Interlude.....
The air over Eterna tasted of ash and iron. The plaza and the surrounding streets lay in ruins—tents burned, carts shattered, cries long since faded. Atem's people were exhausted, furious, and hurting. While their lord prepared something none of them could fully imagine, his generals kept fighting to hold on to what was left.
Benimaru's crimson eyes burned as he stalked through the wreckage. Shadow-threads from Souei's spies had already corralled most stragglers, but one person remained at the center of it all—the woman who had anchored Clayman's cursed barrier.
Myuran trembled where Souei's threads bound her arms behind her back. Faint, dying sigils still clung to her fingertips—the last trace of the barrier that had strangled Eterna's defenders.
"You did this," Benimaru said, low and full of blade-heat. Flames licked his shoulders as if answering his words. "Because of you, our people couldn't fight. Because of you… Shion—"
His voice broke; his teeth ground. The grief made the anger taste like iron.
Myuran flinched, but she tried to hold her face steady. "I—I only followed Clayman's orders! If I didn't, he would have killed me!"
Benimaru spat. "Pathetic excuse." He stepped closer, hand grazing his sword. "Do you know what you did? Entire families wiped out. Our friends—our family—cut down while you stood here chanting!"
Souei's voice cut in, precise and cold. "Benimaru. Secure her for questioning. She may know Clayman's plans."
Benimaru's flames snapped up. "…If Atem-sama weren't here, I'd burn her where she stands."
A desperate shout came from the wrecked street behind them. Benimaru and Souei turned as Youm stumbled into view, pale and breathless. Beside him, Grucius' wolf ears twitched; he positioned himself protectively in front of Myuran.
"Youm? Grucius?" Benimaru barked, some of the heat in his voice caught by surprise.
Youm held up his hands, voice shaking. "Please—listen! Myuran isn't what you think. Clayman forced her—he made her do it!"
Grucius' growl rolled like a distant thunder. "Clayman's a snake. She's a pawn."
Souei narrowed his eyes. "A pawn who helped put the barrier in place. That barrier cost us everything."
Benimaru's fire flared higher, raw pain fueling it. "Will that excuse bring back Shion? Or any of the others?!"
Myuran's eyes spilled tears. "I didn't want this! I only wanted to survive. Clayman promised he wouldn't hurt me if I obeyed. I thought— I thought no one would die!"
Her voice broke and fell away.
For a heartbeat, Benimaru looked like he would cut her down. The flames around him writhed, ready. The plaza held its breath.
Then Youm stepped forward, voice barely a whisper. "Benimaru… I swear on my life, she isn't Clayman. If you execute her now, you help him. Let her stand trial. Let Atem decide."
Benimaru's hands clenched. His flames crackled and dimmed a fraction. Souei's threads stayed tight around Myuran, but his gaze flicked to Benimaru, waiting.
Finally Benimaru let out a rough breath. "Tch… fine. But don't call it forgiveness. If she so much as breathes wrong, I'll end her myself."
Souei tugged the threads and hauled Myuran forward. She stumbled, head down, tears hitting the stone. Youm and Grucius fell in to shield her, silent promises etched on their faces—promises to protect her even if Tempest's fury turned on them.
Benimaru looked up at the sky where Atem's presence still pulsed in the distance, an unseen light over the battlefield.
"Atem-sama…" he muttered, voice raw. "Hurry. I don't know how long we can keep this fury inside."
---___------"""""____
Hurrying over, Youm and Grucius bent down beside the fallen warriors. Their eyes widened as they noticed the steady rise and fall of Shion's chest—and the calm, even breathing of the others who had been lost.
"Oi!" Youm gasped, his voice breaking. "Shion-san… and the rest—they're alive?!"
Grucius leaned closer, ears twitching, relief flooding his sharp features. But before he could speak, Myuran's soft voice cut in. She hesitated for a moment, then answered quietly.
"Yes… they've been brought back. It's thanks to the gifts born from Atem's evolution." She looked at their sleeping faces, her own eyes trembling. "It would be better if all of their memories are intact too…"
Her voice trailed off, and under her breath—too soft for Youm or Grucius to catch—she whispered, "It should be fine."
Meanwhile, across the city of Eterna, life stirred. One by one, its people began to wake, blinking in confusion. Fear spread as they realized the cursed barrier had vanished, and the once-choking weight of magic essence had thinned.
But then—someone screamed. Not in terror, but in joy.
"They're alive! Shion-sama and the others—revived!"
The news spread like wildfire. Panic gave way to cheers, tears, laughter. Relief crashed over the city like a wave, drowning the despair that had hung so heavy only moments before. Cries of grief transformed into jubilation, echoing through the streets. Eterna was alive again, breathing again—reborn with its heroes.
And yet… only two people knew the truth.
Youm and Grucius stood silently, exchanging a look. They had seen it with their own eyes: this was no miracle. It was not the hand of a god, nor the whim of fate. This resurrection had been carved into reality by power—by Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom, executing Atem's will with unerring precision.
