier surrounding him.

  Calmly, Lucifer returned to Mephistopheles and enclosed him in a magic sphere, shielding his ally from further harm.

  Lucifer’s eyes scanned the battlefield and locked onto the miasma swirling above.

  “Wall of Death,” he commanded, raising his hand to the sky before swinging it down with deadly precision. The miasma plummeted, crashing into the ground and forming a dense, impenetrable barrier. The sheer concentration of dark energy made even approaching it agony.

  Without hesitation, Lucifer transmitted to Apollyn, rescuing him just as a deadly strike was about to land. A gust of wind erupted from Lucifer’s form, sending the remaining otherworlders flying without him even glancing at them. The miasma above him solidified into a crushing, unyielding barrier.

  Suddenly, he sensed Demon Lord Ammit’s magic drop to zero. Acting instantly, he trapped Apollyn in a magic sphere and transmitted to Ammit and Astarte’s location.

  He landed heavily, dust erupting around him, and as it settled, the horrifying sight became clear. Ammit lay on the ground, a gaping hole in her chest, while behind him, Astarte was sprawled on the ground, missing an arm.

  Lucifer’s gaze swept over the otherworlders—two males, two females—each gripping holy swords pulsing with their magic. He sighed. Before they could react, an immense wave of bloodlust erupted from him, washing over them. The sheer force pinned them in place, their chests constricted as if the air itself had thickened.

  The calm on Lucifer’s face belied the overwhelming power he was unleashing. He knelt beside Ammit, who lay motionless, and gently lifted her into his arms. Without a word, he turned and approached Astarte, enclosing her in a glowing magic sphere before carrying both away.

  One of the otherworlder males groaned in pain, his voice catching Lucifer’s attention. Calmly, Lucifer placed Ammit into a magic sphere and strode toward the others.

  He stopped before them, eyes glowing red, and grabbed the speaking otherworlder by the head. With a single motion, he drove his hand through the man’s chest, holding the still-beating heart in his hand before crushing it, sending blood spraying across the ground.

  “Create Undead,” Lucifer commanded. The body he had just destroyed rose from the ground, twisted and corrupted, bound to his will. He extended his hand toward the remaining otherworlders, weaving black magic to bend their minds and wills, forcing them to act as instruments of chaos, turning their own power against themselves.

  Lucifer’s bloodlust receded as he turned toward Astarte and the barely conscious Ammit. His eyes glowed once more, and the miasma above crashed down, forming yet another barrier. The barriers he created across Demacia now enclosed the lands his army had already conquered—a grim reminder that these territories now belonged to the Demonic race.

  Lucifer remained perfectly calm as the magic spheres he had placed the Demon Lords in began to heal them. The sphere around Ammit closed the wound in her chest, her magic slowly returning. Astarte’s lost arm was restored—a feat that drained a considerable amount of his energy.

  He gazed at both of them unconscious. Their serene appearances did not escape his notice, but he dismissed the thought quickly. Even demons and succubi could be striking in their own ways.

  Lucifer opened a portal and returned to Apollyn, then another to retrieve Mephistopheles. One final portal brought him back to where he had left his army.

  Kane stood beside The Seven Sins, still unconscious from the battle. Their power was slowly regenerating within the spheres. Lucifer carefully placed the remaining four in their own magic spheres, ensuring his generals would recover fully.

  Now, every piece was in place, and his army would soon be ready for the next phase of their conquest.

  Lucifer ordered the demonic armies at each location to remain within the barriers. Not even the otherworlders would be able to breach them, so the demons were free to roam the lands they had already conquered.

  He opened a portal to Hell and walked through, followed by Kane, as well as the Demon Lords and the Sins still contained in their magic spheres.

  Once in Hell, Kane returned each Demon Lord to their respective territories, while Lucifer placed the Sins back into their areas within his own domain.

  With everyone safely back in their positions, Lucifer finally returned to his castle. He made his way to the throne room, sat upon his throne, crossed his legs, rested his elbow on the armrest with his fist on his cheek, and closed his eyes.

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  He began reflecting on the outcome of this first attack, contemplating both the successes and the unforeseen challenges.

  Kane returned after placing the Demon Lords in their own territories. He noticed Lucifer deep in thought and quietly stood beside him. A book appeared in his hands, and he began reading, knowing full well that Lucifer was oblivious to his presence.

  Eventually, Lucifer surfaced from his contemplation and let out a soft sigh. He became aware of Kane standing beside him.

  Kane, sensing the end of Lucifer’s deep thinking, asked, “My Lord, what were you thinking so hard about?”

  Lucifer replied, “The plan I laid out worked perfectly. The only downside… the Demon Lords and the Sins nearly died.”

  “If only they were more powerful,” Kane said, unaware that his remark had just sparked an idea in the Demon King’s mind.

  Lucifer gave Kane credit for the comment, a small smirk forming as he finally knew what needed to be done. “If what they lack is simply power,” he said, “then that’s easy to fix. I’ll just give it to them.”

  “My Lord,” Kane replied cautiously, “I don’t think simply giving them power would solve all our problems. The real question is—how will you give them the power in the first place?”

