Rai's face twisted in sheer, unfiltered disgust as Lilith leaned in closer for the kiss. His expression was so intense it could have warded off a demon.
Lilith blinked, taken aback. "What's wrong? Is it my hair?" she asked, her tone shifting from confidence to mild concern.
Rai squinted at her with pure curiosity. "How much makeup do you have on?"
A vein nearly popped on Lilith's forehead. "You fool! What you see before you is pure, natural beauty! Not a single ounce of chemical enhancement was used!" she declared, hands on her hips, voice booming with righteous indignation.
Rai remained completely unfazed, blinking at her. "But… some of your makeup is rubbing off."
Lilith's fury screeched to a halt. "Eh?"
Without hesitation, she conjured a mirror, inspecting her face with the urgency of someone defusing a bomb. A few tense seconds passed before realization struck—her face was exactly as she had said, untouched by any makeup.
Slowly lowering the mirror, she turned back to Rai, deadpan. "Ha ha. Very funny. You got me."
But Rai wasn't just standing around. While Lilith was preoccupied, fussing over her nonexistent makeup, he was already channeling his power.
Lightning crackled around his fist as his armor shifted, morphing into a massive, spiked gauntlet pulsing with yellow arcs of energy. Prana surged through it, making magic nullification completely useless against him.
The moment Lilith finished turning back—
BAM!
Rai's fist crashed into her face with devastating force, sending shockwaves of lightning rippling through the force field she had created.
Lilith was sent hurtling backward, crashing into the force field with a thunderous impact. The shimmering barrier wavered under the force before slowly dissipating, finally allowing Pragaya and the others to rush in.
Rai, his face set in a rare expression of cold seriousness, muttered under his breath, "That was for Gale, you disgusting woman."
Before he could take another step, Pragaya grabbed him firmly. "Come on, boy, we need to get you out of here."
His sharp instincts had already assessed the situation—Lilith's true strength was far beyond what Rai could handle right now. If she fought at full power, the collateral damage would be catastrophic. Pragaya knew there was only one option: get Rai out of harm's way so he could face her alone.
"Alright, you disrespectful brat! If you won't be mine willingly, then I'll make you mine by force!" Lilith growled, her irritation boiling over as she powered up.
Pragaya didn't hesitate. "Kromus, Shelly, Luthor—cover me! I'm getting Rai out of here!"
But Lilith was too fast. The trio barely had time to react before she was already closing in. Her speed was beyond human comprehension—only Kromus, Shelly, Luthor, and, of course, Pragaya could even perceive her movements. And among them, only Pragaya had the strength to stop her.
With no other options left, Pragaya made a split-second decision. He would use his ascension technique. But he hesitated—it was too powerful, too overwhelming. If unleashed here, even his allies could be caught in the devastation.
And that was it.
That single moment of hesitation was all it took.
For darkness to outshine light.
For evil to overpower the righteous.
For a tragedy of unimaginable proportions to unfold.
In that single moment of hesitation, Lilith struck.
Her hands—delicate, perfectly human, adorned with elegant yet razor-sharp nails—wrapped around Rai's waist. Pragaya reached out, his heart pounding. No!
But it was already too late.
With a horrifying, effortless motion, she tore Rai in half.
Pragaya's face froze in sheer, absolute horror. Kromus, Shelly, and Luthor stood paralyzed, their skin turning ghostly pale as the brutal reality sank in.
Rai's blood and entrails splattered across the battlefield, staining the ground in a gruesome display of cruelty.
And in that chilling moment, the four of them understood something undeniable—this was not a human who had fallen to darkness due to pain, society, or circumstance. There was no buried trace of rationality, no suppressed fragment of compassion lurking in her soul.
Lilith was pure evil in the form of a beautiful woman.
Lilith laughed maniacally, the sound dripping with twisted delight. Yet, even in her madness, she remained breathtakingly elegant—an enchantress whose beauty defied the horror she had just committed.
Even now, men would still fall for her. They would die for her. And, tragically, they would kill for her.
