The toxic miasma may have posed little threat to abyssal beings—most of whom possessed high resistances to poison and magic—but to the lifeforms of this world, and even its matter itself, it was catastrophically lethal.
Here in the Abyss, even the air carried traces of poison. As a result, virtually every creature, whether demon or devil, had some degree of toxic immunity or venomous skill.
But in this alien plane, the miasma was devastation incarnate.
Everything the haze touched melted like snow under a scorching sun, corroding into steaming pools of vile sludge.
Within seconds, reinforced concrete structures began to weaken. And within ten seconds, entire high-rises—towering over a hundred meters—collapsed like dominoes,
one after another.
Dust clouds and debris rained outward in the chaos. Chunks of buildings crashed into soldiers and civilians alike, crushing many instantly beneath the wreckage.
The other High-Rank demons didn't hesitate either. Upon seeing one of their own initiate the attack, they too began unleashing their powers:
Lightning, flame, hurricane-force winds, venom...
Each ability launched directly into the entrenched military lines, ignoring the relentless barrage of counter-fire.
In mere moments, the battlefield devolved into pure chaos.
Blasts of elemental energy collided with gunfire, shells, and magic.
Thunder roared.
Wind screamed.
Firestorms engulfed city blocks.
Anyone caught in the crossfire—be they man, building, or vehicle—was torn apart, pulverized, or incinerated.
Among the curious civilians who had stayed behind to watch, few even had the chance to run.
Most were instantly wiped out by stray area-of-effect attacks.
---
At the frontlines, the commander of the Corpus Mobile Unit observed in horror as several heavily-armored, melee-type demons charged directly into the heart of their formation.
Tanks and artillery fire barely slowed them.
And their soldiers—no matter how bravely they fired—were no more effective than insects attacking a lion.
One by one, squads were annihilated.
The demon attackers tore through lines like a hot blade through butter.
Morale was crumbling fast.
The commander immediately turned to his adjutant:
"Alert Command! Get the air force in the sky—NOW!"
"Tell them to target the demons at long range, the ones throwing out magic! I'll try to slow the frontliners down myself."
Without another word, he and a handful of elites launched themselves into the fray.
He knew that if they didn't stop those melee demons now, the army's morale would collapse entirely.
Even if it cost him his life.
---
CRACK!
A tank—made of reinforced alloy—was smashed like a soda can. It was sent flying several hundred meters, embedding itself into the side of a crumbling office tower.
The demon responsible was a towering spider with a humanoid torso mounted on arachnid legs.
He tilted his head, watching with amusement as the commander tried to pull himself up from the rubble.
The commander's advanced exosuit had been reduced to scraps.
Barely-functioning servos whirred, dangling wires sparked, and his body was drenched in blood.
The demon lazily nudged the soldier with one leg, watching him struggle like a broken toy.
"This is your so-called elite force?"
"Pathetic."
With a mocking laugh, he sent the commander flying again, casually kicking him like a soccer ball, sending him tumbling across the ruined street.
Coughing blood, his armor in tatters, the commander looked around at the city. Everything had been leveled.
Smoke. Fire. Screams.
"We lost… horribly."
It had only been ten minutes since the demons arrived.
In that time, the Corpus Mobile Unit, along with nearly ten thousand mechanized troops, had been obliterated.
The commander had hoped to at least delay one or two of them.
But in truth, he couldn't even scratch one.
Their strength, speed, and durability were simply incomparable.
It was like a grown man beating on toddlers—
no strategy, no tactics, just overwhelming power.
There had never been a chance to resist.
---
"Tch. So boring…"
The spider demon sighed in disappointment.
His prey had stopped moving.
But just as he turned away, a sonic boom erupted beside him, dust and debris scattering everywhere.
Another demon appeared.
This one had backward-jointed legs, four arms, and was gnawing on a mangled corpse like it was a turkey leg.
As he chewed, he casually asked:
"Still not done playing?"
The commander looked up.
He recognized the broken armor and insignia on the half-eaten corpse.
It was his adjutant.
A surge of fury overcame him.
Despite having most of his bones broken, he forced himself upright.
"Why…? Why are you doing this? Why invade us!?"
The four-armed demon blinked, turning to the spider demon.
The spider shrugged.
And then, in the blink of an eye, the four-armed demon vanished.
CRACK!
A heavy stomp slammed the commander into the ground.
He rolled across the rubble-strewn pavement like a rag doll, bouncing off shattered concrete.
The demon reappeared beside him, stepping on his chest and leaning down lazily.
"Why…?"
He scoffed, brushing his ear with a claw.
"We're hunting. What else?"
The commander, gasping for air, stared in disbelief.
"Hunting…?"
The demon nodded, tilting his head as if it were obvious:
"What else do you call it when stronger beings kill weaker ones?"
"Whether it's for fun, food, or territory—it's all just a hunt."
He paused.
Then his ears twitched.
His gaze turned to the sky.
"...Hmm?"
He heard something.
Jet engines.
Before he could act—
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions tore through the sky above.
Dozens of fighter jets were shredded mid-air, their missiles detonating before impact.
From above, a group of avian demons pierced the clouds, their sleek, monstrous forms untouched.
Within seconds, the planet's most advanced aircraft had been annihilated.
Though capable of flying at five times the speed of sound, even the slowest High-Rank demon could fly at ten times that.
To them, these machines were crawling.
"So much for reinforcements," the demon muttered.
He looked down at the commander again.
"Guess it's time to finish this."
And then—
CRUNCH!
He drove his heel into the commander's chest.
Bones shattered.
As his vision dimmed and life slipped away, the commander saw something:
Far on the horizon, a dozen fiery trails streaked through the clouds, drawing closer.
He knew them at a glance—
Orbital Warheads.
His country's last resort weapons.
'Please… let it work…'
With that final hope, he closed his eyes forever.
__
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