WA-11
Waregough Archipelago
Gledea Northern Coast
August 6th
531st Divine Year
Arthur and Evan sat along the coasts of Gledea, watching as the moon cast a pale glow over the Waregough Archipelago.
The islands, numbered WA-01 through WA-105, dotted the northern coast of Gledea like scattered stones.
Far above the archipelago, beyond the planet’s atmosphere and the sharp eyes of the Aramisian god Kings, was Jamie, who scanned the islands below.
He snapped his fingers and the ambient cosmic energy moved on his command, blanketing over the entirety of Gledea like a veil and covering the demon soldiers who were gathering.
"It’s not interference unless you get caught."—Arthur had joked earlier, and Jamie was more than confident no one could ever catch him.
The plan was simple enough in theory: teleport millions of demons directly onto the islands, surround them with Barron’s naval fleet, and hit the Aramisians hard and fast before they even knew what was happening.
Ger’s disciple was hiding sowhere on WA-03, the island wrapped in a maze of similarly shaped land masses.
Their enemies had filled the waters around the islands with divinity-infused crystals, effectively creating holy water that would sap the strength of any demons who ca in contact with it.
It was a deterrent, but not nearly enough to stop what was about to unfold.
Alvey, Barron and McEnda had spent hours hamring every detail of the plan, from air raids to naval strikes and the movents of the ground troops.
Now, it was ti to see it all in action.
"Let’s begin."
Arthur, who was seated on the coast of this island raised a brow when he sensed the ambient cosmic energy concentration increase rapidly and he got to his feet.
He looked to the sky and saw the ginormous mass of cosmic spatial energy that descended from above like a waterfall, bathing the continent of Gledea in its imperceptible glow.
With barely any effort, Jamie teleported the millions of Gozonian demons across space. They appeared on the islands like shadows materializing from the night, with no warning, no surge of magic.
Just sudden, seamless arrivals.
One mont, the moonlight was glinting off the calm waters surrounding the archipelago, and in the next, that light vanished, swallowed by a wave of demons.
On WA-03, where Ger’s disciple was hiding, entire divisions of soldiers appeared out of thin air. They were ready, weapons drawn, their eyes filled with a thirst for battle.
The other islands were not spared either.
Tens of millions, seemingly out of nowhere, appearing in the streets, the military bases, and even the quiet residential areas.
They were everywhere at once. No warning. No ti to react. Panic hit the Aramisian defenders like a sledgehamr.
As Jamie worked his magic, the space between Barron’s naval fleet and the Archipelago shortened and the ships imdiately appeared within the range of the Archipelago’s radars.
Leading the charge was the Triton’s Ark, sothing far too large to conceal from their radars.
Upon detecting the Ark, the first instinct of the Aramisians on WA-100 was to raise the alarm. SOS ssages flew out from WA-100, spreading across the islands to the north and south.
But with every ssage sent, the reply was the sa: ’We’re under attack too!’
Unfortunately, they hadn’t seen anything yet.
The sky over the archipelago lit up as Gozonian airships descended like hawks on their prey, raining missiles on the Aramisian defences.
Explosions rocked the islands as the first wave of anti-divinity missiles shot toward their targets, detonating with earth-shaking force.
The Aramisians were caught off guard. Soldiers scrambled from their barracks, alarms blaring in a chaotic symphony.
But before they could even organize a proper defence, the demons were already on them, charging through the streets of the military cities that dotted WA-03.
Barron’s navy, anwhile, unleashed a barrage of demonic energy shells from the sea, their cannons lighting up the night like a fireworks display.
Inside one of the Aramisian command centres on WA-03, a group of officers watched in horror as their screens flickered with reports of the sudden demon invasion.
Each report from the other islands confird the worst—the Gozonians had deployed at least ten million demons per island.
They couldn’t understand it. How had the Gozonians done this? How had they mobilized such a massive force and caught the Aramisians completely unaware?
So many questions, and so few answers.
◇ ◇ ◇
Far above the planet, on the natural satellite that lit up the night sky, the god Kings of the Aramis faction looked on in shock.
They’d imdiately sensed the disturbance as they had the Archipelago closely, wary of any demonic interference.
Now their worst nightmare was unfolding and they couldn’t understand the heads or tails of it.
"How are they doing this? How are they hiding from us?"
One of the god Kings slamd his hand on a table and pulverized it as he shouted, but the others were just as confused.
"Tsk...!"
Without hesitation, he roused his divinity, intending to seal the space around Waregough to prevent any more teleportations.
But before he could act, the room suddenly grew cold.
"What’s up, divine fuckers?"
"?!"
Turning around, the god King t eyes with Xagthor Valren, the ’Demon King of Frost’, and not too far from him was McEnda II.
Imdiately, his eyes narrowed, and he cast a sharp glance around the room. The last ti these two Demon Kings had appeared unexpectedly, they hadn’t co on their own—they were brought by soone.
He assud the sa this ti, and he wasn’t wrong.
Standing before the de facto leader of the Aramisian god Kings was none other than the detestable Demon King of the Void.
"Well, Hello there. Wonderful evening, don’t you think?"
