Oppressive tension filled the surroundings, weighing heavily on everyone’s mind and pressing down on their senses like an invisible hand that refused to loosen its grip.
The Saints felt it the most. To them, this was no longer a battlefield but the space between two beasts preparing to tear each other apart, and they were nothing more than fragile ants caught in the middle, powerless and painfully aware of it.
Remiel stood tall with his four meter figure, his golden presence restrained yet unmistakable, while the child with long black hair and a small frame faced him without even the slightest hint of fear. The contrast between their appearances was almost absurd, yet the silence between them carried enough pressure to shatter nerves.
"An Angel descending in the mortal realm. Looks like the rumor that I heard about the Heavenly Realm being blinded is true....."
The child spoke with clear intrigue, his crimson eyes calmly observing Remiel, as if peeling him layer by layer. There was no hostility in his tone, only curiosity laced with quiet disdain.
A flash of fury surged within Remiel the moment he heard those words, sharp and violent, but it vanished just as quickly.
"Who are you?" Remiel asked, his voice cold and controlled, carrying authority without raising itself.
The childlike being chuckled softly, the mockery in his eyes deepening as if he had already seen through Remiel’s restraint.
"Who I am is no matter to you. Does it?" he replied lightly. "Why don’t you tell me who you are and why you came here...?"
The final words carried weight, subtle yet unmistakable, and the air itself seemed to respond. The pressure around them thickened, turning heavy enough that even breathing felt like resistance.
A golden glint passed through Remiel’s eyes as he released his aura, no longer hiding it. Divine pressure surged outward, sharp and absolute, yet it curved deliberately around the Saints behind him, shielding them without drawing attention to the act. He needed them alive atleast for now.
Invisible sparks flared through the air as their auras collided, pressure grinding against pressure while their gazes locked, neither yielding even an inch.
And in the next instant, both figures vanished.
They reappeared high above in the sky.
-CLASH!!
The sound of impact exploded through the sky, tearing apart the sound barrier as golden and white light slammed into each other. Their movements were far beyond mortal perception, their forms blurring as repeated collisions echoed like thunder. To the Saints below, it was nothing short of a divine calamity unfolding in the heavens.
Anyone foolish enough to stray into that space would not even leave dust behind.
-CLASH!!
-CLASH!!
-CLASH!!
-CLASH!!
The exchange lasted only a few seconds before both figures separated, appearing a short distance apart, their gazes sharp and guarded.
Remiel stared at the child, his expression solemn, his mind already dissecting every detail.
What child? He is definitely an old monster who has regained his youth through enlightenment.
The suspicion had been there from the moment of his arrival, but after exchanging blows, it became undeniable.
Remiel’s speed was dangerously close to the speed of light, a realm few could even perceive, yet the being before him reacted effortlessly. His eyes never wavered, never lost focus, as if nothing in existence could distract him. The thought alone sent a cold sensation crawling through Remiel’s spine.
What disturbed him further was the restraint. Every clash had been made using only physical strength and a minimal amount of energy, yet the force behind each strike matched his own perfectly.
It was as if he was doing it on purpose.
Remiel did not know whether that assumption was true, but he did not dismiss it either. Behind his calm expression, calculations continued relentlessly, and beneath his composed exterior, his readiness to annihilate everything in his path remained absolute, should the need arise.
"Hmm, I would say you are quite capable. My strength has recently increased and I was itching for a fight. Who would have thought I would get the opportunity this soon, and even get an Angel as a sparring partner."
The child smiled as he spoke, calm arrogance dripping from every word, as if this encounter had merely amused him rather than challenged him.
Hearing those words made Remiel’s blood boil. Being treated as nothing more than a sparring partner, mocked so casually, stirred irritation deep within him. Yet even then, his expression remained composed, his posture dignified, his restraint deliberate.
"Who are you?" Remiel demanded coldly. "Answer me. Or are you a coward who fears retaliation, afraid of being hunted down by high ranking angels once your name is known."
The mockery in his tone was intentional, sharp and precise, aimed to provoke.
Instead of anger, the child’s smile widened, his crimson eyes glinting with amusement.
"Indeed, you are right. I cannot disclose my name. After all, names are quite powerful in the universe. Exposing them is akin to exposing everything about oneself."
He paused briefly, then continued with a tone laced with pity rather than hostility.
"But I feel sorry for you. I am going to kill you soon, so you should at least have the honor of knowing who killed you. I shall tell you my title."
His voice echoed outward, carrying unnatural authority.
"It is I, the Demon King of Destruction. And the demon you killed a few minutes ago was my foolish son."
The declaration rippled through the surroundings, his words reverberating across a vast distance. Everyone who heard it stiffened in shock. The Saints froze, their faces turning pale, while even the Whisperer’s expression darkened. How could they forget the Demon King.
Remiel’s eyes narrowed as understanding dawned on him.
So that is why he appeared.
Looks like when I killed that filthy demon, he sensed it and came here.
With that realization, Remiel relaxed slightly. Earlier, he had suspected that he was facing one of those hidden protectors of the Mortal Realm, which was why his caution had been so extreme.
But now, knowing his opponent was nothing more than a demon, his confidence surged like a raging tide.
"Hmph. Demon King of Destruction?" Remiel scoffed openly. "What an arrogant name. You clearly do not understand the gravity of using titles such as ’destruction’ and ’king’. If you did, you would never dare to bear them."