Unless one possessed an unshakable mind and unwavering discipline, resisting her allure was impossible.
Rai's body hung in two gruesome halves, held together only by the strands of his exposed spine. His organs lay strewn across the battlefield in a grotesque display of carnage.
Pragaya dropped to his knees, clutching Rai's lifeless body in his trembling hands.
He had lost hope.
Like a father mourning his son—he broke.
Silence.
No one could move. No one could speak.
Frozen in fear, they struggled to process the excruciating reality—Rai was gone. The weight of that realization crushed them, suffocating and unbearable.
Only Lilith's laughter echoed through the battlefield, her twisted amusement cutting through the stillness like a blade.
Until a voice—deep, commanding, and absolute—shattered the silence. The Atmosphere shifted to one of darkness and red.
"I do not remember permitting you to kill him."
The words swept across the battlefield like a storm, noble, strong, and terrifying—a voice fit for a king.
Lilith's laughter died instantly. A cold shiver ran down her spine as beads of sweat rolled down her face.
Pragaya, Kromus, Shelly, and Luthor stiffened.
The suffocating sense of dread that washed over them was far worse than when Lilith had first unleashed her true power.
Even Pragaya—one of the strongest among them—found himself struggling to breathe beneath its crushing weight.
A shadowy figure materialized behind Lilith, his presence overwhelming, suffocating.
"Answer me, Lilith. Who gave you the liberty to take his life?"
His voice was low, dangerous—each word laced with an unspoken threat.
Before she could react, he struck.
In a single, merciless motion, he ripped both her arms from her body.
The battlefield, once echoing with Lilith's twisted laughter, was now filled with her agonized screams. Blood sprayed across the ground as she convulsed in pain, her body writhing from the sheer brutality of the attack.
Kromus, Shelly, and Luthor couldn't even lift their heads. Kneeling on the ground, they struggled against the crushing weight of his presence, their bodies trembling under the sheer intensity of his aura.
Pragaya, through sheer will, slowly forced himself to look up.
His breath caught.
His eyes widened in pure shock.
He knew exactly who this being was.
It was Zaass.
But he was not alone.
Standing beside him was a man unlike any other—a towering presence with massive, feathery black wings stretching from his back. Dressed in a pristine suit and tie, his chiseled jawline and muscular frame exuded an aura of authority, grace, and sheer ruthlessness.
This was no ordinary man.
This was Akiel.
Lilith, still writhing in pain, sniffled as she struggled to form words between gasping breaths.
"I... ah... hm... I—I'm sorry, Lord Akiel... please... ah... forgive me..."
Her voice was weak, trembling with desperation.
Akiel reached down, his fingers wrapping around the top of her head. With effortless strength, he lifted her into the air like a ragdoll, her body twitching in agony.
Leaning in close, he whispered into her ear, his voice dripping with menace.
"You must have mistaken me for God."
Then, with a swift, merciless squeeze—
He crushed her skull.
Blood and brain matter splattered across the floor as her lifeless body slumped in his grip.
The battlefield fell into an eerie silence.
Pragaya could only watch in horror, frozen by the sheer brutality unfolding before him.
The other three—Kromus, Shelly, and Luthor—still couldn't lift their heads, barely clinging to consciousness under the suffocating weight of Akiel's presence.
Akiel clicked his tongue in irritation, running a hand over his forehead.
"Ah, crap. This bitch isn't supposed to die yet, right, Zaass?"
At his words, Zaass flinched before hurriedly scurrying to his side, his voice trembling with fear.
"Y-Yes, Lord! She... she's still valuable to us!"
Akiel let out an exasperated sigh.
"So be it."
Extending his arm over Lilith's shattered corpse, his voice dropped into something dark, commanding.
"RISE FROM THE ABYSS."
At the utterance of those words, her body began to reanimate.
A grotesque, agonizing process.
Her shattered skull slowly fused back together, bones snapping into place, flesh mending itself.
Through it all, her agonized screams filled the battlefield—writhing, shrieking, the sound of pure suffering.
The reanimation process was nothing short of excruciating.
