The battlefield’s silence was broken by the sound of rushing wind and the thundering of footsteps as the Demon Lord and his companions charged forward with renewed vigor. Though their bodies were battered and weary from the unrelenting conflicts, their morale burned brighter than ever. The betrayal by Ciel had reignited a fervent resolve within them, driving them beyond the limits of their exhaustion. Their leader, the Demon Lord, radiated fury and defiance as he led the charge, his mismatched eyes blazing with unyielding rage.

  Ciel stood tall, his emerald form glowing with vibrant energy. The twisted smile on his face revealed his delight at the confrontation, his red hair flowing like molten fire. To him, this was not merely a battle—it was an opportunity to showcase the unrivaled might bestowed upon him by the Emerald Tree. The finish line was within sight, and victory felt inevitable. “Come,” Ciel sneered, his voice resonating with mockery. “Let me see if you can even scratch me.”

  The trio of warriors attacked with flawless coordination, their movements synchronized in perfect unity. The Demon Lord struck with raw power, his claws tearing through the air with devastating intent. Insight followed with fluid precision, her shadowy scythe carving arcs of darkness that hummed with lethal energy. Greed, fiery and relentless, wielded her twin golden axes, their gleaming edges a blur as they sought to cleave through Ciel’s defenses.

  But Ciel was ready. His movements were precise and effortless as he raised one arm to block the Demon Lord’s ferocious strike, the other intercepting Insight’s sweeping scythe. He swayed with uncanny grace, narrowly evading Greed’s whirling axes as they passed dangerously close to his emerald form. The sound of their blows echoed simultaneously across the battlefield, reverberating through the desolate ruins like the tolling of war drums.

  For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The armies, now hidden or retreating, had ceased their battles entirely, leaving only the sounds of this new and epic conflict. The crackling of the remaining fires—the last remnants of the God of Sun—provided a haunting backdrop to the chaos that now consumed the battlefield.

  The fight escalated with every exchange of blows, the combatants moving faster and striking harder. The Demon Lord, Insight, and Greed worked in unison, their attacks weaving together in complex patterns designed to overwhelm Ciel. But Ciel’s defense remained impeccable, his adaptability growing with each moment. The power of the Emerald Tree coursed through him, refining his reflexes and sharpening his awareness. It was as though he was learning their movements, adapting to their techniques with every strike they made.

  With a flick of his wrist, Ciel deflected the Demon Lord’s attack and countered with a vicious palm strike that sent Insight staggering backward. “Is this the strength of Hell’s mightiest warriors?” he taunted, his voice laced with disdain. “You should have stayed down.”

  But the Demon Lord surged forward, his claws igniting with dark flames as he swung with unrelenting ferocity. “We’ll see who stays down when I rip that smug grin off your face!” he roared.

  The sound of their battle grew louder, each clash of weapons and fists echoing across the desolate cityscape. The ground trembled under the weight of their power, cracks spidering outward as their blows shattered the earth beneath them. Fires flared and smoke curled toward the sky, masking the violence with a haze that only added to the suspense.

  Ciel deflected another strike with ease, his grin widening as he swiveled his hips to avoid Greed’s axes, the golden blades slicing through the air mere inches from his face. “Your rhythm is predictable,” he mocked. “Perhaps the next time you step onto my battlefield, you should come prepared.”

  Greed growled, her frustration boiling over as she swung her axes faster and harder, determined to land a blow. Insight, recovering from Ciel’s earlier strike, rejoined the fray, her scythe weaving patterns of shadow that seemed to distort the light around them. The Demon Lord pressed forward relentlessly, his claws burning with malevolent energy. Together, they forced Ciel into a position where even his flawless defense began to falter.

  But Ciel adapted. The power of the Emerald Tree pulsed through his veins, making him stronger with every exchange. His movements became sharper, his counters swifter, his taunts more confident. The crackling energy around him intensified, the green light emanating from his skin growing brighter. He was no longer merely fighting—he was evolving.

  The epic battle reached a crescendo, their blows increasing in ferocity and speed. The clash between Ciel and the Demon Lord with his companions was no longer just a fight; it was a symphony of chaos and destruction, a testament to power and betrayal that would be remembered throughout Hell and beyond. Yet with every step forward, every strike landed, a sense of dread lingered in the air, for the outcome of this battle would shape the future of them all.

