Imp to Demon King: A Journey of Conquest-Chapter 475: Hand Me Your Throne 2

The upgraded Leraje quiver at her hip thrummed with barely contained malevolence, each arrow within it crafted not merely to wound but to teach its target the true meaning of suffering. Her tails swayed behind her in hypnotic patterns, each one tipped with flame that burned cold as winter stars.

And towering above them all came Karna, the legendary hero, his presence like a second sun brought to heel by mortal will. His white hair flowed like snow over shoulders that had borne the weight of impossible expectations, while his red eyes crackled with contained solar fire—burning like the core of a star, holding light so pure it made lesser beings weep to look upon it. The bow in his grip was not a mere divine weapon but a horrifying artifact, its string woven from the light of dying stars, its frame carved from Yggdrasil wood and its string coming from Heracles’ bow. Every arrow he nocked became a miniature sun, capable of burning away lies as easily as flesh, of revealing truth in ways that few mortals could survive.

"Four of them," observed Nezha, the child-deity whose youthful appearance belied power that could level mountains. His lotus-fire flickered around him in anticipation. "Against the assembled might of the Celestial Court. Either they’re supremely confident or supremely foolish."

"Both, I suspect," replied Guan Yin, the goddess of mercy, her compassion so vast it created visible distortions in the surrounding air. "Chaos’ champions rarely choose the path of wisdom when the path of courage beckons."

The Jade Emperor raised a hand, and silence fell across the celestial host like a curtain dropping. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of cosmic authority—not loud, but impossible to ignore, resonating in frequencies that touched the soul directly.

"Champions of the rebel," he said, each word measured and precise. "You come before the Celestial Court in time of war, bearing weapons and wearing the aspect of battle. State your purpose, that we might judge whether you come as ambassadors or enemies."

Izanagi stepped forward, Amenonuhoko gleaming with primal light. "We come as both, Jade Emperor. Adam offers one final chance for parley—stand down your forces, withdraw from this conflict, and no celestial blood need stain the void. Continue your alliance with those who would enslave the cosmos, and we will remind you why the old gods were feared as well as worshipped."

A ripple of amusement passed through the assembled immortals, but the Jade Emperor’s expression remained serene. "You mistake us for children, creator-god. We who have maintained the balance between order and chaos since before your islands rose from the sea. Four against ten thousand—the mathematics alone suggests this is not a battle but a gesture. What do you truly hope to accomplish here?"

Eris laughed, the sound like silver bells being shattered with deliberate care. "Oh, but mathematics is such a boring way to measure possibility, isn’t it? Variables have a way of changing when discord enters the equation. Shall we show them, friends?"

Shihan’s tails fanned out behind her, each one now wreathed in flames that burned with colors that had no names. "We came to delay you, to buy time for our allies to complete their objectives. But if the Celestial Court wishes to dance..." Her hand moved to the quiver at her hip, drawing an arrow that writhed with malevolent life. "We are prepared to lead."

Karna’s bow sang as he drew the string back, not yet nocking an arrow but letting the weapon’s divine nature resonate through the void. Where the sound touched, space itself began to warm, reality preparing for the touch of solar fury. "I have faced gods before," he said simply. "Some I have honored. Others I have humbled. Today, we discover which category the Celestial Court belongs to."

The battle began without warning, as celestial conflicts often did—not with trumpets or war cries, but with the simple, terrible moment when words failed and power became the only language that mattered.

Shihan’s first arrow left her bow like a falling star in reverse, climbing toward heaven with malicious intent. Where it struck a dragon’s scales, the wound began immediately to fester, not with infection but with despair, spreading like slow poison through the celestial creature’s divine essence.

Karna’s response was light made manifest—three arrows of pure solar fire that painted trails of molten gold across the void as they sought their targets. Each projectile was a miniature sun, burning away illusion and pretense as they flew. Where they struck the jade walls of the celestial palaces, the divine stone didn’t merely crack—it began to glow with inner fire, revealing the true nature of things beneath their perfect facades.

The immortals responded with techniques that redefined the very concept of warfare. Lei Gong’s thunder shook reality itself, sending shock waves through the realm that hadn’t been touched since the cosmos first learned to count its own heartbeats. Nezha’s lotus-fire bloomed like deadly flowers, each petal a blade of crystallised compassion that could cut through armor forged from good intentions.

But it was the sheer numbers that began to tell. For every arrow Shihan loosed with deadly precision, a dozen celestial techniques answered. For every solar beam Karna painted across the void, immortal dragons breathed responses of elemental fury. Eris danced between attacks with discord trailing in her wake, turning coordinated assaults into friendly fire, but even chaos had limits when faced with such overwhelming order.

Izanagi fought like the end of the world made flesh, his spear carving reality into new shapes with each thrust and parry. Where Amenonuhoko passed, the void bled possibilities—showing glimpses of what the Celestial Court could become if creation itself decided to revoke their divine patents. But for all his primordial power, he was still one god against an entire pantheon, and the mathematics of attrition began to assert itself with merciless precision.

"We’re being pushed back," Shihan called out, her voice tight with concentration as she loosed another arrow that bloomed into a flower of acidic light against a Buddha’s compassionate shield. Her tails were now fully aflame, each one independently targeting different threats, but it wasn’t enough. "They’re too many, too ancient, too—"