Amon's ascension did not go unnoticed.

Across the world, two forces stirred in unison.

Within the Demon Empire and the Holy Church, the greatest threats to humanity lifted their gazes to the same fractured sky, sensing the shift that had just taken place. The Prophet stood at the forefront of the Demon Empire, his expression uncharacteristically sombre.

Having just withdrawn from Morzeth, saving the three Demon Nobles from Leon's reach, he now faced something far more unsettling.

The heavens were changing.

No… the very dimension was.

It was happening faster than anyone had anticipated.

Without the Goddess seated upon the throne of Heaven, the Will of Heaven had begun to reclaim its authority. Order was reasserting itself, divine laws knitting back together, as if the world itself was rejecting the corruption forced upon it.

And at the centre of it all was Amon.

If he succeeded in forming a new Pantheon, everything the Demon Empire had worked toward would collapse. Their infiltration, their corruption, their careful manipulation of the world… all of it would be rendered meaningless.

They were out of time.

The Prophet lowered his foot and stomped.

The sound that followed was not natural.

A devil's horn echoed across the land, deep and ancient, reverberating through the very souls of those bound to the Demon Empire.

It was not a call. It was a command.

From every corner of their dominion, they came.

Demonic humans. Fanatical cultists. True demons summoned from the Demon Realm.

Like tides answering the pull of the moon, they gathered, converging upon a single point with unwavering obedience. At the forefront stood the elite. Over a dozen Demon Nobles assembled, their presence alone enough to suffocate the battlefield before it even began.

Most bore the title of Count, their power immense and undeniable, while a select few—Marquis—stood above them, their authority unquestioned.

Among those present, there was an unspoken hierarchy.

Those who had risen within the Demon Empire knew better than to challenge the Nobles who hailed directly from the Demon Realm.

Their blood, their power—it was on a different level entirely.

All… except three.

The remaining Apostles.

Once, there had been seven pillars upon which the Demon Cult had built its foundation. Each one was a manifestation of a Gospel, each one indispensable.

But time had not been kind.

The Hyades Republic—no, Amon and Eldorin—had systematically culled their ranks.

Now, only three remained.

The first stood quietly, her presence almost fragile. A bespectacled woman, her posture slightly hunched, dark circles beneath her eyes so deep they seemed endless. Yet within that exhaustion lay something suffocating. Her very existence weighed heavily on the soul.

Ravenna. The Apostle of Grief.

Beside her stood a stark contrast—a red-eyed figure whose pale, almost sickly complexion was marred by patches of scaled skin. His gaze was sharp, domineering, as though the world itself existed beneath him.

Kieran. The Apostle of Domination.

And then… There was the last.

Silence seemed to bend around him. His presence alone was enough to unsettle even the Demon Nobles. One arm—blackened, unnatural—hung at his side, pulsing faintly with something that did not belong in this world.

The demonic mana radiating from him was unmatched, oppressive to the point of distortion. He did not need to speak. He did not need to move.

Samael stood—and that was enough. The Apostle of Chaos.

The strongest among them.

Together, every force within the Demon Empire had gathered. They stood before the Prophet in absolute silence, awaiting his will.

For so long, he had restrained them. Held back their instincts. Suppressed their hunger for war, their thirst for blood.

Not out of mercy, but necessity.

They had not been ready. If they fought as they were a few weeks ago, they would have been annihilated by Amon and the rest of humanity.

But now… There was no longer time to wait.

The world was moving forward… with or without them.

It was time for their last stand.

"Kieran, gather all the forces. I don't care where they're from, if they're a fledgling cultist or a Greater Demon sent to scout the ends of the earth. Gather them all in a week."

A simple command, but that order sent shivers down the spectators' spines.

"… What about our defences?"

"We're abandoning all of our forts. When the new moon comes… we're marching to Solfea."

"!!!"

The command strung like a vicious bee. All this time, they had been holding back. But now, they were going all out. Even going so far as to abandon their resource-rich fort and launch a siege against the Solaris House.

