About an hour ago...

The lich of the Cult of Bones emerged from his Magus Tower after centuries. The moment he set foot outside the secret plane, it was all but confirmed that the great world war had, at last, entered its final stages.

"So it’s finally happening," The Stone Lord, Leland Haynam, muttered in a solemn voice.

Though he appeared calm and composed on the outside, the faint flicker of anxiety in his eyes betrayed his inner feelings.

It would be a lie to state that he wasn’t nervous. He was one of the few people who was privy to what the Cult Leader had planned for this world.

The negative feelings associated with playing a part in sacrificing almost ten billion souls trumped the feelings of joy and excitement of finally leaving for the Greater Universe.

But the die had been cast, and there was no turning back.

"Scared?" The Wind Lord, Alain Gray, turned to him and sneered.

Before Leland could reply, a cold voice that seemed to contain boundless bloodlust echoed in Alain’s ears.

"You’re so brave, aren’t ya?" The Blood Lord, Marden Benton, spoke with a crooked smirk. "I wonder if you’ll still be brave if I flay your skin and harvest your blood."

Alain turned to Marden and couldn’t help but feel a chill creep down his spine. On the surface, the Blood Lord appeared to be the same man he always was — tall, broad-shouldered, with black hair and dark brown eyes.

But underneath it all... he seemed different. It was as if a terrifying beast slumbered inside of him.

Alain’s eyes narrowed as he looked into Marden’s eyes. Shades of carmine were faintly visible in the depths of his brown eyes. The roots of his dark hair had turned red.

"You damned monster," he spat in disgust. "Just what the hell have you been up to these past years?"

Marden raised his hand and glanced at his sharp, pointed nails. "Oh, you know," he began. "Drinking blood. Bathing in it. Playing with it. I’ve taken quite a liking to flesh, though. Specifically... human flesh. Would you like to try it sometime, my dear Alain?"

It took all of Alain’s strength to prevent himself from shuddering. With a look of sheer disgust, he harrumphed and turned away. "Fuckin’ animal."

The Blood Lord chuckled in amusement.

"You’ve changed." Leland’s voice echoed in his ears.

Marden turned to him slowly. Leland was one of the few people in this world whom he could call his friend. No... he was his only friend.

"A pity," The Blood Lord murmured softly.

He was about to continue when suddenly, a terrifying and overwhelming aura descended from the sky. The three Elders didn’t even look to confirm who it was. They quickly got down on one knee.

A moment later, with a resounding thud, a towering figure in black armor and cape landed before them.

The Cult Leader had arrived.

He turned his bony head every so slightly, the pair of green orbs in his socket constricting as they locked on to Marden. "Is everything ready?"

"Yes, great master." Marden lowered his head further. "All five portals are fully functional."

"Five?" The lich’s voice turned cold.

Marden gulped nervously. Regardless of how much his strength had increased over the years, in front of the lich, he still felt... inferior.

"Indus is already yours, my lord," he began in a steady voice.

"The population of that continent has already been turned into undead. There’s no point in keeping the portal running. The mana crystals we received from the devil are limited, so it’s better to use them on the remaining portals. The one we would have spent on Indus can be held in reserve for emergencies."

Heavy silence descended. The Stone Lord and the Wind Lord held their breaths. Their master was unpredictable, and they didn’t know how he would react to Marden suddenly taking such initiative. They also felt that it was strange that Marden hadn’t followed the lich’s orders to the letter.

A few moments passed. At last, the lich turned around. "Very well," he said.

Marden heaved a sigh of relief. He knew that although the lich had turned half-mad, he’d still see the merits of keeping a portion of the mana crystals in reserve.

"Let us begin," said the lich as he walked deeper into the palace, heading downstairs.

They arrived at a vast, cavernous chamber hundreds of meters beneath the capital. On Leland’s orders, all the citizens had been evacuated from the city almost a month ago.

It was not that the Cult suddenly cared for these people, but that killing them now would serve little purpose.

At the center of the chamber hovered a giant blue portal. Beneath the floating gateway, a dense and complex array of runes had been carved into the ground. At the edge of the chamber, mana crystals lay in heaps.

"Begin," the lich muttered coldly.

"Aye, my lord." Marden nodded as he prepared the runic formation.

He then continued speaking in an instructive voice, seemingly to himself.

"The six portals across the six continents are linked through powerful rune magic," he said. "This one right here is the primary node. With the mana crystals fueling it, I can remotely activate the other portals across the world."

Leland and Alain suddenly sensed that the mana crystals lining the wall had begun to tremble. Anticipation gripped their hearts as their eyes locked onto the shimmering portal.

"Of course, the mana crystals in our possession are not nearly enough to sustain keeping five portals open for long enough for the devil’s army to cross into our world. That is why the devils are also burning through more mana crystals on the other side... in Hell."

Several minutes later, Marden began weaving the hand seals — an act that took him nearly thirty minutes. Nothing could go wrong, so he performed each seal very slowly.

At last, the final seal had been woven. The mana crystals gathered in the chamber drained quickly, fueling the massive runic formation on the ground. A minute later, the blue portal rippled once. Then the color shifted to an ominous red.

A direct gateway to the Nine Hells had formed!

As countless figures became visible from the depths of the portal, Marden lowered his head slightly, hiding the gleam in his eyes.

The ghostly silhouettes of the Benton Family still clung to him, staring at him with hatred and resentment. But he ignored them.

Only one thought echoed in his mind:

Finally... the time has come.