“Have you went mad, human?!” a deep voice thundered with desperation, betraying a note of fear. Terror, even. 

The reply, in contrast, was chillingly calm, “Absolutely yes.”

At the heart of the Central Continent stood Nether Vertex—the highest mountain of Neo Terra. The majestic capital of the Sin Empire build on the mountain’s summit was currently filled with rivers of blood and mountains of corpses. Human and demon alike. And in the middle of this scene of carnage, only two figures were left standing. 

“Gha-ha-ha-ha, not a moment of hesitation!” the laughter of the Demon Emperor was extremely forced. Hardly surprising, considering that he had already lost four of his six arms and had a large hole where his stomach should be. “You are completely insane, Noir Exodus! You led your people to their graves, and now you’re going to follow them! And for what? To take my life?! It doesn’t even matter if I die!” “Your death will signify the start of a new era,” the man—the strongest human being—replied, as he prepared his dual swords. “The era of humanity.”

Despite being covered in countless wounds and losing his left eye, the living legend—demon hunter Noir Exodus—still was in a better state than his opponent and exuded a mind-blowing amount of Mana. Except, his power was corrupted and chaotic, even more than that of any demon. He had absorbed a few too many Demon Cores than his body could handle. He was a goner, whether he won or lost this fight. Or rather, whether he won or won. 

The Demon Emperor stopped laughing. He looked at Noir expressionlessly, regaining a hint of its lost dignity as the sole ruler of all demonkin. “An era of humanity? And? What next? Let’s say you’re right, what does it matter? You can’t get rid of my kind. It’s only a matter of time before we’re back. Be it Demon Lords, Demon Kings, or Demon Emperor, those aren’t just titles. Those names represent existences that are supported by our planet herself. She—Neo Terra—needs us. We are her children. Not you dirty invaders.” 

The two of them weren’t talking just out of boredom. Both were preparing for the final bout of their mortal battle. The Emperor had already restored two of his arms, while the demon hunter took control over his rampaging Mana.

“No matter how short of a reprieve my people get, my sacrifice will be worth it,” Noir replied as he closed his only remaining eye. “I’ll die without regrets as long as I take you with me.”

“Dream on!” the demon roared as he mustered the last vestiges of his Mana and charged at the human. Simultaneously, a weapon materialized in each of his remaining four hands—a halberd, a sword, an axe, and a mace. His eyes lost all traces of reason and burned with violet flames as he re-activated his SSS-Tier Asura’s Wrath. His wounds, exhaustion and anger at the human facing him became a source of strength powering his entire being, bringing all his physical attributes to their possible peak. Despite having many fancy Skills, at this last moment he only used the Racial Ability of his Clan, pouring everything he had into it and overcoming the physical limits of his Tier and Level. 

For a moment, Noir stayed motionless. His didn’t open his only eye and didn’t move his swords, standing still like a statue. The only change was that the chaotic energies surrounding his body disappeared inside his two swords, as if being completely absorbed by them. Then, the demon hunter made a single step forward. A step so fast that for a normal person that would look no different from a teleportation. A step that brought him a hundred meters forward. 

The Demon Emperor wasn’t in time to react when Noir had moved, so  they ended up passing each other. The demon barely managed to stop himself, burying his feet into the ground. He turned his body towards the human and was about to rush for another attack, when he noticed that his adversary was standing unmoving, his back wide open. 

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The demon hunter whispered, “Dual Swords of Demon Extermination: Myriad Slashes, One Bloom.” And then his two exquisite and seemingly indestructible weapons crumbled to dust. The Demon Emperor had stopped for a simple reason—he could no longer feel anything from his enemy. Nothing. Noir Exodus was already dead.

And sure enough, master followed his swords soon after. Starting from his fingertips, he started to fade away into nothingness. It wasn’t any sort of teleportation or stealth Skill. Being unable to withstand the overload, his body started to disintegrate alongside his black and bloody armor. The Demon Emperor silently watched the last moment of his nemesis, the effect of his Asura’s Wrath already turned off. 

