Once Xara made the command, the City answered. All of the residents who had evacuated in panic flew back quickly, taking their stations to begin the process.
Across Aurelion’s Fall, systems that had once humd with quiet, eternal confidence that they would last forever finally began to die with dignity.
It was sothing most of these Fallen Angels never thought they’d ever actually experience, yet here they were. However, while there was sadness and regret, there was also excitent to live in the new Capital City, built and managed by their new Demon King.
One by one, nonessential arrays dimd. Beacon towers powered down, their radiant spires fading to dull silver. Transit platforms locked into place. Decorative levitation glyphs winked out, causing suspended gardens to settle gently onto stone terraces for the first ti in centuries.
As for Jax, he remained suspended above the chamber, one hand still raised, golden sigils slowly rotating around the city like the rings of a bound star. Sweat never touched his brow, but Ashanti could feel the weight of what he was doing now.
The imnse mana he was releasing shocked even her, yet most surprisingly, Jax didn’t even look like he was breaking a sweat, reminding Ashanti of just how astronomically powerful her Demon King was.
As for Xara, she watched the tactical feeds stabilize, evacuation numbers climbing steadily toward green. Civilian clusters moved with very disciplined efficiency, escorted by combat wings toward the designated transfer gates, temporary spatial corridors already opening like wounds of light in the air to move everyone out.
"...Evacuation is holding," one of the officers reported, awe barely restrained. "No panic. Minimal injuries."
Xara nodded once, then finally turned fully toward Jax.
"You’ve bought us ti," she said quietly. "Enough to save everyone."
"That was the goal," Jax replied.
He lowered his hand slightly, not releasing the spell, but easing it, locking the suspension spell into a self-sustaining loop tied directly to the planetary ley network. The hum deepened, steadied, becoming a constant, resonant presence that pulsed beneath everyone’s feet.
Then he descended, boots touching stone once more. The mont he did, the pressure lifted.
Ashanti exhaled without realizing she’d been holding it.
Jax turned to both of them, "I guess I’ll be heading out now. You don’t need here anymore."
Xara frowned faintly, "Excuse ?"
"The rest is logistics," he said simply. "Your people are disciplined. The transfer routes are already prepared. The Capital will be ready to receive you."
Ashanti blinked. "You’re not coming with us?"
Jax shook his head, "Not yet."
He looked at Ashanti first, voice softening just a touch. "You should go. I think introducing myself now would be a bit strange. With your issues mostly fixed, it’s better for you to go spend ti with your people and help them out with all these processes,"
Ashanti hesitated, "But you, "
"Everything will be fine," he said, smiling faintly, "Rember, trust yourself always,"
Ashanti took a deep breath and nodded while Jax turned to look at Xara, "You’ve done everything right," he told her. "Now finish it. Move your people in. Let Aurelion’s Fall rest."
Xara bowed respectfully and Jax decided it was ti to leave and head to Nightengale Town, where the Vampire Clan would be located, wanting to et Nulissa and the other Vampires.
He stepped away from the central platform and into open air, letting gravity claim him for just a mont before flight magic answered.
Darkness thinned around him as he descended through layers of warped space, the dying pocket-dinsion peeling away in translucent sheets behind his passage.
He lifted one hand, folding space with casual precision. Crimson-black sigils spiraled outward, beginning to form the initial frawork of a long-range teleportation spell directly to Nightengale.
When all of a sudden, sothing brushed his senses in a familiar manner. The sigils stilled mid-rotation as he shifted his attention inward, toward the layered network of bindings and contracts that connected him to his domain.
"Ah, that’s what it is," He muttered, sensing a sharp Draconic presence reminiscent of Orianna.
It was one of her familiars.
A pulse of structured mana snapped into place, forming a compact projection before him.
The shape resolved into a small, serpentine dragon construct no larger than a cat, its crystalline scales shimring with prismatic light. Six eyes opened in unison, each glowing with disciplined intelligence.
The familiar dipped its head.
" Demon King Jax "
Its voice resonated directly in his mind, crisp and formal, layered with the unmistakable authority of the Dragon Queen behind it.
Jax’s lips curved slightly. "That tone usually ans sothing’s finished."
The familiar’s tail flicked once.
" The Military Plan is complete. "
Images flooded his awareness
Vast training grounds carved with brutal efficiency into reinforced terrain. Regints moving in synchronized drills. Demonic legions, dragonkin phalanxes, cavalry, specialized caster corps, shadow operatives, logistics units.
Ranks clearly defined and the Command Structures were already locked in. There was also information about supply chains mapped down to the smallest mana crystal.
The vision shifted again.
Barracks stretching as far as the eye could see, layered vertically and horizontally to accommodate nonstandard physiology. Aerial docks for winged units. Heavy armor forges running day and night. Strategic halls engraved with war doctrines old and new, refined under Orianna’s ruthless oversight.
And at the center of it all, the Military Headquarters which was recently finished.
The familiar continued.
" We have exceeded initial projections. Recruitnt surged following your actions in the various Clans and your defeat of the Hero Party! "
More images. Demons lining up voluntarily. Clan banners being raised. Entire warrior families pledging service. Veterans returning from self-imposed exile. Even rival factions—once hesitant, now eager to be on the right side of history.
"Training has begun in earnest. Morale is... extrely high."
There was a pause.Then, unmistakable pride bled through the bond.
" Mada Orianna invites you to return to the Capital to inspect the Headquarters personally. "
Jax was quiet for several seconds.
The half-ford gate to Nightengale City still hovered nearby, crimson sigils rotating slowly, patiently awaiting his decision.
He looked toward it.
Then he looked inward again, toward the Capital, where montum was building into sothing vast and irreversible.
"Well," he murmured, "looks like the schedule just changed."
He raised a hand and casually collapsed the Nightengale gate. The crimson sigils unraveled into harmless sparks, dispersing into the air like embers.
The familiar’s eyes brightened perceptibly.
"Tell her I’m on my way," Jax said. "And that I’m looking forward to seeing what she’s built."
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