The New Demon King

by kilomarski

This will be a cross over between High School DXD and Misfit of the Demon King Academy. The Story will follow the same path as DXD with alterations. At the moment I plan to only have Anos cross over but if I can find a way to transfer more characters over I will. In this Fanfic Anos will find himself in a new world with a fresh start and deciding on going back or to stay here.

41. Chapter 40

Chapter 40: The Darkest Day in the Underworld: Part Four Final: The Calvary

---

After Anos departed to Death's domain, Ophis turned her attention to the group surrounding her.

Their faces betrayed a myriad of questions, questions she had no desire to answer.

She silently wished Anos would return quickly and handle this himself.

Explaining his existence as a Demon King from another world had already been an uphill battle.

They were beyond skeptical, and Ophis couldn't blame them.

A few months ago, she wouldn't have entertained the idea either.

But she had seen Anos's memories, sparred with him countless times—and lost some of them.

Any doubts she might have harbored had long since vanished.

If only she had a way to share his memories with them, it would save her the headache of trying to explain to explain.

For now, she could only watch as the group processed the events that had just unfolded.

Anos had appeared out of nowhere, killed Grendel with Ascalon, resurrected Issei and Serafall after their deaths, and then battled something controlling their bodies.

Now, he sat cross-legged within a barrier, eyes closed, across from his pawn or whatever was controlling his pawn.

None of it made sense to Rias, Sona, or the others.

And to top it off, Ophis had just casually revealed that Anos was from another world—a claim both girls found utterly outlandish.

They desperately wanted to question Anos, but the barrier he had created was stopping them.

He wasn't responding, no matter how much they called out.

With no other option, their attention shifted to Ophis, who remained silent, her expression unreadable.

Sona, nervously spoke finally broke the silence. "Umm, Miss Rin—I mean, Miss Ophis," she stammered.

"Could you explain… well, everything you just said and what just happened? In detail?"

Ophis locked her purple eyes on Sona, who immediately regretted speaking. Staring into the gaze of the Dragon God felt like an eternity.

"No need for formalities. Either name is fine," Ophis said flatly. "But what specifically do you wish to know?"

Sona hesitated, realizing her question might have been too broad.

Her mind raced as she tried to identify the most important question amidst the chaos.

"Okay… umm… could you explain what just happened in here? That wasn't my sister, was it?"

Sona pointed at the barrier where Anos sat. Ophis nodded slightly. "Listen closely. I will not repeat myself."

Everyone fell silent, even the devil soldiers standing at a distance.

Though they were too far to hear normal conversation, but with a little magic Ophis's voice carried effortlessly, cutting through the tense air like a blade.

Ophis paused, weighing her options. "Should I explain the events leading up to this or stick to the recent developments?" she thought.

Finally, she turned to Sona. "You, devil with black hair and glasses."

Sona blinked in surprise and pointed to herself. "Me?"

"Yes. Would you prefer the short version or the long version?"

"Umm… the long version, I guess," Sona replied cautiously.

Ophis nodded and began. "A while ago, Anos resurrected a Fallen Angel named Mittelt after the red-haired devil and the black-haired devil over there killed her," she said, gesturing toward Rias and Akeno.

Akeno was unconscious on the ground, but Rias bristled at the description.

"My name is Rias," she said awkwardly. "And what does this have to do with—"

"The black-haired devil with glasses asked for the long version," Ophis interrupted, her tone impassive. "I know your name, Red Haired Devil. Do not interrupt."

Rias opened her mouth, then thought better of it and remained silent.

Ophis continued.

"During a sparring session between the Fallen and Anos, she damaged her soul. However, while training your peerages, her soul mended itself, which caught Anos's attention.

He took her to Ajuka, and together they discovered that both Anos and the Fallen had been experiencing visions—memories of the Mesopotamian pantheon."

Ophis's gaze swept over the group, her tone never wavering.

"These visions were linked to an entity named Death—a servant of some sort to Ereshkigal, an ancient goddess of the now gone deceased Mesopotamian Pantheon.

Death had fused a fragment of her soul with the Fallen, allowing her as time to control her body and possibly use her to increase her own power. Her goal is to absorb Anos's soul and increase her power."

She paused, letting her words sink in before gesturing toward the barrier.

"What you just witnessed was Death in control of the Fallen's body. The entities possessing your allies were her servants. Now, black-haired devil with glasses, does that answer your question?"

Sona's mind raced as she processed the deluge of information.

She felt more confused than before but managed a hesitant nod.

"Yes… thank you," she said quietly, though her thoughts betrayed her, "But this only raises more questions," she thought.

Rias, unable to contain herself, stepped forward.

"What does this mean for us? For Issei and Serafall?"

Ophis's blank expression shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing.

"That depends on Anos," she replied simply. "He went to resolve the issue. Trust him, for your sakes. Now, what is the next question?"

For a moment, the area was silent.

Then, Saji tentatively raised his hand, breaking the stillness.

"Umm… Ophis," he began, his voice hesitant as all eyes turned to him.

Under the combined weight of their gazes, he stammered, "You said Anos came from another world… why is he here?"

Ophis turned her sharp gaze to him. "Short or long story?"

Saji hesitated, glancing nervously at the others. "Umm… short story, I guess?"

"He came here by accident after dying," Ophis said flatly.

Her abrupt answer left the area in an awkward silence. Saji shifted uncomfortably. "Is… is that it?"

"You said short story," Ophis replied without emotion.

"Right, but could I get… more details?" Saji asked nervously, scratching the back of his head.

"Like?" Ophis asked, her tone clipped.

"How did he… you know, die I guess?" Saji ventured cautiously.

"He was stabbed by a sword," she replied matter-of-factly.

The area fell silent again, the tension palpable as everyone waited for more.

Finally, Saji spoke up, his voice cracking slightly, "Okay… but could you explain more? Like, why did he get stabbed?"

Ophis's eyes narrowed, her tone growing sharper. "You are asking for too many details. Would you like the long story?"

Saji flinched under her gaze and nodded furiously. "Yes, ma'am. Long story, please."

"You should have said that before," Ophis said, her tone laced with faint irritation. "Don't waste my time again."

"Yes, ma'am," Saji squeaked, standing rigidly at attention.

Satisfied, Ophis began her explanation.

"In Anos's world, he was known as the Demon King of Tyranny. He committed countless acts, some righteous and others not so much, all in the name of protecting his people—the demons—from humans.

After centuries of war, fueled by hatred and misunderstanding, he believed all humans were evil."

Her gaze swept over the group, her tone steady but cold.

"But that belief began to change when he met a true hero—Kanon. Unlike other humans, Kanon showed him that not all humans were consumed by hatred.

Kanon's actions and ideals transformed Anos into the man you know today."

The area hung on her every word as she continued, "Anos grew tired of war but knew that peace was impossible while he lived.

As long as he remained, the demons would fight for him, and the humans would fight to kill him, believing his death would save the world.

Realizing he was the catalyst for the endless cycle of hatred, Anos devised a plan to end it."

Ophis paused, her gaze flicking to Saji before continuing.

"With Kanon's help, and the aid of a god and a spirit, Anos expended his magic to divided his world into separate realms to stop the war and break the cycle of hatred.

As part of this plan, he sacrificed himself, intending to reincarnate 2,000 years later in his own world to ensure lasting peace."

Her tone softened slightly. "But instead of reincarnating in his world, he ended up here. And for the past 17 years, he has been trying to find a way back."

The area fell silent, the weight of Ophis's story settling heavily over everyone.

Rias frowned, her mind racing.

She had never seen Anos conducting any tests to find his world, but then she thought of her brother.

Anos was always at Ajuka's lab working on something… could those have been the times Anos was searching for his way home?

The realization sent a shiver through her.

Anos's calm demeanor, his patience, his strength—it all seemed even more remarkable in light of what he carried with him, a mission to return to a world that might not even exist anymore.

As the atmosphere settled and people grew more comfortable, the questions directed at Ophis became unrelenting.

She answered them all to the best of her abilities, though she wished they would stop.

This was the most talking she had done in her entire life and she loathed is all.

She found herself yearning for Anos's return, knowing he would handle this far better than she could.

Her sharp senses suddenly pulled her attention to the east.

Magic surged—large, potent, and unmistakable.

Ophis's gaze narrowed. The Bifrost? Why are the Norse here?

Before she could dwell on it, an immense, radiant formation of rainbow light descended, casting brilliant beams across the area.

In an instant, trillions of colorful transpositions materialized in the skies and ground, followed by thousands upon thousands of divine figures.

The gods of earth had arrived, not just from the Norse, but also the Greeks, Egyptians, Chinese, Celtic, and other pantheons.

The landscape and sky were soon filled with their presence, an endless wave of warriors, beasts, and divine entities covering every inch of land and air.

Their sheer numbers and overwhelming energy sent shivers through the devil army.

Ophis floated into the air, her gaze sweeping over the gathered forces.

She recognized the leaders instantly: Odin stood tall, his ravens and wolves flanking him as lightning flickered around Mjölnir held by Thor.

Zeus, his aura commanding and thunderbolt crackling in hand, was surrounded by Olympian deities.

Yulong, the Dragon King of the East, floated regally with his army of divine constructs.

Even the remnants of the Egyptian pantheon were present, led by Ra, flanked by Anubis and Horus in chariots pulled by spectral lions.

The devil soldiers froze, whispers of disbelief rippling through their ranks.

"What the heck is going on?" a soldier stammered. "Are those... gods? All of them?"

"Holy shit, is that Zeus? And his thunderbolt?"

"They're... they're armed to the teeth. It looks like they're here to fight."

Rias and Sona exchanged a tense glance.

They didn't need words to know what the other was thinking, Why are they here?

The sheer size and power of the divine armies were staggering, their presence oppressive even to experienced devils.

