Chapter 725: The Endless Blood War
Long before time began, the first Devils embarked on interdimensional voyages, driven by insatiable greed, seeking to claim all realms for themselves. They crossed through the Casserly Plane and finally arrived at the Bottomless Abyss.
It was there they first beheld the Tower’s legions of Demons—Order Evils and Chaos Evils, two fiendish races whose very natures were locked in irreconcilable conflict. This innate ideological war erupted instantly into open slaughter, fueled by hatred and fury.
Soon, the Devils suffered near-total annihilation. Yet a small remnant managed to flee back to Baator Hell to report. Now both sides knew of each other’s existence.
At first, it was mere skirmishes between small forces. But those soon escalated into localized battles, then into full-scale war. From that moment on, the Blood War—the most brutal and enduring conflict across the Multiverse—was born.
The war raged across the entire Lower Planes. Demons and Devils slaughtered each other upon countless battlefields. The Devils, swift and disciplined, launched a decisive assault into the Abyss, establishing steel fortresses and seizing strategic positions on the Ten Gates Plain.
But the Demons, with their endless numbers, pushed them back. They advanced their frontline all the way to the plain of Avernus. The war raged on without end, a cycle of violence that seemed to stretch into eternity. Even the intervention of the Upper Planes and the Deities could not halt it.
To this day, the Blood War has raged for untold millennia. Even the oldest chronicles cannot pinpoint its beginning. Historians estimate it may have already lasted for hundreds of thousands of years.
The belief that this war would never end has become a universal truth. Some even claim it will ultimately determine the fate of the Multiverse.
As for the cause of the Blood War, scholars have offered dozens of theories: pure hatred, philosophical opposition, the desire for dominance, the doctrine of striking first. But the most widely accepted explanation comes from a legendary traveling magician who lived ten thousand years ago:
> The Blood War is the manifestation of the eternal conflict between Order and Chaos—the very essence of the cosmos. It is unchangeable, unblockable. As long as the universe endures, this war shall never cease.
Now, Kai Xiusu was about to step into this endless war, becoming an eternal counterbalance between Order and Chaos.
“Your Majesty,” said Meizhuolashi, Commander of the Tiefling Elite Guard, half-kneeling before Kai Xiusu, his voice low and solemn. Piled high beside him were ancient, crumbling tomes and scrolls. “Time is too short. This is all the intelligence we could gather.”
“It’s enough,” Kai Xiusu replied, his voice calm. With a spell, he manipulated gravity, suspending the documents midair as he flipped through them with casual ease.
Beside him knelt an emaciated old man wrapped in a black long robe. His left arm and shoulder had been torn away entirely, leaving behind a gruesome, gaping wound.
This was Yude Pek—the scholar captured by Meizhuolashi, an expert in Abyssal lore, and a madman through and through. He had sacrificed over a hundred lives for his research, even summoning a six-armed serpent demon into the mortal realm.
Just moments ago, he had narrated the history of the Blood War to Kai Xiusu.
Now, trembling uncontrollably, his voice raspy and strained, he stammered:
“Your Majesty… you must mean the twenty-third layer of the Bottomless Abyss—the Lordship… the Lord of Wrath, the Frost Giant King Koscherci… he rules the Steel Ice Plains.”
“Koscherci,” Kai Xiusu murmured thoughtfully. From thin air, he drew forth an ancient war hammer, its surface etched with runes of forgotten power. A fierce smile spread across his face.
“He might have come for this.”
As the war hammer appeared, frost-white mist billowed into the air. The very atmosphere turned icy, prickling the skin like spines.
Yude stared at the weapon with rapt, almost loving devotion, whispering in awe:
“It’s… the Father of Frost, Matalotok… Koscherci’s most beloved weapon! Your Majesty, please… lend it to me! Such a rare research artifact—this is—”
His voice rose in excitement, and he stretched out his single remaining hand, reaching toward the runes on the hammer.
Then—a wave of bone-chilling cold.
Yude froze instantly. His body turned to ice, cracking with fine, spiderweb-like fissures.
