Satou stood alone on the battlefield, surrounded by death and destruction, his crimson Berserk aura still blazing.

Through his enhanced perception, he could sense the remaining human forces—scattered groups across the settlement, maybe one thousand total still alive out of the original seven thousand two hundred.

But they were broken. Scattered. Leaderless. His rampage through four sectors had shattered any cohesion they might have maintained.

The settlement defenders could handle what remained.

Then Lyra’s voice came through the mental network, carrying urgency that cut through his combat focus:

"Satou! I think Seraphina’s in trouble. She went to fight Archbishop Valentine over an hour ago, and I haven’t been able to hear from her since. The mental link is... wrong. Like something’s interfering."

Satou’s flame-like eyes narrowed. Valentine. The Archbishop leading this invasion. The one powerful enough to require a full demon lord to engage.

And if Seraphina was in trouble against him...

"I’m glad to hear your voice," he sent back through the mental link, injecting warmth into the telepathic communication. "I’m glad you’re okay."

He felt Lyra’s smile through the connection, felt the relief and affection she’d been suppressing during days of desperate command. "Me too. I missed you."

Then Jessica’s voice joined the mental network, carrying her characteristic blend of strength and vulnerability: "Don’t forget about me! I missed you too!"

Both Satou and Lyra let out a mental giggle at Jessica’s timing, the brief moment of levity cutting through the tension of battle.

"I miss you both," Satou sent to them, his mental voice carrying genuine emotion. "I love you both. I’m going to where Seraphina is now. I’ve reduced their numbers significantly—killed maybe seventy percent of their forces. Our settlement can handle what’s left. I made sure to eliminate the stronger fighters and tougher units that would have given our people trouble."

"Thank you," Lyra sent back, her gratitude evident even through telepathy. "For everything. For coming back. For saving us."

Satou felt warmth at her words, but there wasn’t time for extended reunion. Seraphina needed help, and Valentine was dangerous enough that even a demon lord with three hundred years of experience was struggling.

"I’ll be off then," he sent to both Lyra and Jessica. "Stay safe. I’ll be back soon."

He released the mental connection and turned toward where his enhanced perception could sense massive magical energies clashing—the telltale signature of demon lord power colliding with divine authority.

Valentine and Seraphina’s battle was somewhere to the southeast, perhaps two miles from his current position.

[SHADOW ABSOLUTE MOVEMENT]

Satou materialized from his final shadow teleport just in time to see Valentine standing over Seraphina’s fallen form, his hand extending toward her neck, golden holy magic concentrated around his fingers into a blade-shape meant for execution.

Seraphina was down on one knee, her human form exhausted, all her demon lord power spent. She was at her limit. Valentine’s Divine Sanctuary forcefield had suppressed her throughout the fight, and an hours of combat had drained everything.

Valentine’s voice rang out with divine authority: "FINAL JUDGMENT."

His hand descended toward her neck, holy magic blazing—

[DRAGONFIRE MANIPULATION - ADVANCED]

Satou didn’t announce himself. Didn’t shout a warning. Just unleashed a torrent of white-hot dragonfire from Valentine’s complete blind spot, the flames erupting from fifty yards away with heat intense enough to melt stone.

Valentine’s combat instincts screamed danger. His body moved before conscious thought, divine-enhanced reflexes launching him backward in a desperate evasive leap.

The dragonfire scorched through the space where he’d been standing, missing him by inches, the heat so intense that the ground beneath turned to molten glass.

The Archbishop landed fifteen feet away, his hand still raised, his tactical mind racing to identify the new threat—

His eyes swept to where Seraphina had been kneeling.

She wasn’t there.

Valentine’s eyes widened slightly. Where—?

He spun, enhanced perception scanning the battlefield, and found her thirty feet away in a completely different position. Someone was kneeling beside her fallen form, someone who’d moved faster than Valentine’s divine-blessed senses could track.

A Goblin. Crimson Berserk aura blazing around him like flames. Flame-like eyes that burned with cold fury. Scales coated in dried blood from thousands of kills.

Valentine’s smile returned despite the danger. "Are you the fellow called Satou? I have heard a lot about you."

Satou didn’t reply. His entire focus was on Seraphina’s injuries—the burns, the wounds, the exhaustion.

He lifted her carefully and moved her behind cover, kneeling beside her.

"I’m sorry I’m late."

Seraphina’s hand touched his cheek weakly. "You don’t need to apologize. I love you. And I chose to protect the place you cherished. Look at the bright side—you came back when I needed you most."

She smiled, then exhaustion claimed her. She fell unconscious.

Satou lowered her gently to the ground. "Rest a little. I’ll be done soon and get you back to a comfortable bed."

He stood and turned to face Valentine.

The Archbishop was waiting, hands ready. "It’s very rude to ignore someone, you do know that right? But what does a goblin know about manners?"

Satou didn’t respond to the mockery.

He just activated his power.

"BERSERK MODE."

The crimson aura exploded outward, bloodlust so intense it became physical pressure.

Valentine felt it—felt predatory intent that promised death. His instincts screamed and he jumped backward, hands moving into combat stance, holy magic gathering around his fingers.

"You are a man of short words, right, Satou?"

Satou’s flame-like eyes locked onto Valentine with intensity that promised violence. 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

Valentine stood thirty feet from Satou, his hands coated in brilliant white holy magic, his mind calculating tactical probabilities with the cold precision that had kept him alive through decades of demon lord hunts.

Divine Sanctuary is active, his thoughts catalogued with professional detachment. The forcefield extends three hundred yards in all directions, covering the entire battlefield. Any demon, monster, or corrupted creature within its radius operates at one-tenth normal capacity.

His eyes tracked Satou’s crimson Berserk aura, noting the intensity, the way reality seemed to shimmer around the goblin’s form.