Chapter 35: The First Strike: War Ignites

The sky over Nyzareth churned with dark clouds, crackling with violet lightning. The ground trembled beneath the march of Azrath's army, their collective war cries shaking the very fabric of the demon realm.

From atop a jagged obsidian peak, Lucian surveyed the battlefield. His dark cloak billowed in the wind as his piercing gaze locked onto the towering fortress of Rhaizel, the Demon Lord of Ten Thousand Blades.

"Haizel is a warlord who sees strength as the only truth," Azrath said, standing beside him. "He will not surrender. He will fight until either he or his enemy is slain."

Lucian's lips curled into a smirk. "Then we'll break him."

With a slow raise of his hand, the air around him trembled. A deep pulse of darkness radiated from his body, distorting the space around him. Then, with a single motion, he swung his sword downward.

A massive arc of black energy erupted from his blade, slicing through the air with a deafening roar. It split the clouds, cleaved through mountains, and obliterated the first layer of Haizel's fortress in a single strike.

Screams of demons filled the air as the shockwave toppled the outer walls, sending countless soldiers into the abyss below. The lava rivers around the citadel boiled violently, reacting to the sheer force of Lucian's attack.

From within the collapsing fortress, a deep, thunderous laugh echoed across the battlefield.

"You dare bring war to my doorstep?!"

A massive explosion erupted from the ruins, sending a fiery shockwave outward. From the flames emerged Haizel, his enormous figure clad in blackened steel, his crimson greatsword pulsating with a deadly glow.

Behind him, countless spectral blades hovered in the air, forming a swirling storm of death. Each one carried the weight of a thousand battles, forged from the souls of warriors long fallen.

Haizel's piercing golden eyes locked onto Lucian. A warlord recognizing a worthy foe.

"I do not know who you are, but you have just made the greatest mistake of your existence."

Lucian chuckled. "I've made no mistakes. I'm here to take what's mine."

And with that, the war truly began.

The Battlefield Erupts

With a single stomp, Haizel sent out a shockwave that split the earth. Massive jagged spikes of obsidian shot up from the ground, impaling hundreds of Azrath's demons instantly.

Lucian dodged effortlessly, flickering through the battlefield like a shadow. He appeared right in front of Haizel, their swords clashing in a brilliant explosion of sparks.

The impact shattered the surrounding terrain, sending debris and molten rock flying.

Valkrion, the Crimson Inferno, let out a mighty roar from above. The sky turned red as the dragon unleashed a cataclysmic wave of hellfire, incinerating hundreds of Rhaizel's warriors in an instant.

But the Demon Lord simply laughed.

Rhaizel raised his hand, and the spectral blades shot forward. Each one moved with the speed of a falling star, targeting Lucian with deadly precision.

Lucian twisted his body mid-air, weaving through the barrage. With a flick of his wrist, a wave of darkness erupted from his blade, consuming the spectral weapons in an instant.

"Not bad," Haizel admitted. "But you'll have to do better!"

With a mighty swing, he unleashed a crescent-shaped shockwave that tore through mountains in the distance. The very air screamed as the attack closed in on Lucian.

Lucian extended his hand.

A dark vortex formed in his palm, swallowing the shockwave into nothingness.

Then he vanished.

Haizel barely had time to react before Lucian appeared behind him, his blade crackling with unfathomable energy.

Lucian whispered, "You're too slow."

And then he struck.

A single slash.

The force of the attack split the sky in two, creating a rift that extended beyond the horizon. The very fabric of the demon realm trembled under Lucian's power.

Haizel's armor cracked, blood trickling from his chest. He stumbled back, staring at Lucian in shock.

For the first time in his existence, he felt fear.

The Other Demon Lords Take Notice

Far beyond the battlefield, deep within the other Demon Lords' territories, the effects of the battle could be felt.

In the Shadowspire Citadel, a dark, winged figure watched from atop his throne. Vaelgor, the Demon Lord of Eternal Night, tapped his fingers against the armrest, his crimson eyes gleaming with interest.

"A human?" he muttered. "No… something much worse."

Across the frozen wastelands of Nyzareth, a towering giant clad in icy armor looked up at the splitting sky. Oryx, the Frostborn Tyrant, let out a deep growl.

"This… is no ordinary war," he rumbled.

In the Bloodfire Catacombs, a pale-skinned woman draped in crimson silk observed the battle through a swirling pool of blood. Lilith, the Scarlet Enchantress, licked her lips.

"How… fascinating," she whispered. "Perhaps it's time I chose a side."

The war had only just begun, but every Demon Lord now knew that something—or someone—had arrived to change the very balance of power in the demon realm.

And none of them would stand idly by.

A New King in the Making

Lucian stood tall amidst the burning ruins of Haizel's fortress. The Demon Lord of Ten Thousand Blades knelt before him, his once-proud form drenched in blood.

"You are strong,"Haizel admitted. "Stronger than any I have faced."

Lucian's expression remained cold. "You have two choices. Swear your allegiance to me, or perish like the others."

Haizel hesitated, his pride clashing with his instincts. But then he looked into Lucian's crimson eyes, eyes that held the weight of something beyond comprehension.

This was not a man.

This was a force of nature.

A being destined to rule.

Haizel slowly lowered his head.