Ophis's voice was calm but cold. "Remain still, sister of Anos. I will ensure no harm comes to you."

She floated higher, positioning herself between the devil army and the divine host.

Her piercing gaze locked on Odin, Zeus, and Yulong at the forefront of the gods' forces.

"State your purpose here," she commanded, her voice sharp and resonating.

The gods murmured amongst themselves.

Ares stepped forward with a sneer, his sword resting against his shoulder. "A maid?" he mocked, laughter dripping with disdain.

"It seems we overestimated the devils if this is the best they can offer."

Zeus sighed, his expression unreadable.

Unlike Ares, he had no desire for this conflict but had been pressured into action for the sake of his pantheon's unity.

"Save your strength, Ares. This isn't worth the theatrics." He glanced at the devils briefly before his gaze returned to Ophis.

"Sirzechs and Ajuka are the main threat so save your strength."

Odin raised his hand, silencing the murmurs of his own forces.

His expression was grim as he spoke. "It's just one maid, and she doesn't seem like a challenge. We outnumber them; let's make this quick and push further into the devil home land."

Ares smirk widened as he stepped forward, his sword glinting with divine energy. "Consider this a warm-up, then father."

He brought his blade down on Ophis with an explosive strike, the ground beneath her feet shattering in a blinding flash of golden light.

The impact sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.

As the dust settled, Ares sneered, but his expression faltered. His blade was lodged atop Ophis's head, not even leaving a scratch.

"Huh?" he muttered, attempting to pull the sword back, but it wouldn't budge as she grabbed it.

Ophis's expression remained unbothered. "Annoying."

With a casual flick of her wrist, she shattered the divine blade into fragments and backhanded Ares.

The force snapped his neck, sending him flying backward, where he crashed at Zeus's feet.

Ares groaned as his neck twisted back into place, coughing up blood.

The gods fell silent, staring in shock at the maid who had nearly incapacitated Ares with ease.

Ophis's aura purple flared, the sheer intensity of her power suffocating.

Her calm, detached demeanor only amplified the fear spreading through the divine ranks.

"That's... Ophis," one of the gods whispered, their voice trembling. "What is she doing here?"

"She's supposed to be in the dimensional gap," another murmured, panic creeping into their tone. "Why is she protecting the devils?"

Odin stepped forward, raising his spear.

"We have the numbers," he declared, his voice firm but edged with doubt.

"Stay calm. We can still defeat her. Remember, it took the alliance of all factions to bring down the Heavenly Dragons."

Despite his rallying cry, doubt lingered in his eyes.

This was Ophis, the Infinite Dragon God.

No amount of preparation could have made them ready for this.

Ophis surveyed the army before her, calculating the odds.

She felt their fear and hesitation, but it didn't matter.

They had come to destroy the devils, and she wouldn't allow it, she had already failed one request from Anos and she would fail again.

This was Anos's home, a world he had grown to care for. That fact alone made her resolve absolute.

She opened her mouth, gathering power that rippled through the battlefield like an impending storm.

The gods stiffened as they raised barriers but many knew they wouldn't survive this initial attack, all doubts about her identity vanishing as they felt her energy swell to unimaginable levels.

Odin gritted his teeth, gripping his spear tighter forming the strongest barrier in his arsenal.

"Brace yourselves!" he shouted, his voice barely audible over the roar of power emanating from Ophis.

But just as quickly as her energy had surged, it dissipated.

Ophis smiled faintly to herself, lowering her power. "Fine, Anos. I'll let you take it from here."

The gods glanced at each other in confusion as the oppressive energy vanished, Ophis turned her gaze toward the where Anos sealed himself inside the barrier, a knowing look in her eyes. "You're just in time," she murmured.

---

A few moments earlier, within Ereshkigal's domain, the group stood in relative silence as the previous conversation between Anos and Ereshkigal.

The act had left her visibly shaken but resolute, a quiet determination replacing the overwhelming despair she had carried for so long.

Anos glanced at her, his expression calm but introspective. The weight of their time here was palpable.

It had been hours, twenty in fact—longer than he had intended.

His voice broke the silence, neutral but laced with subtle concern.

"I hope everyone is alright. But I trust Ophis was able to handle anything if something happened," he said, though Mittelt, standing close by, could sense the faint unease behind his composed demeanor.

Ereshkigal hesitated, her fingers fidgeting nervously as she spoke in a soft whisper. "Umm… time passes much faster here."

Anos turned to her, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. She avoided his gaze, her bangs falling to obscure her face.

In that moment, she resembled the shy goddess Gabriel had once described to him—a far cry from the broken figure he had first encountered.

"So," Ereshkigal continued, her voice barely audible, "what felt like hours here… was only minutes in the normal world. Every hour here is just a minute there. My father made it that way so it would make it easier to do my work."

The group nodded, relief evident on their faces and the unease building in Anos vanished.

Twenty hours spent in this domain equated to only twenty minutes in the underworld—a small reprieve, though not without risk.

"That's still enough time for something bad to happen," Anos remarked quietly, his tone serious.

Though the time discrepancy was comforting, it did little to fully ease his concerns.

Ereshkigal stepped forward, summoning a golden transportation circle that shimmered with ethereal light.

The intricate designs pulsed faintly, casting a warm glow over the group.

"This will return your souls to your bodies in the underworld," she said softly.

Her voice carried a new strength, though traces of her nervousness lingered.

Mittelt hesitated, her gaze fixed on Ereshkigal. "What about you?" she asked, concern evident in her tone.

Ereshkigal offered a small, hesitant smile. "I'll follow a few seconds later," she replied, her voice gentle. "This is my physical body so I can transport with you all at the same time."

Anos regarded her for a moment, his expression unreadable, before giving a single nod. "Don't take too long," he said simply.

As the golden light enveloped them, the group felt a strange sensation of weightlessness, as though their very essence was being lifted and guided by an unseen force.

Within moments, Anos, Mittelt, and the Clone of Death's souls returned to their respective bodies in the underworld.

The transition was seamless, yet the moment their consciousness reconnected with their physical forms, they could feel the tension in the air—an oppressive energy that hinted at a brewing conflict.

Anos sat up first, his crimson eyes immediately scanning his surroundings.

Mittelt suit, visibly shaken by the sudden shift back to reality.

The air was heavy, charged with an unfamiliar magic that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Something's wrong," Anos murmured, his tone low and dangerous.

His gaze turned toward the horizon, where faint flashes of a purple light hinted at a confrontation unfolding in the distance.

Mittelt frowned, "Is that Ophis?" she asked hesitantly.

Anos didn't answer immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes, extending his senses outward.

His expression darkened. "It's not just a Ophis," he said grimly. "It's an army of gods."

As if on cue, a golden flash appeared a short distance away, and Ereshkigal materialized before them.

Her arrival was graceful, her form radiating a newfound strength. Yet, her expression mirrored Anos's concern.

"I feel it too," she said softly, stepping closer. "The gods… they've come in force."

In the distance, Anos could feel Ophis's presence, her aura unmistakable even in its subdued state. Reaching out to her mentally, he reassured her.

"Don't worry, I'll handle this."

"Fine, Anos. I'll let you take it from here." Ophis's voice sounded dry, but Anos could feel the relief behind her words.

"Hope I'm not too late," he said.

"You're just in time," she murmured softly, a rare note of trust in her tone.

Before departing, Anos turned to Sona and Rias, materializing the souls of Serafall and Issei into glowing spheres of vibrant energy.

The two women looked at him with confusion, questions clearly etched on their faces. But Anos cut them off before they could speak.

"I'll answer all your questions when I get back. Just… keep these safe for now."

Both girls looked down shocked, clutching the precious souls tightly as if afraid they'd disappear.

Without another word, Anos turned and prepared to leave, only to sense the approach of Ereshkigal.

He glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. "You're staying behind, right?"

Ereshkigal, shy as ever, fidgeted. "I… well… umm…" On the inside, Death groaned in frustration, "Dammit...Softie."

"Let me handle this," Death's voice echoed inside. "It was my idea anyway."

Ereshkigal nodded mentally as she and Death with, "I would like to see what these intruders want."

"Alright," Anos replied, amused as the two swapped control.

Death brushed Ereshkigal's bangs back with a confidence her counterpart could never muster, the act highlighting the stark contrast in their personalities.

She smirked, her golden eye gleaming with playful malice.

"They've come into our kingdom uninvited. I want to see why," Death said, her smirk sharpening into something sadistic.

Inside, Ereshkigal hesitated. She wasn't used to this kind of confrontation, but she knew Death's intentions weren't malicious.

"You're not doing this to pick a fight, are you?" she asked cautiously.

Death's chuckle was soft, almost reassuring. "A fight? Only if they push me to it. Don't worry, Softie. I'll handle this."

Ereshkigal sighed, resigning herself to Death's control. As aggressive as her counterpart could be, she trusted her.

She could feel Death's intent—not cruel, not reckless, but protective she didn't want Ereshkigal to dirt her hands.

And despite her brashness, Death's actions were guided by an unshakable purpose: to protect their domain, to protect them both.

"Just don't go too far," Ereshkigal murmured.

"Relax. You'll thank me later."

Ereshkigal didn't resist as Death took the reins fully.

She let the confidence flow through her, the sheer difference between their personalities feeling almost invigorating.

Death's assertiveness was a shield, something Ereshkigal lacked but could rely on when needed.

Before Anos could react, Death grabbed his shoulder. "I'm getting impatient lets go."

A ripple of dark energy surrounded them, and in an instant, they appeared beside Ophis.

Ophis turned to Anos, a dry smirk gracing her lips.

She could feel it—his power had grown tremendously, even though he was suppressing it.

Her gaze flicked to the gods gathered before them, their tension palpable.

Anos's sharp eyes scanned the scene, noting how the gods were on guard.

Earlier, he had felt Ophis's power rising, preparing for a fight, but she had stopped the moment he arrived from Death's domain.

