Damon understood.

He stood no chance, and he was fine with that. Even he could not cross several ranks and challenge a god.

As one climbed higher in class advancement, the gap between ranks did not merely widen, it became absolute. Power stopped scaling linearly and began to spike violently. That gap made victory impossible.

A third class would never defeat a seventh class.

That truth was written into the universe itself.

But Damon did not need to.

Lazarak could.

And from the look of it, Lazarak had arrived already furious.

This was the god who despised the world's endless, senseless cycles of conflict. The one who had rebelled alone and nearly succeeded. He had done so without killing a single person or god.

Now he stood before another god once more.

When Lazarak pulled on Seraph Null's chains, the air screamed.

Astral wind detonated outward as the massive god was yanked from the sky and slammed into the earth. The impact fractured the ground like glass. Entire buildings collapsed, reduced to rubble in an instant.

The Chained watched in stunned silence as their god was manhandled from the very beginning.

"Hehh… huah… bahha…"

Even so, Seraph Null laughed.

"How pitiful you are, Lazarak. All this talk of showing me my limits, yet you watched thousands die. That is why you are a failure."

Lazarak knew the god was trying to unbalance him before the battle truly began.

He stood unmoving in the vast crater Damon's earlier attack had carved into the city.

"If you're referring to the people in this district," Lazarak said calmly, "then I must disappoint you. I teleported them away before appearing here. Look around you, Prison God."

Seraph Null's wings shifted as he surveyed the city.

Something was wrong.

There were no women. No children. No elderly. No wounded. No civilians unable to fight.

Only those who lived by the sword remained.

"You evacuated everyone…"

Seraph Null muttered, his voice shaking the heavens.

Lazarak smiled faintly.

"I know my friend well enough to predict he would cause a massive expulsion. He does have a flair for the dramatic."

The chains composing Seraph Null's body ground together, radiating fury.

Lazarak turned his head slightly.

"Damon. I'll deal with him. You handle the rest."

Damon opened his mouth to protest, but Lazarak's smile stopped him. Darkness fluttered around Lazarak's form like living robes.

"Let me show you," Lazarak said softly, "my power. The power of a god."

He spread his arms and slowly raised them.

Something rose on the horizon.

No. Not something.

Darkness.

It surged upward in every direction, swallowing the sky as it climbed. When it reached the sun, the world was drowned in shadow. The day collapsed into an eclipse.

The sun had been nearing sunset, yet night fell instantly.

Seraph Null roared and surged skyward, climbing higher and higher. His wings churned the air, generating dust storms that spread for miles.

"I am the god of this realm, Lazarak," he thundered. "What I say is law. By my decree, it is day."

The words were not mere arrogance.

Reality obeyed.

The eclipsed sun vanished, only to rise again from the horizon, blazing at its zenith. Its light burned away the encroaching darkness.

Lazarak frowned slightly. A thin line of blood trickled from his nose, yet he remained standing.

Faith strengthened Lazarak, even if he was far from his full power.

Chains rattled violently.

"My followers," Seraph Null declared, "these infidels empower a traitor god who defies our creator, the Goddess of Doom. Kill them. Strip him of his false power. Slaughter them all."

The spell of awe shattered.

Damon raised his hand and incinerated the nearest Chained Knight where it stood.

"Advance on the Black Tower," he commanded. "Destroy his seat of power."

His voice carried through the battlefield. He lifted his charm and spoke again, his words echoing through every corner of the city.

"Advance to the Black Tower."

The sky flashed violently as darkness collided with a massive angelic form bound in chains. Clouds were torn apart. Winds screamed.

"Slaughter your way to the Black Tower," Damon roared. "Show this creature of the lower realm the power of the children of Aetherus."

Battle cries erupted.

Magic detonated. Steel clashed. The city drowned in war.

Anyone who was not one of them was the enemy. That was the only truth that mattered.

Abellona drove her spear through a Chained Knight's skull, crimson eyes blazing. Blood sprayed freely as fighters leapt between rooftops in superhuman clashes.

The upper sky belonged to the gods.

The lower sky and streets belonged to mortals.

Leona activated her Sovereign Mantle, lightning erupting from her body as she teleported in blinding flashes. Her sword carved arcs of destruction, leaving charred corpses in her wake.

Beside her, Wendy tore through enemies with her bone sword, crushing and ripping apart Chained Knights until broken bodies littered their path.

Damon gritted his teeth.

"The Black Tower. I have to reach the Black Tower."

The streets were chaotic. Blood flooded the ground. Buildings collapsed like dominos. The air filled with rot, smoke, and burning flesh.

He rolled aside as a corpse impaled by erupting metal spikes slammed into the ground, its eyes frozen open in death.

Damon slipped into the shadows, teleporting between alleys and rooftops, cutting down anything that blocked his path.

In one alley, skeletal ranks formed a siege line as the demon necromancer Kashi fought alongside a young elf from the Silver Glades. Old grudges were forgotten as they fought for survival.

Damon sprinted toward a wide road.

When he reached it, all he saw were corpses.

At the road's center, standing atop a mound of fresh dead, was a man holding a parasol.

"Ah," the man said pleasantly. "I've been looking for you. We have scores to settle."

The Wind Apostle.

Before Damon could respond, golden light descended beside him.

Evangeline stood there, clad in her Duskglass armor, Sovereign Mantle fully unleashed.

"Funny," she said coldly. "I was about to say the same thing."

Damon frowned at her.

She shook her head.

"Go. He's mine."

"He's fourth class," Damon muttered.

She stepped forward, sword lowering into a ready stance.

"Good," she said. "That makes him worth killing."

Damon clenched his jaw.

Her odds were terrible, but—

"I'll see you at the Black Tower."

Her gaze never left her opponent.

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