Lee Seong-jun's tone carried the weight of divine judgment. "This is your last warning."
The air turned razor-sharp. Even without a shout or raised hand, the oppressive force behind his voice made the angels falter. Their pride, their celestial composure—crushed in an instant. The faint tremor in their wings betrayed them as they lowered their heads, realizing just how serious he was.
"You talk about equality while treating others as slaves?" Lee continued coldly. "Say that nonsense again, and I'll make you regret stepping foot on this planet. Killing a few angels means nothing to me."
There was no aura, no visible killing intent—only the quiet certainty of someone who had already weighed their lives and found them expendable. That certainty alone silenced even the boldest among them.
A flicker of amusement crossed his face when a gust of wind heralded a familiar voice.
"I had a feeling, but seeing a celestial up close really is a headache," Anna muttered as she appeared beside him, her sharp gaze sweeping across the pale-faced angels. "Still, looks like I don't need to do much this time."
Lee gave a faint nod. "Please."
"Leave it to me," she said with a bright, mischievous smile.
Moments later, the dragons' representative extended her hand, her voice carrying quiet authority. "As you asked, I've bound the angels' contracts into a single unified clause," she said.
The feat itself defied reason. To merge and reforge divine pacts—agreements between individuals and countless entities—should have been an impossible task. But the dragons, masters of ancient power, dealt with it as if it were simple arithmetic.
"If even one of you betrays this contract," Anna said, her smile vanishing, "you all die."
The angels stiffened. Her tone was devoid of malice, but the words themselves were heavier than any curse. She swept her eyes over the silent crowd, her voice slicing through the air. "Take care of your comrades. If you don't want to die, protect the one beside you."
Silence.
"Answer me," she demanded.
"Y-Yes! We understand!"
"Good." Her grin returned as she turned back to Lee. "Are you going to finish this yourself?"
"Thank you for your work," Lee replied quietly before walking toward Ramiel.
He stopped before the archangel, his gaze unflinching. "Even if you deceive yourselves or plot revenge, remember this—no matter where you hide, I'll find you. And when I do, you'll beg for the mercy you refused today."
It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.
Ramiel bowed deeply, his wings trembling. He had witnessed the man's power firsthand and understood the truth behind his words. This wasn't human arrogance—it was dominance, pure and earned.
"In the name of the Archangel, I swear this will never happen again!" Ramiel declared.
"Prove it with actions," Lee said flatly.
"Yes, I will!" Ramiel turned to his followers. "Listen carefully! Everything that occurred here is now a top-level classified matter. Any leaks, any disobedience—will be punished by immediate execution! Return at once!"
The angels hurried to obey.
Ramiel was the last to linger, giving a brief bow before he rose into the sky. From his hand, a white cube unfolded, sparking with divine energy. A black gate yawned open behind him as the device shone, drawing in massive streams of light before vanishing into silence.
Lee's eyes narrowed. "So it's not just spatial magic," he murmured. "It's forced teleportation—artifact-based."
He turned to Anna. "Can you replicate it?"
She studied the space where the gate had been, her expression thoughtful. "It's complicated," she admitted, then smiled. "But yes. If you give me some time, I can make something similar."
Lee's eyes gleamed. Not with idle interest, but with a fierce hunger. "Do it. No matter what it takes."
Anna chuckled softly, a spark of excitement lighting her voice. "I knew you'd say that. I'll start immediately."
"Thank you."
With a flash of silver wings, she soared skyward and disappeared, leaving Lee alone with his thoughts.
Yeouido's Black Gate crisis had ended without casualties. But as Lee flew north toward the land where he would train, his expression was grim.
'It's only a temporary solution,' he thought.
The Celestials were not fools. If they shared even a fraction of the demons' intellect and power, they would soon discover the dragon contract that bound them. And once they did, they would retaliate—with a war that wouldn't stay on Earth.
'We'll need to fight beyond this world.'
That thought anchored in his mind like iron.
Thanks to Anna, the research on interdimensional gates would soon bear fruit. The day humans could cross realms freely was coming. But even that wouldn't be enough. Travel was one thing—victory another.
He needed overwhelming power.
The fifth form of the Sura Reverse Skywalk awaited him—a brutal threshold that would mark the end of his early ascension and the beginning of true mastery. It would take time and isolation, but he had prepared for that.
'For Korea, Baek Mu-jin and President Ko Tae-hyun will handle things. Overseas, Julian, Theodore, and Nicholas Holt can lead. And if it gets worse… Victor, Wei Zhijiang, and Zhang Zhehan will hold the line.'
With allies of such caliber, Earth could endure his absence. Even if unforeseen enemies emerged, they could buy him the time he needed.
He sent out several messages through his phone before tucking it away. "Now's the time to train," he murmured and veered toward the distant horizon.
The human world remained peaceful on the surface. But outside their cities, in lands ruled by monsters, rivers of blood carved through the soil. Endless wars raged—until one day, silence fell.
Keron, known as the Minotaur King, the self-proclaimed Emperor of the Beasts, knelt upon the ruins of his own throne.
"I… lost," he muttered, disbelieving. His empire of ten million had fallen—not to demons, not to humans, but to a force of elves numbering less than a thousand.
In front of him stood an elf with hair black as midnight, his expression unreadable.
"Do you surrender?" the elf asked softly.
"For us Tau, defeat means death," Keron said. "Do it."
The blade flashed once. His head fell, and the Minotaur's reign ended.
Cheers erupted. "Long live His Majesty the Emperor!" the elves cried. Months of conquest had ended with this moment—the rise of the Dark High Elf Emperor, ruler of all monster territories.
Yet his expression was not one of satisfaction.
"No," he whispered. "Not yet."
His subordinates exchanged puzzled glances.
"The Emperor of Earth still stands."
One elf stepped forward cautiously. "Your Majesty, humans are weak. There's no need for you to intervene personally. Allow us to—"
The high elf cut him off with a glare colder than the void. "You can't handle him."
The soldiers froze as a palpable chill filled the air. The Emperor could sense it—a distant but immense presence, unlike any he had felt before. Lee Seong-jun's aura, faint as it was across dimensions, still reached him.
"I'll lead the invasion myself," the elf declared.
As he donned a black helm, darkness coiled around his body. "Advance," he ordered. "March toward Korea—the land of the human emperor. We will burn it to ash."
The first shadow of war had already begun to fall.