Always the same way: slowly at first, in hesitant clusters, one foot after the other as if the void itself were calling them.
Then, as the first ones vanished into the light, the next ones followed faster, until it became a real crowd.
One last breath, one last glance back—
and they crossed, one by one, swallowed by the ninth floor.
But this time, something was different.
Radically.
It wasn’t the noise.
Nor the fear.
Not even the anticipation.
It was… the point of arrival.
Kael set foot on the other side—
and his breath caught instantly.
Before him stretched a volcanic plain.
Vast. Immense.
Suffocating with heat.
The ground was black, cracked, streaked with glowing veins where lava moved like burning blood.
The air wavered, heavy, sticky, each breath scraping a dry sting deep in the throat.
And around him…
Circular islets.
Dozens.
Maybe more.
Small disks of rock, barely five meters wide, floating above incandescent nothingness.
Each separated by streams of molten magma—so close it looked like a single wrong breath could tilt them and make them vanish.
And on each islet—
like a beacon,
a trap,
a point of no return…
…a rift.
Shifting.
Vibrating.
Alive.
A self-contained portal for every Conqueror.
Each one a world,
each one a fate,
each one an assigned position—separated, isolated, exposed.
Kael froze.
Every part of him screamed that something here was wrong.
Not just the scenery.
Not just the heat.
Something deeper.
Older.
A presence.
A gaze.
As if Hell itself had been waiting for them.
As if this ninth floor wasn’t a trial—
but an execution.
System windows snapped open one after another, with a sharp crack:
- [ Main Objective: Defeat the Emissary of Betrayal ]
? [ Secondary Objective: Defeat him in under 5 minutes ]
? [ Hidden Objective: Attract an Archdemon’s Interest – VALIDATED ]
? [ Hidden Objective: Repeatable – VALIDATED x2 ]
Kael blinked.
The text still vibrated in front of him, as if unsure whether to disappear.
Then… something else caught his eyes.
Far away, through waves of heat distorting the air, a silhouette materialized.
Blurry at first.
Shaking.
Then more defined.
A throne.
Enormous.
Carved from a material so dark even light seemed to sink into it.
And upon it…
A creature.
Regal in posture,
but massive enough to make one thing perfectly clear:
no fight against such a being would end without sacrifice.
Kael’s heart skipped a beat.
Then the pain struck.
The Eye of Nyx.
It didn’t burn—
but the sensation was close.
A sharp jolt.
A violent pressure inside his socket.
As if something were crushing his vision from within.
The Eye was resisting something.
Trying to pierce an illusion—
but this illusion was far superior to anything he had ever faced.
Blood trickled from the corner of his eye.
A red streak down his cheek.
Then a glow.
Golden.
Bright.
A tiny flame shooting out from his iris.
As if the Eye refused to fail.
As if it tore itself open to reveal the truth.
The world shattered.
Literally.
Like glass exploding under pressure.
The majestic creature vanished.
The throne too.
Erased.
Ripped out of existence as if it had never been there.
In their place—
A weight.
A crushing weight.
So heavy Kael struggled to stay standing.
His legs trembled despite him.
Around him, most other Conquerors were already on their knees,
forced down by the monstrous aura.
Then a new window appeared—flickering in a storm of errors and glitches:
- [ Main Objective: Survive 5 minutes against Belzebuth ]
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? [ Secondary Objective: Survive 10 minutes ]
Kael slowly lifted his head.
And he saw him.
Belzebuth.
The Archdemon of Betrayal.
Slumped lazily on his throne like a bored prince,
watching insects squirm before their death.
A smile.
Wide.
Cruel.
Barely containing the pleasure he took in their despair.
Kael felt his blood freeze.
The ninth floor had only just begun.
He stepped forward.
Just one step.
And something, far away, grabbed his attention.
Veda.
On an islet several meters away.
She was shouting.
He could see it in the movement of her lips,
her frantic gestures,
the panic twisting her face—
but he heard nothing.
Belzebuth’s aura’s buzzing drowned everything out—
as if the world had been stuffed with burning cotton.
Then a sound forced its way through.
Faint.
Warped.
— … Ka…
He narrowed his eyes.
Another sound.
Clearer.
— … kael…
He took a step toward her.
Her voice pierced the heat wall at last—
in fragments.
— … der… re…
A chill ran up his spine.
He frowned.
Veda was screaming now.
Tears streamed down her face.
She stretched her arm toward him like her life depended on that word.
— BEHIND YOU!
The world exploded.
A brutal pain ripped through his chest—
dry, cold, merciless.
The tip of a dagger emerged between his ribs,
drenched in red.
Kael froze.
His breath vanished.
A metallic taste filled his mouth.
Veda screamed his name.
She tried to jump toward him—
but Kiyoshi grabbed her with a firm arm.
Gravyor held her too, keeping her from throwing herself into the magma.
— Let go of me!
— KAEL!
She fought like someone possessed,
tears flooding down her cheeks,
her voice shattered by panic.
Kael didn’t move.
His gaze slid slowly toward the throne.
Belzebuth was staring at him.
Smiling.
Slow.
Cruel.
Satisfied.
Kael inhaled with difficulty,
as if every breath might tear his throat apart.
He forced his body to turn.
Millimeter by millimeter.
In crushing silence.
And he saw him.
The one holding the dagger.
The one whose hand barely trembled.
No.
Impossible.
Not him.
Kael closed his eyes for just a second.
One.
When he opened them—
the silhouette was still there.
Real.
Unavoidable.
— … Adam…
The truth hit harder than the blade.
Kael remained frozen.
His mind refused.
Completely.
No.
