Varzath stares at his bathroom ceiling as he lies by the shallow pool’s edge. Considering the other two idiots lie on top of him, the position is far from comfortable, but at least he managed to convince them to unshackle him near the end.

“Still awake?” Sunnazoth murmurs, opening her eyelids halfway as she gives him a glance from where she’s lying against his chest.

“Don’t talk to me. I hate you right now.”

She laughs. “Don’t be a baby, it wasn’t that bad... And also, it was your precious Biranal’s doing, remember? I just followed along.”

Varzath grimaces as he glances toward Biranal’s peaceful-looking sleeping face. “Do you really think I have that short a memory? If you hadn’t screwed everything up to begin with, we’d at least have slept on the bed.”

Sunnazoth laughs again. “True enough, I suppose.”

Not a modicum of remorse, as expected.

Sunnazoth yawns. “How much time do we have left until morning?”

“A couple of minutes? Salmorol contacted me a while ago.”

“Shit… I guess we should get up, wouldn’t want to keep the others waiting.”

Damn it… Fine, he’ll just forget the previous night and pretend it never happened.

Creating several shadow tentacles, Varzath carefully raises Biranal from his chest, then drops her on the water.

Her girly, shocked scream brings a smile to his lips as he looks toward Sunnazoth next, who blinks.

“No, wait, I’m already-”

Noticing the tentacles now forming around her, she curses...

By the time Varzath finishes bathing and dressing himself, the palace and its surroundings have become unusually noisy. Since the girls have returned to their own rooms in order to get themselves ready, he is accompanied only by Sirel and Ekor, his personal maids, when the time to leave comes.

“You don’t need to look so worried,” Varzath tells them, “Even if I don’t return, Sunnazoth will take care of things. She’s not as bad as her reputation makes her out to be.”

Sirel sobs. She had been crying from the moment they arrived, and Ekor was the only one to actually help him bath and dress today.

Varzath sighs as he pats Sirel’s head, then pulls her in for a hug.

“Don’t get snot on my clothes,” he warns her, laughing softly as he does so.

As Sirel hugs him tightly and continues to cry, Varzath meets Ekor’s eyes. Unlike Sirel, she seems to be doing fairly well…

Maybe it’s all the same to her?

“Milord forgot his shoes.”

Immediately reminded of what happened the previous night, Varzath grimaces. “Demons don’t need shoes.”

Ekor sighs. “I thought I should at least try, in view of current circumstances…”

Varzath smiles at her. “Take care of Sirel, okay? She’s too nice for this world.”

Ekor’s eyes widen.

“What? You thought I didn’t know?”

Blushing slightly, Ekor smiles and curtsies. “We’ll be waiting for Milord’s safe return, no matter how long it might take.”

…Then again, maybe she just believes he’ll succeed.

Having said goodbye to Sirel and Ekor, Varzath heads through the palace toward its front entrance, greeting whoever he happens to find along the way, rather than using magic to move there instantly.

He doesn’t exactly consider himself the nostalgic type, but… He might never get to see any of them ever again.

“Attention!”

Biranal’s voice, followed by a roar, announces his arrival outside. Crossing through the entrance with unhurried steps, Varzath takes in his General Commander, in full armor and helmet, as well as Sunnazoth standing beside her while wearing one of her usual slutty outfits.

Then, his gaze sweeps over the thousands of demons beyond them, now standing to attention in the courtyard below.

Other high-ranking demons, including Sonog, Salmorol, and Zugdradak, occupy the porch as they throw many different types of gazes in his direction, before bowing or curtsying.

Zuriel is also present, still bound, as she throws daggers with her eyes in his direction… Well, considering she’s currently exposed naked before a good portion of his army, he doesn’t exactly blame her for her hatred.

Ugh. Personally, he could do without this sort of formal crap, but unfortunately, his position demands it, and as such, Varzath clears his throat before casting a basic wind spell to amplify his voice as he greets them, “Ladies, gentleman, and, I suppose, those of you who qualify as neither…”

Polite laughter spreads throughout the place as Varzath walks to stand at the porch’s edge, then stops as he crosses his hands at his back.

