The Raging Lion.

One of the seven ultimate demons anchoring the absolute inner circle of the Demon King—the Seven Supreme Commanders—was standing right before his eyes.

Dazzling gold body fur and plate armor.

A massive, sweeping mane that mirrored a wall of roaring fire.

He was a comprehensively ferocious lion-kin beast-demon.

(This monster is a Supreme Commander…!)

Elio tightened his grip on his pitch-black spear—the active Miracle Armament, Glacyte.

His palm slipped against the shaft. Before his processors could even track the change, his hands had become thoroughly saturated with a cold sweat.

(Maintain cognitive equilibrium… My parameters have scaled past all comparison to my historical profile. All because my system successfully stabilized and integrated this Chaos Form.)

Throughout his entire lifecycle, his metrics had been relentlessly audited and compared to his absolute prodigy of an older sister. Fiore, who masterfully held a permanent rank as an apex vanguard warrior among the Sacred Four (Sacred Edge), actively harvesting spectacular achievements on the frontlines—contrasted against his own profile, which flatly stalled at a subpar tier four levels below her.

The low-stat murmurs of the surrounding crowd continually bypassed his filters, forcefully reminding his processors that the true, verified successor to the Quell crest should undeniably be Fiore, zero percent Elio.

It was an comprehensively bitter pill. It filled his system with intense frustration.

While his baseline programming held a deep reverence for his older sister, his emotional arrays simultaneously processed a highly toxic, convoluted mixture of intense jealousy and pure resentment. He flatly loathed himself for harboring those data corruptions.

Yet, it was that exact psychological bottleneck—the unresolved friction smoldering inside his heart—that had abruptly triggered an emergency awakening sequence within his matrix one day.

Deep within a grueling, maximum-intensity training loop, his Miracle Armament had suddenly undergone a dark, pitch-black discoloration, unleashing a cataclysmic, roaring surge of raw power straight through his limbs.

At that precise microsecond, his instincts successfully mapped out a fundamental system theorem.

The absolute primary fuel source engineered to power a Miracle Armament is strictly a unit’s psychological strength—to apply a standard taxonomic label, the raw force of human emotion.

However, his live data confirmed that rather than drawing output from “positive” attributes like love, empathy, or justice, the system yielded an exponentially more colossal, cataclysmic damage multiplier when fed exclusively by “negative” internal variables.

The specialized engine hard-coded to amplify the absolute power of a holy Miracle weapon did zero percent prioritize a pristine, pure Hero—it masterfully synchronized its metrics with a thoroughly wicked, corrupted Hero.

It was an absolute, world-shattering contradiction.

Regardless of the underlying programming logic, the final yield confirmed that Elio had grown exponentially stronger.

He craved more power—.

An absolute force to systematically reduce all material objects to ash—.

The more intensely his processors demanded that power, the more transparently his entire heart began to slide into a pitch-black discoloration.

—And that corruption felt like absolute, supreme ecstasy to his code.

“My vessel has officially completed its unlocking sequence. I am entirely unshackled.”

Elio predatorily curled the corners of his mouth into a sharp smirk.

He had successfully logged the true, underlying essence of his identity.

He realized, with absolute certainty, that his choices were entirely free.

Surrendering his motor inputs to that raw emotion, he masterfully swung his black spear.

“Whichever vector this Supreme Commander deploys, my blade flatly refuses to log a defeat loop.”

Elio forcefully re-routed his bandwidth to resume tracking the live battlefield.

“Total Character Level: 312… Combined Physical ATK: 3,300…っ! His capability indices operate on an entirely separate dimension compared to standard demon models…!” A back-line Hero equipped with a scanning device vocalized the telemetry, his face turning comprehensively pale.

Under standard parameters logged within the database, a basic demon unit’s character level plateaus around the Tier 50 threshold. Conversely, an elite, top-tier human Hero scales around Tier 100, and even the absolute apex warriors classified under the elite Sacred Four demographic barely breach the Tier 200 benchmark.

