"I knew Hellmond was a completely dead world devoid of all forms of life... but seeing it with my own eyes is nothing like what I imagined."
Frey gazed with interest across the vast lands of Hellmond, the world of demons.
It was a barren, lifeless wasteland. The ground had turned into charred black ruin, with no buildings, no civilization... nothing but death and destruction, in a state far worse than what the Ultras had once suffered through.
The sky itself was crimson, entirely red much like Londor’s, except five moons hung above it.
Yet even the moons had not escaped the curse of death.
The force of life had vanished from them as well.
"The aura here is suffocating... completely polluted." Frey said quietly while crouching down to touch the scorched earth.
He picked up a handful of black sand before allowing the wind to carry it away.
"Any ordinary creature left here for long enough would inevitably die."
Behind him, Maskith stood silently for some time before finally asking:
"Why... am I the only one you brought with you?"
"The only one?" Frey replied beneath his mask before his gaze shifted behind Maskith.
"When did I ever say you were the only one coming with me?"
The moment those words fell...
The space behind Maskith trembled and slowly twisted apart.
The old man instantly leapt forward in shock as the body of another living being began forming behind him.
It was a pale-skinned man with unnaturally white flesh. His existence itself felt warped and mysterious, unlike almost anything else alive.
"I thought I concealed myself quite well, yet you still managed to pinpoint my exact location... as expected of you."
The Great One of Earth lowered his head slightly toward Frey as he revealed himself before Maskith.
The old man’s expression stiffened slightly.
’I never sensed his presence at all...’
Maskith tightened his fist while maintaining his guard before turning toward Frey.
"Are you truly certain about this?" he asked coldly. "He is one of the Great Ones. Servants incapable of disobeying the Lord of Mist..."
The hostility in his voice toward the Great One was obvious. Anything related to the Lords of Mist stood as the natural opposite of beings tied to the Book.
But Frey showed no concern over his presence.
At first, he had refused him entirely, only agreeing later after receiving several guarantees from the Great One himself.
"There’s no issue with him accompanying me." Frey replied casually. "He’s hardly the first enemy I’ve recruited to my side."
His gaze drifted toward Maskith afterward.
"You yourself are the perfect example."
Maskith clicked his tongue irritably as Frey mocked him before continuing forward across Hellmond’s wasteland near the towering Tower of End.
"The Great One of Earth is necessary if I want my plans for the demons to succeed." Frey continued calmly.
"I didn’t come here to kill them."
"And you know very well why."
Maskith fell silent after hearing that.
After all, he fully understood that the deaths of demons would only strengthen the First Writer further, and Frey had absolutely no desire to allow that.
’Young Master... so you truly intend to oppose her...’
’Oppose your own mother.’
Maskith instinctively touched his chest as those thoughts crossed his mind.
There was no heartbeat there anymore.
His heart no longer existed, and his life now rested entirely within Frey’s hands.
For an old servant like him—a man utterly obsessed with the First Writer and loyal to her beyond reason—there was nothing worse than being forced to stand against her.
Ordinarily, he would have preferred death itself.
Yet this time, the one opposing her was her eldest son... Frey.
Maskith knew better than anyone how special Frey was in her eyes. She had favored him clearly above all his siblings.
Perhaps he had been the most precious child to her altogether.
And because of that, the old man chose to wait patiently instead... hoping for the right opportunity to appear.
Naturally, Frey understood those thoughts perfectly well.
But for now, he ignored them entirely and shifted his attention toward the Great One.
"How much time do you need before you finish what we agreed upon?"
The Great One pondered briefly before answering.
"Hellmond is enormous, and the number of demons here is overwhelming." he said quietly.
"I’ll need at least one hour."
He paused before adding:
"One hour will be enough for the weaker demons."
"But the stronger ones will require considerably more time... especially those who reached the upper stages of SSS rank."
Frey nodded while staring toward the distant horizon.
"That will suffice for now."
"You don’t need to concern yourself with the stronger ones."
His violet eyes glowed faintly, and in the next instant those eyes pierced through much of what Hellmond’s massive world concealed.