“As most of you might already know, a rare opportunity presents itself before us. All going according to plan, you won’t have to shed blood today, disappointing as though the idea may be to some of you… However, I expect you to be prepared for the worst. Is that clear?”

Roars, and screams… He’s glad they’re excited.

“Okay, enough. We might be moving out soon, so remain in position and don’t cause trouble.”

“Milord?”

Varzath shifts his gaze toward Sonog as the small demon approaches him. “Everything ready?” he asks, having dismissed the voice-amplifying spell.

Sonog nods. “The enemy’s position has been successfully pinpointed last night. The angels have yet to breach the Rift, but they’ll do so soon. Without our interference, they’ll be swarmed immediately… I doubt they’ll last more than a day.”

“Things are as we expected, then. Are the troops we sent them in position?”

Sonog nods. “Shall I give them the go sign?”

Since the Table wanted their soldiers so bad, Varzath made sure to send them their Horde a couple of weeks prior… And, if they’ve done their job correctly, the hastily formed army supposed to swarm their enemies upon their arrival should be about to crumble by now, having been greatly weakened by infighting.

These guys waiting in front of him are backup, in case things don’t go as planned and his own troops end up involved in the infighting they’ve secretly instigated…

“The signal has been given. Our scouts are in position. We could arrive at a moment’s notice,” Sonog says.

Varzath nods. “Then I suppose all that’s left is for us to wait.”

Normally, teleporting several thousand demons across meaningfully vast distances would be impossible, but the runes inscribed over the courtyard turn the process doable, making so they’re able to deploy troops to nearby areas so long as they have some sort of anchor for the spell at its destination; which, really, is the standard procedure when it comes to mass long-range teleport.

As such, it is convenient the angels are targeting their Domain in specific, since it means they’re close enough for their teleport network to be of use…

However, it might take a couple of hours before they receive news of how things went. Albeit boring, being prepared to move immediately is necessary in the case of a disaster, such as their spies having been rooted out or their plans discovered.

Still, Varzath is confident it won’t come to that. Demons are strong, but they’re fickle creatures, often enslaved by their own desires and therefore easily manipulated. The real problem comes with the second part of the plan, and more specifically, what happens after the is seal activated.

“…Say, Sonog, were you able to discover how long a Soul might take before reincarnating?”

“I’m afraid not, Milord.”

Varzath sighs. Well, since they already went ahead and wrecked the army supposed to stop the Seraphim hellbent on their destruction, now there’s no coming back.

Varzath glances toward Zuriel, on her knees as she stares toward the gathering of demons with visible terror in her eyes. She’s actually shaking, if you can believe it.

So dramatic.

She’ll reunite with her beloved soon enough, one way or another, while he might never see any of his again. Really, who is the one of them getting the short end of the stick here…?

The wait is filled with tension. Some of his retainers talk among themselves in hushed whispers, but most of them remain silent. Salmorol’s eyes are all but glued to him the entire time.

Speaking of which, it took a lot more than expected to convince her the plan was a good idea. It seems she’s still mad at him for keeping her out initially, even after he explained it wasn’t on purpose.

Well… This is boring. How much longer until…?

“It’s done,” Sonog says, smiling wickedly as he steps forward and meets his eyes. “The Hordes have broken off. It seems the demon sent by the Table to act as their commander managed to stop the infighting before it got out of hand, but the damage was already done. The Hordes have been ordered to return to their own Domains... Including our own troops.”

Varzath nods. “What of their main force?”

“They’re sticking around for now, but not for long, I assume, since their power alone would be unable to stop the angels’ advance. Unless they’re suicidal, they’ll run away soon, most likely intended on asking for reinforcements from their own Domains.”

Varzath snorts. “They’d take months to return. Regardless, this means the plan has been a success.”

Waving his hand, Varzath orders Biranal to dismiss the soldiers standing by, who are soon to return to their normal activities in the Domain… After all, they won’t be needed for what follows.