'Must we go to that extent?'

Kieran, being the 'brain' of the Demon Empire, couldn't understand why the Prophet had a change of heart. In terms of pure warfare, it made sense to slowly chip away at the Hyades Republic, turning city by city towards the Demon Empire.

Time was on their side, or at least, that was how Kieran understood it.

As long as they established contact with the Demon Realm to summon more Demons and slowly converted humanity, it was only a matter of time before the Demon Empire ruled the world.

But of course… that was if they could survive the upcoming Great War.

"I hear and obey your command."

"Hough! Hough! Hough!"

The Demons and the cultists let out a war chant as the Prophet left to speak with the Apostles.

"Ravenna, have you finished the Chaos Dolls?"

"Y-Yes, the production process has been completed, but I can only create one Chaos Doll a day."

"Optimise it," the Prophet ordered. "You will get unrestricted access to all of our resources. Use it all up. Make as many Chaos Dolls as you can by the new moon."

"Y-yes!"

The Chaos Dolls were the Demon Empire's new trump card. After the Foolish Lich had created the method to store demonic mana into Magatamas, the Demon Empire had developed multiple ways to utilise the breakthrough.

Chaos Dolls, or Demon souls stored within war machines, were how the Demon Empire sought to take over the world. One Chaos Doll was equal to a high-ranking Knight, and they were practically indestructible by normal methods.

Only the Knights and Mages who had reached an equivalent of a Solaris Guardian Knight with five Suns condensed could damage the unbreakable Chaos Dolls.

"Kieran, I give you full command over the army. Use your skills to optimise the synergy between Demons and demonic humans."

"What about the Demon Nobles?"

"They will be under your command. If you encounter any resistance, use this badge to silence them."

The Prophet threw over a regal grey badge which held a unique demonic mana signature. When Kieran felt that badge in his hands, his eyes widened as he felt his soul being suppressed. This badge was definitely the authority of the Demon King they served.

Only something of this calibre could command the proud Demon Nobles and compel them to follow Kieran's orders.

"Thank you, my liege."

"And, Samael…"

Finally, the Prophet looked at the Apostle of Chaos. He was the most powerful, and after receiving the Demon King's blessing, he was likely on par with the strongest humans on the planet.

… just beneath the divines.

"Prepare yourself to fight… I'm counting on you."

"Heh, have I ever let you down?"

The handsome Apostle of Chaos chuckled as he clenched his black fist. Ever since he accepted the Demon King's blessing, he had been itching to try it out in battle. Especially against the monsters that stopped him back in Zephys.

Amon and Leon… he wished to crush them under his feet.

"... good, all of you prepare for the night of the new moon. That's when we march on Solfea."

"My liege, what about the Holy Church?"

Kieran interjected with a sceptical frown. They'd allied with the Holy Church, or more specifically, the Goddess Hyades. So it didn't make sense for the Demon Empire to march onto Solfea alone.

"Don't worry, just execute my orders."

The Prophet gazed to the west, where Hyarum remained suspiciously silent. Truth be told, the Prophet didn't trust the Goddess all that much. Right now, they shared a common enemy, which was why the Goddess opened the gate to her dimension and invited the Demon King's army in.

But once the threat of Amon and Leon had been subdued, there was no need for her to treat the Demons as guests.

In fact, it was very likely that the Goddess would purge the Demon Empire herself.

Still, there was nothing the Prophet could do.

The Goddess and the Demon King were beings outside his existence. Since they made a deal, the Prophet could only hope that the Goddess would keep it.

And well…

In Hyarum, a beautiful young woman sat on the Holy See. She stared down at all of her loyal subjects, the Archbishops, Paladins and thousands of fervent followers. Even the Pope, once the pinnacle of the priest and the woman who sat upon the throne of Hyarum, knelt like a zealot at the young woman's feet.

Opening her emerald eyes, the Goddess decreed.

"We march on Solfea."