Elio’s own character level currently registered strictly at a baseline of 76.

“The absolute level discrepancy separating our profiles is comprehensively overwhelming…” Elio muttered, a raspy, strained tone escaping his lips. He aggressively dialed his internal alertness metrics to their maximum threshold to brace for impact.

“If your low-stat brains highly desire a summary bisection loop, my vanguard shall gladly fulfill that command! Utilizing this—Blasty Claw!”

Zegart hoisted his massive right arm into the air. The descending trajectory of his claws ruthlessly sliced the earth open, carving a deep trench into the wasteland.

“Or perhaps your systems highly desire to sample my Severing Wind Fang?”

Casually tilting his massive chin, a series of sharp, high-velocity shockwaves violently erupted from his jaws, systematically halving a cluster of several Heroes simultaneously. A colossal spray of fresh biological fluid showered over the coordinates like rain.

“Or wait! How about my Destruction Tail? Or perhaps my Tyrant’s Claw Strike? Or maybe my Violent Gale Fang?!”

Unleashing an unmitigated, rapid-fire barrage of raw physical attacks leveraging his tail, claws, and fangs, the bedrock below shattered and exploded into flying debris. The human Heroes were ruthlessly sliced clean in half one after another, while alternate models sustained a complete structural explosion, their masses blown to pieces across the terrain.

“H-Hieee…っ?!”

“H-His combat specs are comprehensively, absurdly broken—”

Within a handful of frames, the remaining Heroes hit absolute cognitive failure, their lines completely collapsing into pure panic.

“Every single unit, execute an immediate backward shift to clear the perimeter!” Elio roared across the network.

Firmly gripping the shaft of Glacyte, he drove his legs forward to leap past the defensive line. Kicking off the dirt, he launched an explosive sprint straight toward the Beast Emperor.

Right at that exact microsecond—

“Hold your vector, human brat. My profile flatly blocks you from approaching Zegart-sama’s coordinates.”

Rocketing into his path to obstruct his line of sight was an avian beast-demon.

“My nomenclature is logged as Sigmund, and my vanguard is programmed to systematically kick your entire squad out of existence.”

“Attempt the execution loop if you have the stats!”

Elio masterfully executed a heavy swing with his black spear. The demon who had verified his identity under the nomenclature of Sigmund aggressively expanded his massive wings to execute a heavy flap.

FWOOSH!

The howling gale ripping through the airspace functioned as an explicit physical attack vector, while simultaneously providing the mandatory propulsion drive to vault Sigmund high into the upper airspace.

Tracking the airborne bird-kin via his combat displays, Elio let out an explosive, high-intensity battle cry.

“HAAAAAAAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAH…!!”

A single, instantaneous flash loosed with absolute, unmitigated force. A violent spray of launched crimson lightning ruthlessly snared Sigmund’s coordinates, locking his wings in a crackling cage of energy.

“Gah…?!”

Venting a sharp groan of pain as his motor functions suffered temporary failure, the avian beast-demon plummeted heavily back to the earth.

“Execute a backward shift and stand down, Sigmund,” Zegart commanded, calmly stepping past the fallen bird-kin to reclaim the frontline. “No matter how heavily optimized your specs are, forcing your system to horizontally engage a dark Miracle Armament model of that taxonomy represents far too tedious a drain on your bandwidth.”

“ …However, milord—“

“My long-term strategy flatly blocks me from permitting your model to hit a deletion threshold in a throwaway sector like this. We require your utility to secure our ultimate grand ambition, after all.”

“ …Orders flawlessly logged, milord.“ Sigmund clicked his beak, retreating back down the line with a heavy trace of frustration lingering across his data feeds.

“Now then, I shall personally process your sparring loop.” Zegart stepped into the center of the zone. “Lock your internal metrics onto my coordinates and harbor a deep sense of honor, young Hero.”

