"I will never forget you... for as long as I live."
The King extended his hand.
Before the eyes of his followers, he was about to bring an end to the one existence that had threatened his life more than any other. The closest witnesses were Wesker, Maskith... and the assassin Vex, who observed from within the shadows.
Wesker had long since lost his composure.
Having witnessed that battle with his own eyes—a battle that far exceeded even his most unrestrained imagination—he felt nothing but helplessness. A crushing, absolute helplessness before such tyranny and overwhelming power.
Vex, on the other hand, did not even dare reveal his presence.
He feared that those monsters might kill him by accident... a meaningless death, erased without purpose. So when they saw Agaroth on the verge of ending Nameless, none of them moved.
They waited.
Silently... for the end.
The only one disturbed by that conclusion—
was, unexpectedly... Maskith.
The old man stood tense, his eyes trembling, his grip tightening unconsciously around his cane.
’Once again... will it end the same way?’
’Must I witness that humiliation again...?’
His thoughts raged within him, in stark contrast to the calm mask he maintained outwardly.
Agaroth had achieved his goal.
His restraints had weakened to the point where he could shatter them at any moment. He had pushed his opponent to the absolute limit ... drained him completely, until nothing remained.
And so... the Demon King declared himself.
The absolute strongest.
The final victor of this game.
Its ending would be sealed with the death of the one who had been pushed to the brink.
He reached out his hand—
and was about to strike.
That was when—
every eye widened in shock.
The game... had not ended.
With a single eye, Agaroth frowned—his gaze locking onto the man who had appeared out of nowhere, grasping his hand.
"Not this time... Agaroth!"
From nothingness, Gehrman appeared—bypassing the Demon King’s senses entirely, right before the eyes of all his followers.
Agaroth froze for a single moment.
He could not comprehend how the blue-eyed man had slipped behind him without being detected.
But Gehrman gave him no time to think.
His eyes ignited—his power surged—and he unleashed one of his strongest abilities.
"Chrono Guillotine!!"
Using his mastery over time, Gehrman froze the flow of time from Agaroth’s perspective, locking him in place.
Enduring the immense strain of the technique, Gehrman moved instantly—lifting Frey’s broken body into his arms and retreating without hesitation.
But the freeze did not last.
Not even three seconds ...
before it shattered.
Agaroth broke free and returned to normal.
Gehrman felt a surge of terror.
The last time he had used this ability on Agaroth, it had held for ten full seconds... yet now—
’Even after being completely drained from battle... he broke it in under three seconds...’
Fear gripped him.
How had Nameless and Frey managed to push this monster to such a state?
But Gehrman did not stop.
Despite the terror clawing at his mind, he pressed forward with everything he had. He knew ...
this was the moment.
The moment he had been waiting for... for a very long time.
A moment far beyond fate.
But he did not realize—
that the Demon King was already behind him.
Agaroth had closed the distance instantly.
"I’ve always wondered what you were planning... Gehrman."
"If this is your final gamble... then all I can say is—pathetic."
Gehrman turned his head slightly, still clutching Frey tightly in his arms.
"I suggest you look up," he said calmly, unwavering before the King.
"I am not the one you should be targeting."
Agaroth frowned—but complied.
And when he looked up—
he saw it.
A massive creature spread its wings directly above him.
A monstrous bird, its feathers black as coal, its face resembling that of an ancient crow.
One of the Great Ones...
The Devourer of Chaos had descended.
It crashed into the Demon King with full force, slamming him into the ground in a violent explosion that sent dust and destruction scattering across the land.
But Agaroth emerged almost instantly.
Behind him lay the lifeless corpse of the Devourer—pierced through by dozens of shadows blazing with black fire.
The King raised his gaze once more.
Above him ...
hundreds of colossal crows filled the sky.
Massive, blood-soaked birds that eclipsed the heavens themselves, diving toward him without hesitation.
For the first time ...
Agaroth did not understand what was happening.
’How are they bypassing my defenses so easily...?’
’And why would a Great One assist him...?’
For a brief moment, he reconsidered everything—wondering if Odin himself was behind it.
But then—
the sound of footsteps behind him shattered that thought.
"Here, Demon King... I am the answer to your questions."
A human voice spoke.
Agaroth turned.
Behind him stood a human—black-haired, red-eyed.
Insignificant... at first glance.
"Who are you?" the Demon King asked, already aware this form was nothing but a façade.
The one before him—
was someone he had seen before.
One of the humans who had always lingered around Frey.
A weak elite student.
Dawn Polaris.
But the one speaking...
was not Dawn.
His body trembled—
and before Agaroth’s eyes—
he transformed.
He grew taller... far taller.
His skin turned pale gray.
His eyes sank into darkness.
Long gray hair cascaded behind him.
And his presence—
changed completely.
Overwhelming.
Dominant.
Enough...
to stand before the Demon King himself.
He recognized him immediately.
"The Great One of Earth..."
"That is correct."
An overwhelming aura gathered around the Great One, and in the next instant, the Devourers of Chaos descended—swarming from every direction, enclosing the Demon King entirely within their ranks.
"This is the first time we meet," the Great One said calmly, "but forgive me... I have no time for words."
He attacked without hesitation, sealing the King off from everything around him.
"You are not going anywhere. You will remain here—with me—on the very planet you destroyed with your own hands."
In a brutal, thunderous spectacle, the Demon King was buried beneath hundreds of colossal winged beasts that had emerged from nothingness.
Creatures brought under the Great One’s control by some unknown means—an army unleashed solely to suppress him.
That intervention granted Gehrman the opening he needed.
As he ascended into the sky, he exchanged a brief glance with the Great One ... an unspoken understanding passing between them.
’Do your part of the bargain... Gehrman. The fate of an entire race rests on you.’
While the Great One restrained Agaroth, Gehrman had already fled far beyond reach.
From within his cloak, he drew a strange device resembling a compass. Extending his hand, he activated it—triggering a beam of white light that tore open a passage through space and time.
Without hesitation, Gehrman stepped through.
And left Earth behind.
Meanwhile, Agaroth remained engulfed beneath the relentless assault of the Devourers of Chaos and the Great One combined.
Exhausted from his battle against Nameless, he could not respond with his usual speed ... forcing him, for the first time ever, to issue commands to his subordinates.
"Pursue him."
His voice echoed directly within their minds.
They all moved instantly—but only three were fast enough to slip through the closing portal:
Maskith.
Wesker.
And the Duke of Hell, Vex.
They emerged on the other side ...
into a completely different world.
A crimson sky.
A barren, lifeless wasteland.
A strange, suffocating planet that radiated an oppressive atmosphere.
This... was ancient Londor.