This wasn’t real.
It wasn’t him.
His brain tried to invent explanations—
illusion, mirage, a distortion caused by pain—
anything.
Anything except this.
He blinked.
Once.
Twice.
The world spun around him—
but that silhouette remained
still.
Solid.
He tried to step back—his legs wouldn’t obey.
He tried to speak—not a sound came.
No.
Impossible.
Not him.
Not this.
Kael shut his eyes again.
Just for a fraction.
When he opened them—
Nothing had changed.
The dagger.
The blood.
The face.
Adam.
And now,
denial had nowhere left to hide.
Kael collapsed to his knees.
His body was empty.
His mind too.
The dagger still pierced his chest—cold, vibrating—
but it was nothing compared to the collapse ripping through him.
A wave of emotions surged all at once.
Dirty, chaotic, impossible to contain.
Sadness.
Pain.
Rage.
Hatred.
Disgust.
Confusion.
And that void—
that void swallowing everything else.
A hollow where his heart should’ve been.
And that collapse—
far more than the wound—
is what Thana felt.
She, who had willingly thrown herself into near-hibernation,
locked in deep sleep to hasten her recovery,
was violently pulled out of it.
Like an animal instinct.
A survival reflex.
A silent scream dragging her from the abyss.
Kael’s emotional shock.
His raw despair.
His break.
It detonated.
Black particles burst out of his skin—
from his pores, palms, neck—
like living smoke,
dense, hungry.
They rose into the air,
gathering,
clumping,
compressing into a mass that hurled itself at Adam.
In a single heartbeat,
the cloud shaped into a neck.
Then a hand.
Then an arm.
Then a full torso.
Thana.
Whole.
But different.
Her eyes…
A first.
A bottomless abyss with golden pupils blazing with absolute fury.
An impossible mix:
icy coldness,
devastating sadness,
pure rage,
and a ferocity he had never seen in her.
Adam had no time to react.
Thana’s hand closed around his throat.
A crack.
A breath cut off.
Then his body was thrown like a useless toy.
Launched over sixty meters—
his body drawing a brutal arc through the air
before being hurled straight toward Belzebuth’s platform.
He hit the central platform violently.
The impact echoed across the entire volcanic field.
Instantly—
as if the ninth floor had been waiting for this exact moment—
red stone bridges erupted from the magma.
One after another.
Violent.
Massive.
They extended with a deep rumble,
connecting every islet to the central platform where Kael still collapsed.
Thana felt the ground tremble.
It didn’t matter.
Her priority was Kael.
She fully materialized,
leaving behind the last strands of shadow that had rebuilt her.
Then she leaned down
and wrapped her arms around him.
An embrace.
Not warrior-like.
Not violent.
Not defensive.
A maternal embrace.
She knew.
She had seen.
She had felt.
Kael must never lose control.
Never.
Not after… last time.
Not what he became.
Not what he could become again.
But more than that—
far stronger than fear—
she couldn’t bear to see him suffer.
That’s what tore her apart the most.
She held Kael tighter,
then slowly raised her head toward the throne.
Belzebuth.
Prince of Betrayal.
Lounging like a bored sovereign,
a mocking smile carved across his face,
eyes half-lidded, arrogant,
as if watching an insect struggle inside a web.
Thana inhaled.
Her expression changed.
Her fury turned calm.
Calm… but cold.
Deadly.
Her body lifted a meter off the ground,
a slow, fluid, inhuman levitation.
Forcing the Archdemon to raise his eyes toward her.
To look at her.
To acknowledge her presence.
Her lips curled into a smile.
Not a warm smile.
Not a joyful one.
A smile sharp enough to cut.
She locked eyes with the Prince
and said, in a clear, almost amused voice:
— You haven’t changed, kid.
A second of silence.
The arena held its breath.
— Still using your spoiled-brat tricks whenever you don’t get what you want.
Belzebuth blinked.
Slowly.
Thana tilted her head slightly, savoring it:
— Makes me wonder how your father would react if he learned about this.
Belzebuth’s smile froze—
by a single millimeter.
And that tiny shift
made the islets tremble.
The Prince went still.
A micro-second.
Then his smile disintegrated.
Literally—
as if someone had ripped it off his face.
His features twisted, warped by brutal, violent, primal anger.
A rage he never showed.
A rage… no one had ever forced out of him.
Belzebuth—
Prince of Betrayal,
the one who despises everything,
the demon who manipulates kings, gods, empires—
—had just been humiliated.
Publicly.
By someone he had not anticipated.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Dense.
Even the magma seemed to stop bubbling.
Thana didn’t blink.
She stared straight into him—
with that terrifying calm only ancient monsters possessed.
Then she ended the “conversation” with a soft voice, almost tender…
which only made her words more destructive:
— Between the two of us, it’s pretty clear who the frustrated insect was.
Belzebuth’s face twisted.
A mix of wounded pride, visceral hatred, and…
a tiny sliver of fear.
Or maybe memory.
Thana inclined her head—
like a queen indulging a noisy child:
— You’re lucky I haven’t recovered my full strength yet.
Her voice dropped.
A murmur.
But a murmur that cracked the air like an absolute truth:
— Because even your father would have begged me on his knees to spare you.
Belzebuth’s rage detonated.
Not in a scream.
Not in a movement.
In aura.
A wave of infernal power tore through the air—brutal, suffocating—
crushing the ground, shattering new chunks of stone.
The remaining Conquerors were slammed to their platforms,
some convulsing under the overwhelming pressure.
Kael’s heart skipped a beat.
Thana didn’t move a millimeter.
She didn’t even lift a hand.
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