And just like that, the duel against the Beast Emperor initialized its active runtime.

“RAOOOOOOOOOOH!”

Unleashing a deafening, thunderous roar, the golden titan launched a high-velocity physical charge straight into his perimeter. Elio hoisted his spear high, aligning his targeting arrays to meet the blitz.

Claws and fangs tore through the open airspace along three-dimensional vectors, leaving an infinite network of silver flashes burned into his visual matrix as they closed in on his frame. It was a cataclysmic, relentless combo array that flawlessly combined near-absolute velocity metrics with crushing physical mass. If his focus wavered for even a single frame of runtime, his chassis would guaranteed sustain a fatal, unrecoverable wound.

Yet—his eyes were successfully tracking the lines.

The attacks were undeniably elite, but the velocity parameters didn’t completely transcend his processing capacity. Fully leveraging the astronomical escalation his physical attributes and reaction speed had sustained under the mastery of the pitch-black Chaos Form, Elio cleanly parried and deflected every single strike of Zegart’s combo array using the shaft of his spear.

Ten exchanges, twenty exchanges, thirty exchanges.

Their respective weapons violently collided frame after frame, the massive kinetic shockwaves venting a howling storm of razor-sharp wind across the quadrant.

“Oh…?! Your spear-handling proficiency stats are remarkably elite!” Zegart predatorily curled the corners of his mouth, a wide grin spreading across his face as he analyzed the exchange.

I can fight him—.

While his damage metrics lacked the necessary punch to forcefully push the golden titan back, his defensive multipliers were more than sufficient to barebones endure the enemy’s onslaught. If his current lines could hold the stalemate, rewriting the equation into an absolute clear simply required coordinating a joint-attack vector with the remaining Heroes.

“The exact split second a defense vulnerability manifests across his hull, discharge your maximum artillery payloads! My vanguard shall guaranteed maintain the lock and hold his coordinates until then!” Elio shrieked across his shoulder. He flatly lacked the administrative allowance to cut his gaze away from the threat to check his lines.

Even though a massive portion of their squad had been liquidated under Zegart’s initial area-of-effect parameters, a non-zero volume of the Hero Army remained active across the back lines. If the units pre-outfitted with long-range projectile Miracle armaments could successfully snipe the golden lion-kin the precise frame a cooldown stall triggered across his defense lines—victory was a validated certainty.

Elio began violently spinning Glacyte like a literal high-velocity windmill, launching an exceptionally aggressive, valiant bisection sequence to force the enemy’s stance.

“Hmm, your systems can dial up their motor speed even further, it seems—wait,っ?!”

Abruptly executing a sharp side-step matrix, Elio broke the melee link, violently yanking his coordinates away from Zegart’s perimeter.

The exact millisecond his mass cleared the line of sight, the back-line Heroes—their hands firmly bracing an assortment of bow, javelin, and ballista-type Miracle armaments—simultaneously loosed a massive, synchronized barrage. Crimson, cerulean, emerald, amethyst—an infinite network of blinding laser streaks slammed squarely into Zegart’s coordinates all at once.

The thunderous explosion blanketed the quadrant in a blinding flash, and the golden plate armoring enveloping the titan’s chassis was violently shattered into flying debris. The matching gold body fur beneath was instantaneously stained in a dark spray of fresh biological fluid.

“っ…!”

Slightly furrowing his heavy brows as his health pool absorbed the damage ticks, Zegart dragged his massive boots back a few paces.

The joint-artillery play had successfully carved a substantial penalty into his armor metrics.

—Or so it appeared.

“A truly nostalgic sensation. My processors cannot even log the exact historical frame where my armor plating was last shattered,” Zegart purred.

He was grinning.

His entire physical mass completely drenched in fresh blood, he was letting out a deep, ecstatically amused chuckle.

“A truly nostalgic sensation. To manually complete the unlocking sequence to strip away these ‘Restraints’ that have continually compressed the true output limits of my power.”

