The Demon Empire.
Born from the Demon Cult, the Demon Empire expanded its influence with alarming speed. Humans were ever susceptible to temptation, and with the Cult promising wealth, power, and the fulfilnt of any desire, it was hardly strange that vast numbers from the Hyades Republic defected.
At its height, over thirty per cent of humanity had sworn themselves to the Demon Empire—an astonishing achievent.
Yet the growth of this parasitic empire soon began to stall.
Despite the Cult's extravagant promises, most humans were not fools. They could see with their own eyes the routine human sacrifices, the summoning of demons from another realm—beings who harboured nothing but contempt for ordinary humans.
Even the upper ranks of the Demon Cult viewed their followers with open disdain.
Vicars, Deacons, and even Apostles treated the faithful as disposable assets, little more than fodder for summoning rituals and fuel for their own ascension.
As a result, the Cult's grand ambition of converting the majority of the Hyades Republic gradually ground to a halt. There were other reasons as well.
First, Zephys had not been fully destroyed as planned. Humanity's beacon still burned, and from its ashes rose a new hero—one powerful enough to challenge even the upper echelons of the Demon Cult. More shockingly, this hero accomplished what even the greatest cultists never could: the defeat of a Demon Prince.
Second, and perhaps most critically, the Demon Empire lacked sothing indispensable.
It lacked an Emperor.
What was an empire without a sovereign to hold the helm?
The Apostles were rely humans gifted with power by the Prophet. And the Prophet himself was no ruler—only an emissary of his King, who remained trapped within the Demon Realm by the laws governing dinsional passage.
Thus, despite possessing a throne, it stood empty.
Without a central figure to trust, to worship, to unite them, the very purpose of the Demon Empire began to blur. The demons cared little for Apostles or cultists, and cracks were already forming between them.
Had it not been for the Prophet's tenuous authority, the Demon Empire might have collapsed into civil war long before it ever realised its dream of conquering the world.
Seated on his simple throne, the Prophet looked down at the reports with his hollowed-out eyes, feeling a throbbing headache as he finished his daily reading. Beside him, the sole Apostle who hadn't gone into a closed-door retreat, sighed as she adjusted her spectacles.
"My lord, governing the Empire is important, but you need to rest."
Ravenna, the Apostle of Grief, addressed the Prophet with barely concealed concern. Ever since his return, the Prophet had buried himself in administrative duties without pause. Rank ant nothing in this regard—no matter how high-ranking a demon was, even the most tenacious of their kind required rest.
Yet the Prophet worked relentlessly.
Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, without granting himself a single mont to breathe. It bordered on self-destruction, and Ravenna could not comprehend how he endured it.
But the Prophet did not care.
"Ravenna, thank you for your concern. But, I advise you not to speak those words again."
"... understood, my lord."
The Apostle sighed, fully aware that nothing she said would sway her liege.
The Demon Cult had already suffered losses it could scarcely afford. Two pivotal Apostles were gone. The Apostle of Subservience, Malachi, had been slain by Amon. In that sa battle, the Prophet himself was gravely wounded, forced to retreat and undergo a long recovery.
Before the Cult could replace Malachi, or even properly mourn him, the Apostle of Lust, Isadora, betrayed them.
She was captured by Yue, her whereabouts now unknown.
Worse still, she had dragged the Pope of the Utopia Church, Nirvana, into her treachery to further her own nefarious ambitions. Although Isadora succeeded in summoning a Demon Prince as intended, the outco was the sa as before.
Once again, Amon stood victorious.
In a single chain of events, the Demon Cult had lost three irreplaceable assets—pillars upon which their grand sche had depended.
All because of one person.
"My lord, may I make a bold suggestion?"
"What is it?"
The Prophet continued to scour his reports while periodically answering the Apostle, who also served as his assistant. Ravenna took a deep breath before boldly declaring her intentions.
"We should elect new Apostles," the bespectacled woman made the suggestion, but her tone wasn't going to take no for an answer.
"The Apostle of Subservience and the Apostle of Lust have lost their positions. Among the mbers of their gospel, there are plenty of talented individuals who can take their role… at least in the interim. If we appoint new Apostles, we can divide our workload evenly."
The Prophet paused mid-reading and lifted his gaze to et Ravenna's. The Apostle of Grief, herself a superhuman, felt as though her very existence teetered on the brink of annihilation.
