Amon and Leon's reunion was brief as the situation was dire.

No sooner had they spoken than Amon was pulled back into the storm that was rapidly consuming the world. News of the Demon Empire's march on Solfea had already spread across every nation, carried by fear faster than any messenger could ride.

And as if that were not enough, the Holy Church had begun to move as well.

An Inquisition.

For the first time in thousands of years, the Church had declared one against a major power—and not just any power.

The Solaris House.

The stronghold of the world's greatest knights. The bastion that had repelled demonic invasions time and time again. The home of the very man who had stood against the abyss when no one else could.

The message was clear.

This would not be a skirmish.

This would be the end.

The Hyades Republic responded without hesitation. Upon hearing the news, they mobilised immediately and offered their full support. Under the command of Grand Marshal Gerrick Ironblood, nearly half of their military might was redirected toward Solfea.

Legions marched in disciplined waves, forming a defensive line of unprecedented scale—a wall of humanity that stretched beyond the horizon.

It was the largest mobilisation in recorded history.

The final battle was coming.

And the world held its breath.

All believed Amon would lead this united force. That he, the one who had risen above all others, would stand at the forefront and command humanity against the encroaching darkness.

But Amon refused.

The responsibility fell instead to Alrock and the Sword Saint, who once again took up the mantle as Protector of the Realm.

It was not hesitation that stayed Amon's hand—but understanding.

He had crossed a threshold that separated him from the battlefield below.

As a newly ascended god, leading mortal troops no longer suited his role.

Or more precisely, his strength was needed elsewhere.

The Goddess. The Prophet.

Entities that existed beyond the scale of armies, beings capable of erasing entire legions with a mere thought. Against such opponents, numbers meant nothing. Strategy meant little.

Only power mattered.

Amon would stand where it mattered most.

Leon, meanwhile, prepared in his own way. He secluded himself whenever possible, pushing his limits in pursuit of completing the Eighty-One Suns Heart Mantra. Once achieved, it would grant him one final edge—one more weapon to safeguard the coalition against the overwhelming forces to come.

The rest of Eldorin did not remain idle.

They fortified. They trained. They prepared.

Every position was reinforced. Every weakness addressed. Every soldier readied themselves for what could very well be their last stand. By the time the armies fully gathered, they numbered over a million.

At the flanks stood Gerrick Ironblood and the elite forces of the Hyades Republic, guarding against any attempt to outmanoeuvre or encircle Solfea. Their presence alone ensured that no enemy would strike from the shadows.

High above, the Archmagister of the Realm, Jex Amaris, commanded the skies. From the clouds, he oversaw the battlefield, providing aerial reconnaissance while unleashing devastating arcane support alongside the mages of House Amaris.

Elsewhere, Lady Katarina Voss, President of the Demon Hunter League, waged a different kind of war. With a handpicked group of elite hunters, she would act swiftly and unpredictably, disrupting demonic forces through relentless guerrilla tactics and sowing chaos deep within enemy ranks.

Yet for all the allied forces gathered, the heart of this army remained the Solaris House.

For the first time in its history, every Knight Order had been mobilised.

All for one purpose… to defend their homeland.

At the vanguard stood the Green Dragon Order, the backbone of Solaris' military might. Over ten thousand elite knights formed an unbreakable line, supported by an arsenal of war machines designed to crush anything that dared advance.

The Blue Dragon Order secured the seas, their fleets ensuring no invasion could come from the waters that bordered Solfea. Above them, the Grey Dragon Order dominated the skies, mounted on wyverns as they patrolled the heavens, ready to intercept any aerial threat.

Across the land, the Brown Dragon Order moved like shadows, scouting, relaying information, mapping enemy movements with relentless precision.

Even the Violet Dragon Order, typically tasked with maintaining order within Solfea, had taken up arms. After evacuating civilians into fortified shelters, every able-bodied officer joined the ranks, reinforcing the army wherever needed.

And then, the elite among elites. The Black Dragon Order, led by Carmen, emerged from the shadows. Masters of espionage and assassination, they now stood openly among the ranks, their presence a silent promise of lethal precision. The White Dragon Order continued their sacred duty, guarding vital assets and key figures with unwavering vigilance.

And finally… the Golden Dragon Order. Once spoken of only in legend, they now stood revealed.

At the very front.

Unmoving. Unyielding.

The first line of defence against the end of the world.

It was not merely an army.

It was a myth made real. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

"How long more until the Demon Empire arrives?"

Alrock asked while in the chair of command, despite Amon standing just a few feet away. Amon had relinquished command of the army to Alrock, granting him supreme authority. But, at the same time, Alrock valued Amon's words more than any other.