"Now… what to do?" he mused, eyeing the assembled army of gods. But before he could act, Death spoke.

"The hell do all of you want?" she said bluntly, her voice dripping with irritation.

Anos frowned, wishing Ereshkigal would now switch back. "You don't have permission to be here. Get lost."

The gods exchanged looks, some confused, others suspicious.

"Who is that?" one god asked.

"Not sure," another muttered. "But she feels… weak. Shouldn't be a problem."

This dismissive attitude was shared by the weaker gods, who focused on Ophis as the immediate threat.

Which made sense of the three in front of them Ophis was a bigger threat than Ereshkigal but Ophis herself wasn't the major threat, but they didn't know that.

However, the stronger gods felt the power radiating from Death, subtle but immense.

Among them, Odin froze, his expression darkening as recognition washed over him. It should have been impossible. She was dead. Every report said so.

"Mimir, are you seeing this?" Odin asked his trusted advisor.

The reply came quickly, laced with urgency. "Golden eight-pointed star eyes… only a fool wouldn't recognize her."

Thor, standing nearby, looked confused. "Huh.. what you two talking about...spit it out already. Who is she?"

Odin's voice was grim. "Ahh yes you weren't born yet before she sealed in the underworld? That is—"

"Ereshkigal," Mimir interrupted, his voice low. "The Primordial Goddess of the underworld."

"Primordial...I don't get it so she was the first one down here," Mimir shook his head, "Much more than that she built the entire Underworld."

Thor's jaw tightened as he felt the magnitude of her hidden power.

Meanwhile, Death grew frustrated, her patience thinning.

On the inside, Ereshkigal covered her face in embarrassment.

"What are you doing?" she asked Death quietly.

"They're trespassing," Death replied, her tone dry.

"I'm just checking their visas. And if they don't have one…" A sadistic smirk curled her lips.

"Don't go overboard," Ereshkigal murmured again.

But even as she said it, she could feel Death's sincerity beneath the sarcasm.

Death wasn't out to harm them unnecessarily.

She wanted to protect their home, and she wasn't going to let them get push around again.

Ereshkigal nodded, fully understanding Death's feelings. "Alright. do as you wish."

Death smirked outwardly, as she got Ereshkigal's permission to do as she wished...within reason of course. "Good. Now, let's deal with these fools."

Anos, watching from the side, chose not to intervene for the moment.

He doubted anything would go wrong, but he would be there if it did. For now, he let Death have her way.

Death crossed her arms, her voice sharp and louder. "I'm not talking to myself. Speak up!"

The gods shifted uncomfortably, some now visibly nervous.

The weaker gods and the ones unfamiliar of who she was, still didn't understand her significance, but those who did were already debating whether to flee or fight.

Anos watched, a faint smirk on his face. This was going to be… entertaining.

Hera frowned, her gaze fixed on the girl, she did recognize her and she had doubts this girl was Ereshkigal because Ereshkigal was dead along side her pantheon.

Doubt gnawed at her thoughts.

She had witnessed the fall of the Mesopotamian Pantheon herself, and Hades had never once mentioned sensing Ereshkigal's presence in the Underworld. Could this truly be her?

The skepticism wasn't Hera's alone.

Among the gathered gods, only a few had ever seen the goddess of the Underworld or felt her power firsthand.

The rest could only speculate.

While some could sense an overwhelming strength radiating from the girl, others couldn't feel a thing, adding to their uncertainty.

Death smirked, a cocky grin curling her lips as her heterochromia eyes gleamed with amusement.

"Some of you seem to be holding your heads pretty high, thinking you're invincible just because you call yourselves gods," she said.

Internally, she reached out to Ereshkigal. "Can I use it?"

"Sure. but who do plan to copy," came the goddess's hesitant reply, "Only the strongest of course."

Hera's patience snapped. "Listen here, child. We are here to eliminate the devils. Move, or you will be moved," she declared with an air of finality.

Death's eye twitched, "Child..."

Hera turned toward the gathered Olympians and barked, "All forces advance. The Thirteen will handle Ophis."

As her words rang out, the armies of Olympus began their march.

Odin, standing alongside Baldur and Thor, observed Death with narrowed eyes. "What's the plan?" Baldur asked, his tone wary.

"You, Loki, Thor, and his sons will deal with Ereshkigal," Odin replied firmly.

Loki frowned, his skepticism clear. "Surely you jest. That girl can't possibly warrant this much attention. Even if she is this Primordial whats it or whatever."

"I do not jest," Odin said sharply. "Summon the World Serpent. He will aid me in fighting Ophis."

Loki clicked his tongue in annoyance but obeyed the All-Father's orders, preparing his forces for the assault.

Meanwhile, the Asgardian soldiers surged forward with war cries that shook the ground.

In the ranks of the Egyptian Pantheon, Ra turned to Anubis. "What are the odds of victory?" he asked, his voice calm but serious.

"Against Ophis or Ereshkigal?" Anubis asked grimly.

"Both," Ra replied.

"Against Ophis? Slim, even with our numbers. Against Ereshkigal?" Anubis hesitated before adding, "I have faced her before and lost. I can hold her off for a time, but victory… is unlikely."

Ra nodded solemnly. "Then I will fight alongside Odin against Ophis," he said before commanding the Egyptian armies to charge.

As more gods and their forces surged forward, Death's heterochromia eyes gleamed with an ominous light, her golden star eye spinning slowly.

"Time to deport all you vermin," she said with a chilling smile.

She extended her hand, summoning her weapon, Kur Eresh.

A portion of her shadow separated from her body, forming a staff-like spear adorned with intricate Mesopotamian motifs.

The weapon radiated divine golden and black energy, symbolizing the delicate balance between life and death.

Its blade-like tip, shaped like an inverted crescent moon with jagged edges, gleamed with an otherworldly light.

The shaft was composed of obsidian black veined with glowing cuneiform inscriptions, pulsating faintly with energy.

Near the base of the spearhead sat a radiant sphere resembling an eye, representing the very essence of the Underworld.

Death twirled the spear effortlessly, her aura shifting to something far more menacing as it erupted like a volcano. Among the gods, reactions ranged from confusion to terror.

Odin's one eye widened in recognition. "Kur Eresh," he murmured.

"The weapon of the Mesopotamian Underworld… This changes everything."

Mimir's voice trembled as he spoke. "The records spoke of this weapon. They said its wielder held dominion over life and death itself. I thought it lost when the Pantheon fell… yet here it is."

"Explain...whats it significance," Loki demanded summoning the world serpent, "To long of a list but what ever you do don't get cut...not even a scratch," said Mimir

Anubis clenched his fists, his voice low. "I remember that spear. Its power is unmatched in this domain. She truly is Ereshkigal."

Ra's normally calm demeanor faltered as he stared at the spear. "A weapon of such magnitude… no ordinary goddess could wield it."

With her weapon in hand, Death smiled deeply and spoke a single command. "Arise."

Her shadow stretched to the right, from it emerged a single shadow figure that resembled Anos, the copy was the one her sin created when it was able to copy Anos soul.

This ability, Kur Eresh's Shadow Army, allowed Death to read and replicate the very essence of a soul she observes.

The closer her understanding of the soul, the more identical the copies would be to the originals.

Unlike when her Sin had created a weak clone of Anos, the copy created by Death was nearly perfect due to Death's mastery of the technique.

Under normal circumstances she wouldn't have been able to read Anos soul but thanks to the events previously she was able to read and replicate some techniques but they were still weak imitations of the original.

However, there other limitations to the ability like: its effectiveness depended on the availability of magic.

Within the Underworld, Death's power was virtually limitless, allowing her to maintain dozens of copies or one powerful copy indefinitely.

But outside this domain, the ability would be severely restricted, because Ereshkigal nearly unlimited pool of magic came from the underworld if she was removed her power would drop.

As the shadow of Anos rose, the battlefield fell into silence.

The gods froze in their charge, staring in in confusion at the Shadow, some didn't know who it was but others who had good aberration skills could tell that it resembled the other person who arrived with her, nearly perfectly.

"What are you waiting for?" Death taunted, her voice dripping with mockery. "Didn't you come here to invade my domain? Or were you expecting an easier fight?"

This ability, Kur Eresh's Shadow Army, allowed Death to read and replicate the very essence of a soul she observed.

The closer her understanding of the soul, the more identical the copies would be to the originals.

Unlike when her Sin had created a weak clone of Anos, the shadow replica created by Death was nearly perfect due to her mastery of the technique.

However, the ability came with a limitation: its effectiveness depended on the availability of magic.

Within the Underworld, Death's power was virtually limitless, allowing her to maintain the army indefinitely. But outside this domain, the ability would be severely restricted, as her access to magic would diminish drastically.

As the shadow began to rise, tendrils of dark energy coiled around the forming figure, solidifying until the towering silhouette became unmistakable.

The air grew heavy, and the ground quivered beneath its feet. Cloaked in a long black coat, its glowing crimson eyes radiated power and destruction.

To many, it was an unfamiliar face, but for a few gods, recognition crept in like a chill down their spines.

For a moment, the gods stood frozen, their charge halted as they stared at the figure in confusion.

Many didn't immediately recognize the significance, but those with sharp observational skills began to piece things together.

Baldur furrowed his brow, shifting his gaze between the shadow and the devil standing behind Death next to Ophis with an amused look on his face. "Doesn't that shadow… look like that man back there?"

Thor followed Baldur's gaze, his grip tightening on Mjölnir. "By Odin's beard... it looks just like him."

"That's Anos Gremory," Mimir murmured, confusion evident in his tone.

"The strongest of the 'Rookie Five' in Devil society. A prodigy or sorts—but why create a copy of him?"

Odin's eyes narrowed. "Why would Death replicate him of all people? He's just a devil who recently became an Ultimate Class. Surely, someone else here would be more worthy of replication."

