In a seaside villa overlooking Madripo Harbor, Tony Stark sat watching the television.
The screen showed excited reporters breaking through the cordoned-off zones, covering how the once hellfire-scorched land had miraculously returned to normal. Some even started digging up the ground, hoping to find traces of demons, divine power, or anything extraordinary.
Tony picked up his glass and downed the wine in one gulp.
Pepper, standing beside him, let out a quiet sigh of relief and smiled—a radiant, comforting smile. But Tony didn't see it. His mind was far away, lost in the images replaying in his head.
The overwhelming, godlike power he had witnessed—just a single motion, a casual gesture—and millions of demons and undead were obliterated. The brilliance of that meteor-like force left Tony both stunned and envious. If he could possess even a fraction of that power, perhaps he would finally feel truly safe.
If such strength could be bought, Tony Stark would have paid any price.
But that was only a dream. Reality was much harsher.
He had once believed money could buy everything—but now, he understood there were things beyond its reach. Or rather, some things were so priceless that even the world's richest man couldn't afford them.
Tony knew he was being unrealistic, but that didn't stop him from feeling it.
He had always been a rebel—a genius, a billionaire, a man who had never needed to bow before gods or fate. He'd never believed in deities.
Now, however, the gods had truly appeared before him.
Even so, Tony still didn't have faith. Perhaps he felt awe—but not belief. To make Tony Stark a believer, the universe itself would probably have to collapse first.
He poured himself another drink and took a slow sip.
Pepper began gathering the documents she'd brought. She had to return to Stark Industries. After a few brief words with Tony, she left—leaving him alone in the vast, quiet villa.
Hands in his pockets, glass in hand, Tony walked out onto the balcony.
The ocean waves rolled peacefully, glittering under the sun as if doomsday had never touched the world.
When he looked up at the sky, he thought he saw a faint streak of light flash across it—like a meteor, or perhaps something more.
He stood there, dazed.
In just a few short years, the world had changed beyond recognition. When had it begun? Five years ago? Ten? Maybe longer. But in this turbulent, chaotic age, Tony found one thing to be a strange comfort—the existence of the Sanctuary.
No matter what anyone thought of it, the Sanctuary had become the pillar holding human civilization together. Without it, society might have collapsed long ago.
Instead, it stabilized the world. It calmed the people's fear.
Tony couldn't imagine what Earth would look like now without the Sanctuary, without the God King, without the Saints.
It would probably already be hell on Earth. Humanity—gone.
There would be no peaceful villa by the sea, no blue sky above his head.
Because of that, Tony respected the Sanctuary deeply.
What impressed him most was that the Sanctuary never interfered with governments, never forced unification. The God King seemed almost like a reclusive scholar—staying quietly within the Sanctuary, building cities, minding his own business.
Tony, being a member of the upper class, had once lived far removed from the world's hardships. He never truly saw poverty, hunger, or despair. His world was one of luxury—lavish galas, dazzling casinos in Las Vegas, glamorous stars and politicians.
But after the Wanda and Pietro incident three years ago, his outlook began to shift.
He started paying more attention to ordinary people—the poor, the desperate. Their suffering touched him more than he'd expected.
Since then, he'd launched ten new charity projects.
Of course, Stark Industries had always had charity programs—but before, they were mainly for tax breaks. "Charity" had just been another way to save money. Enough to make a homeless man into a millionaire.
Now, though, he was sincere. He even formed a special team to personally investigate where his donations were going.
"What do I really want?" Tony whispered.
He didn't know anymore.
Meanwhile, in the Sanctuary, Wanda led the subdued Blackheart Demon—now in human form—across the holy grounds.
For the first time, the arrogant demon lord was speechless.
The sheer tide of faith that filled the Sanctuary was overwhelming—an endless ocean of belief pressing from all directions. To ordinary people, it might have felt warm or sacred. But to a being of darkness, it was suffocating.
If not for Wanda's protection, the pure divine aura alone would have forced Blackheart to his knees.
Even so, his legs trembled with every step he took along the radiant red carpet leading into the grand temple. The carpet itself seemed to burn with divine energy, searing his body and soul.
Gritting his teeth, he endured in silence and followed Wanda into the hall.
Inside the magnificent, ancient chamber, he finally saw Leon.
The moment his eyes met Leon's, Blackheart's legs gave out completely. He fell to his knees, his proud head bowed low.
Wanda frowned slightly at the sight but said nothing. Kneeling on one knee, she placed her hand across her chest."God King."
Leon's voice was calm, gentle, and carried the weight of heaven itself."Wanda, you've done well. Your strength—and your future—will not be limited to this."
With a faint wave of his hand, he lifted Wanda to her feet effortlessly. Her beautiful face glowed with admiration, her bright eyes reflecting his figure. For a moment, emotion flickered in her gaze—but she quickly composed herself.
Then Leon's eyes turned to Blackheart.
A single glance, and the pressure that fell upon the demon was like a mountain crushing his spirit.
All pretense vanished. Every trace of cunning or defiance disappeared.
What kind of power was this?
Just one look, and his soul trembled as if it would shatter beyond repair. If Leon wished it, he could erase Blackheart utterly—body, soul, and memory.
Even Mephisto, Blackheart's father and the lord of Hell, had never given off such power. Compared to Leon, Mephisto was nothing.
Now Blackheart finally understood why even the Saints, those golden warriors of legend, willingly bowed to this man. Leon wasn't just powerful—he existed on another plane entirely, beyond gods and demons alike.
Despair settled over him like cold water.
So this was it. There was no fighting such a being. No scheming, no rebellion, no clever tricks. Everything was meaningless.
Leon regarded him quietly. "Blackheart, son of Mephisto. A unique soul… and great ambition."
Invisible energy lifted the demon into the air.
"Respected God King, I…" Blackheart began, trembling.
Leon raised a hand slightly, silencing him."I don't care about your ambitions."
Blackheart's eyes widened.
"As long as your desires don't threaten the Earth," Leon continued evenly, "I have no reason to intervene. I don't care that I killed your father, or that your plans spanned the multiverse. Your downfall came from impatience, not malice."
He sighed lightly. "After all, my appearance—and the Sanctuary's—was never part of your equation."
Indeed, Leon's rise had rewritten the rules.
Blackheart had wanted to overthrow Mephisto, to seize Hell's throne. But how could he have foreseen Leon—a man who broke every cosmic limit, who cultivated gods and saints as easily as breathing?
In just a few short years, Leon had reached a level that most beings in the universe couldn't even comprehend.
And now, standing before him, Blackheart realized the truth: resistance was meaningless.
Leon's voice cut through his despair, final and absolute."Your plan failed. As punishment, you will lose your freedom—and serve the rise of the Sanctuary."
The judgment was delivered.
Blackheart didn't struggle. He had already accepted his fate. The victor was king, the loser nothing.
Still, when Leon extended his hand, Blackheart's eyes widened in horror.
A thick black mist poured from his body—his very soul being forcibly extracted.
His voice cracked in disbelief. "Impossible! I… I fused those souls into myself! How can you—how can you pull them out?"
Leon didn't answer. His expression was calm, almost pitying, as the sacred light engulfed the struggling demon.
End of Chapter)
────────────────────────────────────
"If you want early access to nearly 60+ chapters, join my patreon:- patreon.com/BaDwYGaMeR"