For his mother who was raped to death, his brothers and sisters who would never have the chance to grow up, and his father who they drove mad, Nero allowed hatred to become his master.

In three hundred years Nero drove back the demon hordes. He herded them like the sheep and goats that many of them resembled. In that time, they hid behind their pens. Nine rings of blasphemous haloes made from metal spat out from hell itself. With flame, light, and hatred he crippled their hold on this world. Only their strongholds remain.

From within the command seat of the battle barge Sovereign Justice Nero began his march to the deck of his ship. Officers and crewmen stood at attention, but he hardly honored them with a glance. His work had not ended, there was no time to rest. The demons thought themselves safe behind a planet's worth of hellish steel. He would prove them wrong.

Many fell to their knees in reverence at his passing. One look at his armor and they knew their savior had arrived. His golden powered armor was etched with the silver purity engravings of the heavens themselves. The last of the heavenly powers left in the world was on his armor. He took it because no one else could. It was destiny that he would put on the armor, route the demons, and push them back to where he would triumph.

Nero stood atop his battle barge. It was a part of him as surely as the crew and soldiers the aircraft housed. The battle barge was nearly three kilometers long and housed thousands of smaller aircraft, land vehicles, and tens of thousands of qi experts in the Asura System to the demi ascended stage. He'd collected them jealously over his campaign to route the demons. They shared his hate and fueled his convictions. Everyone had a similar story to himself. They were him and he was each of them.

Of all the warriors that thrived within his battle barge there was only one who he was unsure of. Beside him was a tall thin figure that followed him silently like his shadow.

"Finally, the sin we committed a thousand years ago can be rectified." The tone of his brother's voice was deep and jovial. Nero listened but couldn't help but feel his brother wasn't into it. Memnock didn't suffer. He was reborn with all his memories intact. What did he know about sins? Nero felt his hands shake inside the armor.

"You struck me down and almost doomed the world. Don't put that evil on me." Memnock smiled and stepped out of his shadow and opened the door to the deck. He waved a hand and Nero walked into the light.

"I can't take away your suffering but together we can give meaning to it. To become strong and learn to resist such an insidious enemy the consequences of allowing them to exist must be felt. For seven hundred years the demons propagated and tormented mankind. Now look how far they've come under your banner."

Memnock waved his hand to the fleet of battle barges joining them in the siege of the 9 circles of hell.

"Without great suffering they wouldn't have joined with such fire to drive back the demons. They would be farmers tilling fields, fathers raising children, and husbands loving their wives if they weren't here laying siege."

What his brother saw and what he saw were two very different things.

"What use will they be when I destroy the demons and reclaim Galatea? What place in society will these soldiers have? I'm sure the swordsmen will make fine bandits. Our pilots will play havoc on the merchant ships. Don't play me for a fool brother, I know the fate of warriors with no war." Nero said.

"Don't count your survivors before the battle. You need more sacrifices if you are to take your blade again." A small smile lit up on Nero's face. His eyes flashed with a sudden euphoric rush.

"They've been gathered. Its hours ahead of schedule." Nero said.

"Consider it training for your soldiers. They will make skilled bandits with their growing pillaging and kidnapping skills." Nero frowned at that.

"What they do is work for the good of the world? Demons are hardly the same as humans." Nero said.

"Women and children, babes' fresh off mother's teat, and the infirm must make a fine meal. Any unable to fight off your forces make easy sacrifices." Memnock said.

Nero narrowed his eyes but said nothing. He walked down to the bow of his ship. "If you weren't my brother," He let the threat go unsaid.

Around his neck and glowing with a soft golden light was the only connection he had with his former life. It was the amulet that symbolized his loss at the hands of his brother. When Galatea was knocked from his hands and his power leaked from his body. He hid memories and power within an amulet. Within the trinket was a terrible power. It scraped at his sensibilities and robbed him of justice to use it. But without the power, he would be a mortal in power armor too magnificent to move.

Meng Chen a powerful Dao Persona realm qi expert stood at attention while dozens of film crewman prepared for him. He was the only one he trusted to shoot the media if they fell out of line. Everything was normally reviewed before it left his battle barge Solemn Justice.

