The Holy City Aurelia had never feared the night.
Its streets were always bathed in sacred light—crystals embedded in marble towers glowed with gentle radiance, banishing shadows and doubt alike. Bells rang at dawn, noon, and dusk, reminding the faithful that the gods watched, always.
Tonight, the bells rang on their own.
Demian stood at the edge of the city, hood drawn low, cloak fluttering in the cold wind. From here, Aurelia looked untouchable—walls carved with holy scripture, battlements manned by elite knights, the Grand Cathedral rising at the center like a spear aimed at heaven itself.
Inside him, Lucifer observed quietly.
"So this is the nest of liars," the Hell Emperor murmured. "They have improved their defenses since my fall."
Demian's eyes were steady. "They won't matter."
He took a step forward.
The city gate guards stiffened.
"Halt! State your business—"
Demian walked past them.
Not around.
Through.
Their bodies slammed into the walls as if struck by an invisible giant, armor denting inward. Neither knight even had time to scream.
Lucifer chuckled softly.
"Careless. You could have slipped in unnoticed."
Demian didn't stop walking. "I didn't come to hide."
The Weight of Authority
The moment Demian entered Aurelia, the city reacted.
Holy wards flickered.
Statues of saints cracked, fine fractures spreading across their faces like spiderwebs. A dozen priests collapsed mid-prayer, blood spilling from their mouths as their blessings backfired violently.
At the heart of the city, in the Grand Cathedral, Cardinal Erasmus Valewyn rose from his throne, face pale.
"Sound the alarm," he hissed. "A heretic emperor has stepped into holy ground."
A knight captain hesitated. "An emperor…?"
Erasmus turned slowly, eyes burning. "Do you feel that pressure? That is not a demon lord. That is authority."
Outside, citizens began to notice.
People slowed, hands clutching their chests. Children cried for no reason they could understand. Animals fled.
Demian walked through the main avenue like an executioner strolling toward the gallows.
Inside him, Lucifer spoke again.
"Interesting… you are suppressing my aura."
Demian nodded faintly. "If I let it loose, the city dies too fast."
Lucifer laughed. "You are learning."
The First Saint
The plaza before the Grand Cathedral erupted in golden light.
A figure descended from the heavens, wings of radiance spreading wide. Her armor gleamed white and gold, unblemished, bearing the sigil of the Church's highest order.
Saint Elowen.
The crowd fell to their knees instantly.
"Elowen!" someone cried. "The Saint has come!"
She landed gracefully, spear of light forming in her hand. Her gaze locked onto Demian.
"You," she said, voice echoing with divine resonance. "Kneel and repent."
Demian stopped.
He looked at her—not with hatred, not with fear.
With disappointment.
"My village burned," he said calmly. "My family screamed while your knights carved prayers into their flesh."
Elowen's expression flickered—for just a moment.
"That was necessary," she replied. "Sacrifice preserves order."
Demian tilted his head. "Then let's see how much order you can preserve."
Lucifer's voice slid into his thoughts, amused.
"Careful. Saints are closer to gods than men."
Demian stepped forward anyway.
"Lucifer," he said, "no authority this time."
The Hell Emperor paused.
Then laughed.
"Very well. Show me your own blade."
Saint vs. Heretic
Elowen moved first.
She vanished in a burst of light, reappearing above Demian, spear descending like judgment itself.
Demian raised his arm.
The impact shattered the plaza.
Stone exploded outward, a crater forming beneath Demian's feet. His arm trembled—but did not break.
Elowen's eyes widened.
"You're not using hellfire," she realized. "This strength… it's yours."
Demian grabbed the spear.
Holy light burned into his flesh, smoke rising as his skin blackened.
He did not release it.
"Good," he said through clenched teeth. "Then this will hurt you more."
He pulled.
Elowen stumbled forward—just long enough for Demian's fist to collide with her ribs.
The sound was wet.
She flew across the plaza, crashing into the cathedral steps, armor cracked, blood staining gold.
Silence fell.
A Saint… struck down.
Truth Beneath Faith
Elowen struggled to rise.
"You don't understand," she gasped. "The Church is the only thing holding back—"
"Hell?" Demian finished.
Lucifer laughed loudly inside him.
Demian walked toward her slowly.
"I've seen hell," he said. "It's more honest than you."
He knelt beside her.
"Tell me," he whispered, "who ordered Rosenvale's purification?"
Elowen's lips trembled.
"…The High Synod," she admitted. "And the Emperor approved the decree."
Demian stood.
"That's all I needed."
He raised his hand.
Lucifer's presence surged.
"Now?" the Hell Emperor asked eagerly.
Demian nodded.
"Now."
Black authority erupted outward.
Elowen screamed as her divine blessings were stripped away, torn from her soul like rotten flesh. Her wings shattered into light.
She fell—human again.
Demian turned away.
"Live," he said coldly. "And tell them what you saw."
A City in Terror
Demian faced the cathedral.
The massive doors trembled.
Inside, priests prayed desperately, saints wept, and cardinals argued.
Demian raised his voice—not loud, yet heard by all.
"Church of Light," he declared, "your sins have found you."
The bells shattered.
The sky darkened.
Lucifer's laughter echoed through Aurelia.
"Ah… this world is going to burn beautifully."
Demian stepped forward.
And the Holy City began to fall.
End of Chapter 4