His gaze sharpened, contempt undisguised.
"And kill me? That is nothing more than a foolish dream you are brewing in your head. Dreams like that tend to shatter."
His words dripped with disdain as he looked at the being before him. Whether he knew the demon’s true name or not no longer mattered. Knowing he was a demon was sufficient.
Remiel understood these creatures well. Demons were among the lowest species born from the Abyss. Occasionally, solitary demons would slip through unstable paths and appear in other realms, but they were often ignored.
Not out of mercy, but because they were insignificant.
Why would a high being descend just to crush an ant rolling in mud. Such an act would only cheapen their authority and influence.
So the Angels turned a blind eye.
And if those demons caused enough destruction, it would only serve the Angels better. They would descend later, after the chaos had spread, eradicate every demon at once, and emerge as saviors. The people would worship them, faith would surge, karmic virtue would flow, and their power would grow stronger.
This was how Angels truly operated.
Manipulating outcomes, exploiting loopholes in the fractured laws of the cosmos, and turning calamities into nourishment for their divinity.
"I did not hold this title before," the child said calmly. "But from now on, I will embody the title of Demon King of Destruction. As for the reason, you are not worthy enough to know."
His eyes hardened, the amusement fading.
With those words, he lunged forward. His fist pulled back and shot forth with violent momentum, destructive power coiling around it as space itself trembled in anticipation of the impact.
Remiel’s eyes constricted into tiny pinpoints as an overwhelming sense of danger washed over his body, sharp and instinctive. His wings flapped violently as he retreated several kilometers away from the incoming fist, the air tearing apart behind him as he forcefully created distance.
What is this? What is this sensation????
It was the first time in his life he had ever felt something like this. The earlier attack clearly carried the power to gravely injure him, and that realization alone made his mind grow tense and alert. His heartbeat quickened despite his composure, a reaction he could not suppress.
His gaze locked onto the demon’s fist, where a crimson energy had suddenly manifested and coiled tightly around it. The moment Remiel focused on that energy itself, his expression shifted as understanding dawned on him.
This was the source of the danger.
It was that crimson energy.
What is this energy? It is making even me sweat...
Remiel narrowed his eyes, his divine senses probing deeper, yet finding no familiar law or authority tied to it. Whatever it was, he was keenly aware of one thing. It was an extremely destructive energy, dense and violent, carrying the undeniable power to bring ruin even to beings like him.
Seeing Remiel dodge his attack, the Demon King of Destruction laughed out loud, his voice, though that of a child, resonated throughout the entire battlefield.
The sound carried a strange mix of innocence and menace, echoing across the surrounding mountains and valleys like a haunting, twisted melody. A pin-drop silence followed, as if the world itself had paused, leaving only the echo of his laughter vibrating through the air.
Remiel felt his face burn with frustration and indignation. He had shown utter disdain toward this seemingly childish opponent, and now, forced to retreat under the attack of the foe, his pride flared. He could feel every pulse of his anger sharpen his senses, demanding action.
His eyes flashed with determination. Seeing the laughing, seemingly defenseless demon in front of him, he struck without any regard for honor or appearances.
If anyone witnessed it, it would make no difference; once the demon was dead, any mortal who saw him would be erased as well, leaving no trace of the confrontation.
His wings unfurled and flared with golden light, transforming him into a streak of brilliance, appearing directly before the demon as if he had teleported. His hands were cloaked in Divine Aura, a manifestation of the raw divine energy that had the power to burn away all negative forces.
Rather than attacking from a distance, giving the demon a chance to evade, he chose to strike in close range, cornering him completely.
His hands shot toward the neck of the laughing child, while dozens of swords formed from pure Divine Aura appeared in the air, sealing every possible escape route. Each sword hovered with deadly precision, moving in perfect harmony with his hands, a physical extension of his concentration and intent.
He unleashed his Divine Art: Judgment of Thousands Swords.
Though he had not yet mastered it, and only dozens of swords formed instead of the thousands as they were meant to be, Remiel placed his full faith in the technique. The element of surprise, combined with the concentrated might of his Divine Aura, should guarantee success.
At least, that was what he believed.
In the next instant, the demon defied reason. The old monster, still laughing suddenly leapt towards the trajectory of Remiel’s aura swords with fluid precision.
"Foolish Angel, you are far too arrogant," the Demon King said, his calm voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
Remiel’s heart skipped a beat. Seeing that mocking smile in front of him he immediately realized that he had fallen into a trap. The feigned defenselessness had been a lure to draw him in.
Remiel’s mind raced, clouded with the fear of an unknown power he could scarcely comprehend. Canceling the Divine Art was impossible; even if he could, the backlash from interrupting such a technique was extreme. He would risk losing control over his divine energy for hours, a danger he could not afford.
While he hesitated, the Demon King ducked under the incoming aura swords. His fist, now shrouded in the same crimson energy that had earlier unnerved Remiel, blurred with overwhelming destructive force, striking with unstoppable momentum.
-BOOM!!!
Remiel’s body arched violently in the air, his wings flailing as he was hurled toward a distant mountain with incredible force. The terrain beneath him cracked and splintered from the impact, leaving deep scars across the battlefield.
The echo of the collision carried for miles.
**