The gods' murmurs grew louder as the realization spread.

Loki, watching quietly, finally spoke up. "He earned his promotion after holding off Kokabiel and defeating Parisa, during the Kuoh incident. If I'm remembering the report Amaterasu sent us" he muttered.

"But that hardly makes him special enough for this."

Baldur crossed his arms. "It's impressive, sure, but plenty of devils have done things like that. Why replicate someone who's only recently made Ultimate Class? Is their something we're missing."

Anubis folded his arms, deep in thought.

"So, he fought off some high-ranking fallen angels and earned a promotion.

That is a big deal of someone his age. But that's not nearly enough to explain why Erishkghal would create a shadow of him, especially when she could have replicated one of us."

Thor crossed his arms, confusion building.

"It doesn't add up. We're standing here facing Ophis and Ereshkigal, and this is the best she could do to counter us? A devil still wet behind the ears?"

But Odin wasn't so sure. His gaze remained locked on the shadow.

The way it radiated destructive magic, the calm, commanding stance—it wasn't just a replica of a random prodigy.

It felt familiar, like the being he had seen in fragmented visions of the future. "There's something more at play," he muttered under his breath.

Zeus, standing nearby, turned to Apollo. "Is this the being from your prophecies? The shadow that would bring death and ruin?"

Apollo tilted his head, examining the figure.

"It's similar, but the prophecies never reveal everything. but there could be a connection we haven't seen yet between the Shadow and this one in front of us."

Mimir stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"He's known as a genius among the young devils. Maybe Death values created him not for his power but for his strength. But still, it doesn't make sense to clone him when the original is standing right there."

Ra, standing nearby, shook his head. "The prophecies warned of a shadow that would destroy the world. How does this devil, or Ereshkigal, fit into that narrative? We're missing something crucial."

The gods fell into silence again, their confusion increasing as they realized how little they truly understood the situation.

Death's mocking voice shattered their contemplation. "What are you waiting for?" she taunted, her voice dripping with disdain and mockery.

"Didn't you come here to invade my domain? Now all I see is a bunch of cowards?"

---

Anos watched from the back, his arms crossed as he observed the unfolding chaos.

He had no intention of stepping in just yet. For now, he was content to let Ereshkigal—specifically Death—handle things.

She seemed to be trying to scare them into leaving which seemed to working for now.

His attention shifted briefly to the shadow replica she had created of him.

It wasn't nearly as powerful as himself, but it carried enough destructive energy to unsettle the gods, putting around a Ultimate Class God.

Death turned slightly, sending him a smirk along with a mental message. "What do you think? Impressed?"

Anos tilted his head. Does she expect me to praise her or something, Anos thought? "Impressive," he replied mentally. "But it's still lacking. It can't compare to the original."

Death chuckled, satisfaction evident. "It doesn't need to compare. But you should know—this is the strongest soul I've ever copied."

Anos didn't respond further, but his eyes flickered with quiet approval.

Meanwhile, Death twirled her spear again, her smirk deepening as the gods remained hesitant.

Odin, still watching closely, muttered, "This situation is starting to turn into more than we bargained for."

Ra nodded, his gaze shifting to the Shadow. "First Ophis, then Ereshkigal, and now the very thing we came here to destroy is standing in front of us. It's powerful, yes, but not strong enough to wipe us out."

He glanced at Zeus, his tone grave. "Our mission remains the same: destroy the Shadow."

A nervous voice from the back of the godly ranks broke the silence. "It's weak now. If we strike quickly, we can destroy it before it reaches full power."

The statement hung in the air, solidifying their resolve.

The gods turned their collective attention to the Shadow, knowing they'd have to break through Ophis and Death first.

With their numbers—over a trillion strong—they believed they could overwhelm the two and complete their mission.

But even with their confidence, doubts lingered. They had overlooked something, but what? And would it be their undoing?

Death's smirk widened, and Anos, watching silently, couldn't help but wonder how long they would hesitate—or if Death truly could handle them all on her own.

If things got dicey, he would step in, but for now, he waited still.

Anos quietly observing the gods' shifting expressions more closely.

Their attention was no longer on the devils they had come to destroy, nor on Ophis, whose overwhelming presence had made some of them reconsider the fight altogether.

Even Death, who had unnerved them moments ago, had faded into the background.

Their eyes were glued to the shadow—a near-perfect replica of himself that Death had created.

Then it clicked.

From what Anos remembered of the prophecies whispered among gods, a shadow was foretold to rise and bring destruction to the world.

He knew it couldn't be him—he had no desire to destroy this world.

Though foreign to him at first, after seventeen years it had become his home.

That alone assured him that the prophecy didn't refer to him.

But judging by the gods' faces, it was clear they believed the this Shadow created by Death was the Shadow they were looking for.

Anos addressed Ophis without shifting his gaze from the battlefield. "Is it me, or do they seem more interested in that shadow than us?"

"Correction," Ophis replied, her purple eyes gleaming as she side-eyed him.

"By the way you're suppressing your aura, they don't even perceive you as a threat. You never had their attention."

Her voice remained as cold as ever, but there was a flicker of amusement in her gaze.

"And between you and me, that shadow isn't all that impressive. It's not even as strong as you were when you only had twenty percent of your power and definitely not now."

A smirk tugged at Anos's lips. "Oh, you wound me. But you make it sound like you can sense my increase in power."

A dry smile crossed her face as her eyes glowed. "Yet again you underestimate me, I can sense you have regained your full power."

"Down, girl," Anos teased, his smirk widening. "We can't spar here."

Ophis's smirk faded into a bored expression. "Fine. But we'll play later."

Anos chuckled, then focused his gaze on the gods again. "As you said, they seem more preoccupied with that clone," finished Ophis

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully but was interrupted as a crimson magic circle formed nearby.

Hades and Thanatos stepped through the glowing portal, their sudden appearance diverting the gods' attention.

Behind them, thousands of grim reapers and monstrous creatures appeared, partially encircling the devils.

"Hades! Your timing is impeccable!" Ares shouted, relief evident in his voice.

Several other Olympian gods cheered, believing the tide had just turned in their favor.

But not all of them were as confident.

Ra raised an eyebrow. "What is Hades doing here? He's supposed to be dealing with the fallen angels."

Anubis nodded, suspicion clouding his gaze. "This is strange. Either he's already taken care of the fallen, or something else is going on."

Odin stroked his beard, his sharp eyes narrowing as he watched Hades closely.

The uneasy feeling in his gut reminded him of the countless times Loki had pulled similar tricks. And now, that same feeling was gnawing at him.

Death narrowed her eyes at Hades. "What the hell are you looking at?" she asked, her voice laced with disdain.

But instead of treachery, what she felt from Hades was, reverence.

"I am delighted to see you in good health, Your Majesty," Hades said, bowing deeply.

Thanatos dropped to one knee beside him, and the entire army of grim reapers followed suit, their black cloaks rippling as they knelt in unison.

The gods froze, their confidence unraveling as they processed the scene.

Zeus's face twisted in disbelief. "What the bloody hell are you doing, Hades?" he roared. "You bow to no one—not even me!"

Before Hades could respond, another teleportation circle appeared, and a lone figure emerged.

Loki's eyes widened, nearly bulging from their sockets.

"By Odin's beard… Hela?" His daughter stood before him, her dark cloak billowing as she surveyed the battlefield with a teasing smirk.

"Agreed," Thor growled, stepping forward. "This is no time for your games, Hela."

But Hela ignored them, turning to Death instead.

She lowered her head in a respectful bow.

"It pleases me to see you alive, Master. I always knew you weren't gone. Our connection never broke, and some of the souls from my domain always vanished into yours. I knew you had to be alive."

From within her body, Erishkgal's voice trembled as she reached out to Death. "What is happening? Why are Hades and Hela bowing to us?"

"Oh, right," Death replied casually.

"You wouldn't know. After you went to sleep, I sought ways to gain more power. Some pantheons tried to establish themselves in our underworld, but I made them pay a price. Those who accepted became my servants. I treated it as an investment—when the time came, I'd have an army strong enough to fight for me."

Erishkgal was silent for a moment. "I see."

Death chuckled. "You don't sound mad."

"I'm not. I'm just… sad. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have had to go to such lengths."

"Don't worry, softie. I'm over it. Thanks to you."

Outside, Death looked down at Hela, who stood defensively with magic swirling in her hands. "Now, Master," Hela said, her voice calm but ready. "What are your orders?"

Hades rose slowly, his gaze locked on Death. "Yes, Master. What would you have us do?"

---

As the tension in the Underworld continued to build, Rias and Sona, along with their peerages, cautiously made their way toward the front of the devil army.

Their expressions were a mix of awe, confusion, and dread as they took in the surreal scene unfolding before them.

Nothing that had happened since Anos arrived made any sense.

First, the revelation that he was some legendary Demon King from another world, and now, an entire army of gods had descended upon the Underworld, seemingly ready to invade.

The sight was breathtaking in its own way.

Rias had never imagined she would live to see so many gods assembled in one place, their divine auras blanketing the battlefield like a suffocating fog.

Beside her, Sona's calculating mind worked in overdrive as she silently observed the gods, her eyes narrowing as she tried to anticipate their next move.

"They're really here," murmured Kiba, standing protectively near Rias.

His gaze flicked from god to god, gauging their power levels. "All these gods… it's like a myth come to life."

Tsubaki, Sona's queen, nodded but kept her composure. "I wonder how many of us will live to tell the story."

Saji gulped, clutching his Sacred Gear tightly. "Honestly, I'd rather not be part of that story if it involves fighting them."

"They're not invincible," Kiba said firmly, though even he wasn't sure how much confidence he could put behind his words. "But still..."

"True," murmured Reya Kusaka, one of Sona's bishops. "but they're gods, not stray devils."

The sense of wonder among the group was quickly replaced by the crushing weight of reality.