The people of the empire lived peaceful lives. Demons rarely crossed the battle lines and those that did were often too weak to do much harm. Those that were truly insidious were struck down long before they crossed the battle line.

It was funny, when he slaughtered villages of demons just a hundred and fifty years ago, the people cheered. Why couldn't they understand, he gave them their comfortable lives?

He needed to slaughter the demons to preserve his life and strength. As a creature of heaven, he couldn't cultivate naturally. If not for the amulet around his neck, he would have died with the rest of the Meng Clan who couldn't adapt. The people needed him just because he drove the enemy to their last stronghold didn't mean it was over. If he withdrew or sued for peace, all the lives lost, and the sacrifices made would be for nothing.

A soldier in black power armor with a yellow stripe ran up to him. His guards placed their hands on their guns before the soldier stopped and kowtowed.

"My lord we have reports of civilians in demon masks tearing down statues in the memorial of heroes." While his informant unmanned himself on his knees, Nero wondered who was too cowardly to send an email. Was this breaking news or manipulation by the media he invited? Was it real or were they attempting to manipulate him? The cameras were rolling while he deliberated his reaction. They had a live feed to the rest of the world.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

"If they want to support the demons then so be it. Gather them and throw them into Black Mountain with the demons we captured. They can show their support to the enemy by feeding them their flesh, pain, and souls." Nero stared into the camera.

The lady reporter had already pissed herself. She knew as did the crew that they weren't long for this world. A shark of a smile crept over his face. The last time this happened he blasted them with his black flare. Even their souls were burned by the purifying flames of punishment. It was unfortunate, he needed them to keep rolling.

"Did you do this Memnock?" Nero growled. He turned his head to see the smug smiling face of his brother. When he regained Galatea, they'd fight again. He promised that.

"No, but I'm sure it'll boost the ratings." He grunted at his brother's apathetic words.

Nero waved his hand and dozens of screens emerged. Within them were the women, children, and the youth of demon kind. One particular demon had white hair and dusky skin. On her left hand was a ring from an old human custom. One that didn't originate on this world. He doubted she knew the significance of the gesture.

The hands of his own guards shook at the sight. After centuries of life their memories were fresh. This was justice.

By taking hold of his amulet, he called upon the oldest of his powers. Golden light poured from the amulet before a terrible shadow gathered. Creeping shadowy hands slipped from the light and reached out for the prisoners.

He no longer saw what was happening on screen. Nero was no longer a man of 300 in power armor. Time rolled back for him and he was Meng Lee once again. A powerless cultivator cut off from the heavens and forced to cower while his mother and sisters were raped. His father roared and sliced open his own throat on his assailant's knife. His sister saw him. She reached out with her hand calling for him.

At the time, he thought he had been a coward. Instead of doing everything he could to save them, he hid. If he had rushed out, then everything he built after would never have happened. Nero would have never driven the demons out. He would not be at the cusp of saving the world.

"I promise, I'll kill each and every one of you." Nero ground out. Slowly, the future played out and he returned to the Solemn Justice. Power buzzed through his veins after his latest sacrifices. He felt good, powerful, and young. The screens went black before he could look at them. At least one thing worked.

His focus drifted from him to the massive rings. "Nine rings stand before me and reclaiming the heavens for the world. Today is the beginning of the end of our crusade. All of you who watched us have made this happen. Let no one doubt that each of you played a small part in our victory. Each of you are members of the celestial imperium of man." Nero prepared to donate the majority of the power he absorbed into a truly powerful spell.

Before them was the first black ring. A halo made of hell forged steel and obsidian. It denied natural laws and hovered high above the earth mocking the heavens themselves. In the early days after he fell, and the heavens were blocked by his fallen sword this first ring was built. With this ring the devils denied heavenly cultivators the chance to free the heavens from Galatea. Eight more rings were built soon after along with the Supreme Celestial Fiend sect.

The first ring was the weakest with the least number of skilled cultivators. This was his tribulation. If he couldn't defeat the first ring what chance had he against the others? He began gathering his qi for a show of force. Two red and black lances of energy struck him from behind. Nero turned around in time to see one of his own guards get sliced in half. Nero's barrier talismans lit up to stop the demi ascended sword qi from slicing him in two.

