Chapter 648: The Fear Of Sol, Is The Beginning Of Wisdom

At the Prince of Wrath’s residence, Kazier and Belial sat opposite each other, sharing a cup of wine.

The room was richly decorated, its walls lined with weapons and trophies collected from previous campaigns. A tray of refreshments rested on the table between them, though neither Prince had paid much attention to the food.

Their conversation had been interrupted by the explosion, and both had turned toward the window with expressions that had grown cold in an instant.

Kazier’s reptilian eyes narrowed.

"That rascal! He dares act in the Imperial Capital?"

His roar shook the wine in his cup.

Belial, seated opposite him, was considerably less agitated. The Envy Prince slowly rotated his cup between his fingers, watching the distant light with a thoughtful expression.

"Even if he acts, do we dare confront him?"

Kazier’s anger faltered.

For a moment, he seemed ready to argue. Then he remembered exactly who they were discussing.

Kazier’s face turned pale. He looked away and emptied his cup in one long swallow, his expression twisted with annoyance.

"Let’s wait a little longer and see what the Dukes plan to do."

Belial nodded.

"I agree. Once the others step in, we can join them."

Neither Prince offered to move first.

They had both spent too long surviving the politics of the Underworld to mistake courage for wisdom. If the Imperial Court and the Dukes could restrain Sol, they would gladly lend their support afterward. If they could not, then rushing to his side would accomplish little beyond adding their names to the list of casualties.

For now, watching was the wiser choice.

In another residence west of the Imperial Capital, Aien lay comfortably with his head resting on the lap of a succubus attendant. His eyes were half closed, and his expression suggested that the affairs of the world had become a distant inconvenience.

Brolly sat on a sofa nearby, surrounded by an assortment of delicacies. The table before him was crowded with roasted meat, pastries, fruit, and several large containers of wine. He had been enjoying his meal with his usual enthusiasm, seemingly unconcerned with the political developments that had occupied the Council of Princes.

Then the explosion reached them and Brolly stopped eating.

The rib steak in his hand remained suspended halfway between the plate and his open mouth. His jovial expression vanished, and his face stiffened as he turned toward the ceiling.

Aien slowly opened one eye. He stared upward with a dull expression, listening to the distant rumble that rolled across the city.

For several seconds, neither Prince spoke. Then Aien closed his eye again and sighed.

"All that bastard had to do was wait two more days, and we could have left this place peacefully. Goddammit."

He lifted his head from the attendant’s lap and turned toward his Grand Chamberlain, who had been standing near the door.

"Lock the doors and gates. If anyone asks, I’m not around."

The chamberlain hesitated.

"Your Highness, should we—"

"Did I stutter?"

"No, Your Highness."

The chamberlain bowed and hurried away.

Brolly slowly lowered the rib steak.

"Me too."

Aien glanced at him.

"You’re going to hide in my residence?"

Brolly looked at the distant glow beyond the window.

"Of course. I haven’t finished eating."

Aien stared at him for a moment before lying back down.

"Fair enough."

Neither Prince made any attempt to leave.

Back at the Northern Palace, the explosion had reduced the entire residence to a massive, scorched pit.

The surrounding buildings had collapsed, leaving heaps of broken stone and twisted metal scattered across the ground. Smoke rose from the crater, and the air was thick with the scent of burning masonry and evaporating demonic energy.

Yet at the very centre of the destruction, Sol remained seated.

His throne had changed.

It was now a magnificent golden structure with broad armrests and an elevated platform at its base. Intricate patterns covered its surface, and the golden light radiating from it cast long shadows across the crater. Leo lay comfortably on the platform beneath the throne, his hands resting behind his head as though he were lounging in a garden rather than sitting in the middle of a destroyed palace.

Slowly, the throne began to rise.

It ascended from the twenty-metre-deep crater without the slightest disturbance, carrying Sol and Leo above the scorched ground. The soldiers surrounding the perimeter watched in disbelief as the golden structure emerged from the smoke.

One soldier stumbled backward.

"You can’t be serious!"

"This can’t be real!" another screamed.

A third stared at the crater, his voice breaking as he spoke.

"Everyone... including Commander Lu... they’re all dead!"

"Forget the dead! He’s flying!" another soldier retorted. "We have a null-gravity array active! How is he flying?"

"Fool! He’s using an external source for flight!" someone shouted. "And who the hell are you to say ’forget the dead’? My uncle was among them!"

The complaints, whispers, and screams spread through the army. Soldiers looked toward their commanders, waiting for an explanation that none of them could provide.

Duke Riot remained silent.

His expression had not changed, but his grip on the black spear had tightened. Several captains approached him, their faces drawn with concern as they waited for instructions.

Above the crater, Sol’s golden throne remained suspended in the air. His cold gaze settled on Riot.

"Riot. To think you accepted the job and came after me." Sol sneered. "You have grown bold in the past century."

Riot looked up at him without flinching.

"I haven’t changed. You’re the one who has changed."

His voice carried across the crater.

"The Prince of Aurelios I remember was prideful, not foolish. He would never have dared set foot in the Imperial Capital without considering the consequences. What happened to you? Did you grow bored of living?"

Sol burst into laughter. The sound echoed across the ruined palace, carrying a mockery so complete that several soldiers felt their anger turn into unease.

"Old man," Sol said, shaking his head, "this Tyrant can come and leave as he pleases. Do you dare stop me?"

Riot’s expression remained cold.

"YES, I DARE!"

He raised his black spear.

"Demonic Array: Devil Canopy!"