“Restraints…?” Elio’s brows sharply knit together, his anxiety parameters spiking.

“A truly nostalgic sensation. To forcefully initialize the active phase of the absolute Demon Crests hard-coded into my bloodline.”

The golden body fur framing his build began to violently ripple, and a massive payload of fresh biological fluid surged toward the center of his chest, seamlessly morphing into a complex, ancient geometric crest.

“Therefore—let us formally commence the campaign!”

Thud. Zegart dropped his core mass down into a low, terrifying prowl.

A sharp gust of wind sliced through the clearing.

Immediately following the draft, a dense, billowing cloud of blood-red mist sprayed across the horizon.

“Eh…っ?!”

Elio stood completely frozen in absolute, blank bewilderment.

Pivoting his neck on a single frame to audit his rear coordinates, every single human Hero comprising his platoon—bypassing a single survivor—had been systematically, brutally shredded into mutilated wreckage, their lifeless bodies scattered flat across the dirt.

“W-What exact… classification of anomaly just triggered…?!”

It had required a single frame—a literal instant.

Evaluating the telemetry, the sudden gust of wind from a moment ago wasn’t an environmental spell; it was strictly the atmospheric displacement wave generated when Zegart’s physical mass accelerated past their positions. Bypassing an offensive spell, the enemy’s actual motor movement had been completely invisible to the tracking arrays of his brain.

Even utilizing the hyper-accelerated optical resolution his senses commanded under the supreme multipliers of his black Chaos Form, his eyes had captured absolute zero data tracking the shift.

“A mathematical impossibility… his velocity parameters are far too broken…!”

“Hmph. My internal processors had intended to stretch the duration of this sparring simulation to savor the combat a bit longer… but no matter,” Zegart deep-chuckle expanded, his mandibles grinding as he casually extended his tongue to lick the fresh human blood coating his talons clean. “Did your microscopic human brains genuinely formulate a calculation that a wretched piece of trash could successfully achieve a deletion loop against this Zegart—the absolute direct bloodline descendant of the ancient Demon King, the ‘Crimson Lion’ Rosgart?”

Zegart took a single, heavy step forward into his space.

“H-Hieee… eeeek…”

Elio’s knees completely buckled beneath his frame, sending him collapsing flat onto the dirt. Every single drop of his battle intent had been completely wiped from his processors.

The weapon gripped in his palm underwent an immediate de-escalation, the pitch-black Chaos Form decaying back into a standard pristine white shell before slipping out of his fingers with a hollow clatter, rolling uselessly away across the dirt.

“Save… me…”

His face completely devoid of color, Elio pathetically whimpered, venting an emergency plea for his life.

A slow, warm sensation abruptly diffused across the fabric of his crotch. His internal diagnostics registered that under the unmitigated pressure of absolute terror, his sphincter control parameters had sustained a total crash, causing him to involuntarily urinate himself.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MAGNIFICENT! EXCELLENT! SHOW ME MORE OF THAT EXACT FACIAL LAYOUT! AMONG EVERY SINGLE PROFILE CONSTITUTING THE HUMAN TAXONOMY, THAT IS THE ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE CONFIGURATION MY PORTFOLIO PRIZES HIGHEST! ABSOLUTE TERROR INTERSECTED WITH UNMITIGATED DESPAIR… Kukuku, I can calculate an immense, soaring wave of raw energy flooding my internal engines!”

Zegart loosed a cataclysmic, world-ending roar of laughter.

“Come then, drive your panic metrics even higher! Broadcast your frantic prayers to your supreme God! Because your precious prayers and your tiny lives shall be consolidated into a single package—and my vanguard shall guaranteed smash it to cinders, grind it to absolute dust, and purge it from existence!”

(I am going to be murdered… my code is going to be deleted…)

Marooned deep within the absolute absolute foundations of unmitigated despair, Elio rumbled a final, agonizing groan inside his mind.

(Save me… Onee-san…!)