The moment the gate of the Netherworld opened, the world screamed.
An invisible pressure slammed down upon the capital like the weight of a collapsing sky. Buildings cracked. Windows shattered. People fell to their knees, coughing blood as their souls trembled.
Priests collapsed mid-prayer.
Holy knights dropped their swords.
Only the Head Priest remained standing—barely.
The Red Moon burned high above, staining the clouds crimson. Thunder roared endlessly as if the heavens themselves were afraid.
From the black gate, an army marched forth.
Rows upon rows of demons, clad in obsidian armor, eyes glowing with hellfire. Each step they took shook the ground. Behind them stood four towering figures—Lucifero's Great Generals—each radiating power far beyond mortal comprehension.
And at the very front—
Lucifero.
The King of the Netherworld.
His presence alone erased hope.
He stood tall, wings of shadow spread wide, his gaze calm, ancient, and merciless. His eyes fell upon the charred skeleton bound at the execution platform.
The demons knelt.
Every single one.
Lucifero lowered his head slightly.
"So this is the one," he said, his voice echoing through dimensions. "The bearer of the Crimson Seed."
The Head Priest staggered back, terror flooding his face.
"D-demon king…" he stammered. "This is holy ground! You cannot—"
Lucifero raised one finger.
The divine barrier shattered instantly.
Like glass.
A shockwave tore through the church, ripping sacred symbols from walls and reducing holy artifacts to dust. Priests screamed as blessings burned away from their bodies.
Lucifero turned his gaze toward the Head Priest.
"You burned my contractor," he said calmly. "You defiled a covenant."
His voice hardened.
"War it is."
The demons moved.
Holy knights charged in desperation, shouting prayers and activating holy arts. Spears of light pierced the air, colliding with demonic shields.
They shattered uselessly.
Lucifero's army advanced like an unstoppable tide.
Demons tore through knight formations. Holy swords clashed against abyssal blades—and broke. Knights were thrown aside like dolls, crushed beneath demonic strength.
The Great Generals entered the fray.
One raised his hand.
A city block vanished.
Another swung his blade.
A cathedral split in half.
The Church burned.
Lucifero stepped forward slowly, walking through collapsing ruins as if strolling through a garden. Every step erased divine authority from the land.
The Head Priest screamed.
"Human God! ANSWER ME!"
No response came.
Lucifero laughed softly.
"He abandoned you," he said. "Just as you abandoned him."
The Head Priest raised his staff and unleashed a forbidden holy spell. Light erupted, piercing the sky and slamming directly into Lucifero.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then the light faded.
Lucifero stood unharmed.
He snapped his fingers.
The Head Priest's body froze.
Then shattered.
The war ended before it truly began.
The church lay in ruins.
The capital burned.
Lucifero turned back toward the skeleton.
The chains binding it disintegrated.
Dark energy surged.
Bones cracked.
Magic flooded the remains.
The skeleton's eye sockets ignited with crimson light.
Red awoke.
Pain exploded through him—then vanished.
He gasped, drawing breath for the first time since death.
"What… am I…?" Red whispered.
Lucifero stood before him.
"You are undead," he said. "And alive in a way mortals are not."
Red looked down at himself.
Bones.
No flesh.
No blood.
Yet he felt power.
Lucifero placed a hand on Red's skull.
"You cannot remain here," he said. "This world will hunt you endlessly."
The ground beneath Red opened.
Darkness swallowed him.
In an instant—
Red vanished.
Lucifero closed the gate.
The Red Moon faded.
Thunder ceased.
The war ended.
And deep within an ancient dungeon—
Red fell into darkness.
Far from the Church.
Far from humanity.
The journey had truly begun.
End of Chapter 8