Hawk Mama moved fast, and the group quickly drew near Edinburgh.
Ten years ago the Seven Deadly Sins had broken Edinburgh, but what they saw now looked nothing like anyone's mories.
Before they even got close, a mountain of purple, crystal-like material rose into view.
The surroundings weren't in good shape either; Stigma and the Demon Clan had already begun fighting here.
The villages and towns around Edinburgh had been reduced to rubble in the flas of war.
Staring at the scorched earth, Charles couldn't help feeling the irony. Holy war, huh! A war is a war—ugly through and through, full of slaughter and ambition.
The brutal Demon Clan were indeed the chief culprits, but that banner of "justice" the goddesses waved was hardly clean.
Charles loathed this kind of war. Knowing there were forebears who fought to protect, seeing goddesses who waged war for their own ambition only made him more disgusted.
He shook off the tangled thoughts and refocused on their surroundings.
You could tell how fierce the fighting had been just by looking around.
Word was Monspeet of the Ten Commandnts and "Tornado" Sariel of the Four Archangels had had a massive battle here, flattening several peaks in the process.
From up high on Fire Dragon's Wings, the terrain around them lay in full view.
"Looks like we've been spotted!"
Charles descended as he spoke, warning everyone that the enemy had arrived.
He didn't need to say it—everyone had already noticed the growing black dots on the horizon: flocks of flying demons.
Edinburgh had been refitted by the Demon King into a fortress of war; even the periter teed with demons, the main force in the previous battles.
Now that demon army marshaled against all of Stigma was concentrating before the Seven Deadly Sins.
Magic flared everywhere as the entire horde began a bombardnt.
Hellblaze spewed from every demon's mouth, streams rging into a tidal sea of fire ant to incinerate them all at once.
Everyone had donned armor for the occasion. Amid the clink of tal, liodas stepped forward and drew Lostvayne from his back.
"All right, all right, all right—let's say hello first!"
He leaped out and slashed into the oncoming inferno.
The instant the blade touched the flas, they vanished into thin air, then rebounded in an even fiercer surge straight back at the demons.
They had no ti to react before the Hellblaze swallowed them—whole swaths were cleared in a blink.
That was the Demon Clan for you—the gap between high-ranking demons and the common sort was like two different species.
Not just in power; it felt like there was a gulf in intellect too.
Any high-ranking demon worth the na wouldn't try a magic attack on liodas here.
What happened next, though, made everyone sober up.
The reflected flas didn't spread far. The air in the distance rippled like water, as if leading to another space beyond, and every lick of fire slipped into it—none passed beyond the wavering boundary.
"So that's the spatial distortion. Gotta admit, that's sothing."
Charles spoke up, and the others grew more cautious.
That had been a barrage from hundreds of demons, doubled by liodas; it had enough force to level a city. Yet a single layer of twisted space had blocked it completely.
The spatial distortion had to be the work of lascula of Faith.
No wonder she could vie for the title of the Demon Realm's greatest sorcerer after Gowther of Selflessness died—she'd set an infuriating barrier.
Maybe because her true form was a serpent that gained magic from the Demon Realm's miasma—unlike other demons, she hadn't been born powerful—so she poured herself into sorcery.
In that light, lascula was almost inspirational.
While his thoughts wandered, Charles didn't slow. In an instant he appeared beside liodas and flung out searing flas.
The darkness coiling around liodas sizzled on contact and burned away to nothing.
Speak of the devil—lascula, whom Charles had just been thinking about, had already shown up and laid a trap for liodas. Charles had sensed the fluctuation in ti and moved.
A woman with pale violet hair, her body wrapped in ribbon-like bands of darkness, dropped from midair.
"I thought it was those idiot goddesses again! My, my—what an unexpected guest!"
lascula's default look was that of a very beautiful woman, but perhaps the sight of liodas had overexcited her; a trace of her true form slipped through.
The corners of her mouth yawned grotesquely toward her cheeks, and a forked, slender tongue flicked between bared fangs.
liodas raised his blade, voice cold. "lascula, I'll only say this once. Hand over your Commandnt and dispel the distortion. Do that, and I'll let you live."
lascula's serpentine features surfaced in full under her rage, a violet poison mist even venting from her.
"Big words! You're just a renegade. You should be the one handing over your life! Oh—almost forgot, thanks to His Majesty the Demon King's curse, you can't die, can you?
Serves you right, sinking forever in a pit of pain! Speaking of which—how far has that woman's mory recovered? Is she about to…!"
"Shut up!"
liodas's sore spot had been stabbed, and he was afraid her words would affect Elizabeth, so he charged in and slashed at lascula.
But his blade cut only a phantom; the real lascula appeared behind him.
"Wait!"
A bellow cut both of them off as Galand dropped from the sky with his war spear, smashing a deep crater into the ground.
The two lines of Galand's eyes all but spewed fire as he glared at Charles.
"So it was you, you bastard—how dare you steal my Commandnt! I'll make you pay with your life for this humiliation!"
Charles looked bored. "You again? I'm not interested."
Galand nearly exploded. His armor creaked under the surge of magic.
"I've changed my mind. I won't kill you—I'll keep you alive in Purgatory and make you taste endless agony!"
Charles curled his lip. If the Commandnt of Truth were still in him, he wondered if a boast like that would trigger it.
Just as he considered humoring Galand a bit, a shadow swelled.
Escanor, in his burly dayti form, vaulted straight off the Boar Hat. Divine Axe Rhitta crashed down on Galand's spear as he hurriedly raised it.
The spear bent under the blow; Galand himself was hamred into the ground by sheer force.
"The Captain and Sir Charles are far too slow. Soone of this level should just be felled cleanly."
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