Kai Xiusu spoke, voice cold and indifferent:
“Take this man to Lanpu. Extract every last thought from his mind. His life is no longer needed. A scholar infected by Abyssal will—it makes me ill just to look at him.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Meizhuolashi replied, rising. With a gesture, several Tiefling guards surged forward, lifting the ice statue without delay.
Alone now, Kai Xiusu extended a clawed hand, pulling forth the Heart of Hell—a pulsating crimson crystal. It glowed with a malevolent radiance, transforming into a bloodstained, jagged dagger.
“It’s time to visit my allies. If Avernus falls, things will get messy.”
“Spines—!”
With a sharp crack, the dagger sliced through space, tearing open a massive, scar-like rift. Crimson light poured from within, as if the fabric of reality itself was bleeding.
This was the Cursed Gate—the passage between the Material Plane and Baator Hell. And now, with the authority of Hell, Kai Xiusu had carved it open.
“It’s time,” he whispered, “to witness… the legendary Blood War.”
He swallowed the Heart of Hell. Folding his wings, lowering his head, he let the earth-shaking tremors of space envelop him. The colossal sixty-meter dragon body plunged into the rift.
First Layer of Baator Hell — Avernus.
Everywhere, scorched wasteland stretched endlessly. Debris littered the ground, broken rock formations jutted like jagged teeth, and rivers of blood wound through the desolation, flowing into the River of the Dead.
The air reeked of sulfur, thick and suffocating. A red glow pulsed across the land, and the sky—blood-red, like a wound in the heavens.
But half of that sky was now obscured by dark, swirling clouds. Yet upon closer inspection, one realized—those were not clouds at all.
They were Demons.
Endless hordes of them, flapping their wings in chaotic disarray, crowding the skies of Avernus, their grotesque, distorted bodies blotting out the sun. Their cacophony of shrieks and caws echoed across the wasteland, shaking the very earth.
“For the Will of the Abyss!”
“Annihilate them!”
If a mortal had arrived here, they would have gone mad before even touching a Demon—driven to frenzy by the sheer horror of the sound, their minds corrupted, their bodies twisted into half-demon abominations.
The winged Demons flew in swift, terrifying formations, their eyes clouded with hatred, as if chasing something.
Soon, the Blood River was bordered by a chaotic swirl of red and black—a Hellish Legion of Devils.
“Move! Follow me!”
“Head for Oleg Stronghold! There’s a general there—maybe he can hold them off!”
“Damn it! Ever since Zaril died, these Abyssal scum have become unbearable!”
The Devils wore armor forged from Hell Iron, wielding steel forks. They were disciplined, well-trained elite troops.
Now, they formed tight ranks, unfurling bat-like wings, swooping in perfect unison across the low sky, fleeing southward.
When Demons pursued, the Devils raised their forks and thrust backward with brutal force—Hellfire blazing from the blades, impaling their pursuers through and through.
But the Demons were too many. A black tide poured into the sky, cutting off all escape.
A Balor Fire Demon, massive and muscular, wielding a whip of flame, laughed maniacally, his whip cracking through the air.
“Hahahaha! Cowards of Hell! You’re finished! Without that damned madwoman, the Bottomless Abyss will conquer Avernus! Scum! Tear them apart! Or I’ll crush you into paste!”
Due to the essence of Chaos, Demons had no true discipline. Their armies were rudimentary—divided into two types:
1. A powerful Demon lord, strong enough to crush weaker ones, whose mere presence instilled instinctive terror in lesser demons.
2. Low-level Demons, who gathered around the lord, driven only by instinct and the primal urge to destroy.
The Demon commander issued a simple command: Rend the enemy at all costs.
That was the most effective tactic their simple minds could comprehend.
So, as the Balor laughed, Demons swarmed from every direction—like a flood of madness, determined to drown the Devils in Chaos.
“By the Lord of the Nine Hells, these Abyssal vermin are everywhere!”
“Reports say millions have invaded. Even several Abyssal Lords are here. Even Bair himself couldn’t stop them!”
