The daemons’ presence seemed to resonate with the hallucinogens, intensifying the pressure on the five camps. Camps, sort of. Von Skoll, Technocrats, Kars, Bjorn, and Kilian. Of the five, Kars’ group was no doubt the strongest. Strengthened by Klaus’ Throne Blood, the Crystal Lord Armors now approached a quasi-Exarch tier. And since those 300 were dispatched to retrieve Anke from Exarch-level hands, it went without saying that not any Exarch could deter them.

If not for his deathly loyal and immortal legionaries forming a barrage, Urag would have been forced to give Anke up. Next came Kilian’s group, with several Exarch-tier magi, and a legion of Fehl Nobles. Bjorn, who empowered by the Imperial Academy’s Dra Reactor could now rival a mid-tier Exarch in brute force, but lacked the matching Dra Control. The Technocrats who lacked Exarch-tier magi, and the von Skolls who came without solid numbers. For once, the imperial family’s members experienced the feeling of standing at the bottom of the food chain. But on this occasion, no one was in the mood to mock them.

“Hahahaha! Hahahaha! Hahahaha!”

Frenzied laughters came from the technocrats and von Skoll groups as several of their members lost their minds to the Fortress’ hallucinogens and crawled toward invisible masters and mistresses. Watching her troops fall to the profane lair’s tricks didn’t erase Esther’s smile. On the contrary, it never looked more dazzling.

The 600 corrupt daemons stretched out their hands, making the dozens of collapsing men fly toward them. Unable and unwilling to resist, they landed before the daemons, and without an ounce of restraint, hugged and licked their new masters’ thighs. This bleak sight awoke all to the severity of the situation. Some considered taking the way out, but the portal closed behind them, preventing departures and new entrants alike.

“If the voice is to be trusted, behind those 600 lies the door to the 13 zones. Infighting at this juncture serves no purpose. Kilian, armored giant, why don’t we temporarily join hands to cleave open a path out of this shithole,” Ayden stepped out of the von Skoll ranks and offered both Kilian and Bjorn. Now an Archon and equipped with the von Skoll Dynasty’s Crown Prince Armor, Ayden eclipsed most top-level Archons. 

But the situation before him wasn’t something Archons could solve. In the von Skolls’ camp, only Hanns could deploy Exarch-tier strength. To avoid getting gang-raped by an army of lust-oriented daemons, Ayden was more than willing to compromise. However, their replies crushed his hopes.

“You are not necessary,” Bjorn stated. Kilian just flashed Ayden a “looking forward to your death” smile, then shifted his attention back to the 600 daemons. Unlike the daemons living in the 13 zones, those 600 had been trapped as gatekeepers for tens of thousands of years.

Driven mad by boredom, they now only lived to sate their base cravings, and saw the new entrants as a god-given feast. Spreading their infernal wings, the 600 lunged Kilian’s group—turning into purple streaks of light around which Arcane Circles flashed.

At the forefront, Kilian raised his right hand, and the Distortion form of his Eye of Fehl kicked in.

“Aversion Field,” Kilian whispered, and though they initially seemed to aim at his group, the hurtling daemons scattered toward the von Skoll and Technocrat camps—clawing at the nearest dazed magus they could get their hands on.

“Ladies, let’s go.” While dreary screams echoed at his back, Kilian held Lena and Eleonora’s hands, then stepped forward. A formless path opened before him, a path on which those he didn’t approve of ended up shoveled against the walls. If seeing Tamara in Kilian’s grasp bothered him, Bjorn didn’t show it, and taking a more brutal stance, rushed toward the purple orb.

“How conceited,” getting trapped in a melee with hordes of lust daemons competing for human booty in a narrow hallway didn’t make Ayden’s heart particularly excited. But while he assumed that since Bjorn dared come alone, he must have the strength to face unexpected challenges—that speed burst still startled him.

In this generation of human magi, since when did he start falling behind?

“Uncle, we can’t afford to get tangled up with daemons. The strong follow, the weak stay behind, let’s go,” Ayden ordered and Hanns approved. Too fast for the human eye to follow, the leading von Skolls’ hands moved in mysterious gestures, and amber-colored circles flashed around them.

“Fourth Circle Spell: Nuclear Flare!”

“Fourth Circle Spell: Fractal Discharge!”

“Fourth Circle Spell: Radiation Overload!”

“Fifth Circle Spell: Thermonuclear Blast!”

Without a care for the consequences, Ayden, Tristan, Estrella and Hanns each unleashed their strongest spells—triggering a succession of wide-ranging nuclear disasters that reduced many of the surrounding daemons and technocrats into ashes. However, knowing that the fehls would instantly reform, the four rushed after Kilian’s group—which had already stepped into the orb.

Likewise, the 300 Crystal Lords bombarded their way through the fehl troops, ignoring the daemons’ screams of delight to step into the purple orb. When only she remained, Esther snapped her fingers, and as if suddenly awakened from eons of madness, the daemons stopped their reckless torment of the abandoned magi to kneel at half-eldar’s feet.

…

Through the Eye of Revelation, Kilian could see that the purple orb was nothing more than a teleportation device setup to rift the contenders to the various zones. However, in her grand perversion, Ashera ensured unity and equilibrium.

Thus, Kilian, Lena, Anke, Tamara, and Urag, all landed in the same spot. Eleonora and the Legion, however, were no longer in their ranks.

A city built in stones of an immaculate white now surrounded the party. Fresh air, apparently devoid of the previous pollution greeted their noses. But recalling where they stood, none dared let the appearances swindle them.

Human-looking men and women dressed in stainless white robes crossed the streets. Without exception, each had a jug of wine tied to their waist, and a necklace of golden grapes around their neck.

Above Kilian’s group members, light-green bars with “100” written at the top, took shape. And again, Ashera’s voice echoed in the party’s mind.

“Congratulations, you got Zone 13 and the Bacchanalia.”

…

At that time, Eleonora appeared in a dark cavern lit only by the extreme clash between a purple-skinned daemoness and 12 Fehl Lords. The winged daemoness’ face snatched all of Eleonora’s attention, and confused, she blurted:

“Ashera?”