“It has been confirmed. They’re retreating,” Sonog says, “Milord… This is our last chance to call it off. Though we’ve already made things more difficult for ourselves, we could still fight the angels with our own forces, or use the Archangel to strike a deal and have them retreat-”

“No need. It won’t become any easier if we call it off now.”

Sonog nods, though his smile seems slightly tense as he begins to order the others around.

In the meantime, Sunnazoth approaches, smiling and meeting his gaze as she does so. “I guess this is goodbye, loser. I hope you die for real.”

“Love you too, sweety. Don’t forget to perform the ceremony when the time is right; I doubt anyone would’ve chosen you out of their own volition, so this is your only chance to become more than a doormat.”

Sunnazoth’s eye twitches, her smile freezing in place. “…Bitch.”

“Cunt.”

“Milord…”

Varzath shifts his gaze away from Sunnazoth as Salmorol and Zugdradak approach their small circle, expressions carefully devoid of emotion.

“You two make sure she doesn’t go too far,” he tells them, “By force, if needed. And Zug, you’re next on the line, so fix your shitty attitude. I know it’s fun to have them begging for your cock, but one of them will kill you one of these days, and you’ll have deserved it… But the Domain won’t. Do I make myself clear?”

The Incubus blinks, mouth hanging slightly open, then slowly nods. “Actually, I’ve been thinking I should settle down recently… It gets kinda tiring juggling so many balls at once, and I’ve been losing track of their names lately…”

As his voice trails off, he gives Varzath a strained smile, offering his fist for a fist bump, which Varzath meets with his own.

“Goodbye kiss?”

Rolling his eyes as he ignores the proposal, Varzath turns toward Salmorol.

“…Yes?” he asks after it becomes clear she won’t speak first.

Salmorol sighs. “I’d ask to go with, but I know I can’t follow where Milord is going… So I ask that Milord promise me he’ll be careful.”

“Sure,” Varzath agrees.

She narrows her eyes. “I mean it.”

“So do I,” Varzath retorts, “I have no desire to lose my life. I’ll be careful.”

Salmorol pouts, and, being unable to stop himself, Varzath pats her head, messing her hair and receiving an indignant yelp in response.

Then, laughing, he pulls her in for a kiss, causing her eyes to widen.

“…I’m sorry,” he whispers once their lips are apart, “I know you…”

“Loved Milord? Was it supposed to be some sort of secret?”

Varzath blinks, and she steps away.

“…I’ll be waiting. And Milord doesn’t need to worry, I’ll put these idiots back on track if they misbehave too much.”

“You could certainly try, pipsqueak,” Sunnazoth retorts.

Currently, Varzath would put his bets on Salmorol, were they to fight, but he doesn’t know what sort of powers Sunnazoth will receive after her Ascension… Well, he hopes it doesn’t come to that.

“Milord, we’re ready,” Sonog announces, having approached their small gathering once more, “If Milord has any last-minute words, now would be the time.”

“Er… Take care? Don’t pick too much on each other?”

The others roll their eyes.

“Just go,” Sunnazoth says, “We’ll do fine on our own.”

Varzath sighs. “Right. You’re not children, after all. And I’ll be back eventually.”

As the others step back, Biranal approaches, holding a struggling Zuriel princess carry style, which leaves the three of them in a small circle.

The dragon’s face being hidden by her helmet, Varzath can’t quite tell what she is thinking… Zuriel, on the other hand, seems scared and confused after everything she has witnessed.

“Is Milord ready?” Sonog asks.

The build-up of mana causes his skin to prickle, but Varzath doesn’t allow himself to hesitate before nodding. “It’d be a problem if they arrived without anyone to greet them properly. I’d be criticized as a poor host, and we can’t have that, now, can we?”

Sonog smiles. “Good luck, Milord,” he says, and the world around Varzath slowly bends over itself…

Appearing on a large clearing surrounded by black, leafless trees, Varzath glances at his surroundings as the vertigo of being teleported gradually fades away.

