Back at Battlefield
"How do you do, current Maou Sirzechs-dono?"
A woman's voice broke the silence, smooth and confident, laced with venomous amusement. Her crimson eyes glimmered like rubies beneath the chandelier's light. Her beauty was haunting, but the malice behind her smile was unmistakable.
"The one descended from the blood of the previous Leviathan," Sirzechs Lucifer said evenly. His tone was calm but edged with wariness. "Katerea Leviathan. What is the meaning of this?"
Her name alone stirred bitter memories. When the old Four Maou perished and the new generation rose to power, not all devils had accepted the change. The remnants of the Old Maou Faction—those bound by blood, pride, and resentment—had resisted to their last breath. In the aftermath, their forces had been crushed and banished to the farthest, most desolate corners of the Underworld.
Now, before him stood their leader.
Katerea's lips curled into a defiant smirk. "The members of the Old Maou Faction have nearly all decided to cooperate with the Khaos Brigade."
Azazel, standing nearby with his usual nonchalance, chuckled softly. "So it's a feud between the new and old Maou sides that's finally gone full-scale. Devils really do love their internal politics."
Sirzechs's expression hardened. "Katerea, is it okay to interpret those words literally?"
Her smirk widened. "Of course. We're the ones orchestrating this attack."
Sirzechs exhaled, his tone turning grim. "A coup d'état, then."
The declaration echoed through the chamber like a thunderclap. The Old Maou Faction had risen again—and now, they had allied themselves with the terrorists of the Khaos Brigade.
"...Katerea," Sirzechs said quietly, "why go this far?"
Katerea's gaze sharpened. "Because we've reached a conclusion—one completely opposite to the purpose of this farce you call a peace meeting. Since God and the original Maou are long dead, this world must be reformed. The age of false peace must end."
Her words carried the certainty of a fanatic. Around her, faint traces of demonic energy flickered like ghostly flames.
Azazel tilted his head, watching her with a faint, sardonic smile. "And this so-called reformation involves blowing up the world? Has that snake, Ophis, really seen that far ahead?"
Katerea chuckled softly, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Ophis does not care for such matters. He is merely a symbol—the face of power. We'll use that power to destroy this world and rebuild it anew. When the dust settles, we will be the ones to govern the new order."
The implication made everyone's expressions darken.
If Azazel's earlier information was correct, the magicians rampaging outside were part of this very movement. Not only devils, but rebels among angels and fallen angels had joined hands in this madness.
"...So that's it," Sirzechs muttered. "A gathering of those who reject peace—angel, fallen, and devil alike. You wish to forge a new Earth where you sit above all." His crimson eyes glowed faintly. "And your mediator is Ophis—the Ouroboros Dragon."
The mention of the Infinite Dragon God sent a ripple through the room. A being even gods feared—said to surpass both the Red Dragon Emperor and White Dragon Emperor in might.
But Serafall, who stood beside her brother, stepped forward, her expression stricken. "Katerea-chan! Why are you doing this!?"
Katerea's smile faltered, replaced by cold hatred. "Serafall," she spat, her tone dripping venom, "you dare speak to me so shamelessly—you, who stole the position of Leviathan from me! I am the true descendant of the original Leviathan! The rightful Maou!"
"Katerea…" Serafall whispered softly, her heart aching.
"Don't pity me!" Katerea shouted. Her aura flared, shaking the chamber. "Today, I'll kill you and reclaim the title of Maou Leviathan! Then, Ophis will become the god of our new world. We'll construct the laws, the doctrines, and the order! Michael, Azazel, Sirzechs—your era ends here!"
The three leaders' faces turned grave. Even Michael's serene expression hardened at her words.
Then, a low laugh echoed through the chamber—rough and mocking.
"Ku…kukukuku…"
All eyes turned to Azazel, who was clutching his stomach, shoulders trembling with laughter.
"Azazel," Katerea hissed, glaring at him. "What's so funny?"
He straightened, his smirk infuriatingly casual. "Hahaha… you people seriously want to 'reform the world'? That's rich."
Katerea narrowed her eyes. "We are serious. The current world is rotten, and we will cleanse it."
Azazel's grin widened. "In decay? Is humanity foolish? The world ending? Please—things are doing fine nowadays."
He waved a hand dismissively. "You talk like every would-be messiah before their tragic downfall."
Katerea's face twisted in anger. "You mock us!? You, of all beings, who possess power yet waste it on complacency!"
Azazel shrugged. "Let me tell you something. Your 'dream' is an old story, Katerea. So predictable it's boring. 'Destroy the world, rebuild it, rule it"—it''s like the villain's line right before they die."
"Azazel!" she screamed, demonic energy exploding around her. The floor beneath her cracked from the pressure of her power.
"Sirzechs, Michael," Azazel said calmly, stepping forward. "I'll handle this one. Don't interfere."
Sirzechs frowned but nodded once. "Understood. But, Azazel… don't underestimate her."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Azazel replied, rolling his shoulders. His wings unfurled—twelve vast, obsidian feathers that swallowed the light around them.
Sirzechs gave a final warning. "Katerea, do you truly intend to continue this madness?"
Katerea smiled coldly. "That's correct, Sirzechs. You were a good Maou—but not the best. The old blood will always rise again. We will become the new rulers of the Underworld."
"...I see," Sirzechs murmured softly. "That's too bad."
Azazel raised his hand toward the window. "Then let's get this started."
~~~
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