Lilith's bloodcurdling screams tore through the battlefield, a horrifying symphony of agony as her body forcefully fused back together.
Zaass stood frozen, watching in pure horror as every broken piece of Lilith was grotesquely reconstructed.
Meanwhile, Kromus, Luthor, and Shelly—still unable to lift their heads—could only imagine the nightmare through the sheer, deafening torment in her voice.
But Akiel paid no mind to the suffering behind him.
His focus was elsewhere.
He stepped toward Rai.
Pragaya gritted his teeth, fighting with every ounce of his will to move.
To stand.
But he couldn't.
He could only try.
The sheer difference in power between him and Akiel was insurmountable—so vast, it felt like trying to grasp the sun itself.
Meanwhile, Lilith's screams had stopped.
The process was complete.
She stood perfectly intact, her beauty untouched by the horrors her body had just endured.
Yet, something had changed.
There was no trace of her usual sultry arrogance.
No playful charm.
No composure.
She made herself small.
Insignificant.
Anything to avoid drawing Akiel's wrath.
Akiel approached Pragaya and Rai, his every step carrying an unshakable sense of finality.
Without hesitation, he extended his arm over Rai's lifeless body and began to chant.
"RISE FROM THE—"
Before he could finish—
A blinding streak of light cut through the battlefield.
A figure descended from the sky, landing between them.
With a single, decisive motion, the newcomer grabbed Akiel's arm.
The battlefield shook from the sheer force of his presence.
He was regal, his posture exuding absolute authority. His royal cloak billowed in the wind, his crimson-red hair burning like fire under the fading light. His eyes, overflowing with pure magic, were unmistakable.
A member of the Fire Clan.
A warrior.
A king.
His expression was unyielding, his gaze piercing straight into Akiel's soul—a silent declaration that he would not stand down.
And Akiel stared back.
His own eyes, brimming with dark magic, met the fiery determination of his opponent.
But unlike the Hellrisers, whose darkness was mere trickery and imitation—
Akiel's power was real.
A force of nature.
The power of the Devil himself.
"I think it's time you leave," the man commanded, his voice carrying an undeniable authority.
Pragaya instantly recognized it. His eyes snapped upward with a surge of hope. And there he was, standing in all his glory and excellence—the Elemental Magistrate.
He was not alone. An army stood at his back, their presence radiating strength and discipline. Beside him, a breathtaking woman descended with effortless grace. She was dressed in an exquisite royal gown, her beauty rivaling even Lilith's. Long crimson hair, reminiscent of Rose's, cascaded down her shoulders, adorned with regal jewelry that shimmered under the light.
Without hesitation, she knelt beside Rai's lifeless body, her delicate hands gently resting over him. A serene aura surrounded her as she began to chant, her voice both soothing and divine.
"May the Father in Heaven embrace your soul and return it to where it once belonged—DIVINE RESTORATION."
A radiant light enveloped Rai, and before their eyes, the impossible unfolded. His scattered organs, his torn flesh—every broken piece of him—began to mend in a sacred, ethereal manner. There was no agony, no screams of pain. It was as if he were merely sleeping, untouched by the suffering he had endured.
But... something was off.
Akiel knew it.
His smile widened, not with frustration, but with amusement—as if this entire spectacle had been meaningless.
As if the spell hadn't even mattered.
He chuckled, his voice smooth yet laced with something unsettling.
"Going through all that trouble... truly silly.
For the winds of time will whisper what has been concealed."
The Elmag immediately stepped forward, his presence commanding.
His gaze sharpened. His voice firm.
"I think that's enough out of you. Leave—before I make you."
Akiel laughed.
A deep, resounding cackle that sent chills down the spines of those who could still move.
"Hahahahahaha... Very well, Leviticus.
I'll be on my way."
His gaze flickered to Rai, now fully healed yet still lying unconscious.
For a brief moment, his expression changed.
A whisper, barely audible—yet carrying a weight that promised something ominous.
"...For now."
Then, in an instant, Akiel, Zaass, and Lilith vanished.