Michael walked calmly through the void beyond Vastyrion, the realm outside the familiar continuum. He did not run, did not rush, but his senses were sharp and alert. Even in just a few moments, he could traverse enormous distances in this infinite expanse. His brown clothes were still messy, torn from battles and travels, yet clean enough not to smell. He had maintained this with the river he had passed through.
As he moved, something unusual caught his attention. A faint glow shimmered in the distance, small but distinct against the empty surroundings. Michael approached cautiously. The glow floated above the ground, pulsing slightly, almost alive.
"What is this?" he muttered to himself. "Who owns this, and why didn't the demons take it before?"
Curiosity piqued, he crouched and picked up the glow. It was surprisingly heavy with energy, almost vibrating in his hand. He carefully tucked it into his pocket, feeling the strange warmth and power radiate through him. "I'll need to be ready for anything," he thought.
Michael opened the air before him, creating a portal in spacetime. He stepped through, leaving the empty void and entering a new realm.
The world that greeted him was unlike any he had seen. The sky or whatever passed for it was a soft pink, stretching infinitely. The ground beneath him was pure white, soft and strange, like walking on jelly or some organic substance. The air was absent, the sun and moon nonexistent. The realm was terrifyingly beautiful, an alien landscape that made his instincts tense but not afraid.
He stepped forward, testing the ground with his hand. The jelly-like surface rippled slightly under his touch. With a precise motion, he ripped it in half and saw the abyss beneath. Red fire glowed faintly far below. Michael's curiosity flared. "This might be the demons' former hideout," he thought, moving deeper into the abyss.
The deeper he went, the more the space distorted around him. Fire and shadow twisted unnaturally, yet no demons emerged. At the center, he saw a throne, enormous and dark. Michael floated toward it, touching it lightly. The throne radiated immense age and power—he calculated it to be at least twenty million years old.
"The demon lord who sat here… must be dead," he thought. "Killed by the old Sentinels, I assume."
Michael continued to move slowly through the fire abyss. The glow in his pocket pulsed stronger, reacting to the energies around him. He approached it and suddenly the entire dimension twisted violently. The pink heavens above warped, the white ground rippled, and the abyss distorted unpredictably. He pushed against the jelly-like surface with his hands, stabilizing it. The place fell silent once more.
Just as he was about to open another portal, the air around him shimmered with movement. Countless demons materialized, surrounding him. They were massive, taller than he was, horns black and burning, wings spread wide, mouths agape with anger. Flying demons screamed as they circled, and the ground trembled beneath their weight.
Michael remained calm, standing still and observing them. "What the fck," he said under his breath, not surprised but alert. He did not draw his sword immediately.
The demons hesitated for a moment, sensing the strange aura around him. Then he drew his glowing sword. Despite its size, it felt light in his hands. The air around him shimmered with its power. The demons hissed and roared at him.
"Try to touch me, and you'll feel what real punishment is," Michael said calmly, almost whispering through the chaos.
The demons roared, enraged, and attacked. Michael dodged with precision, leaping over massive claws and wings. Flying demons spat poison and fire, creating explosions that distorted the dimension further. He swung his sword, striking down those on the ground. The jelly-like floor collapsed under their bodies, revealing the fiery abyss beneath.
Slash after slash, he cut through them with incredible efficiency. He cast small sparks from his palm that detonated on contact, killing dozens at once. One powerful swing sent a wind slash tearing endlessly through the ranks of demons. They could not react; they could not even comprehend the speed and precision of his attacks.
The battlefield quickly emptied as Michael's sword moved with relentless determination. He paused briefly, scanning the remaining area. "I need to find their lord. This is not going well otherwise," he muttered.
Using his powers, he opened a portal and returned to the Vastyrion Realm. The transition was smooth but fast, bringing him to the kingdom of Aldervain.
Inside the palace, Baldrick was already aware of Michael's return. His eyes widened as he noticed the glow in Michael's hand. "I'll prepare my army," Baldrick said, his voice firm. "We'll form alliances with the other nations just in case."
Michael held up the small glowing item. Baldrick leaned closer, astonished. "No way. That is the Stone of the Eight-Realm Former Demon Lord? That means… he survived. The former demon lord of eight realms is alive. He lost to the Ninth Sentinel, yet he's still alive. Incredible."
Michael nodded calmly. "I'll handle the lord myself. I trust you and your army to manage his servants."
Baldrick exhaled slowly, a mixture of relief and concern on his face. "A new conflict begins. The peace we've enjoyed is over. We must prepare for what's coming."
Michael looked down at the glowing stone in his palm, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over him. The vast continuum of the Vastyrion Realm was at stake, and beyond it, countless other worlds awaited. The journey of the Sentinel was far from over.
And so, the next chapter of the world began.