A glance over his shoulder reveals a trembling Biranal, seemingly about to bend over and vomit at any second.

Varzath snorts. “Just drop her, love. Take off your helmet if you need to.”

Biranal nods, unceremoniously dropping the Archangel as she walks toward the nearest three on unstable legs and rests her helmet against it, taking deep breaths.

Should he cast a spell to reduce her nausea? Would it even work through her resistances? Well, she should get used to being teleported sooner rather than later, in the case of an emergency…

Zuriel screams through her gag as a small, bat-like creature lands silently before them, attracting Varzath’s gaze.

“Milord! General Commander, Ma’am! Scout Xozgan reporting in, Sir! Xozgan is glad Milord was able to arrive safely, Sir!”

As the creature straightens itself, folding their wings and crossing their hands at their back, Varzath nearly laughs out loud, but manages to contain himself, nodding with a serious expression instead.

“Thank you, Xozgan. Give us a detailed report of the current situation, please.”

“Yes, Sir! All demon armies have begun retreat in earnest, Sir, having run with their tails between their legs, Sir! We have scouts positioned to make sure they’ll continue to retreat, ordered to make contact at the first sign of change, Sir!”

Well, he doubts any of them will come back at this point, but it is good to take precautions regardless… As for Xozgan’s report, he’d have taken the demon more seriously if their eyes weren’t constantly shifting in Zuriel’s direction, or more specifically, toward her exposed breasts.

“Anything else?”

“Our own troops have remained in position as ordered, Sir. They’ll be able to strike if necessary.”

“And what of the angels?”

“The sky, Sir,” Xozgan completes, somberly.

Varzath looks up. Indeed, not far from their location, a spot in Hell’s usually monochromatic sky has become deformed, having grown brighter than its surroundings as it crackles with energy.

Though it seems small from the ground, Varzath has no doubt the resulting tear will be big enough to allow for an army’s passage, once they finally manage to break through.

“…I see. Have the others remain hidden unless given the order to attack. All going according to plan, the angels should retreat without causing us any more trouble.”

Xozgan bows, eyes once more shifting toward Zuriel’s breasts before quickly moving away.

Varzath sighs. “Lords, you’re driving me crazy, just cop a feel, already!”

Xozgan’s eyes widen and he quickly steps back as though he’s been burned (at this point, Varzath is fairly certain they’re male), “T-that w-would b-be extremely inappropriate, S-Sir!”

Varzath shrugs. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Besides, he needs something to distract Zuriel from everything she heard so far; After all, she’s far from stupid, and it wouldn’t do to have her trying to signal her beloved something is wrong, even if her shackles prevent her from using magic to communicate…

Xozgan swallows. “C-can I really, Sir?”

“Be gentle,” Varzath tells him with a wink, “Think of it as extra points if you manage to make her moan.”

Having realized what is about to happen, Zuriel trashes so hard against her restrains one would think he ordered her execution.

Lords.

Rolling his eyes, Varzath turns away from the scene as he crosses his arms and watches the sky. It shouldn’t be long now.

“Feeling better?” Varzath asks once Biranal approaches a couple of moments later, seemingly having regained her composure.

She nods.

“Is the ring ready?”

She nods again.

“Good. As soon it is done, don’t hesitate to retreat. The sooner they grab their target, the lower the chance they’ll consider attacking us in spite of having completed their objective.”

“…My Lord isn’t going to change his mind.”

Varzath blinks. Her voice is rough… Has she been crying under her helmet?

“Biranal-”

She shakes her head. “It’s okay. I know… I know I have been selfish. If Hell falls… If Heaven’s armies reach us, I could always retreat to Elysium, but My Lord could not survive there for long, and neither could the others… Wanting My Lord to stay is my own selfish desire…”

Stepping forward, Varzath pulls her helmet and throws it aside, revealing Biranal’s face as she quickly averts away eyes reddened by tears.

“Idiot.”

“I…”

Varzath grabs her arm, then pulls her in for a kiss, locking their lips together.

