Kang Woo and Makima stood together in the silence that followed, watching the car disappear down the oddly pristine streets—streets that, moments ago, had been torn apart by cosmic forces. Everything looked calm now. Deceptively so.
Makima turned her eyes to him. "…Should I leave too?" she asked, voice low. "I might get in your way."
Kang Woo sat down right there on the empty street, elbows resting on his knees. "Do you want to?"
Makima shook her head slowly, stepping beside him.
"No. Not at all. I want to be here. And I guarantee whatever's about to show up… it's gonna rewrite everything I thought I knew ."
She gave him a teasing smirk—sharp, but layered with something buried.
"And if you're planning to die again, I'll just drag you back from Hell myself. Chain you up. Maybe even give you a dog collar. Would suit you."
Kang Woo blinked, casting Makima a slow side-eye—half amused, half exasperated.
She was being tsundere again. But it wasn't fake. It never was.
He had changed her life—flipped it 180 degrees from what it once was.
"If your old self saw you like this," he muttered, "she'd probably mock it. Maybe even be disgusted."
Makima didn't deny it. She smiled instead.
"On the contrary, Kang Woo… before I met you, all I had was my job. My obsession with the Chainsaw Devil. That's all I was. But after meeting you…"
She sat down beside him, knees folding neatly, back straight.
"…every day became something different. I've never been bored since. And—I already confessed my love to you. Remember?"
Her voice dipped.
"I've never said that to anyone before."
Kang Woo remained silent. Just let the moment hang.
Makima kept her eyes forward, then added quietly: "So. Will you tell me now? What you really are?"
She turned, searching his expression. "You've never really said it outright."
Kang Woo shrugged.
"I'd rather hear your guess, Makima. After all… you've claimed my Commandment as your own. That should've given you some insight."
Makima smirked, tapping her chin with one finger.
"Well… for starters, you're definitely not from Earth. That's a hundred percent confirmed. You brag about being an alien every other day."
Kang Woo gave a vague hum. "Mhm."
"But—" she continued, voice narrowing slightly, "—I have this very strong feeling that you're also from here. Somehow. It's like… you're alien, sure, but not completely foreign. Like a returnee."
Kang Woo gave a small, ambiguous nod.
Makima's tone deepened, her gaze sharpening.
"And when I accessed the subspace Mikhail made—the one tied to the Commandment of Piety… I saw something."
"I saw you standing in an ocean. An army stretching endlessly—like it covered the whole planet. They obeyed you. Like your will was gravity. Kang Woo . You used to lead something massive ."
Kang Woo was about to reply—his lips parted, breath stilled—but the moment fractured.
The Eye of Mikhail, dormant on the back of his left palm, snapped open—its red slit wide with urgency.
"Master," the eye spoke, floating free and rotating to face him, "I have devised a method to seal The Red. I will act as the sacrificial eye and return him to the tower where he was once imprisoned."
Makima raised an eyebrow, amused. " Mikhail actually came back to you," she teased. "Or maybe he just hates me. That eyeball always looks at me like I'm a curse in need of deletion."
Kang Woo ignored the playful jab, standing slowly as his expression shifted to stone.
"I'm going to kill Dis," he said. "And I'll make sure he stays dead this time."
His eyes didn't leave the horizon.
"Stay with Makima," he ordered the Eye. "No one on this planet can keep their sanity after seeing him. Not unless they're shielded. Create the highest level Zaiphon barrier—but don't focus on physical defense. Focus it all on preserving sanity."
The Eye of Mikhail floated, whirred softly, and hovered toward Makima, golden symbols flaring into concentric patterns of energy. A radiant, prismatic shield began forming around them both—threads of Zaiiphon lacing the air like sacred glass.
But before it could finish, Makima reached out—grabbing the edge of Kang Woo's coat with trembling fingers.
"Kang Woo," she said quietly, "can I help in any way? Because I think… you're more nervous now ."
