The battlefield is a brutal place, to say the least. After Riser found himself back in the Underworld, he didn't return to his home or resume his identity as Riser Phenex.
It was too glaring, too obvious.
A Phenex name in the Underworld would lead him straight back to his old life, with all its baggage and everything that came with it.
Now, he is Adolf Riser, with no Phenex in his last name.
His mustache helps conceal his true identity from anyone who might recognize him.
He volunteers to join the ranks through merit, not privilege.
Even though his strength is on par with a high-class devil, in the chaos of war, he is nothing more than cannon fodder.
Serafall Leviathan, on the battlefield, easily eliminates 50,000 Ultimate-Class Devils with effortless grace.
Meanwhile, her predecessor, Tsufaame Leviathan, could annihilate 10,000 Ultimate-Class Devils with ease.
Yet, this same Tsufaame was ultimately slain by Serafall in a single battle during the Civil War of Devils.
Though he is inferior in combat when compared to titans like Azazel, Kokabiel, and Serafall, he still manages to put up a decent fight. His strength as a high-class devil remains intact.
His phoenix flames can obliterate entire mountains, even islands, as he continues to unleash his destructive flames in the ongoing war between devils, fallen angels, and the church members who have joined the fray.
In the midst of the chaotic battlefield, Riser encountered a woman with striking blue hair.
She wore a skintight exorcist uniform in a deep shade of black, the fabric clinging to her form, and wielded a broadsword that gleamed menacingly in her hand.
Her voice cut through the noise like a whip as she screamed at him.
"Die, devil!"
Riser sneered, his phoenix wings flaring out behind him as he took to the air, avoiding her direct charge.
He responded with a wave of phoenix flames, setting the air ablaze and engulfing the girl in a torrent of golden fire.
"Argh…!" Her agonized scream pierced the battlefield, but amidst the carnage, no one seemed to care.
No one, except for one person.
"Xenovia! No...!" Another exorcist, a holy sword wielder, rushed onto the scene, her voice laced with panic.
She sprinted toward Xenovia, desperate to reach her fallen comrade.
However, Riser was not one to give his opponents such an opportunity.
He unleashed another relentless barrage of phoenix flames, forcing the new arrival to dodge with superhuman agility.
She danced through the fire, her movements swift and precise, all while glaring at him with unrestrained fury.
This second girl had chestnut-colored hair styled into twintails, and like Xenovia, she also wore a tight exorcist uniform that left little to the imagination.
Riser couldn't help but pause, deadpanned at the sight.
Dude, what the hell?
Are they here to fight or to seduce men with those ridiculous outfits?
Shaking his head, Riser dismissed the thought.
He had no interest in wasting his time on exorcist girls when there were plenty of fallen angels ripe for the hunt.
Without a word, he flapped his wings and took off, leaving the two women behind.
The chestnut-haired girl sighed in relief as she watched him disappear.
Quickly, she knelt beside Xenovia. Her heart sank at the sight of her friend's burns and her unconscious, battered body.
Yet, Xenovia was still breathing, clinging to life by a fragile thread.
"Thank God," she whispered, her voice trembling as she channeled holy light into Xenovia's wounds, trying to stabilize her. "I'm sorry, Xenovia, but we need to leave this place."
Unbeknownst to her, Riser, who had initially feigned disinterest, had circled back.
With a burst of flame and the distinct roar of his teleportation magic, he reappeared behind her.
His voice was full of mocking glee as he hurled another wave of phoenix fire toward them.
"Surprise, motherfucker!" he bellowed, laughing maniacally.
The exorcist girl turned, her eyes wide with shock.
She instinctively threw her arms around Xenovia, shielding her with her own body.
With her hands occupied and her back exposed, she had no way to defend herself from the incoming inferno.
The flames enveloped her, licking at her uniform and searing her skin as she grit her teeth and bore the pain.
She stood resolute, refusing to let go of Xenovia despite the agony.
Riser scoffed, a cold snort escaping his lips as he flapped his wings and flew off, his laughter echoing in the distance.
However, before he could revel in his victory, a sudden, blinding light engulfed the battlefield.
It was searing, divine, and unbearably intense.
Riser's eyes burned as if pierced by the sun itself.
"Argh...!" He screamed, clawing at his face in pain.
His phoenix flames, once vibrant and unyielding, flickered and died out.
The light burned not only him but also every devil on the battlefield.
Cries of torment echoed all around, but Riser suffered the worst, being so close to the source.
His strength waned, and his body plummeted to the ground like a fallen star.
His vision darkened, and his consciousness faded into nothingness as he collapsed to the ground, the battlefield falling silent in the wake of the blinding light.
...
What happened to his eyes?
Why can't he see anything?
Panic clawed at him as he desperately tried to open his eyes wider, hoping to catch even a sliver of light, but he saw nothing—only the oppressive void of darkness.
"Mister Adolf, don't panic. Take a deep breath. I will do my best to explain," a calm, gentle voice, that of a girl, echoed softly in his ears.
But even that voice seemed distant, as though muffled by something, for not only was his vision obscured, but his hearing, too, was failing him.
He strained, struggling to make sense of her words.
"Don't worry, everything is temporary," she continued, her voice a soothing balm to his rattled mind. "In three days, your sight and hearing will return to you. For now, rest. My beloved painter, from this moment on, let me take care of you."
Riser couldn't grasp what had just happened. Confusion swirled in his mind like an unrelenting storm, but before he could make sense of it all, he felt something soft and warm approach his lips.
It was gentle, tender, and strangely comforting.
He felt his mind unwind, the chaos of his thoughts slowly dissolving into the softness of her touch.
A calming warmth spread through him, his body relaxing as the overwhelming exhaustion took over.
And soon, his consciousness slipped away, the darkness pulling him under, with only the sensation of her arms holding him close.
"Mister Adolf, you're a liar. You told me you wanted to become a painter. What did you want to do joining the war?" the girl complained softly.
She kissed his forehead, hoping to ease his pain as she infused both healing magic and calming magic into his mind.
However, there was only silence and the steady sound of his breathing that she could hear.
She didn't mind. She hummed a song while continuing to take care of her beloved painter, even if it took her forever to do so.
[Don't forget to drop power stones, leave comments, and write reviews if you enjoy this fic.]