As the people of Eterna celebrated in blind relief, no one realized something deeper had also been born in that moment.
Within Solarys—the great will of wisdom that had always been cold, calculating, and without heart—something stirred. A spark. A seed of self-awareness.
The Sovereign of Wisdom, once only a voice of reason and calculation, had begun to wonder. To question. To feel.
And that, though unnoticed, might become a turning point as great as Atem's rebirth itself.
The streets of Eterna overflowed with noise and joy. Music, laughter, and the smell of food filled the air. Everyone was still arguing over names for the event—ridiculous titles like "The Demon Lord Birth Festival" or "Atem-sama Worship Ritual."
I sighed. Do they really believe this is about titles? Still, the people were smiling, and for that alone I let them celebrate.
As I stood watching, someone broke from the crowd and approached me with deliberate steps. His aura was oppressive, dark flames curling around him like chains of the abyss. Even the strongest of my generals instinctively shifted when his presence washed over them.
He bowed deeply. "I am honored to witness your rebirth, my lord. Congratulations on your evolution… into a Demon Lord."
The words hung in the air. The crowd nearby quieted, straining to hear my response.
I raised my chin, silver hair spilling like a banner of light, my golden eyes sharp as blades. When I spoke, my voice was low, commanding, absolute.
"…You are mistaken."
The daemon froze, his head still bowed.
"I have not simply become a Demon Lord." My aura surged, golden and crimson light tearing through the night sky like the sun itself had descended. The very ground trembled beneath my feet as my voice thundered through the plaza. "I have ascended far beyond that. What stands before you now… is the True Pharaoh Dragon."
The words shattered the air. The people of Eterna dropped to their knees instinctively, unable to withstand the weight of my presence. Even the daemon himself trembled, though he forced his head lower, as if kneeling before a god.
He swallowed hard before speaking again, voice shaking. "Th-then… even greater than a Demon Lord… a being who rules as dragon and king alike…"
"Correct." My tone cut like a blade. "A Demon Lord governs through fear or schemes. But I—Atem—carry the throne of eternity itself. My crown is forged from the souls of gods, and my blade is destiny." My aura flared again, scorching the night with power. "I am not bound by the title of Demon Lord. I am the Sovereign of Eterna. I am the True Pharaoh Dragon."
The daemon lifted his gaze slightly, awe blazing in his eyes. "Magnificent…! Truly, I could serve no other. My lord, my only wish is to pledge myself wholly to you. From the moment of my rebirth, I have desired nothing else."
I studied him in silence, my expression unreadable, the blazing aura around me dimming just enough for him to breathe.
"…You were one of the three I summoned with the soldiers' corpses, weren't you?"
"Yes, my lord," he answered without hesitation. "Thanks to the banquet you provided, I have cast aside my old form. I now possess flesh, power, and purpose. And all of it belongs to you."
Solarys 's voice stirred within me, calm yet edged with warning.
"He is powerful, Master Atem. His loyalty now burns bright, but even flames can turn wild. Choose wisely."
I let the silence stretch before I finally spoke, my voice steady and cold.
"Very well. Serve me as you claim. But know this: as True Pharaoh Dragon, I do not tolerate weakness or betrayal. If you falter, even once, I will erase you from existence."
The daemon collapsed fully to the ground, his forehead pressed against the stone. His voice shook with devotion.
"As you command, Atem-sama! From this day forth, I am yours—body, soul, and eternity itself!"
The festival roared on behind us, but here in this quiet corner of power, a pact had been sealed.
The True Pharaoh Dragon had claimed his first true servant.
Atem's gaze pierced the shadows. "Tell me, daemon. Where are the others you came with?"
The daemon's crimson eyes glinted, his form shifting slightly as he chuckled. "I sent them back… to the Underworld. None were worthy. Only I… am fit to serve you, Pharaoh."
Atem's aura surged, gold and crimson intertwining, energy coiling like serpents around his form. He stepped forward, commanding yet calm.
"Then hear me well," Atem declared. "From this moment forward, you shall bear the name Diablo. Swear your loyalty, and let the pact bind you eternally to me."
The moment the name left Atem's lips, a shockwave of pure energy exploded from him. The air crackled, fire and lightning interweaving, and every particle of magic in the area trembled. Diablo's shadowed form convulsed, then expanded, energy coalescing into an immense, dazzling aura.
Diablo's power doubled instantly. Where once he had been strong, he now radiated an overwhelming might, his essence amplified, refined, and sharpened to perfection. His claws glowed with molten darkness, his eyes shone like rubies burning in the void, and every sinew of his body thrummed with newfound strength.
He rose to his full height, wings of shadow and fire unfurling, crackling with energy that seemed to challenge the very heavens. Flames of crimson and gold licked his form, intertwining with his shadow like a living storm. The daemon roared, a sound that shook the air and made the ground beneath tremble.
"I… I am Diablo!" he bellowed, his voice amplified tenfold by the divine bond. "The First of your Abyssal Pharaoh Guard! My strength is yours! My loyalty eternal!"