Chapter 555: Chapter 555
The war horns of Atlantis screamed across the city as Adam’s blood turned to molten rage. Baal’s colossal frame of writhing shadows and hellfire towered over the northern districts, his presence alone causing the orichalcum spires to crack and weep streams of liquid metal.
Six other titanic silhouettes flanked him in a mountain chain of malevolence—Zagan’s serpentine coils wrapped around the eastern peaks, Balam’s three-headed form casting triple shadows over the western side, while Purson’s leonine bulk lurked on the southern shores.
Beside each demon king, their dukes commanded hulking legions with vicious grins splitting their corrupted faces. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝✦𝘧𝙞𝙧𝙚✦𝕟𝕖𝕥
Duke Bune resembled a three-headed dragon, his middle head breathing commands while the others surveyed the battlefield. Marquis Ronove manifested as a monster whose tentacles directed waves of Vrock demons forward, each gesture leaving trails of ice and water. Earl Furfur galloped on a winged stud, his angelic appearance a mockery that commanded Marilith demons to slither through the ranks.
The Wild Hunt stood among them with casual arrogance, as if they weren’t the architects of the cosmos’s greatest crisis since the primordial chaos. The greatest Imp’s handsome features wore a satisfied smirk while Astaroth lounged upon his bone throne, fingers drumming against his chin with the patience of someone who had already won.
Adam’s feet pounded against the obsidian floors as he raced toward the throne room, Luna and Ozymandias following him. This wasn’t just about survival anymore—it was about settling accounts that stretched back to his first powerless days, when Baal’s mocking laughter had echoed through his worst nightmares.
But deeper than revenge burned something else. The demons had built their culture on an endless cycle of cruelty and dominance, where peace existed only as the brief pause between betrayals. Today, he would offer them something different—a future where strength protected instead of conquered.
"Surrender, god-slayer." Baal’s voice made the realm’s foundations tremble like struck bells, each word a physical force that cracked windows throughout the city. "Your city, friends, and loyal subjects don’t have to die today. We only want you, then I swear on my name that I’ll never touch any of them."
Adam gestured for his generals and mythical figures to surround him. "I have the same offer. Surrender, and a few might survive. Refuse, and you’ll all die by my hand, oh great king of lies."
Then, he divided the mythical figures to defend the city.
Karna ascended to the highest tower where his golden bow could rain solar arrows upon the demonic hordes, while Gawain’s hippogriff cavalry prepared to strike from above. Achilles was to take position at the northern wall where his bronze spear could hold the main breach, his soldiers forming ranks behind shields that gleamed with inherited heroism.
Wukong bounded toward the main gates, his staff spinning with anticipatory glee. "Finally, a proper fight! I was getting tired of palace duty."
When Adam asked Ozymandias to support the Monkey King, the god-king shook his head. His finger pointed directly at Paimon’s towering form, voice laden with the confidence that only absolute wisdom could provide.
But before Ozymandias could advance, the six fallen angels moved between him and Adam, weapons already in hand.
Zane spoke first, his voice carrying none of his old mischief. "The demon kings are ours." His glare at Ozymandias softened when it turned to Adam. "There are six of them—same as us. It feels like what we should do, what we were meant to do since the day you spared the weak imps we were."
Victoria leaned on her spear, her smile fierce with anticipation. "You can trust us, big brother."
Adam’s immediate refusal died on his lips as he met their determined gazes. For a moment, the handsome and beautiful warriors before him dissolved into memory—six small imps climbing onto his shoulders, their tiny arms hugging his head with infinite affection.
His lips tightened into a thin line. "Ifrit, Garduck, Shihan, Maven, Luna, and Ozymandias will go with you. Let it be two versus one."
The fallen angels trembled as he pulled them into his embrace, his genuine warmth cutting through their cold armor like sunlight through a blizzard. When he released them, they nodded solemnly.
Achilles moved toward Victoria, snatching her spear. Before she could protest, he pressed Jörmungandr’s Kiss into her hands in return. "It was never meant to be mine. Use it to carve victory into these bastards’ flesh."
Lilith, wearing Luna’s face, frowned at the team divisions but ultimately nodded with the expression of someone who understood desperate times called for strict measures. The subtle wrongness in her mannerisms went unnoticed amid the chaos of preparation.
Adam turned toward Maven, his brow creased in regret. "Sorry..."
Maven snarled, his draconic features twisting with frustrated bloodlust. "You can’t imagine how many times I’ve dreamed of slicing Baal to pieces."
"I know." Adam’s nod carried the weight of shared hatred. "But I can’t let them face demon kings alone."
Maven exhaled deeply, sulfurous gas swirling from his nostrils. Then he grinned. "They’re family to me too. I guess all I can do is kill our demon king and join you before you kill Baal."
Adam chuckled. "That sounds like the best plan." His hand found Maven’s shoulder as his expression grew solemn. He watched his generals one by one, voice heavy. "Do you remember the territory’s first rule in wartime?"
"Not a single death!" Shihan’s voice rang out instantly, her smile brightening the entire hall.
The rule had begun as selfish pragmatism—keeping his forces intact to avoid rebuilding from nothing. But somewhere along the way, it had become something more. He wanted to see them all smile when this was over, to celebrate until dawn with meat and alcohol and whatever strange substances Wukong enjoyed smoking. To achieve that dream, Baal had to die today.
"This is not a command," Adam said, his jaw clenched tight, knuckles white beneath his gauntlets. "This is a promise."
"A promise!" His generals echoed before spreading out to meet the invaders.
The goblin engineer Gork sprang into action aboard their mothership, ready to stretch the defensive fleet in a protective line.
But the demons had no intention of waiting. Boulders cleaved the sky like meteors, each one wreathed in hellfire that left burning trails across the red sky.
Atlantis’s barrier held for a handful of impacts before spider-web cracks spread around perfectly round holes. The massive stones crashed through buildings that had barely been repaired since Asgard’s assault, raising clouds of dust and shattering streets into glittering fragments.
When the flying fleet began its ascent, the Juggernauts adjusted their aim with terrifying precision. Molten boulders struck each vessel like beams of judgment, turning them into expanding fireballs that consumed entire neighborhoods in their explosion. The shockwaves toppled towers and collapsed bridges, turning Adam’s beautiful city into a war zone within moments.
Demonic flames and writhing shadows poured through the breaches like infected blood, reaching for the high walls where his mythical heroes had just taken their positions.
In the chaos that shook the foundation of his palace, Adam checked his stat panel before the final battle, frowning over the numbers.
Race: Twilight Draconian Emperor
Talent: EX grade: From gamer to god!
Job: God of Freedom and Vengeance
Class: Pantheon ender
Vitality: 10.000 (+33.500) (+4.000.000) = 4.043.500
Strength: 10.000 (+44.500) (+4.00.000) = 4.054.500
Agility: 10.000 (+36.000) (+4.00.000) = 4.046.000
Primordial chaotic essence: 400.000->2.000.000
"Might not be enough." He grumbled, remembering Baal had refined demonic essence for eons. His stats were in the dozen millions, his strength on par with the fourth devil.
Tiamat grinned beside him. "Don’t tell me you’re scared."
He smirked, his plasma blades igniting in his fist. "Me? Never! Let’s end this as we started: together."
She nodded, and they shot through the sky, winds whipping around them as they soared above the burning city, their eyes locked onto Baal’s towering figure.