"...I can sense several powerful auras scattered throughout the planet."
A faint smile appeared beneath his mask.
"It seems that damned Demon King didn’t bring all of his Upper Demons into the continent with him after all."
His eyes returned to normal before he looked toward the Great One again.
"Disappear from sight and continue what you were doing."
Then Frey paused slightly before speaking once more.
"And besides..."
A faint amused smile formed beneath the mask.
"I’m starting to grow tired of calling you ’Great One of Earth.’ Don’t you have a name?"
The Great One shook his head.
"I do not."
"Even the title ’Great One of Earth’ came from your people, not from me."
"You may call me whatever you wish. I have no objections."
"Whatever I want, huh..." Frey sighed softly.
"Dealing with you was easier when you were inside Dawn’s body."
Then he casually chose the first name that came to mind.
"I’ll just call you Second Dawn."
Clear surprise appeared upon the Great One’s face before he slowly smiled with closed eyes.
"Second Dawn..."
"How strange it is to be named after a human born thousands of years after me."
He chuckled quietly before his body slowly faded away, vanishing from sight once more.
Meanwhile, Frey stretched slightly as though preparing himself for what was about to come.
"We cannot allow the Upper Demons or the Duchy of Hell to interfere with what we intend to do here."
"So..."
"I’ll personally draw their attention."
Frey had decided to fight.
Maskith, however, remained completely unaware of what was truly happening, which finally pushed him to ask:
"...May I ask what exactly we are doing here?"
"You said you wanted to recruit the demons... but how do you intend to accomplish that?"
"There’s no need for you to know." Frey answered coldly.
"Remember your place well, Maskith."
"You are merely a tool now."
"You will only know what I decide you should know... and only when you become necessary."
The old man immediately understood the meaning behind those words.
"I brought you here for an entirely different purpose." Frey continued.
"You have no role in recruiting the demons. Your task lies elsewhere."
"So sit quietly and wait obediently for your turn."
"As for me..."
A dangerous smile appeared beneath the mask.
"I think I’ll play with the Upper Demons for a while."
The moment Frey finished speaking, aura began pouring from his body violently out of nowhere.
Frey, Maskith... even the Great One of Earth—
All three of them were terrifyingly powerful beings capable of concealing their presence completely. That was why none of them had been attacked despite spending considerable time already within Hellmond.
But the moment Frey released his aura...
Everything changed.
A horrifying pressure erupted outward from him and expanded rapidly across impossible distances, intentionally making every creature in Hellmond aware of his existence.
Frey slowly ascended into the crimson sky while dark violet aura engulfed his body, announcing his arrival to the entirety of Hellmond.
And in response...
Countless demonic auras awakened.
Numerous demons rushed forth to confront him.
Almost every remaining Upper Demon appeared at terrifying speed.
And leading them—
The bearer of the Soul of Death himself...
The Sixth Upper Demon, Asmodeus, descended surrounded by overwhelming darkness.
Behind him came the Seventh and Eighth Seats.
The Blood Witch, Izalith... and the Cannibal, Yosefka.
Asmodeus possessed nothing but a face made of bone, leaving him incapable of displaying any true expression.
Izalith and Yosefka, however, were an entirely different matter.
Their faces had darkened completely, despair clearly consuming them after realizing they stood before an opponent they simply could not afford to fight.
In the past, Odin had descended upon their world, yet Agaroth had still been there to oppose him.
But now...
The Demon King was gone.
Frey looked toward them, then toward the members of the Duchy of Hell who had begun gathering as well, a mocking smile hidden beneath his mask.
"Oh, demons of Hellmond..."
"You look utterly pathetic."
His voice echoed loudly across the crimson skies, reaching every Upper Demon present.
"Your king abandoned you and left you here to die."
"There is no future left for your kind. Your end is already approaching."
Then Frey slowly extended his hand toward them, beckoning them forward.
"But..."
"I shall offer you a chance to survive."
The dark violet aura surrounding him intensified violently.
"Come at me."
"All of you."
"If even one among you succeeds in landing a single blow on me..."
"I will guarantee your freedom."