Kang Woo looked back. "I'm more nervous," he admitted, "that if I die, I'll be leaving you all behind with Big Red. And no one else can fend him off."
"He's not like Lucifero. Dis is… a being of absurd dimensional scale. A high-dimensional entity that reached godhood long ago.."
Makima said nothing—but her grip didn't let go.
Then, from Kang Woo's body, black goo began to seep and bubble—like molten tar spilling from his shadow. It pooled unnaturally, defying gravity, slithering upward into a humanoid form. A perfect silhouette of Kang Woo—but wrong. Its eyes weren't his. Black sclera. Gray pupils. A void in the shape of a man. The Black King.
Makima's grip finally released. Her expression darkened, her voice low, sharp with memory.
"You," she said. "I saw you. In the commandment subspace… mocking me. Telling me to die."
The Black King didn't meet her gaze. Didn't even acknowledge her hatred. His attention was on Kang Woo—and only Kang Woo.
"No regrets, right… Anos Voldigoad?" the Black King murmured, smiling faintly. "After all… I'll make sure you're the one who fucks it all up with what I'm about to unleash."
Kang Woo exhaled coldly, stepping forward without hesitation. "Let's get this over with. I don't like dragging things out."
The Black King chuckled, the sound hollow and ancient. "This failed world… this pitiful dimension… will be your grave. O' mighty Demon King of Tyranny."
And he snapped his fingers. The effect was instant. The sky cracked—not like glass, but like spider legs dragging across space. It bent into a thousand jagged lines, warping like webs across a bleeding horizon. A deep psychic pressure crashed over the land, howling across the Earth like the wails of mad gods.
Every human mind on the planet felt it—an invisible scream drilling into their sanity. Panic. Madness. A desire to die… but no ability to act on it. A world locked in silent terror.
Then… the red. From the torn sky above, a grand, robed colossus began to descend.
His hooded cloak, massive and imperial, dragged the clouds with him. The robe was dyed in impossibly deep crimson, darker than arterial blood, burning with royal decay. His face was hidden—only blackness beneath the hood, a void where identity had no place. Yet every soul felt him watching.
His arms were exposed—red-skinned, long and gaunt, fingers like tendrils. Across his exposed chest was a single, deep scar—a wound carved by Longinuslanze Testament—still fresh in its sacred violence, never healing, never forgotten.
And his throne—his throne descended with him. A jagged seat of bones, forged from beings long extinct, fused by hate and gravity. It hovered behind him as if the universe itself dared not touch it. A seat for kings that never should have been born.
The Crimson King had arrived. A mad, echoing laughter shattered the broken sky. ( Img here )
"I'M FREEEE!" he bellowed. "No more will I be bound by that cursed tower! "
His massive legs cracked apart—twisting—reforming into jagged arachnid limbs that stabbed into the earth. The Crimson King dragged his throne behind him like a corpse tethered to divinity. His voice bled malice.
"And as my first act," he snarled, "I shall make this world my new castle. Its skies will weep red. Its oceans will boil. Its people—crawl."
He moved—his spider-like frame carving lines into the scorched land.
"But first…" His eyes glowed beneath the hood—bottomless pits of hatred. "I will kill that fucking mortal who dared to scar me. Who carved my chest with the Golden Spear…"
Makima froze. Her pupils shrank, breath caught in her throat. She had seen him once—barely—back in the Aokigahara forest. But this… this was the full descent. A god of horror manifest.
Yet Kang Woo smiled. Arrogant. Calm. Stepping forward with effortless might as the mad god closed in.
And then… it began. A chant. . Dozens of voices from unseen planes, whispering, screaming, roaring with reverence, with vengeance, with destiny.
"The Betrayed Demon King.
Over a millennium of betrayal, he shall recover his breath of ruin."
Makima looked around. Space itself looked back.
From the sky, the stars began to flicker—replaced with eyes. Eyes from another realm.
Another chant erupted.
