Chapter 95
“Damn it… You’ve gotta be kidding me!!”
Leviathan screamed as she was violently rejected from the time-space she had tried to invade.
The control over the time-stop authority had returned—once again—to Amael.
It was only a fragment of Asmodeus’s power.
A fraction that even a mortal body could barely wield.
And yet, even that was too much to interfere with.
The scale of Asmodeus’s divinity had grown so monstrously vast, it was in another realm entirely.
Leviathan turned her eyes toward the others—Satan and Belphegor.
Belphegor was blank-faced.
Satan stood steaming, his metallic body glowing red-hot from strain.
“What the hell were you two doing while I was holding the line?!”
“You were supposed to FINISH IT!!”
Leviathan roared, her voice shaking the spiritual plane.
But Satan, instead of responding, howled—a monstrous cry that made the heavens tremble.
She rolled her eyes.
“So this is what it’s come to? The mighty Wrath’s army can’t even handle one measly Lust-branded Apostle? How pathetic.”
“Watch your mouth, Jealousy. Before I RIP. IT. OFF.”
Satan snarled.
Leviathan giggled.
“Why don’t you save that temper for Asmodeus?
She’s the one eating all your hard work alive. And you’re threatening me?”
“You little—!”
With a roar, Satan unsheathed his sword—Valtarukh.
Forged from pure wrath and resentment, it was the deadliest blade his cult had ever offered up.
But Leviathan just scoffed, cracking her own whip with a snap.
“You think you’re the only one armed? Fine. Let’s finish this, you overgrown dumbass!”
Just as they were about to clash—
“ENOUGH!!”
Belphegor shouted, tired and frustrated.
“Are you trying to self-destruct before we even fight Asmodeus?!”
Satan hissed.
“Get out of the way—!”
“She’s going to consume the entire mortal world at this rate!
All three of us spent centuries building power—are you just gonna let her devour it all?!”
Her words cut through their fury.
Both Satan and Leviathan backed down.
Reluctantly.
“Like hell I’ll let that monster steal everything I’ve invested in.”
“I don’t care about Satan—but no way I’m letting her win.”
Spite was a hell of a motivator.
“We’ve confirmed it now,” Belphegor said, taking control of the conversation.
“Amael is stronger than we thought. And Kanya is no pushover either. We need a real strategy.”
“I say we send more troops,” Satan growled.
“One hundred wasn’t enough? Fine. A thousand. No—ten thousand.”
“There’s no space for that, you idiot!”
Leviathan snapped.
Belphegor agreed.
“The more we cram in, the weaker our divine links become.
We already saw what happens when Amael uses wide-range attacks. Even if we get Belia back, we’ll lose too much ground.”
Satan’s armor flared with rage.
“Then I’ll just descend myself. Like Mammon did!”
Leviathan laughed coldly.
“And end up like him? You do remember what happened, right?
His real body was devoured by Asmodeus. Our cores are safer in the spiritual realm.”
“So what do you suggest we do then?!”
Silence.
They had no good options.
Fighting in the spiritual realm risked everything.
Fighting in the mortal world meant throwing pawns at an invincible enemy.
Asmodeus was growing too fast.
Too massive.
And still—they had no clear path forward.
Finally—
“We can’t win alone.”
Leviathan said it.
Flat. Blunt. True.
“We need to ask Lucifer for help. Without him, our odds are shot.”
No one objected.
They had no pride left to protect.
Asmodeus had already proven she was far beyond their control.
The three Demon Lords returned to Hell.
And sought out the Prince of Pride himself.
“So,” Lucifer drawled.
“You finally came crawling for help.”
“Yes,” Belphegor admitted.
Lucifer chuckled darkly.
“Tch. Nothing ever goes smoothly with you three.”
He reached out.
A length of black iron chain appeared in his hand.
With a sharp pull, the chains groaned and tightened—locking down something unseen.
“I’ve added another command chain on Asmodeus.
From now on, Amael can no longer use the time-stop authority.”
The three Demon Lords exchanged relieved glances.
But Lucifer’s face remained grim.
His fingers trembled.
The price of unleashing power beyond his schedule.
“I can only hold this for seven days. That’s it.
The Divine Throne’s backlash is growing stronger. Even I can’t restrain Asmodeus forever.”