The gods weren't here to put on a show—they were here to destroy.

But as the fear crept in, Ophis's earlier words echoed in their minds, offering a sliver of comfort.

Ophis wasn't just any ally—she was one of the strongest beings in existence.

Having someone like her say she was here to protect them was reassuring, even if the overwhelming power of the enemy made it hard to fully believe.

Still, the doubts Rias and Sona had once held about Anos being the man Ophis claimed him to be had been erased when he returned with the souls of Issei and Serafall.

His calm, confident presence had a way of dissolving their worries.

"It's strange," Sona said softly. "I feel like I should be panicking right now. But knowing Anos is here, I don't."

Rias nodded. "Same. If anyone else had made all these claims about being some legendary Demon King, I would have doubted them. But with Anos, it just… fits."

The stalemate between the devils and the gods continued, the tension thick enough to suffocate them.

The gods seemed hesitant, their aggression simmering beneath the surface but not yet boiling over.

As the peerages stood waiting, wondering what would break the silence, a familiar voice called out Rias's name.

She turned her gaze upward and saw Gabriel descending from the sky, her radiant wings glowing softly as she led a contingent of angels toward them.

Among them was Dulio, flying at her side, his expression serious but calm.

The devils made way for them as they landed gracefully.

Gabriel walked toward Rias, her serene gaze sweeping over the battlefield before settling on the crimson-haired devil.

Rias quickly gave her a brief but detailed summary of everything that had happened up until this point. Gabriel listened attentively, her expression never wavering.

"I see," Gabriel said softly, her gaze shifting toward the army of gods. "So that's what's happening."

For Rias and Sona, there was something off about Gabriel's reaction.

She wasn't surprised, at least not in the way they had expected. There was shock, yes, but it was as though she had already known most of what was being revealed.

Rias's eyes narrowed. "Lady Gabriel, did you already know about my brother's true identity?"

Gabriel let out a soft sigh, clearly deciding there was no point in hiding it any longer. "Yes, I knew."

Rias frowned, her tone sharpening. "For how long? Who else knew?"

Gabriel gave her an apologetic look. "I understand your frustration, but this isn't the time to discuss—"

"No," Rias interrupted, stepping closer. "You don't get to brush this off. Who else knew?"

Before Gabriel could respond, Sona turned her attention to Mittelt, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the exchange.

"What about you, Mittelt?" Sona asked, her sharp gaze locking onto the fallen angel. "Did you know?"

Mittelt hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly before letting out a sigh. "Yeah, I knew," she admitted. "For a while now."

Rias's eyes widened. "And you didn't think to tell us?"

Mittelt crossed her arms, to defend herself. "Look, it wasn't my secret to tell, what you getting mad at me for take it up with Anos?"

"I will but that's not the point!" Rias snapped, but Sona gently touched her arm to calm her down.

Mittelt sighed again. "I get it. You're mad. But Anos revealing himself this way wasn't part of his plan I bet."

Before they could continue the argument, Gabriel stepped in, raising a hand. "Let's save this for later, alright? We're standing on a battlefield, and that army of gods isn't going to wait for us to finish our discussion."

Reluctantly, Rias and Sona let the matter drop, though their frustration was far from resolved.

As they turned their attention back to the battlefield, they saw Anos stepping forward. He paused briefly next to Erishkgal, whispering something to her that made her smirk before continuing toward the front lines.

---

A few seconds earlier, Anos silently observed the chaos before him.

The gods' hostility simmered, but he could sense their confusion and hesitation growing as their gaze repeatedly shifted toward him and the Shadow Death had created.

He exhaled softly, brushing off the tension as he stepped forward.

Ophis's eyes followed him closely, her gaze sharp but approving.

He stopped beside Death, who was still grinning mischievously.

"I'll take it from here," Anos said calmly.

Death pouted but relented with a dramatic sigh.

"I wasn't done playing yet, but fine. It was starting to get boring anyway."

She snapped her fingers, switching back with Erishkgal.

As the goddess brushed her bangs back into place, she nervously glanced at the massive crowd of gods. Her hand trembled slightly.

"That's… a lot of people," she murmured. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"

Anos gently patted her head. "I'll be fine."

He motioned for her to stand by Ophis, but Erishkgal instinctively grabbed his sleeve. Her grip was tight, her fear palpable.

Hela, observing her master's unusual behavior, tilted her head. "Master, what is the relationship between you and this devil?" she asked, her gaze flicking curiously between the two.

Erishkgal nervously shuffled behind Anos. "Oh… umm… he's my protector. Please don't be mean to him," she mumbled shyly.

Hella blinked, momentarily stunned by the sudden change in character.

"This is adorable," she thought. "Very well," she said aloud, bowing her head slightly. "Guardian of my master, please protect her well."

Anos gave her a small nod. "That's the idea."

With that, he gently pried Erishkgal's hand from his sleeve and took another step forward.

Standing at the forefront, Anos turned to address the gods.

His voice, though soft, carried weight and authority, resonating not just through the battlefield but in their very minds.

"Gods of Earth," he began, his tone calm yet commanding.

"Leave the Underworld. Your invasion ends here. Return to your realms, your families, and live another day. The devils are not your enemies. And neither am I."

His words sent ripples through the assembled gods. Many exchanged confused glances, as if questioning whether they had all heard him correctly.

Ra narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, you're not our enemy?"

He gestured toward the Shadow clone. "She created a copy of you, devil. That's no accident she could have copied someone more powerful. Yet she chose you...so she must know something we don't."

Anos tilted his head slightly, contemplating his next words, "Hey Erishkgal do you mind doing something about the Clone," she nodded and reabsorbed them back into her shadow.

He needed to give them the final push toward retreating, but subtlety wasn't going to work. Not with them on edge.

"Because," Anos said, his voice unwavering and very much neutral, "I could kill you all with the snap of my fingers," it was a empty threat but Anos was trying to make a point.

For a moment, there was silence—then, laughter erupted from the ranks of the gods.

Ares doubled over, clutching his stomach. "A devil, even one as talented as you, threatening gods? Don't make me laugh!"

Odin raised an eyebrow but remained silent, observing Anos carefully.

Ra frowned. "You're a mere devil who barely earned his spot as an Ultimate Class. Do you really think we'll take you seriously?"

Anos didn't flinch.

Instead, he nodded, as if expecting their reaction in their eyes he was just an Ultimate Class but it was time to prove them wrong. "I suppose you need proof.…oh well," he finished with a shrug.

Anos then snapped his fingers.

A pulse of overwhelming magic rippled through the battlefield, shaking the ground and making the very air vibrate.

Above them, a large city-sized crimson magic circle materialized causing the the wind to swirl in response, casting the entire area in an ominous red glow above them.

From the circle, a massive black sun began its slow descent, crackling with destructive energy that pulsed like the heartbeat of a dying star.

The gods' mocking laughter died instantly, replaced by gasps of horror.

The oppressive heat from the black sun bore down on them, making even the most battle-hardened warriors sweat profusely.

Weapons clattered to the ground as some gods stumbled backward in fear.

"This… this power…" Baldur whispered, his voice trembling. "It's monstrous."

Ra's stared up in disbelief as he shielded his eyes from the blinding glow. "This has to be some trick...an illusion spell it has to be?"

---

From the back, Rias's eyes widened in shock. She had seen Anos perform incredible feats before, but this—this was on an entirely different scale.

"Is this really Anos's true power?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Sona adjusted her glasses with trembling fingers. "I figured he was strong based on what Ophis said, but… this is just absurd."

Kiba, standing protectively near Asia, tightened his grip on his sword. "Haha this is just out of this world."

Asia clasped her hands together in silent prayer, her heart pounding in her chest. "It's terrifying… but at the same time, I feel safe knowing he's on our side."

Mittelt whistled, trying to hide her growing anxiety. "You know, I thought I'd seen everything, but this guy just keeps doing crazy shit. I'm both impressed and terrified."

---

Suddenly, a crack formed in the sky, splitting wider and wider until an enormous beam of white magic shot out, obliterating the black sun before it could fully manifest.

The magic dissipated into the atmosphere, leaving behind a swirling vortex of residual energy.

Anos looked up, a smirk forming on his lips. "So, he finally arrives."

From the crack in the sky, Shiva descended slowly, holding his divine sword with casual grace.

The gods below erupted into cheers at the sight of him, their hope reignited.

They knew Shiva's power wasn't just on a different level—it was leagues beyond most of the gods present.

Erishkgal clung to Anos arm, her gaze fixed on the newcomer.

She didn't know who he was, but she could feel the immense power radiating from him.

"He's strong," she whispered, her voice laced with concern. "Anos you can handle him, right?"

Anos glanced at Shiva in amazement. "I wouldn't lose."

Erishkgal nodded but couldn't shake the unease settling in her chest.

As Shiva floated above the battlefield, his third eye remained closed, but within it, he saw visions of countless timelines.

In each, Shadows emerged—some resembling Anos, others far more sinister.

The Shadows weren't limited to one it seemed their were variants to each of them all dangerous and capable of being a significant threat.

When Shiva's gaze settled on Anos, he realized that Anos was now just of a few Shadow he had been searching for, but and yet with this intervention timelines were still branching so their were still more threats.

But what disturbed him most wasn't the Shadow or Anos in this instance—it was the fact that there were more of them in other timelines.

More than one Shadow, he thought grimly. If they're multiplying, then they must be coming from somewhere and I am sure Anos must know of where they may be coming from.

Lowering his sword slightly, Shiva sighed. "I need answers," he muttered. "But first, I need to stop this before it spirals further."

He locked eyes with Anos, who stood calm and composed amidst the chaos.

"This isn't over," Shiva said aloud, his voice carrying across the battlefield. "We will talk in a moment."

Anos's smirk deepened. "Sure."