"They should reach the borders of Solfea tomorrow."

Amon replied curtly. With how close the Demon Empire was, there was no need for Amon to send a scout. He could feel their forces closing in by the second.

"We've prepared all that we can… all we need to do is weather the storm."

"Yes," Amon spoke with absolute certainty. "The Demon Nobles they summoned might be a handful, but with the coalition forces… we should take them down."

"The only problem is…"

"The Goddess and the Prophet."

Truth was, no matter how much the ground troops exceeded that of the Demon Empire and the Holy Church combined… the only battle that mattered was the war between Gods.

If Amon lost against the combined forces of the Goddess and the Prophet… the war would be lost tomorrow.

Alas…

"There's no indication that the Goddess will strike with the Demon Empire."

Yue was the one who supplemented the information. She stared at the map before adding, "Hyarum remains quiet. If the Goddess moves, I can feel her presence."

After contracting with Origin, Yue could spread her senses to anywhere on the planet. Naturally, she concentrated her attention on Hyarum, or more specifically, the Goddess Hyades. If Hyades moved, she would be the first to be notified.

"That's good… Combined, they would be a problem. But if we fight them one by one…"

Alrock was about to say it was manageable before he caught himself. Realising that the foes that they were facing were far beyond his skill level, he couldn't callously comment about them.

"No, Grandpa Alrock. You're right. The Goddess is a tougher fight for sure. After all, we don't know how powerful she is in the material plane."

Everything from here on out is uncharted territory for Amon and Yue. [Bright] never got to the part where the Titans were resurrected. While in Yue's previous timeline, they were decimated by the Demon Cult even before the Goddess had a chance to descend.

They didn't have information about the Goddess's powers. Heck, they didn't even know the full extent of the Prophet's powers. Naturally, as newly ascended divines, they had their guesses. But nothing was absolute.

"So, let's not hold any punches. The moment the Demon Empire attacks… we strike them back."

"Understood, young lass."

Alrock laughed heartily, perhaps for the last time before the war formally began.

"What about Leon? How is his seclusion?"

"He should be coming out soon. I sense… he might gain a greater power than we've ever anticipated."

"That's good. We will need his firepower to deal with the Demon Army."

In terms of combat strength, Leon ranks third in the entire coalition. Amon and Yue were about equal, but Leon wasn't that far behind. If he succeeds in condensing eighty-one suns… perhaps he would even surpass Amon and Yue in pure mana capacity.

"... speak of the devil."

Just as their voices carried across the war-torn silence, the world answered.

Light.

Brilliant, overwhelming light spilt across the heavens, washing away the tension in a single, breathtaking moment.

Auroras bloomed across the sky in cascading waves of colour, stretching from horizon to horizon as if the very firmament had come alive.

Then… a pillar of radiance erupted upward.

It tore through the sky with absolute authority, splitting the clouds as though they were mere illusions. From within that divine brilliance, something vast began to take shape.

A phantom emerged.

A lion—colossal, majestic, and divine.

Its form was forged of light itself, its mane flowing like liquid gold and silver intertwined. With a silent roar that echoed not through sound, but through the soul, it ascended into the heavens, its presence alone commanding reverence from all who beheld it.

And then… it dispersed.

Its essence scattered across the sky, fracturing into countless streams of light that converged into something even greater.

Eighty-one suns.

They hung above the battlefield, each one blazing with equal brilliance, connected by endless currents of radiant energy that flowed between them like an eternal network.

Together, they formed a celestial constellation of power—vast, unending, absolute.

At the centre of it all stood a man.

Leon.

In his prime, his presence had transcended the mortal realm. His golden hair flowed gently to his shoulders, untouched by the chaos below, while his piercing blue eyes shone with a clarity that rivalled the suns themselves.

And with his ascension, the world felt it.

An invisible pressure descended upon every being present, pressing down with overwhelming weight.

For a fleeting moment, it was suffocating, but not for long.

That pressure softened, turning warm.

Something comforting.

A presence that did not crush, but uplifted.

Strength surged through every soldier, every knight, every ally beneath his domain.

Wounds eased. Fatigue lightened. Resolve hardened.

This was not domination.

This was protection.

Leon's divinity.

With the eighty-one suns acting as an endless reservoir of energy, he cast his will across the battlefield, granting protection to over a million souls without falter, without strain.

Each one was enveloped in his blessing, shielded by a power that stood between them and annihilation. This was his final evolution. The culmination of everything he had become.

And on the eve of humanity's last stand, Leon had risen to meet it.

"Looks like our chances of winning the war have doubled."