“Seven days is enough,” Leviathan grinned.
“My followers are untouched. If we use them smartly, we can split Amael and Kanya apart.”
“You better succeed,” Lucifer said softly.
But the weight behind his words was chilling.
They fled quickly—back to the spiritual realm.
Now, the operation was in Leviathan’s hands.
Because only she had untouched resources.
“My followers will handle it,” she said.
“But I’ll need help. From both of you.”
“Name it,” Belphegor replied.
“What do you need?” Satan asked.
Leviathan turned to Belphegor.
“That collector’s piece of yours—your second-favorite after Belia. I want it.”
Belphegor’s face twisted in disgust.
But she answered,
“...Then don’t fail.”
Leviathan turned to Satan next.
“And your sword. Valtarukh.”
“My sword?!”
“We’re giving it to Belphegor’s collector.
They’ll go after Amael. My people will handle Kanya.”
Satan groaned, but slowly extended the weapon—his hand trembling.
“It’s too much for a mortal. You’ll have to dampen it.”
“I know,” Leviathan smiled.
She accepted both artifacts with a giddy, twisted joy.
And then—she gazed down upon Amael.
Her grin stretched wide across her face, cruel and eager.
“This is going to be so much fun, Amael.
I can’t wait.”
***
The bodies of the slain followers of Satan and Belphegor didn’t take long to begin dissolving.
There was no need to dig graves.
They melted away into nothing but puddles of blood—leaving not even a single bone behind.
While that happened, Kanya was busy arming herself with the fallen enemies’ firearms.
“With my limbs the way they are, it’s always been hard to use melee weapons. But guns... they solve that problem perfectly.”
A revolver.
A bolt-action rifle.
Ammo belts strapped across her chest and waist.
I watched as Kanya inspected the firearms with smooth, practiced motions—and couldn’t help but laugh in amazement.
“Never thought you’d be this good with guns.”
“It’s one of my goddess’s blessings. Her authority lets me wield any weapon with mastery.
I can’t keep being dead weight forever.”
“Now that’s what I call reassuring. Alright—shall we move?”
I dropped to one knee and offered her my back.
Kanya climbed on.
“How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Not long.”
She responded to my words by wrapping her arms tightly around me.
“...Thank you.”
“I’m doing this for me. No need to thank me. Ready? We move.”
“Yes.”
The moment I confirmed she was secured on my back, I prepared to take off—
Then suddenly—
[WARNING!!]
[Ability usage restricted!]
[Time-stop UNAVAILABLE!]
A bright red system alert exploded across my vision.
Had it not appeared, I probably would’ve already sprinted far ahead by now.
Wind rushed into my ears.
Cold crept across my skin.
Time, which had been frozen still, had started flowing again.
“What the hell’s going on?!”
Kon’s voice was laced with panic.
“Time-stop’s gone?!”
I was just as rattled.
[Skill usage: UNAVAILABLE!]
[Skill usage: UNAVAILABLE!]
No matter how many times I tried, the result was the same.
It was... gone.
“W-Why did time suddenly—?!”
“I don’t know either. This is bad.”
My invincible armor, my greatest weapon, had just been stripped away.
“...This feels targeted. Like someone planned this.”
I agreed.
Unless the three Demon Lords orchestrated this themselves, there was no rational explanation.
“If they’re not idiots, they’re gonna make their move right now. Amael, we need to go. NOW. If we don’t—”
That’s when it happened.
As if on cue, the space in front of us tore open vertically—ripping like a curtain drawn from heaven to hell.
And from that rift, a single person began to step through.
My eyes widened.
Kanya shivered on my back.
Even Kon, usually unshakable in his vulgar confidence, muttered:
“We are so screwed. What the hell is that?”
Crude.
But also terrifyingly accurate.
My fist clenched.
This one wasn’t going to be easy.
And for good reason.
“...Legiones Quattuor?”
They had once stood beside Iomene, as her royal guard.
But the one walking toward me now was... different.
Where her soldiers had worn gleaming white armor—this one wore jet-black plate.
Where their breastplates bore Dullaneir’s crest—this one bore the sigil of Belphegor.
In one hand, he gripped a terrifying, flame-wreathed sword.
From beneath his helmet, blood-red eyes blazed with murderous light.
And—
He was aiming a cannon-sized revolver straight at me.
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