Chapter 725: Endless Blood War

Countless ages ago, the first devils began interplanar journeys, greedily attempting to seize everything. They crossed the Karsus Plane and eventually arrived at the Abyss.

It was there they first encountered the tanar’ri demons.

Lawful evil and chaotic evil—two fiendish races whose innate ideologies inevitably clashed, and this manifested in hateful slaughter.

Soon, the devils were nearly wiped out, though a small group escaped back to Baator to report. Both sides became aware of each other’s existence.

At first, the conflict involved only small skirmishes, but soon escalated into regional battles, then into full-scale war. Thus began the most brutal and longest-lasting war in the multiverse—the Blood War.

The war engulfed the entire lower planes. Devils, using swift and disciplined organization, invaded the Abyss, built iron fortresses, and occupied strategic points on the Plains of a Thousand Portals.

But soon, the demons drove them back with sheer numbers, even pushing the frontlines to the plains of Avernus. The war cycled endlessly, seemingly without end, even with the intervention of upper planes and gods.

To this day, the Blood War has raged for countless millennia. Even the oldest histories can’t determine how long; historians speculate it has lasted hundreds of thousands of years.

The eternal war between devils and demons has become a known truth—some even believe it will decide the fate of the multiverse.

As for the cause of the Blood War, historians have dozens of theories: pure hatred, philosophical opposition, lust for control, preemptive strikes...

But the most widely accepted comes from a legendary planeswalker millennia ago:

The Blood War is a manifestation of the conflict between order and chaos—an embodiment of the universe’s essence. It cannot be changed or stopped. That is to say—the war will not end until the universe itself ends.

And now, Cassius was about to take part in this endless Blood War, becoming a soldier in the eternal conflict between order and chaos.

"Your Majesty, time is too short. This is all the information we could gather."

The Tiefling Commander of the Guards, Medrolash, knelt before Cassius, speaking solemnly. Beside him were piles of ancient, tattered books and scrolls.

"This is enough."

Cassius used a spell to manipulate gravity, suspending the documents mid-air as he skimmed through them.

A thin, elderly man in a black robe knelt nearby. His left arm and shoulder had been torn away by something, leaving behind a gruesome wound.

This man’s name was Jude Perk, a scholar specializing in the Abyss captured by Medrolash. He was a complete madman, once sacrificing over a hundred lives for research and even summoning a six-armed marilith into the mortal realm.

He had just finished recounting the history of the Blood War to Cassius.

Now, Jude trembled all over, his voice hoarse. "Your Majesty Cassius... you must be referring to the Lord of the 23rd Layer of the Abyss—the Lord of Rage, the Frost Giant King, Kostchtchie. He is the ruler of the Iron Glacier."

"Kostchtchie..."

Cassius looked thoughtful, pulling a primitive warhammer from the void, revealing a fierce grin. "Perhaps he came for this."

As the hammer appeared, a frost-white mist filled the air, and the temperature dropped to bone-chilling cold.

Jude stared longingly at the warhammer, as if gazing at a lover, and whispered, "That’s... the Frostfather’s weapon, Matalotok—Kostchtchie’s favorite!"

"Your Majesty Cassius, I beg you, lend it to me! This kind of precious research material is..."

His voice grew more excited. He even stretched out his remaining hand, trying to touch the runes on the hammer.

But in that moment, a wave of piercing cold surged, and Jude was instantly frozen into ice, thin cracks forming across his body.

Cassius said casually, "Take this guy to Langpu. Get everything out of his brain.

As for his life—it’s worthless. Just looking at someone tainted by the Abyssal will makes me sick."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Medrolash responded grimly, stood up, and waved his hand. Several Tiefling Eagle Guards carried the ice statue away swiftly and cleanly.

When no one was around, Cassius extended his claw and pulled out the Hell Core from the void. The crimson crystal emitted a blood-red light and morphed into a sharp, bloodstained dagger.

"Time to visit my ally. It’d be bad if Avernus gets breached by the demons."

"Shhhhk—"

With a crisp sound, the dagger sliced space open, forming a massive, scar-like fissure. Crimson light seeped out, as though the wound of space was bleeding.

This was the Gate of Curse—a passage from the Material Plane to Baator, carved open by Cassius with the power of hell.

"Time to see for myself... just what this so-called Blood War really looks like."

Cassius swallowed the Hell Core, folded his wings, lowered his head, and with the space violently shaking, his massive sixty-meter-long dragon body dove into the Gate of Curse.

Baator, First Layer—Avernus.

A landscape of scorched, broken stone, with jagged outcrops and grotesque peaks. Streams of blood flowed across the wasteland, eventually feeding into the River Styx.

The air stank of sulfur, red light flashed everywhere, and even the sky was a bloody crimson.

But this time, half the sky was swallowed by a patchy blackness like storm clouds—on closer inspection, it was actually an endless swarm of demons!

They flapped chaotic wings, crowding the skies of Avernus, their twisted and foul bodies shrouding the land below.

"For the will of the Abyss!"

"Kill them all!"

Chaotic, screeching cries echoed across the wasteland, making the ground tremble.

If a mortal were present, they’d lose their minds before even encountering a demon—those terrifying sounds alone would shatter their sanity, turning them into half-demon abominations.

These winged demons flew fast, with fierce and savage expressions, their cloudy eyes full of hatred—as if chasing something.

Soon, a patch of red-and-black mottled forms appeared beside the River of Blood—it was a legion of devils.

"Quick, follow me!"