"I swear my loyalty… My King."

And with that, the first Demon Lord had fallen.

But the war was far from over.

Because the others would not submit so easily.

The fires of war had only just begun to spread.

Smoke and ash swirled in the air as Lucian stood atop the ruins of Haizel's fortress, his crimson eyes scanning the battlefield. Around him, the corpses of demons lay scattered, their twisted forms frozen in expressions of horror.

Before him, Haizel knelt, his blackened armor cracked, his body battered but still unbroken.

The once-mighty Demon Lord of Ten Thousand Blades had fallen—not in death, but in submission.

"I swear my loyalty… My King."

Lucian said nothing at first. The weight of those words hung heavy in the air, their meaning more profound than any battle.

Haizel had ruled through war, his power unquestioned, his strength absolute. And yet, before Lucian, he had bent the knee.

A tremor of dark energy pulsed from Lucian's hand, reaching out like a spectral chain. It coiled around Haizel, binding him in an oath that no demon could break.

From this moment forward, Haizel's very existence belonged to Lucian.

"Rise," Lucian commanded. "Your war is not over yet."

Haizel clenched his fists, his golden eyes burning with the fire of newfound purpose.

"As you command, my King."

From the shadows, Azrath watched in silence, his wings folded behind him. His demonic gaze flickered between Lucian and Haizel, satisfaction gleaming in his infernal eyes.

"One demon lord down…" Azrath murmured. "But the others will not surrender so easily."

Lucian smirked. "Then we'll teach them what it means to defy me."

Demon Lords Stir—The War Reaches Their Doors

Far from the battlefield, in the shadowed recesses of the Abyss, the remaining Demon Lords gathered.

Seated upon thrones of ruin, ice, and flame, they watched the events unfold through arcane projections that twisted and bled with chaotic energy.

Lucian's domination of Haizel had sent shockwaves through the demon realm.

The first to speak was Vaelgor, the Demon Lord of Eternal Night. Cloaked in shadows, his glowing crimson eyes narrowed as he observed Lucian's rise.

"A mortal turned conqueror…" His voice was as smooth as silk, yet carried the weight of the void itself. "Curious. And dangerous."

Across the chamber, Oryx, the Frostborn Tyrant, grunted. His massive, armored frame pulsed with ancient power, frost creeping from his very breath.

"He is no mere mortal," Oryx growled. "I have seen the way the shadows bend to him. This one… he is something far worse."

A melodic laugh echoed through the chamber.

"Perhaps," whispered Lilith, the Scarlet Enchantress, draped in crimson silk. She ran a slender finger along the edge of her obsidian goblet, filled with the blood of lesser demons. "Or perhaps he is an opportunity."

"An opportunity?" Vaelgor scoffed. "He threatens everything we have built!"

Lilith's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Or he may unmake it all, and in the ruins, we may rebuild something far grander…"

Vaelgor clenched his fists. "I will not sit idly by and watch this invader claim what is ours!" His voice shook the chamber, the shadows bending to his fury.

Oryx's deep voice rumbled like an avalanche. "Then we crush him."

Lilith chuckled. "You make it sound so easy. But if Haizel fell, do you truly believe he will be so simple to defeat?"

Silence.

Then, from the farthest corner of the chamber, a slow, deliberate voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"You are all fools," said Dakaroth, the Lord of Chains. His glowing golden eyes gleamed in the darkness, his form coiled in shifting metal bindings that pulsed with dark energy.

Vaelgor turned to him. "Then what do you suggest?"

Dakaroth smiled, his fanged teeth glinting. "We do not fight him. We make him fight us."

The room stilled.

Lilith raised a delicate brow. "Go on."

Dakaroth's voice dripped with wicked amusement. "This so-called conqueror has made the first move. Let him exhaust himself against us. Let him march through war after war until he believes he is unstoppable. And then…"

His chains tightened, an eerie chorus of metal-on-metal echoing through the chamber.

"…we show him the true depths of the abyss."

Oryx grunted. "You assume we will not fall like Haizel."

Dakaroth's smile widened. "Then don't."

The room descended into silence once more.

Then, one by one, the Demon Lords made their decision.

The war had begun.

And Lucian would not walk away unscathed.

The March Continues—Lucian's Next Target

Back on the battlefield, Lucian stood before his gathered forces. Behind him, Haizel stood as his first conquered king, his once-defiant army now standing among Lucian's ranks.

The fortress was his. The first piece of the demon realm had fallen to his rule.

But Lucian's gaze was already set on the next target.

"Azrath," he said, his voice carrying the weight of an emperor. "Who is the next to fall?"

Azrath smirked. "Oryx, the Frostborn Tyrant. He rules the Frozen Wastes of Nyzareth, where blizzards rage eternal, and even demons freeze to death."

Lucian's smirk deepened. "Then we burn his kingdom to the ground."

Haizel, now bound by his oath, spoke. "Oryx is no fool. He is a beast of war, and his army is relentless. Frostborn demons know no fear."

Lucian stepped forward, his very presence warping the air around him. His crimson aura pulsed, casting an eerie glow against the shattered ruins.

"Then we teach them fear."

With that, the march to the Frozen Wastes began.

The next battle loomed.

And with it, the war would consume the demon realm whole.