It is bittersweet, and Varzath can taste her tears as they kiss, but Biranal does relax after a moment, pressing her body against his as though she’d be unable to stand without it being there.

“…I wish she’d shut up already.”

Varzath chuckles. “It’s not her fault things end up being this way, love. Give her a break.”

“…The more she screams, the more I want to see Xozgan sticking his dick in between them.”

Varzath laughs again. “Now you’re just being mean… It wouldn’t do to have our hostage covered in cum in front of her friends when they’ve come all this way to rescue her.”

 “…We should have him fuck her in front of them…”

“Hostage or not, they’d most definitely attack…”

Meeting his eyes, Biranal grimaces. “She’ll reunite with her beloved, while we… We might never meet again.”

“Not her fault, remember? And besides, I was the one who separated them, to begin with, so there’s some poetic justice in all of this, don’t you think?”

Releasing a sigh, Biranal finally steps away as wipes her cheeks, heads toward her helmet, picks it up, and places it over her head.

“Fuck justice. If I was strong enough… If I was strong enough, My Lord wouldn’t need to run from anybody. We could live however we wanted, and burn this cursed world to cinders if it dared challenge us.”

Justice has no place in Hell; On that much, Varzath can agree. But…

“Love, even Saendara, Queen of Dragons, can’t just do as she wants all the time. There’ll always be someone stronger, or, if not, the weak will gather together to topple the strong… Well, being strong enough to defend our own home would’ve been nice, I suppose.”

Biranal clenches her gauntlets.

“Well, you’re still young. In case the plan fails, there’s nothing saying we can’t find other ways to stop Apocalypse, such as having our pet dragon grow strong enough to strike fear in the hearts of our enemies…”

Snapping her gaze in his direction, Biranal growls, causing Varzath to laugh.

“I’m not just teasing you. Saendara herself has several Planes under her wind, last time we were there, she praised your strength personally.”

Crossing her arms, Biranal turns away. “…I see.”

“Well, don’t let it get to you. She’s old enough to think of us both as children, after all. Who knows, maybe in another millennium or two, you’ll be strong enough to stand on your own against the armies of Heaven, and we’ll all feel silly for having worried so much over nothing… Though, in that case, I suppose we’d have to prostrate at your feet and obey your every whim in exchange for protection. You could have us all be a part of your harem, serving your every desire for the rest of eternity…”

“Even… Even My Lord?”

“Well, just between the two of us, though normally I’d rather die than become a slave again, if it were you on the other side of the chain, I might reconsider it…”

“My Lord is lying. He’d fight at every step of the way, and make my existence so miserable I’d want him permanently gagged.”

Varzath laughs. Perhaps she knows him too well…

A sudden cracking noise, loud enough to be mistaken as thunder, abruptly attracts both of their gazes toward the sky.

Varzath curses. It seems their time has come to an end.

“Xozgan, you might want to hide before they spot you,” Varzath tells the small bat-like demon, who plops his lips away from Zuriel’s nipple, wide-eyed, then nods and takes flight, quickly disappearing from view.

“…My Lord?” Biranal asks, voice strained.

Varzath smiles. “Don’t worry, it’ll work. Just stand behind her looking menacing, and they’ll think twice before charging us… Though, her wings are a problem.”

Biranal, who was already heading toward the fallen, teary-eyed Archangel, stops and snaps her gaze in his direction. “…What?”

“I mean, I was planning on having her as a chair for the moment they arrive, but it won’t work since her wings…”

Under Biranal’s incredulous gaze, Varzath allows his voice to trail off.

“You have to admit it’d have left an impression.”

“If My Lord wishes for them to charge us even after his death, then just use her face. It’d make even more of an impression.”

“Hey, you were the one who suggested having her raped in view of them not a minute ago. Besides, I need them to take this seriously, or there’s no point to any of t-”

Another loud, rumbling noise reaches them, and Varzath barely has time to curse again as he casts a defensive wind spell before an airstream strong enough to blow away some of the trees around follows it…

The angels have descended.