“Kill! Cut a bloody path! Annihilate these abominations!”
The Devils swung their steel forks, slashing through the air, blood and flame dancing in the sky. They were elite, yes—but outnumbered by thousands, even tens of thousands.
One by one, Devils were torn apart by the frenzied mob. Blood sprayed across the earth. Flesh and bone rained down.
Even the Balor Fire Demon charged forward, roaring with glee:
“I’ll kill you all! I’ll conquer Avernus!”
Then—a deafening roar split the air.
A blinding column of white fire erupted from the ground, piercing the sky. Instantly, a wave of orange-red flame burst forth, engulfing the heavens like a tidal wave.
The fire stretched for thousands of meters, consuming half the sky. The sky turned into a sea of fire, illuminating the entire Avernus.
Worse still—its temperature was unimaginable. Even Demons with high fire resistance were reduced to ash in the Flame That Consumes All.
“No—!”
“It’s so hot!”
“What is this fire?! My wings! My arms! My claws—they’re burning! I’m on fire!”
Demons screamed in agony, flailing in the inferno, but to no avail. They fell, turning to charcoal mid-air, then scattered like ash across the earth.
“Demons,” boomed a thunderous voice, echoing across the sky.
“Do you think you can conquer Avernus… without my permission?”
The voice carried such dignity, such overwhelming presence, that hundreds of low-level Demons fell like rain.
“What… is that?”
“Who is it?”
Even the Balor Fire Demon trembled, his confidence shaken.
In the midst of the sea of flames, a shadow emerged—vast, indistinct at first, like a floating mountain.
Then, the flames parted like subjects bowing before a sovereign.
And revealed—was a Red Dragon.
A creature of impossible size, over sixty meters long. Its wings shaded the sky. A single beat of its massive wings stirred a scorching storm.
Its claws were like blades. Its tail, thick and serpentine, coiled like a mountain range. Crimson scales gleamed under the firelight, radiating a terrifying brilliance.
Even the most mindless of low-level Demons could sense it: this dragon was beyond mortal comprehension.
A sixty-meter dragon—on any scale, such size meant power. Even ancient Red Dragons were but half its length in comparison. It dwarfed them all.
What was this creature?
A Supra-Ancient Red Dragon? An Elder Ancestor of the Red Dragon lineage?
The Balor Fire Demon, though reckless and hot-headed, was no fool. He paused, then slowly raised his head.
“Stranger Dragon,” he growled, “I am Zand, Seventh Domain under the Lord of Wrath. State your purpose. Why do you block the advance of my Abyssal Legion? And why have you slain my subordinates?”
“Oh?” The Red Dragon lowered its head. Pale golden eyes, piercing and unblinking, locked onto the Balor. Pride radiated from every fiber of its being.
The Balor bristled, but held back. “Are you truly willing to defy the Blood War itself? Dragon… think carefully. Can you bear the wrath of an Abyssal Lord?”
Zand knew he stood no chance against this being—an embodiment of raw power. So he invoked his superior, hoping to intimidate the dragon.
The Devils saw their chance. They rushed forward, bowing deeply.
“Mighty Dragon!” they cried. “These Abyssal scum insult you! They claim you are lesser than an Abyssal Lord! Can a mere name truly frighten a being of such grandeur? This is a blatant insult to your dignity! We must destroy them!”
The Devils, masters of inciting discord and stirring chaos, played their part perfectly. Even Kai Xiusu found himself impressed.
The Balor snarled, lashing his whip. “You treacherous Hell vermin! I’ll tear you into a thousand pieces!”
But Kai Xiusu merely looked down at him, expression calm.
“Very well,” he said. “Then let us destroy them.”
The Devils’ eyes lit up with hope.
The Balor’s face twisted in panic. “Dragon… is this truly worth it? Are you really willing to stand against the Abyss for such a petty reason?”
“No,” Kai Xiusu shook his head. His淡 golden eyes flared with flame. He grinned—a smile both beautiful and terrifying.
And then he spoke the words that would echo through legend:
> “Just… Destroying you is none of your concern.”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