"So, you're alive More Ian. Black Flare," A great star formed in his hand before shooting forth with extreme speed. Plates of his enemy's armor twisted to form a shield too late. Ten talismans burned up in an instant. Sparks shot out of the plates around More Ian's left arm before falling off. Six of his guards launched themselves at the weakened rebel. The black armored figure waved his hands and unleashed the power More Ian was known for, severing Dao. Red blasts of qi enforced concepts sliced through lesser barriers and Ceranite plating.

Memnock didn't move to help. He merely raised an eyebrow and watched. That was odd, normally Memnock was the first to try to kill the wily rebel.

Nero dawned white form and felt overwhelming power pour through his armor. He punched shattering the remaining talismans and ripping into the black armor of his foe. The sky went black as Ian pulled out covered lamp. He removed the cap and the light of a thousand suns exploded. With no other choice, he relied on his armor and punched out. He was met with punches from Ian, but they weren't strong enough. His armor had had quite a few upgrades since their last fight.

He kicked shattering the armor around his foes leg. The rebel screamed and Nero struck. He laughed as he finally had his worst foe right where he wanted him. His fists ripped away at the armor until he pulled free the soft flesh sac beneath.

Demi ascended hands that could rip a battle barge in two struggled to claw at Nero's armored wrist. Ribs cracked under his grip and the sound was beautiful. He hated More Ian more than any demon. The More family would end with this final death. He charged Black Flare at the end of his finger backed by white forms ferocity. With the true destruction of the concept heart, lungs, and liver no amount of healing would bring More Ian back.

The beam fired and tore a massive hole in the rebel's chest. Best of all the cameras were rolling. Every rebel would see his foe die here and know despair. Nero would save the world and nothing those demon lovers did could stop him.

With a triumphant cry he tore off More Ian's helmet. He saw a silver haired half-blooded demon. The half breed spat out a wad of blood before the light faded from his eyes. This wasn't More Ian. He was a More but not Ian. When they fought Nero noticed his punches were too effective. The flesh of his foe could withstand even a white form empowered black flare. Who was the boy he killed?

Could he be a half demon on a suicide mission? No, the way he fought was too ferocious. It was personal.

Memnock's hand reached out and closed the boy's eyes.

"What are you doing? His head will be an ornament on my ship. I want his eyes wide open." Nero shouted. Memnock slowly drew his sword.

"I have use for his corpse. In exchange for this gift from you to me, I'll give you something in return." Memnock said.

The fighting soon began after that. Demonic battle barges and destroyers blasted their shields and the battle to free the heavens began. Serfs dedicated to the dead took his honored bodyguards down below deck to prepare for their burial rights. Prayers were sung to keep the demonic spirits from possessing the corpses.

"This better be good brother. I lost twelve good men because of that boy." Nero shouted. Memnock raised an eyebrow.

"I've never given a bad gift in my life." He raised his weapon high in the air and the demonic vessels laying fire upon them began to fall. Like puppets with their strings cut they crashed down to earth lifeless. Something pulled them closer to the Solemn Justice before the life was cut away from them.

A column of black baleful qi rose up from the blade. The sun winked out and they were left in moonless night surrounded by stars. Even the light from the stars seemed to decay and vanish until all that was left was the sword in Memnock's hand.

"This is the sword that is the dark. Nothing can escape it not even the fires of hell can challenge Sa-Gi Tta-Ri Us." Memnock shouted.

When his blade swung down the universe returned to normal. Everything below the slash was gone. For tens of thousands of kilometers, the land was ripped apart. The first ring had a chunk missing from it a thousand kilometers wide. Many of their ships were too close. The sides of the vessels were cut open as if struck by a laser. Crewman fell out of the vessels some plummeted to their deaths.

They were his men. Every one of them held a piece of him inside of them. This was like killing parts of Nero. Nero raised his hand to the camera crew. Why should they get to live through this even when so many of his men died?

Black flare swept out and ended the live feed and burned away the souls of the crew. Yes, he knew it was petty. He didn't care. Not only did the attack show a lack of control over the battlefield. Being upstaged by Memnock showed he wasn't the strongest. It brought doubt to the whole campaign. He'd order his assassins to target anyone who spoke about this event. Every recording of this day would be burned.