The Underworld had never seen such devastation. The flames of Julian's conquest had reached their peak, and now, the devils, angels, and fallen angels had united against him. Their leaders—Sirzechs Lucifer, Serafall Leviathan, Michael, and Azazel—had put aside their differences, realizing that if Julian was left unchecked, the balance they had built would be shattered forever.
The time for games had ended. War had begun.
Inside the Mercury Estate, Julian stood at the center of his peerage and harem, his silver eyes gleaming with cold calculation. The atmosphere was electric—every warrior, tactician, and ruler present knew that this was the final battle, the decisive moment that would determine whether Julian's vision prevailed.
Tesla slammed his fist against the map of the Underworld, electricity sparking from his fingertips. "They're coming at us from all angles. The angels from above, the devils from the Underworld, and the fallen angels maneuvering between both territories."
Napoleon nodded, scanning the battlefield with sharp eyes. "We need to set traps before they arrive. If we can weaken their front lines, their forces will crumble before they even reach us."
Oppenheimer adjusted his glasses, his voice controlled. "Destruction must be precise. A well-timed counterstrike can turn this battle in our favor."
Tiamat smirked, her golden eyes burning with anticipation. "Let them come. The fools think numbers will save them."
Julian studied them all, his peerage and harem ready to execute his will. He exhaled slowly, then spoke with unwavering certainty. "We divide into teams. Strike first, strike fast. We control the battlefield."
The heavens split open, divine warriors descending in waves as the angelic faction, led by Michael, initiated their assault. Blinding light surged through the sky, illuminating the battlefield in pure celestial radiance.
At the same time, the devils, led by Sirzechs and Serafall, emerged from the depths of the Underworld, their magic crackling with fury as they launched their offensive.
Between them, Azazel's fallen angels soared across the skies, coordinating attacks designed to crush Julian's forces.
Julian stood at the center of it all, surrounded by his peerage and harem, watching as war unfolded before his eyes. Then, with a single command, he unleashed his army.
Simo Häyhä, the White Death, took position on a distant hill, his rifle gleaming. Every angel who descended met a bullet before their feet touched the ground.
Tesla and Oppenheimer, masters of destruction, created electrical storms and nuclear-level explosions that shattered divine formations and erased entire devil battalions.
Napoleon and Seekvaira, the tactical masterminds, coordinated counterattacks that forced the enemy into traps, turning their own numbers against them.
Ingvild Leviathan's voice echoed, summoning dragons that tore through the skies, challenging Michael's angelic forces with overwhelming power.
Tiamat faced the strongest warriors head-on, her draconic aura crashing against Serafall's magic in a clash that shook the battlefield.
Yasaka led the Youkai, their supernatural abilities countering the fallen angels' trickery, ensuring Julian's forces held their ground.
And at the heart of it all, Julian activated his Reflection power, sending every attack back toward his enemies, turning their strength into their own downfall.
The battle raged for hours, bodies falling, magic colliding, and the very foundations of the world shaking. Then, the leaders themselves stepped onto the battlefield.
Sirzechs Lucifer's crimson eyes burned with fury as he faced Julian. "You've destroyed everything! You think this war makes you a king?!"
Serafall's expression was colder than ever. "You broke my sister… I'll never forgive you for that."
Michael's divine presence radiated like a storm. "Your actions have threatened the balance of existence, Julian. This ends now."
Azazel smirked, but his voice carried weight. "You've made quite the mess. Now, let's see if you can survive cleaning it up."
Julian stood firm, his silver eyes gleaming with unreadable intent. He had been waiting for this moment—the war was finally in his hands.
The heavens crashed against the earth. The Underworld burned. Magic tore through the sky.
And at the center of it all, Julian Mercury stood unshaken.
This war would decide the fate of the world.
And Julian had never been more ready.