Shiva exhaled a heavy sigh, his mind racing through the countless visions that had flooded his third eye.

He had seen his death at Anos's hands, but that timeline had diverged, signaling that fate itself had been altered.

Shiva rubbed his temples.

The branching timelines were becoming more erratic, unstable, and overwhelming to interpret.

Anos wasn't just masking his presence as he first thought— but he was someone who could manipulate time, defy fate, or perhaps even change history itself.

The evidence was clear in the way new possibilities opened every second just by Anos standing there.

Timelines diverged, split, and doubled, as though the future itself couldn't predict Anos's next move.

"How can a devil have such mastery over time?" Shiva wondered, struggling to piece together the puzzle.

Perhaps Anos had already altered history in some capacity, and these unstable timelines were residual echoes of his previous interventions.

Or perhaps the worst was yet to come.

Either way, Shiva understood one thing: Anos Gremory wasn't a threat they could solve through brute force.

He glanced at Anos one last time, wondering if this devil could be the protector the Biblical God had foretold before his death.

Is it you, Anos? Shiva thought grimly.

Turning his attention to the gathered gods below, Shiva's gaze darkened as he released another sigh—this one filled with frustration.

If he hadn't arrived when he did, they would have charged in blind and triggered their own deaths.

From what he saw in the fractured timelines, Anos wouldn't have had a choice but to kill them all.

Driven by fear and the prophecy of the Shadow, the gods' actions would have led to their collective demise.

Shiva had seen multiple outcomes: timelines where Anos wiped them out in one overwhelming attack, others where he revived them only to kill them again until they begged for mercy, and some where they simply ceased to exist.

The sheer scale of destruction that could have been unleashed was staggering.

"Seems none of you could wait for the Divine Council meeting," Shiva said aloud, his tone dripping with irritation as he descended toward the gathered gods.

Hera clenched her fists, her voice rising in anger. "This is all your fault, Shiva! We could have won! If we had combined our strength, we could have crushed the devils—especially with your help. But you betrayed us at the last minute."

"I didn't betray you," Shiva replied coldly. "I'm saving you from yourselves. You just don't know it yet."

Ares, seething, stepped forward. "We had the advantage! You saw the size of our army! Ophis, Erishkgal, and one devil prodigy wouldn't have stood a chance if we'd all attacked together. But you robbed us of victory!"

Ra scoffed. "You've always been unpredictable, Shiva, but siding with a devil? What game are you playing?"

Shiva remained calm, though his patience was thinning.

"I'm not playing a game. I'm preventing your extinction. If you'd attacked, Anos would have had no choice but to kill you all. None of you would have survived."

Hera crossed her arms, her glare unwavering. "You don't know that."

"I've seen it," Shiva snapped, his golden aura briefly flaring. "In multiple timelines, Anos obliterated you without even breaking a sweat. You're lucky I intervened."

Poseidon stepped forward, his trident glowing faintly. "You speak as if this devil is untouchable. He's still young, still mortal. He's just one step above the other devils."

Shiva narrowed his eyes. "You've mistaken youth for weakness, do you not remember the attack he was prepared to unleash upon you. That devil you're mocking? He's more dangerous than any of you realize."

Baldur frowned, stepping closer. "Then explain to us why, Shiva. Why is he so important that you'd abandon your fellow gods?"

Shiva didn't answer directly.

Instead, he turned, raised his divine sword high, and swung it downward with enough force to send a shockwave through the earth.

A massive gorge tore across the battlefield, separating the gods from the devils. The ground rumbled beneath their feet as the chasm expanded, creating an unbridgeable divide.

The gods instinctively stepped back, startled by the sheer power behind the strike.

Shiva's golden aura flared, appearing like a massive star hovering above the battlefield.

His presence became suffocating, forcing even the most battle-hardened gods to stagger under its weight.

"Fine," Shiva said coldly. "Those of you who still wish to fight—cross this gorge, and I will cut you down myself."

Silence followed. The gods exchanged uneasy glances. The sheer magnitude of Shiva's aura was overwhelming, and his words left no room for misinterpretation.

"Cowards," Hera muttered under her breath, but even she didn't dare move forward.

Shiva scanned the crowd, his gaze lingering on those who had been the most vocal.

When none of them stepped forward, he nodded. "Good. Now go home and wait for the Divine Council meeting."

The gods began to disperse reluctantly, their frustration evident in their expressions.

Hera muttered curses under her breath, while Ares punched the ground in frustration.

Some of the younger gods whispered among themselves, casting wary glances toward Anos as they retreated.

As Shiva turned away from the departing gods, he paused.

"One last thing," he said, his voice cutting through the tense air like a blade. "I know what you tried to do to the angels. You failed."

The gods stopped in their tracks, their faces paling.

For a moment, none of them dared to breathe. Finally, they resumed their retreat, though their steps were slower, heavier, and filled with dread.

Shiva exhaled softly, relieved that a catastrophe had been averted—for now.

His feet touched the ground as he sheathed his sword, its metallic hum marking the conclusion of this intense encounter.

The tension in the air began to ease, but the atmosphere wasn't completely free of unease, especially as the gods begrudgingly retreated.

Shiva's gaze shifted toward the reason he had come to the Underworld in the first place: Anos Gremory.

The young devil stood calmly, watching the gods depart as though none of this was unexpected.

Shiva's lips pressed into a thin line as he began walking toward him.

Anos gently removed Erishkgal's hand from his sleeve. She didn't protest—she understood he was putting distance between them to protect her.

"I'll be back," Anos reassured her.

"Okay, I'll be here," she replied softly, watching him with quiet concern as he approached Shiva.

Ophis observed them silently, her gaze flickering between the two.

The air wasn't nearly as suffocating as it had been during the gods' confrontation, but it still carried an edge of uncertainty.

"So, you're the Shadow everyone fears," Shiva said, tilting his head slightly.

"I have to admit, you're not as terrifying in person as you are in my visions."

"For the strongest god in the world, you certainly live up to your reputation, considering you obliterated my attack with ease," Anos replied, his tone polite but pointed.

Shiva chuckled softly. "If I hadn't intervened, there's no telling how far things would have escalated."

Anos shrugged. "It was never my intention to kill needlessly."

Shiva's amusement faded, replaced by a serious expression as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. "That's good to hear. But I must ask—who and what are you, really?"

"That's a long story," Anos replied.

"And right now, my home has been attacked. There are things I need to take care of first, so a detailed discussion will have to wait. But I can say this with certainty: I've been here for seventeen years, and I am not a threat to this world. You have my word."

Shiva studied him for a moment, his fingers loosening their grip on his sword.

He could tell Anos was barely using a fraction of his power during the earlier display.

Engaging him in battle wouldn't end well, and Shiva was ready to believe the devil's sincerity—at least for now.

"I see," Shiva finally said. "Then I'll take you at your word for now, Anos Gremory. But I expect that detailed discussion soon."

"You'll have it," Anos promised.

Shiva nodded, satisfied. "When you've revived Serafall, reach out to my wife. She will arrange the meeting." He paused briefly, offering Anos one last knowing look. "Until next time."

With that, Shiva unsheathed his sword, slicing open a rift in space before stepping through it and vanishing.

As Anos stepped to leave, his thoughts drifted to Shiva's parting words: "When you revive Serafall, reach out to my wife."

The precision of that statement gnawed at him. How did Shiva know he was about to revive Serafall?

Anos narrowed his eyes slightly. Shiva could see the future.

"That explains a lot," Anos thought, recalling the way Shiva had stepped in at the perfect moment to prevent the gods from being wiped out.

The branching timelines, Shiva's knowledge of events that hadn't happened yet—it all clicked into place. Shiva had seen possible futures involving him, Serafall, and more.

"Interesting," Anos murmured. "I'll have to talk to him about this when we meet again."

For now, though, he focused on the present—on the friends he had saved and the enemies he had avoided making today.

But he knew this wasn't the end of the story. Far from it.

---

Anos then continued toward the devil army.

Issei's and Serafall's bodies lay waiting for him, with Erishkgal and Ophis quietly following close behind.

He could feel their eyes on him—along with the unspoken questions swirling in their minds—but he chose to focus on the task at hand.

Rias and Sona approached him, their expressions a mixture of awe, confusion, and relief.

"What's with the look?" Anos asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rias and Sona exchanged glances before sighing. "We have a lot of questions," Rias admitted.

Anos nodded toward the two souls they carried. "I can answer them later. Right now, let's bring back Issei and Serafall."

Both girls hesitated briefly, then lowered their gazes to the souls in their hands.

As much as they wanted answers, they knew this was more important.

Following Anos, they stopped near Issei's body—the one containing Ddraig's source.

Anos placed his hand on Issei's body, extracting Ddraig's essence.

He also noticed something after interacting with Issei's body, Sloth was no more, and after a short conversation with Ddraig, he confirmed that he destroyed him.

After that Anos turned his attention to Rias, "Rias, give me his soul."

Rias stepped forward and handed him Issei's soul, her fingers trembling slightly.

Anos materialized another source, gently placing Issei's soul inside.

The source glowed a dark blue before merging with Ddraig's.

As the spell activated, Issei's body twitched slightly before floating in suspended animation.

Meanwhile, inside Issei's subconscious, the reincarnated devil stood in darkness, his surroundings eerily quiet. "Where am I?" he murmured, rubbing his head.

"Still alive," a deep voice echoed, causing Issei to spin around.

There, standing before him, was a man with crimson hair, golden eyes, and a powerful build.

"Wait… Ddraig?" Issei blinked in confusion. "You… you look different. What happened?"

Ddraig smirked, crossing his arms. "It's good to see you, partner."

"But wait—are we dead?" Issei asked, his mind racing. "Did I drag you down here with me?"

Ddraig let out a hearty laugh. "No, you didn't drag me anywhere. And we're not dead."

His tone softened, a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. "You're being brought back, thanks to Anos ."