  The battlefield lay eerily silent, save for the crackling fires that still devoured the ruins of Verdince’s south side. The sun bore down relentlessly on the desolate wasteland, its light mingling with the ash-filled air to create an otherworldly haze. Above, the smoke twisted and churned, a fitting backdrop for the escalating clash of titanic powers below. Ciel’s emerald form glowed with unsettling brilliance, his twisted smile widening as he raised both arms to the sky, preparing to unleash a grand spell.

  The air around him vibrated ominously, charged with the unnatural energy emanating from his hands. Sparks of green light crackled like miniature lightning strikes, coiling upward to form a swirling mass of power above his head. The ground beneath him trembled violently, as if the earth itself recognized the magnitude of the magic he was about to unleash.

  But the Demon Lord refused to let him finish. With a roar that seemed to echo through the heavens, he surged forward, his claws ignited with dark flames. The distance between them was obliterated in a blur of motion, and before Ciel could release his spell, the Demon Lord struck, his fist smashing into Ciel’s torso with a force that shattered the concentration of the spell and sent Ciel staggering backward. The swirling green magic above him dissipated instantly, crackling into harmless sparks that vanished into the ash-filled air.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  As Ciel recoiled, Greed and Insight seized the opportunity to attack. Greed’s twin golden axes flashed with fiery intensity as she moved with relentless speed, aiming for Ciel’s exposed flank. Her strike connected, the impact sending emerald sparks flying as Ciel’s defenses faltered momentarily. Insight followed suit, her shadowy scythe carving through the air with deadly precision before slashing against Ciel’s side, leaving behind tendrils of dark energy that lingered like scars.

  The Demon Lord, Insight, and Greed regrouped quickly, their bodies battered but their spirits defiant. Their weapons burned with purpose as they prepared for a follow-up strike, their movements synchronized as they honed in on Ciel. But their unified assault was interrupted as Ciel’s frustration boiled over, his emerald aura surging violently. His once-mocking grin twisted into a scowl as his movements became faster, more erratic.

  “You think you can keep me down?” Ciel snarled, his voice reverberating with rage. "I’ll show you what real power looks like!"

  In a flash, he moved, his body a streak of green light as he blurred across the battlefield. The three combatants barely had time to react before Ciel began landing blows. He struck Greed first, his emerald fists slamming into her axes with a force that sent her sprawling backward. Before Insight could retaliate, Ciel appeared behind her, delivering a devastating kick that launched her into the air. He closed the gap with the Demon Lord, his fists colliding with his former master’s claws in an explosive clash of red and green energy.

  The sky above became their battleground as the two demons ascended in a fury of motion, their strikes tearing through the air with deafening cracks. Ciel danced around the Demon Lord’s attacks with ease, his speed making him untouchable as he peppered his former king with rapid blows. The Demon Lord countered with wild swings, his claws ignited with black flames, but each strike missed its mark as Ciel’s movements defied all prediction.

  The two descended back to the earth, the impact of their landing sending shockwaves across the battlefield. Insight and Greed, bruised but undeterred, rejoined the fight, forcing Ciel to split his focus. The battle raged in all directions as the combatants moved faster than the eye could follow, their movements weaving through the broken city and the smoke-filled sky above.

  But the tide of battle was shifting. The Demon Lord’s exhaustion from his previous encounters began to show. His swings slowed, his movements grew less fluid, and his breathing became heavy and labored. Insight and Greed, equally drained, struggled to keep pace with Ciel’s unrelenting speed and ferocity. Each strike they attempted was met with a counterattack that sent them reeling. Ciel, fueled by the power of the Emerald Tree, seemed to grow stronger with every passing moment, his emerald glow brightening as the fight became increasingly one-sided.

  The sounds of their battle reverberated through the empty city, each clash of energy echoing with the weight of their struggle. Flames flickered in the distance, casting their shadows across the broken terrain. The tension grew, the outcome uncertain, as the fight reached a precarious edge—one that threatened to tip in favor of the Betrayer.

