The Underworld trembled beneath the force of Julian Kaiser Mercury's war. The destruction of the pureblood devil clans was no longer confined to isolated attacks—this was systematic annihilation, a coordinated effort to erase the remnants of an era that had once oppressed his family. No bloodline was spared.
The vast ruling structures that had dictated devil society for centuries were now falling one after another, crumbling under Julian's relentless assault. Yet even as he brought the aristocracy to its knees, the world around him tightened in response.
The Old Satan Faction grew restless, mistakenly believing they could steer Julian's war toward their own resurgence. The Angels and Fallen Angels intensified their interventions, sensing the destruction as a threat to the supernatural balance. Meanwhile, Sirzechs Lucifer, Serafall Leviathan, and Issei Hyoudou closed in, their search for the mastermind behind the chaos reaching its peak.
Inside the Mercury Estate, Julian stood before his peerage, his silver eyes reflecting the weight of the moment.
The grand hall of the estate pulsed with tension. Julian's peerage, now a refined force of warriors, tacticians, and rulers, stood ready for the next stage of their campaign. Around the table, Simo Häyhä, Oppenheimer, Tesla, Napoleon, Einstein, Darwin, and Mandela assessed strategies while Kalawarner, Ingvild Leviathan, Tiamat, Yubelluna, Seekvaira, Yasaka, and Katerea Leviathan watched in quiet contemplation.
Napoleon leaned forward, tapping the scattered remains of a devil aristocracy map that lay before them. "We are reaching the final phase. The remaining families, those who thought themselves untouchable, are now isolated. Their allies are broken, their forces weakened. What is our next step?"
Tesla smirked, electricity crackling at his fingertips. "We strike all at once—no warnings, no patterns. Let them fall simultaneously so they don't have time to react."
Oppenheimer adjusted his glasses, his voice calm. "Precision matters. If we destabilize them entirely in a single night, the factions opposing us will panic. They will no longer be thinking logically—they will act out of fear."
Kalawarner folded her arms, eyes sharp. "Which means Sirzechs, Serafall, and Issei will react more aggressively."
Seekvaira nodded, her expression thoughtful. "If we force their hand, we can predict their movements. Their desperation will reveal their weaknesses."
Julian listened to the discussion, his silver eyes calculating. This was more than vengeance now—it was the final shift in power that would reshape the Underworld forever.
His voice was quiet, but it carried through the room. "We move at midnight. Every remaining house falls. No exceptions."
The decision was final. The peerage exchanged glances before nodding. The war had entered its final phase.
The Old Satan Faction, believing Julian to be their perfect weapon, had reached out once again—only to be met with utter dismissal. When their emissaries arrived at the estate, Julian did not even grant them the courtesy of a conversation. The gates remained closed, the response clear: Julian had no interest in sharing his war with them.
Their leaders grew desperate, attempting to steer events from afar, but Julian saw through their schemes. He had no desire to return the Underworld to outdated traditions—his goal was a complete upheaval, not a restoration of the past.
And soon, the Old Satan Faction would realize they were as expendable as the aristocrats Julian was erasing.
Julian's war had reached beyond the Underworld, catching the attention of Michael and Azazel. Both factions recognized that his destruction of the devil elite was shifting supernatural power, and neither was willing to let the balance tilt unfavorably.
Michael's representative, a golden-winged angel, arrived first. "You threaten the harmony between worlds, Julian Mercury. If you continue, we will intervene."
Julian met her gaze, calm and unwavering. "Balance was never real—it was forced. And I am correcting it."
Azazel's emissary appeared next, casual but calculating. "You've made things interesting, Julian. But if you push too far, don't think we won't step in."
Julian's silver eyes gleamed. "Step in if you must. It won't change the outcome."
Both factions knew Julian would not stop—but neither was yet willing to wage war against him.
That hesitation would cost them.
Far beyond the Mercury estate, Sirzechs, Serafall, and Issei stood before the remains of Bael, Gremory, and other fallen houses, fury burning in their eyes.
Issei clenched his fists. "Whoever did this—they're a monster."
Sirzechs' voice was cold, controlled. "We will find him. The war he started will not end in his favor."
Serafall's normally cheerful demeanor was gone. "No one breaks my sister and gets away with it."
The hunt had reached its peak. Julian's identity was not yet revealed, but the Satans were closing in.
And Julian was waiting.
As midnight fell, Julian and his peerage executed their final strike. The remaining pureblood clans collapsed in a single coordinated attack, their strongholds burned, their legacies erased.
Tesla's storms obliterated fortresses before magic could be summoned. Simo eliminated key figures with a sniper's precision. Oppenheimer and Tiamat unleashed destruction beyond recognition, ensuring no survivors would rise again.
By dawn, the Underworld's aristocracy was dead.
And the factions opposing Julian were forced to make a choice.
Would they fight him?
Or would they accept that the world had already changed?
Julian stood at the balcony of the Mercury estate, Kalawarner, Ingvild, Yasaka, and Tiamat beside him. The Underworld was his now.
Kalawarner sighed, watching the distant fires. "It's done."
Ingvild spoke softly, her violet eyes reflecting the stars. "What happens now?"
Julian smiled faintly, his silver eyes gleaming. "Now, they come to me."
Because after all of this—after the hunt, the interference, and the war—there was only one question left in the minds of his enemies.
Would they stand against Mercury?
Or bow to him?