A single King doesn't rule the Demon Realm, Urath.
Unlike Hyades, which was governed by a single Goddess whose authority blanketed the entire land, Urath was fragnted under the dominion of countless so-called "Gods."
So ruled over domains no larger than a continent, while others commanded territories that dwarfed Hyades itself by a hundredfold. Yet even among these Demon Gods, hierarchy was absolute.
Only a select few stood above the rest—beings whose existence eclipsed divinity itself. They were known as Kings. To be called a King among Demon Gods was not a title granted lightly, nor was it symbolic. It was recognition of absolute supremacy—of entities powerful enough to impose their will upon the very fabric of the universe.
Such beings were known as Autarchs, living apexes of existence.
The Prophet's master, Autarch Xig'drodan, was one such entity. Xig'drodan governed the intertwined aspects of space, ti, and mist, concepts so abstract that even lesser Demon Gods could barely comprehend them.
From his throne at the pinnacle of the Demon Realm, Xig'drodan could bend reality as one might fold cloth, warping spaceti with effortless indifference. His gender was unknown—perhaps unknowable—but the Demon Realm referred to him as King, not out of mockery, but because the word carried the most significant weight of authority and fear.
Yet despite his overwhelming might, Xig'drodan was not a being of brute force.
His power stemd from arcane laws, ancient mysteries, and unfathomable principles that predated most forms of existence. He was the embodint of enigma—a sovereign whose strength lay in what could not be seen, asured, or resisted.
His greatest rival, however, was the antithesis of everything Xig'drodan represented.
Autarch Zur'guth ruled over a vast majority of the Demon Realm, his territory expanding endlessly through conquest and annihilation.
Where Xig'drodan delved into mystery and abstraction, Zur'guth stood at the summit for a single, brutal reason—pure, overwhelming power.
Among all Demon Kings, he was the most aggressive, the most relentless, and the most devoted to the cultivation of raw strength.
Energy was his domain. Domination was his creed.
Zur'guth did not warp reality through esoteric ans; he crushed it beneath his presence. His power surged like a raging star, violent and unrestrained, and entire realms had been reduced to ash beneath his advance.
Though no official Demon Emperor had ever been crowned, Zur'guth was universally acknowledged as the one who stood closest to that throne.
If Xig'drodan was the mystery that governed spaceti itself, then Zur'guth was the primal force that coursed through the Demon Realm—its fury, its montum, its endless hunger for conquest.
And his offspring were no exception.
They inherited not only his blood but also his boundless aggression and terrifying potential, each a living testant to the raw power that defined their progenitor.
And the one who inherited his bloodline… has made landfall on Hyades.
Demon Prince Vol'giman.
Breathing in the air of the lower dinsion, the Demon Prince scrunched his face with slight suffocation. And more than that, he was confused by the sudden summoning. Rightfully, to summon him into a lesser world, one had to pay a trendous price. And even if the summoning succeeded, he would be bound by the lesser dinsion's law, making it impossible for him to enter at his full strength.
So why?
Despite all these restrictions, did Vol'giman answer the call?
"Your Highness Vol'giman!"
Isadora appeared mid-air before the Demon Prince, kneeling at the base of his feet. The heat emitting from his body was imnse, and Isadora felt like she was about to lt at any given mont. But the Apostle of Lust endured.
Her ultimate goal was right before her eyes.
Like a fanatic, she yearned for the seed of a noble demon bloodline, whose bloodline was purer than the Demon Prince himself?
[... Inferior lifeform, why have you summoned ?]
The Demon Prince's voice entered Isadora's mind like a billion screams were coming from the void. It took all of Isadora's ntal strength to simply listen to his words before replying in fluent demon tongue.
"Y-Your H-highness… I wish to… offer you this world…"
[A lesser world? Interesting… And why would I want this weak and useless world?]
"Y-Your Highness… Autarch Xig'drodan targets this world."
Isadora, the Apostle of Lust, whose powers were granted by the Demon King, easily betrayed her master's plot.
[Autarch Xig'drodan? Hmmm, now that you ntion it, I can sll a wisp of his scent on you. Are you his servant?]
"Not anymore," Isadora blatantly replied as she branded herself a traitor. "I choose to align myself with you."
[How brazen, a re lesser lifeform like you dares to go against an Autarch!]
Demon Prince Vol'giman let out a roar, ready to behead this re human for daring to go against a Demon King. Although he held no loyalties to Autarch Xig'drodan and was even considered part of a rival faction, he couldn't stand the idea of a dog daring to bare its fangs against its master.
But Isadora didn't flinch. She expected this reaction.
She had studied demons all her life. Their patterns, their mannerisms, and more importantly, she had studied Vol'giman extensively before summoning him.
Isadora knew all of his likes and dislikes, aning… she knew how to please him.
"My life is in your hands. Ever since I swore to beco yours… You can do whatever you please to ."