Peering into the abyss of the Prophet's eyes was like staring into a void that devoured all aning, a bottomless sandpit from which nothing could escape. Before she realised it, Ravenna found herself ensnared by the Prophet's all-knowing presence, her thoughts stilled beneath the weight of his gaze.
"... Ravenna, do you know why, even though Malachi has perished long ago, I have yet to nominate his successor?"
"... wasn't it because you were injured?"
"That too, but it wasn't enough to stop from nominating a new Apostle."
The Prophet waved his hand, and a grey mist erged within his fingertips. Like a serpent, it coiled around his arms before gradually dissipating away like it never existed. Seeing how faint the mist was, Ravenna gulped as she realised what the Prophet was implying.
"With each passing day, the connection between my holand and this world feels more faint. It shouldn't be this case. The number of cultists grows by the hour, and the Demon Empire is gaining a stronger foothold. But… the amount of demonic mana wanes… why?"
"..."
The Prophet asked, but a reply never ca. Thus, the man changed his question.
"Ravenna, are you aware of why my King chose this dinsion to invade?"
"The Demon King he… wishes to expand his territory."
"Yes, he does. But why this world in particular?"
"... why?"
"Because he thought it was an easy conquest."
The Prophet revealed the underlying truth, which proved more of a surprise than Ravenna had expected.
"Your world, to put it bluntly, is weak. Among all of the dinsions in the vast universe, this planet is a little better than a primordial world that was just born from gravity and stardust. There isn't a pantheon of Gods to protect it, it hasn't evolved to a greater world despite its high mana density… in gaming terms, it's free real estate on a cosmic scale."
"... so why hasn't the Demon King claid it?"
"Because of the laws governing the dinsion."
A Demon King was a being who held dominion over thousands of planets and an untold number of souls. Taking a lesser world like Hyades should have been a walk in the park. But unfortunately, the universe was fair. No matter how authoritarian and powerful a Demon King was, they couldn't throw the balance of a lesser planet off.
After all… even a Demon King was but an insect in front of the cosmic law.
"As long as the laws remained, the Demon King could never set foot on this world. But we found a loophole, a traitor that was so power-hungry that she couldn't fathom sharing her power, and was actively holding the planet back from evolving."
"The Goddess Hyades."
"Precisely."
The Prophet stared into the distance, knowing full well the Goddess could hear their conversation. But the Prophet didn't care.
"She was the one who opened the doors and invited us in. In her arrogance, she believed that by weakening the living creatures of the planet, she could prevent the world from giving birth to new Gods who could threaten her mandate of heaven. But…"
The Prophet wore a thin smile, seemingly mocking the Goddess who was unquestionably listening in on their conversation.
"The Goddess severely underestimated the dinsion's will to evolve. She actively held the dinsion back, but, just as she found a loophole, it developed its own will to thwart her plans. And now, the dinsion creates a new champion to execute its will. A champion that neither the Goddess nor I have the ability to stop now."
"W-Wait, is that…"
"Yes, Amon Solaris. He's the new champion of the planet's will."
The Prophet scoffed, clearly laughing straight in the Goddess's face.
"As long as he lives, the planet will be put on a path to a greater evolution. Which ans, a new Pantheon will be born. And this pantheon… will one day grow to rival that of Urath."
Urath, also known as the Demon Realm, was once a dinsion much similar to this one.
In the beginning, only a handful of living creatures existed, locked in endless conflict over the Mandate of Heaven.
In their struggle, they gave rise to innurable beings capable of bearing the divine power with which Urath had blessed the world.
War followed war, until those creations turned upon one another and were gradually extinguished—until only a select few remained. From those survivors were born the Demon Kings: existences that stood on the threshold of godhood, beings whose power rivalled that of the divine itself.
And this dinsion was ant to be on the sa path… until the Goddess Hyades stalled it.
"D-Does that an we're never ant to win?"
Although the Demon Empire was growing, it ant nothing if their connection to the Demon Realm was severed. And if Amon was fated to grow the planet, then anyone who sided with the Demon Empire would be expelled as well.
"Yes, we can't win." The Prophet admitted calmly. But he once again stared into the distance, ignoring the shaking Ravenna as he addressed the void impassionately.
"But we will… For our King will finally… personally put his hand on this matter."
Ravenna couldn't see it, but the Goddess could.
For the first ti since coming to Hyades, the Demon Cult and the Prophet were no longer her collaborators… but her enemy.
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