Sovereign of the Ashes

Thorstein’s vision of breaking out of Faeloria was losing support among the demons of third-floor Purgatory.

The new generation of demons had embraced the values of the Prime Materia Plane.

They had no understanding of the Astral Realm that the older demons spoke of.

To them, escaping Faeloria was not the goal. Their only desire was to storm out of Purgatory, massacre their way through the Prime Materia Plane, and revel in the bloodshed.

It was unclear whether the demons had fallen—or if they had simply been assimilated.

The only demons still loyal to Thorstein were his old subordinates—those who had arrived in Faeloria over two hundred thousand years ago—as well as their direct bloodline descendants.

In Purgatory, aside from Thorstein, two other veteran demons wielded the power of greater deities: Gerald the Twisted Blood Eye, and Turrod the War Axe Molten Demon.

Both were Rank Six demons who had once wreaked havoc across Faeloria, their names nearly as fearsome as Thorstein’s.

But like him, they too were experiencing the slow and irreversible loss of life force.

Today, neither of these two greater deities—or demons—were even present in the Bloodwar Hall.

One of them stayed on the first floor of Purgatory, while the other on the second.

Or rather than “stay”, it would be more accurate to say they were slumbering.

Unless Purgatory faced total annihilation, those two demons would not awaken.

Slumbering was the only way to slow the depletion of their life force and extend their dwindling lifespans—just as the ancient deities that were slumbering in the far north of Faeloria.

Aside from these two greater demons, a handful of Rank Five demons remained loyal to the Bloodwar Monarch.

Most of them were gathered in the hall, except for the strongest, who were already in deep slumber as the two Rank Six demons.

Their life force was depleting at an even faster rate. At best, they had fifty thousand years left before they perished entirely.

Those present in the hall were all pureblooded demons—the last remnants of the old generation.

The demon clan did not rely solely on abyssal worms for evolution and growth.

High-ranking demons could reproduce through bloodline fusion, allowing them to produce superior offspring.

Thanks to these ancient demons and the newly born purebloods, Thorstein’s will remained firmly upheld.

Without them, the Bloodwar Monarch’s ambition to lead the demons out of Faeloria would have crumbled long ago.

A tall Rank Five female demon with blood-red skin approached the bloody throne.

In a calm, consoling voice, she said, “The newer generation knows nothing of the Astral Realm’s former splendor, nor do they understand the blood feuds of our Hell-born kin. There is no need to let their ignorance anger you, Father.”

She was Thorstein’s daughter.

In addition to inheriting his bloodline, she also carried a significant amount of Succubus blood.

Her name was Anastasia Karenina—a child born after Thorstein’s arrival in Faeloria.

It was likely that the Bloodwar Monarch had chosen to father a child to ensure that his legacy endured.

Since both of her parents were pureblooded demons, Anastasia Karenina was a true pureblood as well.

When she was still in her egg, she had absorbed the memories of her parents.

Thus, she knew of the Astral Realm’s former glory and also “Hell”—the plane that demons once called home.

So of course, she knew of their eternal enemies!

The angels of the Radiant Celestials!

Every pureblooded demon in Purgatory longed for revenge against the beings that had slaughtered their ancestors.

An old Rank Five demon came forward and muttered, “I wonder what those Justice League gods are scheming this time. Could they truly be preparing for another Holy War? And the Dark Lady as well... It’s surprising that she would assist the God of Justice this time...”

Its wrinkled skin was covered in loose scales.

Unlike most demons, this one was unusually short, standing less than three meters tall.

In the huge Bloodwar Hall, it looked almost like a shrinking, withered mass of flesh.

Yet its tail was absurdly long, stretching a full five meters, bare and smooth along its length.

At first glance, this Rank Five demon did not seem suited for combat.

Even Levon Thorstein’s daughter, in her demon form, stood over four meters tall.

Yet within the Great Hall, no one dared to underestimate this old demon.

Because this was Thorstein’s most trusted aide—one whose importance, in some ways, surpassed even Gerald and Turrod, who knew only savage slaughter.

It was also one of the few remaining veteran demons who had not fallen into a long slumber.

Perhaps it had survived so long precisely because it always lingered in the background rather than throwing itself into battle.

Despite its withered appearance, this old demon might outlive even Thorstein.

Known as the “Cunning Demon”, it was Thorstein’s chief strategist and one of the few strategists among the Purgatory demons.

Alongside Thorstein and the other veterans, this Rank Five elder had played a crucial role in the establishment of the three-level Purgatory.

As soon as the Cunning Demon spoke, silence fell over the great hall.

Even among demons, who prided themselves on their arrogance and ruthlessness, there were enemies that unsettled them.

Once, it was the Radiant Celestials. Now, it was Faeloria’s native deities.

All this while, the veteran demons had clung to the belief that they would one day return to reclaim what was lost.

But many rational demons knew the bitter truth—that dream was growing more distant.

Not only did the Radiant Celestials remain as powerful as ever, but the demon race itself had weakened, a shadow of what it had been a hundred thousand years ago.

How could they even speak of reclaiming what was lost, when they could not even leave this world?

A low, cold voice shattered the silence.

“If the native Faelorian deities truly wish to wage another Holy War and annihilate our kind...”

Levon Thorstein tightened his grip on the throne’s armrest, his crimson eyes burning with fierce determination.

“...Then before I die, I will take the God of Justice with me.”

No one doubted the Bloodwar Monarch’s resolve.

If he could no longer lead the demons to victory, then he would at least sacrifice himself in one final act of defiance!

From this perspective, the demon race was not merely a symbol of evil, chaos, and destruction.

At least, in the eyes of his own people, Levon Thorstein was a ruthless hero.

...One living out his twilight years.

Under the crimson glow of Purgatory, Anastasia pressed herself against her father’s solid chest, burying her sorrow within his embrace.