[How interesting… A lesser lifeform that knows her manners.]
Evidently, that was the correct answer. The Demon Prince didn't raise his hand again as a wry smile crept up his face.
[Speak, what is it you wish?]
"I ask not of riches or glory but… I wish you would grant your seed."
[My seed? So you're after the Demon King's bloodline? Do you yearn for my father's throne too?]
"N-No! N-not in the slightest!"
Sensing the silent wrath laced within the Demon Prince's voice, Isadora tried conducting damage control.
"I simply wish… to create the next evolution of my race… and to bless my child with your bloodline."
[Hmph, a noble wish. But far too brazen.]
Demon Prince Vol'giman snorted, not at all pleased by the fact that he was summoned to be a sperm bank. However, the Demon Prince didn't outright reject the woman.
Why?
For one simple reason.
[We shall discuss your paynt at a later ti, for now…]
The Demon Prince raised his palm, and a flaming force field blossod outward, enveloping the pair in a blazing do. In response, nurous Suns manifested across the heavens, blazing spheres of condensed stellar fury that crashed down upon the barrier one after another.
Each impact carried enough power to erase a mountain from existence—yet the Demon Prince did not so much as flinch.
He stood unmoving within the inferno, unscathed.
No—what unsettled him was not the force of the attack, but its nature.
A flicker of genuine perplexity crossed his face as he examined the barrier, as though sothing about the assault had defied his expectations.
Before he could speak, the sky tore open again.
More than twenty figures descended from the firmant, their auras blazing like beacons. The Solaris House was under attack—there was no chance their guardians would remain idle.
The Golden Dragon Order Commander, Gallahad, arrived first. Clad in his signature golden armor and gripping the Divine Severance Axe, he positioned himself at the forefront, his presence alone radiating unyielding resolve.
Close behind him ca Carn, the Black Dragon Order Commander. She wasted no ti—her body twisted and expanded as she assud her dragonoid form, golden scales gleaming as her gaze locked onto the Demon Prince.
Her wariness sharpened her power, and the air around her trembled in response.
One after another, the remaining commanders stationed within Solfea appeared, forming a vast encirclent.
Among them was the White Dragon Order Commander—the order tasked with protecting the Solaris Lord and other vital figures. At their center stood Raewyna Solaris. She was an old woman, her fra slight and weathered, but the age etched into her body had done nothing to diminish her might.
Slamming her staff into the ground, she invoked a colossal Solstice Sanctuary. Radiant sigils surged outward, forming a grand mystic domain—the Solaris House's supre Mystic Art—bolstering her allies while sapping the strength of their enemy.
Under normal circumstances, she would have exchanged greetings with Gallahad, Carn, or the other commanders who had gathered.
But this was no ti for ceremony.
The demonic mana swirling around the Demon Prince was suffocating, vast enough to drown the entirety of Solfea. If this nace was not stopped here, the world itself stood on the brink of annihilation.
The Solaris House understood this truth instinctively. Even if it cost them their lives, the Demon Prince would be stopped.
And then, at last, the first and final bastion of the Solaris House revealed himself.
Alrock Solaris.
The Solaris Lord stepped forward, raising his greatsword high as his presence eclipsed even the assembled commanders. His voice thundered across the battlefield, heavy with authority and resolve.
"Defend our holand!"
Although the Solaris Knight Orders had their differences, they were unified by one idealogy… to defend humanity.
They burned through every last drop of mana to do so. Thunderous detonations rolled across the heavens as the Solaris Knights unleashed everything they had upon the Demon Prince. Flas capable of vaporising oceans, strikes that could cleave entire mountain ranges, and torrents of pure mana powerful enough to flatten armies were hurled without restraint.
The battlefield beca a cataclysm of fire and ash.
Within that maelstrom, the Demon Prince remained hidden behind his crimson barrier as the Solaris Knights pressed on relentlessly, their combined assault resembling the end of an age itself.
Even Alrock joined the fray.
His form ignited, flesh and steel dissolving into radiant brilliance as he invoked his ultimate art—the Embodint of the Sun. His greatsword expanded into a blazing arc of stellar light, and when he swung, the force behind it was enough to annihilate legions of demons in a single stroke.
Eight Suns trailed behind the descending blade.
With a deafening impact, Alrock delivered what appeared to be the final blow.
But when the smoke thinned and the scorched air finally settled, the truth was laid bare. The Demon Prince stood there—untouched.
A smirk tugged at his lips, one born not of malice, but of amusent. As if everything they had thrown at him had been nothing more than an entertaining diversion.
"I-Impossible!"
"W-We can't damage him?"
The Fourth Calamity: The Demon Prince Vol'giman.
The Prince of Fire.
The Lord of Hell.
Both in [Bright] and in Yue's original tiline, he was…
The calamity… that ended the Solaris House.
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