  Lucifer’s eyes gleamed. “Wait and see,” he said.

  Time passed, and Lucifer occasionally returned to the human world to check on the demonic armies within the barriers he had created. There was nothing to worry about—the armies were already accustomed to waiting, and thanks to the miasma, they did not need to eat.

  Upon returning to his castle, he was informed that the Demon Lords had awoken and would be coming in a few days. True to their word, all four walked into the throne room, kneeling before Lucifer with the shame of defeat written across their faces.

  Lucifer studied each of them, noticing their self-disappointment. They clearly expected his fury—they were the ones who had chosen to join the war.

  “Do you think I am angry?” he asked.

  “Yes,” they replied.

  “And why would I be angry?” he pressed.

  “Because we messed up your plans,” they admitted.

  “I see,” Lucifer said. He rose from his throne. “Follow me.”

  They trailed behind him to the massive stadium behind his castle. Fear gnawed at them—they assumed punishment awaited. But Lucifer had no intention of punishing them.

  He walked to the centre of the stadium, inhaled deeply, and then exhaled. Magical energy surged from him, filling the entire arena. For the first time, the Demon Lords could truly feel the depth of Lucifer’s power. A vast, purple aura enveloped him, radiating authority and strength beyond comprehension.

  Lucifer opened his eyes, and Kane and the Demon Lords were taken aback to see them glowing a deep, radiant purple.

  He began waving his hands in slow, deliberate motions, as if in some trance. The purple mist that had filled the stadium shifted, moving with purpose. Beneath Lucifer’s feet, strange markings began to form on the ground. Kane and the Demon Lords quickly realized he was drawing a rune—but of what kind, they had no idea. None of them had ever seen a rune like this.

  The design was intricate: five circles, one in the centre and four surrounding it. Completing it took Lucifer nearly three minutes, each movement precise and deliberate.

  When he stopped, he held out his palm. The remaining purple energy in the stadium condensed into a shimmering sphere, which floated several meters above his head. His eyes returned to their familiar red as he spoke.

  “Enter the rune,” he commanded.

  As the Demon Lords stepped inside, an oppressive, terrible power pressed against them. Ammit was directed to stand directly in front of him, Mephistopheles and Apollyn to his left and right, and Astarte behind him. Each of them could feel the immense energy radiating from the rune, knowing that whatever was about to happen would change everything.

  He directed them to place their right hands on him—Ammit on his chest, Mephistopheles and Apollyn on his left and right shoulders, and Astarte on his back.

  “Close your eyes,” Lucifer instructed. “No matter what, do not open them.”

  Lucifer closed his own eyes, and when he opened them again, they glowed a deep purple. One by one, the Demon Lords’ souls began leaving their bodies and rising toward the purple sphere above Lucifer’s head. The sphere started to glow intensely.

  Suddenly, a thick purple mist enveloped the Demon Lords. The sphere split into four smaller spheres, each diving into a Demon Lord’s body. The rune beneath them began to crack and crumble—it had fulfilled its purpose. When the last fragment disappeared, Lucifer’s eyes returned to their normal red.

  “You may remove your hands and open your eyes,” he said.

  The Demon Lords felt no immediate difference. Before they could ask, Lucifer’s voice cut through the air.

  “By tomorrow, you will wish you had died during this ritual.”

  He dismissed them, instructing them to return to their castles and hope they would awaken the next day. Without a word, they left, shaken and silent.

  Kane stepped forward as Lucifer appeared about to collapse and helped him stand.

  “I see you noticed,” Lucifer said.

  “Yes, my lord,” Kane replied. “Even for a body as unnaturally powerful as yours, using that much magic in such a short period pushed your capacity far beyond its limit.”

  Lucifer laughed at the thought that even with all his power, he was still bound by physical limitations. Kane helped him back to the castle and onto his throne.

  Lucifer knew it would take weeks to fully recover the energy he had expended, but he had no intention of waiting that long. “Kane,” he said, “tell the chefs to prepare some of the Demonic beast meat stored in the cellar.”

  The meal was set up in the dining room on one of the castle’s floors. The Demon King’s castle, located in the northern part of Hell, remained the greatest mystery of all Hell. No one knew how many floors it had, nor if there were hidden secrets within. Yet, for some reason, Lucifer moved through it as if he knew it intimately. Kane thought about this as he watched the Demon King eat.

  As Lucifer ate, his magical power slowly began to return, restored by the preserved essence of the Demonic meat. He realized he had used thirty percent of his total power just to create that single rune. A hint of disappointment crossed his mind—so much energy expended for just one spell.

  He got over that disappointment rather quickly once his power was fully restored—after an entire week of consuming Demonic meat that still retained its essence.

  Lucifer began circulating his magical energy throughout his body. The first moments were excruciating. He coughed up blood, and Kane, watching closely, thought something was seriously wrong. “It’s nothing,” Lucifer reassured him, though his voice betrayed the strain.

  As he pushed his power, he realized the source of the pain: there were numerous blockages preventing his magic from flowing freely. The backlash inside him intensified as his energy collided with these restrictions.