"Over a century of silence,
He shall reclaim his boundless intellect."
. Across the underworld. every pit and palace of demonkind. The Kaisergesang that Kang Woo had implanted began to awaken. Auswählen.
A surge of red, like rivers of fate, coursed through reality. Pillars of crimson light shattered the Crimson King's spider-web sky. Every ancient demon in the Underworld—and even devils in Makima's world—had their lifes ripped from their bones and returned to its rightfull owner .
Red columns of light crashed into Kang Woo, like spears of divine retribution finding their true master.
The chorus roared again.
"In a single hour,
he shall gather fragments of the power that was stolen."
The Crimson King halted.
Kang Woo's aura exploded outward like the rise of a sleeping winds reversed. The earth cracked with joy and terror.
And then— Kang Woo spoke.A single line. Cold. Final.
"And in mere moments… the world and celestials shall drown in despair once more."
Kang Woo and the Crimson King now stood face to face—barely a meter between them. The air between them warped with pressure, as if reality itself trembled under the weight of their presence.
Meanwhile, within the Zaiphon barrier—crafted meticulously by Mikhail to protect Makima—The Black King watched with wide-eyed disbelief. Then, casually, almost mockingly, he conjured a bag of black popcorn, each kernel shimmering like void matter, and began munching.
"That fucking Anos Voldigoad," the Black King muttered, half-laughing through a mouthful. "He's seriously going face-to-face with the Crimson King? Does he want to get instantly vaporized?"
Makima's patience snapped. In a blur, her red leash sword formed in her hand, . With a swift arc, she aimed to behead the smug specter sitting beside her.
But CLANG— The sword was halted mid-swing, blocked by a sheet of glowing Zaiphon energy.
Mikhail, still floating beside them in his sacred form, spoke calmly but firmly.
"There are two beings you do not challenge, . One… is the creature Kang Woo is about to fight."
He turned, eyes narrowing.
"And the other… is him. The Great Father. The Black King. If you raise your hand again—. You will simply cease to exist."
Makima stood frozen. Her lips parted slightly. Her eyes didn't leave the Black King—but slowly, her sword dissolved into threads of red light, vanishing from her grip. She said nothing, but the tension in her shoulders eased.
The Black King only smiled. Unbothered. His gaze drifted lazily toward the impending clash just meters away—his show was about to begin. And oh, how beautiful the annihilation would be.
Crimson King struck first. His massive arm swung down with the force of a collapsing dimension—a continent-level obliteration packed into a single blow. The air cracked. The battlefield buckled. Reality itself fractured, splintering like shattered glass, cascading into unstable fragments. The strike landed. Dust erupted. Space distorted. The world held its breath.
High above, the Crimson King let out a slow, mocking chuckle.
"Weak. You are nothing but a mortal."
But then—he paused. what he did see froze him.
Kang Woo stood there. Still. His body bore only a few bruises. Blood trickled faintly down his lip. He spat something metallic to the ground—a back tooth, cracked but insignificant.
Then he smirked.
"Authority of Restraint."
Out of nowhere, demonic red chains surged across the sky, wrapping tightly around The Black King, who was still watching from the Zaiphon barrier. The chains hissed with raw dominion energy, binding even a being that should not be touched.
The Crimson King's eyes twitched.
But Kang Woo wasn't done. His voice echoed again.
"Authority of Titanic Might… and Authority of Spallation."
Suddenly—his body ignited with immeasurable demonic energy. Cracks of black lightning ran across the ground beneath him as his blow was unleashed. A punch, forged essence of destruction. Spallation—his attack would now shatter any form of protection.
He moved. In a blink—his fist connected with the Crimson King's armored chest. CRACK. The reality armor shattered.—like fragile glass struck by a divine hammer.
The Crimson King staggered. "Wh—What is this… human?" he snarled. "To manage… to damage me—"
He coughed up blood. Thick. Black-red. Oozing with divine ichor