“Heh,” the demon chuckled before bursting into a crazy laugh, “ghe-he-he-he! Gha-ha-ha-ha! Foolish human! I was afraid for nothing. There was no way you could control so much power, you idiot! Now you are dead and I’m not. What should I do next? Should I recover a bit before finding your remaining allies and making them learn what Hell is? Or should I—”

The demon’s monologue abruptly ended. He didn’t have the chance to complete his little speech, for his entire body exploded into countless tiny pieces. It was as if his body was cut from the inside by millions upon millions of tiny blades. Even his SSS-Tier Core—something usually considered as indestructible—didn’t escape this fate. Just like this, while gloating at his victory, the Thirteenth Demon Emperor, Razen von Satan, was dead. 

And so, the Third Great War was over. Both parties had lost their leaders, but overall it was an overwhelming victory for humanity and the Virtue Alliance. 

***

Darkness. Absolute darkness. The last thing Noir Exodus could remember was him finishing off his mortal enemy—Razen von Satan—using his ultimate technique. He had sacrificed everything to achieve that victory. The only thing he regretted was not seeing the moment when his opponent died, but there was no a shred of doubt about the results. His fully-charged “Myriad Slashes, One Bloom” wasn’t something that could be survived. By anything. 

Is this an afterlife? Noir thought. People say that there’s a light at the end of a tunnel, but all I see is darkness. 

Noir tried to focus his attention on his five senses, but something was wrong. His thought were extremely slow, and his mind was constantly fluctuating between consciousness and unconsciousness. He tried to move, but his body didn’t listen to him. Not right away, at least. His hands felt strange and way too short, his legs were more like two stumps of meat. Also, he felt something growing on his back. The only thing he had control over was his eyelids—he could blink, but it was a completely useless ability at the moment. 

What’s going on? Noir thought, but there was no one to reply. The world was as quiet as it was dark. Status. 

Both shockingly and obviously, nothing appeared before him. There was no familiar screen of the System that would show him his current capabilities and condition. Why would he need to know them in an afterlife anyway? 

After an undefined period of time, Noir managed to force himself to twitch his finger. It was as if he was learning to move from zero. He also realized that his hand only had four fingers instead of four. Normally that would’ve surprised him, but at the moment he decided to keep his rational thinking to a minimum. It seemed that it took too much energy from his disproportional body—his head comprised around one-third of his entire size. 

His hearing caught sounds outside of his mysterious prison just when he got used to moving his limbs. At the same time, a barely tolerable hunger assaulted him. He needed to eat something. Anything. And for that, he first needed to escape. 

Trying not to think about the changes to his body—or about anything, really—Noir started to scratch the smooth surface of his container. It was hard, but not enough to resist his claws for too long.

Claws? A rare passing thought emerged just before disappearing, completely submerged by primal instincts. 

The world outside the shell was filled with noises of scratching and scrunching. The former was the same sound he was creating himself as he continued his attempt to break out. 

Sooner or later, the barrier before Noir crumbled. At first, just a small piece of the spherical wall fell down. Defying his expectations, he wasn’t met with a bright light the moment he created an opening. The outside world was almost as dark as the insides of his prison. Almost. 

After the first breach in the seemingly impenetrable barrier, the rest fell soon after. Noir barely needed any effort to break the rest of his shell. The rest of his egg. Yes, the egg. He hadn’t been put into a container or a prison. He was a creature living inside its egg. And that creature was now free. 

Noir’s head left his egg first. His eyes managed to catch the slightest amounts of dim violet light inside the cave, and so he could see his surroundings for the first time. A small cave with dozens of eggs—not unlike his own—splattered around it and with a single luminescent crystal at the tip of a stalactite at the center. 

Some of the eggs were already broken open and from them smallish and evil-looking creatures had already hatched. Demonlings. And he, Noir Exodus, was now one of them.