"To Oleg Fortress! A legate is stationed there—we might be able to hold the demons off!"

"Damn it! Ever since Lord Zariel died, those Abyssal bastards have gotten bolder!"

These devils wore armor forged from infernal iron and wielded steel tridents—clearly trained, disciplined, elite troops of hell.

They flew in tight formation, bat wings spread, streaking low across the battlefield toward the south.

Even when demons closed in, the devils thrust their tridents backward, piercing the pursuers with hellfire-coated tips.

But there were just too many demons. The dark swarm quickly covered half the sky, leaving the devils nowhere to run.

A muscular, hulking balor wielding a flaming whip burst into wild laughter, his weapon crackling in mid-air.

"Ha ha ha! Cowards of hell, you’re all dead! Without that crazy bitch, the Abyss will conquer Avernus!"

"Rip them apart, you bastards! Or I’ll crush you into sludge myself!"

Due to their chaotic nature, demons are born disorganized. Their military structure is extremely basic, split into two types:

A mighty demon lord capable of crushing lesser demons, and the swarming rabble that follows him out of instinctive fear.

The demon lord picks a target, and the rest pounce, ripping it to shreds no matter the cost—this crude strategy is the best their underdeveloped brains can handle.

So, under the balor’s bone-chilling laughter, demons surged from all sides like a tidal wave, ready to drown the devils in chaos.

"By the Nine Hells! These Abyssal bastards are everywhere!"

"They say over ten million demons have invaded hell this time—and multiple demon lords too! Even Lord Bel couldn’t stop them!"

"Kill them! Carve a path of blood! Slaughter these disgusting bastards!"

Devils brandished their tridents and fought desperately—blood and flame crisscrossed mid-air.

They were truly Avernus’s elite. But faced with enemies numbering in the tens or hundreds of thousands more, even they were torn apart one by one. Blood drenched the ground. Chunks of flesh flew.

Even the balor cracked his whip and charged forward, bellowing, "I’ll kill you all! Avernus is mine!"

"BOOM—"

At that moment, with a thunderous roar as the air exploded, a pillar of blazing white fire shot across the sky, followed by a surge of orange-red flames that swept through the heavens like a crashing tide.

The flames spanned thousands of meters, engulfing more than half the sky, turning it into a roaring inferno, as if it intended to set all of Avernus ablaze.

Even more terrifying was the extreme heat—so intense that even demons with high fire resistance were reduced to ash in the flames that burned everything to cinders.

"No—"

"It’s so hot!"

"Damn it, what the hell is this fire? My wings, my arms, my claws—they’re all burning!"

The demons screamed in agony, struggling in the sea of flames, yet they could not escape death. They were charred in mid-air, ultimately reduced to ash raining down on the ground.

"Demons, you want to conquer Avernus—did you get my permission first?"

A thunderous voice echoed through the sky. It carried overwhelming authority and unmatched grandeur, causing hundreds of lesser demons to fall like rain.

"What is that?"

"Who the hell is it?"

Even the balor commander’s voice trembled before the unknown threat.

In panic, the demons saw a vague silhouette appear in the sea of fire—a towering figure, like a mountain floating in mid-air.

Then the flames parted reverently to both sides, like obedient subjects, revealing the figure’s true form.

—It was an unimaginably massive red dragon, over sixty meters long, its wings blotting out the sky. A mere flap stirred scorching storms.

Its claws were sharp as blades, its massive tail thick and serpentine like a winding mountain range. Its crimson scales glistened under the firelight.

Even the dumbest, most brainless lesser demon could see—it was terrifyingly powerful. Not something they could mess with.

This was a sixty-meter-long dragon!

In a way, size meant power. Even ancient red dragons were barely over half its length, appearing tiny before it.

What was this red dragon before them?

A super-ancient red dragon? The progenitor of red dragons?

Though reckless and battle-hungry, the balor wasn’t stupid enough to throw his life away.

He paused, cautiously raised his head, and said, "Stranger dragon, I am Zand, the Seventh Commander under the Lord of Rage. State your purpose.

Why do you block the path of the Abyssal legions? Why did you slay my soldiers?"

"Oh? And what if I did?"

The red dragon lowered its head, its pale golden eyes glaring down at the balor, filled with undisguised arrogance.

The balor grew angry but dared not lash out. He growled in a low voice, "Do you intend to interfere with the great Blood War?

Dragon, you’d best consider carefully—can you withstand the wrath of a Demon Lord?"

Zand knew he was no match for the dragon, so he invoked the name of his superior, hoping to intimidate it into retreating.

The devils noticed this and hurriedly approached the dragon, speaking reverently, "Mighty dragon, these Abyssal bastards are insulting you. They arrogantly think you’re beneath a Demon Lord!

Do they really think a mere name can frighten such a mighty dragon? This is blatant provocation! They must die for disrespecting your majesty!"

The devils played their talent for sowing discord to perfection—even Cassius had to admire it.

The balor lashed his whip, roaring angrily, "You cunning hellspawn! I’ll tear you all to pieces later!"

Unexpectedly, Cassius just sneered at the balor and casually said, "Alright then—kill all these demons."

Upon hearing the dragon’s words, the devils’ eyes lit up instantly.

The balor, however, looked panicked and snarled, "Dragon, is it worth it? Will you really oppose the Abyss for such ridiculous reasons?"

"No. That doesn’t matter." Cassius shook his head, fire flickering in his pale golden eyes. He grinned and uttered that famous line—

"What does destroying you have to do with me?"