Issei's eyes widened as he realized what Ddraig meant. "Anos… he brought me back?"

Ddraig nodded. "Yeah, you've got good people watching out for you, partner."

Before Issei could respond, a bright light enveloped him, and the next thing he knew, he was surrounded by familiar faces.

Rias, Asia, Kiba, and Gasper hovered over him, their eyes filled with relief.

"Hey guys," Issei said, his voice cracking slightly. "Why the long faces?"

Asia burst into tears, burying her face in his chest. "We thought we lost you!"

Gasper sniffled, clinging to Issei's arm. "We were so scared, Issei!"

Rias wiped her tears, though her voice trembled with emotion. "You idiot. Don't you ever do that to us again."

Issei smiled, rubbing their heads gently.

"I'm sorry. But I'm back now." His gaze softened as he looked up at Anos. "I don't know how to thank you."

Anos simply shook his head. "Just promise to keep making my sister happy. That's all I ask."

Issei looked down at her, gently stroking her hair. "I will," he promised. "But where are Akeno, Xenovia, and Irina?"

"They're resting," Anos explained. "They'll wake up soon."

---

Anos left them to their reunion and approached Serafall's body.

Sona was kneeling beside her, clutching her sister's soul tightly. Her hands were shaking.

"Don't worry," Anos said softly, kneeling beside her. "I promise there won't be any hiccups this time."

Sona nodded, tears streaming down her face as she handed him Serafall's soul.

Anos examined Serafall's body, his expression darkening briefly as he remembered the state he had found her in.

Her broken form had filled him with an overwhelming rage, but he had made sure her new body would be stronger, more resilient.

No one would ever harm her like that again. Carefully, he placed her soul into the new vessel.

As Anos worked to merge the energies needed to revive Serafall, the entire battlefield felt quieter, more focused.

The air was thick with anticipation, and though Sona was trying to remain calm, her trembling hands betrayed her emotions.

She stood by her sister's side, eyes locked on Anos as he knelt over Serafall's body.

Meanwhile, Serafall floated within a space of pure darkness, her mind replaying her final moments.

But instead of fear or despair, her thoughts were calm—until the lingering regrets she had buried for years came bubbling to the surface.

She traced her fingers across the darkness as if writing invisible memories into the air.

"I did what I had to," she whispered to herself. "I protected So-tan, and that's all that matters."

But as she repeated those words, her voice trembled.

A single tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another.

"Why am I crying?" she whispered, her throat tightening. "I had everything I could've wanted. I ended a civil war, had a loving family, an adorable little sister, and a successful TV show. My fans adored me."

She choked back a sob as another image flashed through her mind—Anos.

His face lingered there, unshakable.

She tried to convince herself it was nothing, but her heart clenched painfully.

"I'm happy for So-tan," she said, repeating the words like a mantra.

"She deserves him. I'm sure they'll live happily together."

But no matter how much she tried, the tears wouldn't stop.

She fell to her knees in the darkness, her sobs echoing around her.

"This is my hell, isn't it? Cursed to long for someone who was never meant to be mine. A fitting punishment for loving my sister's fiancé."

Her voice wavered as she shut her eyes tightly.

"I should've told him. I should've been honest before all of this. But now it's too late."

The silence around her suddenly shifted.

A dim light began to break through the darkness, and as her vision adjusted, she saw two figures hovering above her: Anos and Sona. For a moment, her mind played tricks on her.

"I see… so this is my hell's way of tormenting me."

Her resolve hardened. "But I won't let it. Not before I take control of my fate one last time."

With a burst of determination, she lunged forward, grabbing Anos by the face and pressing her lips against his.

The kiss was deep, filled with longing and all the emotions she had buried for years.

As she pulled back, a sad but satisfied smile crossed her face.

"Now I can pass on with no regrets," she whispered, closing her eyes.

A few seconds passed in silence. But instead of fading away, she heard a familiar voice.

"Sister, what the hell was that?"

Her eyes snapped open, panic flashing across her face. "Damn it. I'm not dead, am I?"

---

Epilogue 1: The Uncertain Future of Gods and Devils

Parvati paced around Shiva's chambers, her footsteps creating faint indentations in the polished floor as anxiety gnawed at her.

Her heart raced, and every fiber of her being screamed that she should have gone with him.

It had only been a few minutes since Shiva had left, but those minutes stretched endlessly, filled with a dread she couldn't shake.

Her husband was one of the most powerful gods in existence—she knew that. But the visions he had shared with her before leaving made her feel as if she were teetering on the edge of disaster.

The future had become unpredictable, and Parvati hated it.

What made her unease worse was the fact that Shiva's survival was tied to her own fate in ways most would never understand.

She wasn't just a goddess of fertility and devotion—she was also a political target.

Shiva's enemies, particularly Indra, the King of the Devas, had always loomed in the background, waiting for a moment of weakness.

If Shiva were to fall, she knew Indra wouldn't waste a second before striking. Some factions would try to kill her outright to weaken Shiva's legacy.

Others would propose marrying her off in a calculated political move.

The tension in her muscles worsened at the thought of Indra.

He had taken part of their army to assist the angels after Shiva had warned him that a battle between the angels and the Shinto pantheon was imminent.

Parvati hadn't been there to witness their conversation, but she knew Indra well enough to understand that he wasn't doing this out of kindness or moral duty.

Indra cared little for the angels' fate—he cared about power and influence.

If Shiva was gone, who would be left to stop Indra from expanding his rule unchecked?

Parvati stopped pacing and pressed her hand against the wall, trying to calm her breathing.

The weight of her thoughts pressed down on her like an avalanche. Come back safely, she thought, her prayers desperate and silent.

A ripple in the air interrupted her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned toward the swirling rift opening in the middle of the room.

The moment Shiva stepped through, unharmed, her legs almost gave out from the relief that washed over her.

She didn't hesitate—she sprinted toward him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders.

"You're okay!" she exclaimed, tears threatening to fall. But as soon as she pulled back, her expression hardened into worry.

"Are you sure you're not hurt? Do you need healing? Servant girl, bring a—"

Shiva chuckled softly and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently stopping her.

"I am fine, my love," he said, his warm smile easing her fears. He wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb. "I promise you, not a scratch."

Parvati let out a shaky breath, still scanning him from head to toe as if she didn't fully believe him. "You were gone longer than expected."

"The situation was… complex," Shiva admitted, un-summoning his sword and armor.

The divine glow of his protective enchantments dimmed, leaving him in his simple robes. "But it's over—for now."

Parvati's hands lingered on his arm, her gaze softening but still searching. "So, did you encounter him? The Shadow from the prophecies?"

"Yes." Shiva's expression darkened slightly as he thought back to the confrontation. "His name is Anos Gremory."

Parvati tilted her head, trying to place the name. "Anos Gremory? The name sounds familiar."

"He's the second-born son of the House of Gremory," Shiva explained. "The prodigy among the so-called Rookie Five in devil society."

"Oh yes, I remember hearing about him," Parvati said thoughtfully. "But how can a devil child wield such power that even gods fear him?"

"That," Shiva said with a sigh, "is the mystery we're now facing. He shouldn't be this powerful. By all accounts, he's still young—barely past his teenage years in devil terms. But he's far beyond what anyone, even I, expected."

Parvati frowned. "So what did you do? Did you try to defeat him?"

"No," Shiva replied, shaking his head. "I could have tried, but it wouldn't have been the right decision." He looked out the window, his gaze distant. "He promised to contact me soon. And I believed him."

Parvati's brows furrowed in confusion. "You let him go?"

Shiva turned back to her, his expression calm but resolute.

"Yes. He may be powerful, but he didn't strike me as a villain. In fact, I doubt that I could defeat him even if I tried."

Her breath hitched. "You don't think you could beat him?"

Shiva smiled faintly, his eyes softening as he cupped her cheek.

"He's different, Parvati. I've seen many powerful beings in my time, but Anos Gremory is something else entirely. He wields more than power—he defies fate itself. Even my third eye struggled to predict his next move. And yet, he chose diplomacy over destruction. That tells me something important."

Parvati leaned into his touch, her fear slowly giving way to understanding. "You think he's someone we can trust?"

"For now, yes," Shiva said.

"But we'll tread carefully. His power is immense, and his motives aren't fully clear. But if he wanted to destroy us, he would have done so already."

She nodded slowly, her fingers intertwining with his. "Then we'll prepare for whatever comes next—together."

Shiva pulled her into a gentle embrace, resting his chin atop her head.

"Together," he echoed. "And if Indra or anyone else tries to take advantage of this chaos, they'll have to face both of us."

Parvati smiled against his chest, her tension finally melting away. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As they stood in the quiet of Shiva's chambers, the storm of uncertainty seemed to settle, if only for a moment.

They both knew that the world they had known was changing rapidly, and new challenges would emerge. But for now, they had survived this crisis.

Hope glimmered faintly in the distance, and Parvati clung to that hope, knowing that as long as Shiva was by her side, they could face whatever the future held.

---

Epilogue 2: Unwanted Welcomed Support

Rizevim was seething. His carefully laid plans had taken a massive hit. His secret project—the child—had vanished into the desert, and thanks to Crom Cruach's rampage, the base was in chaos.

The walls were cracked, equipment lay in ruins, and worst of all, the protective barriers shielding their hidden location were on the verge of collapse.

If those barriers fell, the devils would find them, and everything he had built would come crashing down.

To make matters worse, he didn't have the manpower to deal with it all.

He couldn't spare a team to search for the runaway project without jeopardizing the base's security. He rubbed his temples, muttering curses under his breath. "If that dragon ever revives, I'm going to—"

"You seem to be in a bind," a smooth, feminine voice interrupted, her tone filled with smug amusement.

Rizevim stiffened, his heart skipping a beat. He turned slowly, already dreading what he would see.

Sure enough, stepping through a portal of swirling dark magic was her.