Jamie’s voice carried a casual tone, though it dripped with condescension. The god Kings glared hatefully at Jamie, but before they could say anything, the man continued.
"You’re not going anywhere, and you’re not going to do anything.
You’ll just have to watch the show those little kids cooked up."
As he spoke, Jamie casually released a fraction of his power—his void power.
The effects were imdiate and terrifying.
The very fabric of space-ti around him began to disappear, like how pencil markings disappeared under an eraser.
The light filling the room began to bend unnaturally around him the god Kings, each wielding fragnted Ruler Authorities, understood what was happening.
As beings in tune with the fundantal workings of the universe, they could sense the low-level errors in the universe’s working system Jamie was causing just by releasing his power.
A single bead of cold sweat rolled down the cheek of the god King standing closest to him. The realization hit them all: even with their combined power, they were staring into a force that could completely erase their very existence.
And Jamie wasn’t even trying.
The god Kings exchanged glances, their frustration clear, but there was nothing they could do.
Jamie’s presence, the sheer overwhelming pressure of his void energy, made it impossible for them to act.
They were being forced to sit back and witness the destruction of their forces.
◇ ◇ ◇
Back on the islands, the battle was raging like planned.
The Aramisians tried to mount a defence, but they were hopelessly outmatched. The elent of surprise held by the Gozonians, plus their anti-divinity weapons enabled them to tear through Aramisian ranks like wildfire.
The Ships closed in around the various islands of the Waregough Archipelago, and it wasn’t just any fleet—it was Barron Agriker’s fleet, the Demon Admiral of legend.
His Vice Admirals stood at the helms of the ships, watching the chaos and giving out orders accordingly.
The sight of them sent chills down the spines of even the most battle-hardened Aramisian soldiers. They were surrounded, outnumbered, and clearly out-planned.
There was no ti to ask questions, no ti to figure out how it had co to this. The Aramisian soldiers had only two options: fight or die.
On WA-50 and below, Aramisian forces began to mobilize, scrambling to organize so kind of counteroffensive.
SOS ssages continued to pour in from the islands, now addressed to the mainland forces, begging for reinforcents.
But the Aramisians didn’t know about the line of Transcendent Demons stationed on the mainland of Gledea, waiting to intercept any forces that attempted to respond.
The mainland would offer no help.
But the real crisis for the Aramisians was unfolding on WA-03.
This island was the reason for this entire attack as it was where Ger’s disciple, Kalon, —Arthur’s true target—was located.
The man who held the last remaining piece of knowledge about the creation of the Fake Divines. The entire experint, the culmination of years of secretive research and experintation, now rested on this one person’s shoulders.
And there was a problem: Kalon wasn’t in any condition to be moved.
To understand the full reason for this, we need to go back in ti a bit.
◇ ◇ ◇
The creation of Fake Divines was a secret kept tightly by the Aramisians.
In the entire Orithyia Galaxy, they were the only ones capable of creating Fake Divines like this and the god Kings behind them had made sure everything was on a tight leash.
Only three people had ever known the full process: Ger’s master, Zebas, who had created the first generation of Fake Divines, Ger himself, who had taken over after his master was killed by Sigesi, and Ger’s disciple, Kalon—the man who was now being hunted by Arthur.
The process of creating Fake Divines wasn’t just about infusing humans with divine factors. It was far more intricate.
While there were other scientists and researchers who assisted Zebas and Ger, they only held fragnted information. There were procedures, formulas, and key knowledge only Zebas, Ger, and Kalon possessed, and only they knew how to apply them.
Kalon was the last key. Zebas was dead, and as far as the Aramisians knew, Ger was dead as well—killed by Arthur when he attacked Duskhand.
The knowledge in Kalon’s head wasn’t just important—it was irreplaceable.
If Kalon were to die, that knowledge would die with him, leaving the Aramisians powerless to continue the project.
That fear had pushed them to make a difficult decision not long before the attack.
With Kalon being the only remaining person with the core knowledge, the Aramisians realized they couldn’t afford to leave everything in the hands of one man.
The god Kings had convened, and after much debate, they had decided that Kalon needed to create copies of the knowledge—backups, in case anything happened to him.
But there was a little issue with this idea of theirs.
Kalon had always been a bit of a condescending genius, though, in fairness, he had reason to be.
To him, it wasn’t just about having the core information locked in one’s head; it was about having the mind capable of wielding that knowledge effectively.
And when the topic ca up of creating backups of the core knowledge, the disciple couldn’t resist pointing out what he saw as a flaw in the Aramisian plan.
"What good is the information without the intellect to use it properly?"
That was the question he had asked, dismissing not only the scientists and researchers, but also the Divine Human Transcendents, but also the god Kings themselves!
His statent was pretty much an insult aid at the team of experts working under him, and it wasn’t subtle.
But, as much as they might have disliked his attitude, there was a bitter truth to his words. He wasn’t just intelligent—he was a genius, on a level far beyond those who tried to replicate his work.
So, when the suggestion ca to him, it was less about saving the data and more about preserving his mind.
He proposed a solution that was bold, almost arrogant in its scope: "Clone my brain."
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