  The skies above Verdince burned with streaks of green and black as the sound of battle raged on. Mira, watching from the tower, clutched the windowsill tightly, her knuckles white with tension. Her breath hitched as she witnessed the battlefield below—her friends, her newfound family, were struggling against a foe far greater than she could have imagined. Each swing of the Demon Lord’s claws, each strike of Greed’s golden axes, and each sweep of Insight’s scythe seemed to falter against the overwhelming power of Ciel. Her confidence began to waver, the hopeful spark in her chest dimming as the reality of the situation set in. They were losing.

  Beside her, Baphomet stood rigid, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his coal-black eyes fixed on the distant fight. His expression was unreadable, but within, his emotions churned. A twisted mix of satisfaction and worry warred within him. Seeing the Demon Lord finally being put in his place brought a smug sense of schadenfreude, but the sight of Ciel—the emerald-skinned monster radiating with unholy power—stirred something deeper, something far less pleasant. For all his disdain for the Demon Lord, Baphomet couldn’t ignore the truth: a worse monster had stepped onto the stage.

  “Baphomet, you have to go and help them!” Mira’s voice cut through his thoughts. She turned toward him, her emerald eyes wide with desperation, her hands trembling as she pleaded. “Please! I can’t just stand here and watch them die. You have to do something!”

  Baphomet shook his head slowly, his voice calm yet tinged with unspoken doubt. “You heard him,” he said, his tone flat. “I am to stay here and guard you. Who knows… maybe Ciel will be a better king.” But his words lacked conviction, and even Mira could hear the hesitation in his voice.

  Below, the battle had become grim. Greed and Insight, both bloodied and exhausted, barely managed to stay upright as they pressed on with dwindling strength. Their movements were slower now, their once-flawless coordination faltering as Ciel’s relentless attacks pushed them to the edge. The Demon Lord, though battered and weary, fought to defend them, his focus split between keeping Ciel at bay and protecting his companions. Every strike he landed seemed less effective, every swing of his claws more labored. And still, Ciel grew stronger, his green aura pulsating as if the battlefield itself fed his power.

  The Demon Lord roared as he launched another attack, his dark flames igniting with a surge of desperation. But Ciel moved like a phantom, dodging with infuriating ease. His laughter rang out as he retaliated, driving the Demon Lord back with a devastating blow. “Keep struggling, old king!” Ciel mocked, his voice dripping with amusement. “It’s only prolonging the inevitable.”

  Mira collapsed to her knees, tears spilling down her cheeks as she watched Greed and Insight fall to the ground, too weak to rise. It was as if the world was repeating itself—another family torn from her, another loss she could do nothing to stop. “No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I can’t… not again.”

  Baphomet turned his gaze toward her, his cold heart beginning to feel an unfamiliar heaviness. Watching Mira tremble, her shoulders shaking with sobs, stirred something he hadn’t felt in centuries. The weight of her helplessness gnawed at him, and for the first time in his long existence, he began to question his apathy.

  He sighed deeply, his voice softening as he spoke. “Although…” he began, his words deliberate, “the Demon Lord did assign you as my new master. So, if you were to ‘order’ me to help them, well… I’d have no choice but to obey.”

  Mira’s head snapped up at his words, a glimmer of hope flickering in her tear-streaked eyes. “What—what do you mean?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  Baphomet’s gaze remained steady, his expression unreadable. “Order me, Mira,” he said simply. “Give the command.”

  A wave of determination swept over Mira as she rose shakily to her feet, her hands clenched into fists. Her voice, stronger than it had ever been, rang out with resolve. “Baphomet, as your master, I order you to help the Demon Lord, Greed, and Insight to kill Ciel!”

  For a moment, there was silence. Then, Baphomet’s lips curled into a faint smile, and his body began to shift. His skin darkened to a deep, shadowy black as glowing green eyes opened across his form like otherworldly stars. His head transformed into its true goat-like shape, crowned with massive, twisted horns that radiated with malevolent energy. His long, flowing robe billowed behind him as he loomed over Mira, his full demonic form emanating an aura of ancient, unrelenting power.

  “As you command, my master,” Baphomet said, his voice low and rumbling, laced with the promise of destruction.

  Without another word, he turned and leapt from the tower’s window, the force of his departure shaking the very foundation. His form cut through the sky like a black comet, the battlefield below growing larger with each passing second as he charged headlong into the chaos, his ancient strength finally unleashed. The fight was far from over.