Her long, flowing black hair cascaded over her shoulders, shimmering like the shadows that danced around her.

Her dark purple eyes glimmered with ancient magic, and her royal-themed attire was adorned with intricate designs that symbolized nobility and power.

The high collar of her cloak framed her sharp features, and atop her head sat a crown—a symbol of twisted authority.

Rizevim sighed heavily, his irritation barely contained. "Avos Dilhevia.," he muttered. "Just what I needed right now."

Avos smirked, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

"Don't look so happy to see me," she teased, stepping forward as her eyes scanned the wreckage.

"I came out of concern. Our connection was cut off, and it took me some time to figure out how to cross universes again."

"Wonderful," Rizevim said sarcastically. "We're saved."

Avos ignored his tone, her gaze continuing to wander. "Looks like you've had a rough day."

Rizevim clenched his jaw. "Crom Cruach," he muttered bitterly. "He went on a rampage. Destroyed half the base. We're hanging by a thread."

Avos smirked again. "Typical dragon behavior. But no matter."

She snapped her fingers, and a portal opened behind her, releasing a stream of soldiers clad in gleaming black armor.

They marched forward in perfect formation, their presence suffocating the air with menace.

Rizevim raised an eyebrow. "You brought an army?"

"You're welcome," Avos said with a false sweetness that made his skin crawl.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I don't suppose you brought a manual on how to deal with an escaped side project, too?"

Avos chuckled softly. "Oh, your precious project ran away? How unfortunate." She feigned concern, though her tone was dripping with indifference.

"Very," Rizevim muttered under his breath. "I'm thrilled you find this amusing."

Avos turned her attention to the portal behind her. "Darling, could you come here for a moment?"

Rizevim's eyebrow twitched. Oh, great. What now?

A man stepped through the portal, his armor clinking faintly as he moved.

He was tall and well-built, white hair and tired silver eyes that carried the weight of countless battles.

His blue and silver armor gleamed faintly, and a powerful golden sword rested at his hip.

"Yes, your majesty," he said with a sigh, his voice flat and exhausted.

"Oh, come now," Avos cooed, placing a hand on his chest. "Can't you be a little more enthusiastic?"

The man gently removed her hand. "Just tell me what you need."

Rizevim snorted. "Looks like I'm not the only one thrilled to see you."

Avos shot him a sharp glare, but her smile quickly returned as she addressed the man.

"We need to retrieve something. A child. She can't be far. Find her and bring her back to me."

The man nodded. "Understood."

"No need to call me 'majesty,' darling. We are married, after all."

The man's expression hardened. "I married Misha, not Avos Dilhevia."

Avos's smile vanished, replaced by a dark scowl. "You wound me," she hissed. "Forget about seeing them again if you keep that up."

The man immediately dropped to one knee, lowering his head. "Forgive me. I misspoke."

Avos turned away with a satisfied huff, though her eyes still gleamed with malice. "Get going, darling. And be quick about it."

The man stood and turned to Rizevim. "Which direction did she go?"

Rizevim pointed toward the desert. "That way. She couldn't have gotten far."

Without another word, the man began walking toward the exit of the barrier. Avos's voice followed him.

"Make sure to hurry back. You know they miss you if you're gone too long."

The man didn't respond, disappearing into the distance.

Rizevim crossed his arms, glaring at Avos. "Well, that was dramatic."

Avos turned to him with a neutral expression. "Anything else?"

"No," Rizevim said through gritted teeth. "Thanks to your help, I can focus on stabilizing the barriers and fixing the base."

"Good," Avos said, her tone suddenly sharp. "Any further delays will cause problems for my plans. Don't let that happen."

Before she could leave, she gave him one last twisted smile. "You owe me, Rizevim."

"Of course," he said, forcing a polite tone.

But the moment she stepped through the portal and it closed behind her, his expression darkened.

"You won't be around long enough for me to repay that debt."

A demon soldier approached and saluted. "Her majesty left me behind to assist in any way necessary."

"Good. Have your soldiers begin rebuilding the base and securing the perimeter."

The soldier saluted again and began organizing his troops.

The scientist from earlier approached cautiously, his eyes wide with fear. "Lord Rizevim, who was that woman?"

Rizevim's lips curled into a twisted smile. "She's the key to my ambitions. But once I've achieved everything I want…"

His eyes gleamed with malice. "She'll be discarded like the rest."

---

Epilogue 3: A Hero's Final Act

Kanon stepped beyond the barrier and was greeted by the vast emptiness of the desert stretching endlessly in every direction.

The wind howled, kicking up sand that stung his face and erased any sign of the footprints he had been following.

He stared down at the quickly vanishing tracks, his heart sinking.

Where do I even begin?

The desert felt as endless as the regret that had consumed him for centuries.

His once-pristine armor was scratched and dented, the blue and silver tarnished with the weight of battles long fought.

His cloak was torn at the edges, fluttering weakly in the wind, much like the flicker of his resolve.

He clutched the hilt of his sword for balance, feeling the weight of its burden pressing down on him.

"What am I even doing anymore?" he whispered to himself, his voice cracking. He took another step forward, but it felt heavier than the last.

"I was a hero once, but now…" He looked down at his trembling hands, their once-steady grip now uncertain. "I've become something worse than how Anos was described."

The memories came flooding back—villages burning, soldiers screaming, and the faces of those he couldn't save.

No, chose not to save. He had justified it all as duty, but the weight of those choices had never truly left him. Even after two thousand years, the echoes of the dying still haunted him.

"At this point, I've lived up to the title of Demon King of Tyranny more than Anos ever did," he admitted bitterly, clenching his fists.

The wind howled around him as if mocking his confession.

But then, a memory surfaced—a small hand tugging at his cloak, a little girl's laughter filling his ears.

He saw her bright smile and heard her voice calling him "Papa." His eyes stung as the vision of his daughter faded, replaced by the empty desert. His trembling stopped as he steeled himself.

"For you," he whispered, his voice stronger now.

"I'll continue to be the monster, so please, just wait for me, sweetheart. Just a little longer."

Kanon didn't know how long he had been walking. His armor felt heavier with each step, his boots sinking into the sand.

He wasn't even sure if he was heading in the right direction, but he pushed forward, driven by a sense of duty—or perhaps desperation.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he sensed something—a faint yet powerful magic signature pulsing in the distance, "Anos is that you," Kanon thought as he made his way to the familiar magic.

He followed it, quickening his pace as the presence grew stronger.

His heart pounded, and just as he crested a dune, he saw something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

At first, there was nothing but the shifting sands.

Then, a hand broke through the surface, twitching weakly.

Kanon sprinted forward, his boots kicking up sand behind him.

As he approached, a small figure crawled out of the dunes—a little girl, covered in dirt and scratches, her body frail and trembling.

She stumbled to her feet, swaying unsteadily as if she had been wandering the desert for days.

"That's her," Kanon whispered, his throat tightening, "But why do I sense Anos magic from her...but actually its just similar not exactly his."

"She's just a child…" She looked no older than his daughter had been when he last saw her.

His chest ached, but something else gnawed at him—something familiar. As he stepped closer, he felt it. The magic radiating from her wasn't just powerful—it was eerily to Anos.

"Anos," he murmured, his breath hitching. "That's his magic." Even after two millennia, he could never forget the feel of Anos's power. But why would it be lingering on a child like this?

He ran the rest of the way, his heart thundering in his chest as he grabbed her shoulder. She stopped, turning her head to look at him.

Her eyes were hollow.

Kanon felt his breath catch.

There was no fear, no anger, no curiosity—just an emptiness that sent a chill down his spine.

It wasn't the blank stare of someone shy or cautious. It was the gaze of someone who had seen too much and felt too little.

He knelt before her, his voice soft. "Hey, are you hurt?"

The girl didn't answer. She tilted her head slightly, as if his words were a foreign language. Kanon's eyes scanned her fragile frame.

She was skin and bones, her tiny arms covered in scars and bruises. He wondered how she had survived this long.

Gently, he placed his hands on her shoulders and cast healing magic.

A soft glow enveloped her, and her wounds slowly began to disappear.

But her eyes remained the same—hollow, unfeeling.

The girl blinked once, then turned and began walking away as if nothing had happened.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Kanon called, standing up and grabbing her shoulder again.

She didn't respond or even look back. She simply kept facing forward, determined to walk in whatever direction she had chosen.

Kanon's hand trembled as he held her. His mind screamed at him to follow his orders—to take her back to the base and complete the mission.

But as he stared at her frail figure, something inside him broke. He saw his own daughter's face superimposed over hers, and the thought of handing this child over to people who had clearly mistreated her made him sick.

How many years had it been since he last held his daughter?

He couldn't even remember. All he had left was a worn sketch he had drawn the last time he saw her.

His fingers brushed over the sketch in his pocket, and his resolve hardened.

"They haven't taken good care of you, have they?" he whispered, his voice filled with guilt. The girl didn't answer, but her silence was enough. He knew what she had endured—starvation, neglect, and whatever horrors had left her eyes so empty.

He knelt down again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I was supposed to be a hero. I was supposed to save people like you. But I've failed so many times…" His vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. "I won't fail you."

The girl still didn't respond, but something in her posture shifted. She wasn't pulling away from him anymore.

Kanon stood and gently took her hand. "You want to go that way?"

He nodded toward the direction she had been heading. "Okay. We'll go together."

He didn't know where this path would lead, but he hoped they would find someone—anyone—who could take her in.

Someone who could give her a life far away from the people who had hurt her.

"This will be my final act as a hero," he whispered, squeezing her hand gently. "Just this one last time."

As they walked across the endless desert, Kanon felt the weight of his past bearing down on him.

But for the first time in centuries, he also felt a glimmer of hope. He had found someone to save.

And maybe, just maybe, saving her would be enough to redeem him.

---

End Chapter