The soldiers surrounding the crater immediately moved into position. Hundreds of demonic inscriptions ignited beneath their feet, linking together in a vast formation that stretched across the ruined grounds. A crimson pillar erupted from the centre of the crater, rising toward the sky before expanding into a colossal barrier.

The structure enclosed Sol and Leo within a towering canopy of crimson light.

Its surface shimmered with layers of densely packed inscriptions, each one connected to the soldiers powering the formation. The barrier extended from the bottom of the crater to the heavens above, sealing the two Princes inside.

Leo raised his head and examined it with interest.

"Ooh? When was the last time we witnessed a barrier like this?"

Sol rested his chin against his palm.

"When I tried to snatch the Dragon Throne three thousand years ago."

He smiled faintly.

"I must admit, it’s a pretty decent barrier."

The Devil Canopy was among the most dangerous demonic arrays in existence. Its purpose was not simply to imprison an opponent, but to turn the enemy’s strength against them.

The barrier allowed attacks from outside to pass through, but prevented attacks from within from escaping. Any attack launched against its inner surface would be absorbed, broken down into demonic energy, and distributed among the hundreds of demons maintaining the formation. The greater the attack, the more energy the array could redirect to its casters.

That was what made it so dangerous.

An opponent might possess enough power to destroy an ordinary barrier, but the Devil Canopy did not simply resist such attacks. It converted their destructive force into additional energy for the formation. Unless someone possessed demonic reserves exceeding the combined power of the demons sustaining it, breaking free through brute force was nearly impossible.

Sol’s smile widened as he examined the crimson walls.

He remembered the array well.

Three thousand years ago, it had been deployed against him during his attempt to seize the Dragon Throne. Back then, it had been a genuine obstacle. He had needed considerable effort to escape it.

But three thousand years was a long time and Sol was no longer the same demon who had stood before the Dragon Throne.

Riot raised his spear toward the sky.

"Artillery units! Eradicate this vermin!"

The army erupted into motion.

Heaven-Sundering Cannons rolled toward the crater, their barrels glowing as the operators activated the internal formations. Devil Ballistas were assembled along the perimeter, their enormous bolts radiating concentrated demonic energy. Demon Fire Carts advanced behind them, their metal reservoirs filling with crimson flames.

Soldiers hurried to secure the artillery positions while the formation’s casters maintained their concentration. Thousands of demons worked in coordinated movements, preparing to unleash a barrage powerful enough to erase the golden throne and everything around it.

Throughout the preparations, Sol continued laughing.

Riot’s expression darkened.

"What’s so amusing?"

Sol tilted his head.

"Riot, how many soldiers are maintaining this barrier as we speak?"

The Duke’s eyes narrowed.

"That is none of your concern."

Sol’s smile disappeared. His golden gaze sharpened, and for the first time since the battle began, a trace of murderous intent spread across the crater.

"FOR YOUR SAKE, I HOPE IT’S ALL THE DEMONS IN THE IMPERIAL CAPITAL! THE PRINCES INCLUDED!"

FALSE SUN!

Sol’s figure vanished beneath an expanding sphere of golden brilliance.

A miniature sun appeared in his place, its surface blazing with an intensity that distorted the air around it. The Devil Canopy immediately began expanding, its crimson walls stretching outward as the array struggled to contain the overwhelming energy accumulating within its boundaries.

The soldiers maintaining the formation cried out as orange cracks appeared across their skin.

At first, they were thin lines, barely visible beneath their armour. Then they spread rapidly, branching across their faces, necks, and limbs as their bodies began to glow from within.

The five thousand demons powering the Devil Canopy had no time to react. Their cries of pain merged into a single, terrible chorus.

One after another, their bodies ruptured, releasing violent bursts of demonic energy that tore through the ranks surrounding the crater.

Riot’s face went pale as the Devil Canopy trembled.

The crimson barrier, which had seemed indestructible only moments earlier, began to fracture. Violent cracks spread across its surface, each one widening as the false sun continued to expand.

The formation’s remaining casters desperately attempted to reinforce the barrier, but the energy required to maintain it had already exceeded their limits.

Riot understood what was happening.

The Devil Canopy had been designed to absorb an opponent’s attacks and distribute the resulting energy among its casters. But Sol’s power had overwhelmed the reserves of the casters. With the casters dead, there was no one left to maintain the barrier!

"RETREAT!" Riot screamed. "EVERYONE, RETREAT!"

He and his commanders had already begun moving away from the crater, abandoning the artillery positions as they fled.

For the rest of the army, however, the warning came too late.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

The Devil Canopy shattered.

A colossal sun burst from the ruined formation, its golden radiance swallowing the crater and spreading across the surrounding districts. The shock wave tore through the army, overturning artillery pieces and ripping soldiers from their feet. The remaining barriers disintegrated beneath the force, and the ground split apart as the energy swept outward.

The explosion was so immense that the false sun could be seen from almost anywhere in the Imperial Capital.

For one terrible moment, the entire city was bathed in gold.

Then came the screams.

The haunting cries of the dying echoed across the capital, rising above the roar of collapsing buildings and the thunder of the explosion. Demons who had never seen the battlefield froze in the streets, staring toward the northern horizon as the light reflected in their eyes.

In his residence, Kazier stood motionless beside the window.

Belial’s cup slipped from his fingers and shattered against the floor.

Aien opened both eyes.

Brolly slowly lowered his food.

And inside his palanquin, Damian’s expression turned colder as the golden radiance filled the window.

The Tyrant Prince had finally made his move and the Imperial Capital was about to learn the price of challenging him.