With renewed vigor, the soldiers battled back against the devils, including formidable foes like the Chamilós Devils and Kanonikós Devils.
Chamilós Devils, they were the lowest ranks in the Hell Hierarchy, often serving as minions or henchmen for higher ranking devils. Despite their lowly status, they were to be underestimated at their peril.
Kanonikós Devils, though just above the Chamilós Devils in the hierarchy, were formidable in their own right, taking the lead in issuing orders when the more powerful devils were absent.
"Hail the Lord!"
"Praise the Heavens!"
"Eradicate evil!"
The soldiers' shouts rang out with fervor, their words blending into an emotional chorus of faith and determination.
...
As Leben continued down the corridor, he caught snippets of the soldiers' shouts. Annoyed, he sneered.
"Tch. These useless humans, still haven't given up?"
He couldn't understand their relentless determination, finding their refusal to give in pathetic.
As Leben walked, his mind was consumed with disdain for the soldiers' determination.
"Their stupid insistence on standing firm will end soon. They should just quit fighting and die."
He chuckled darkly to himself, confident in the knowledge that danger was lurking in the shadows, ready to take them by surprise at any moment.
He was certain that their blind determination would eventually lead to their pitiful doom.
Leben sneered, his distaste for the humans and their unwillingness to give in clear in his tone.
"Those devils might not be the brightest, but they're certainly not weak. They won't just sit back and accept the humans' stubbornness."
...
Seele's words of encouragement rang out across the battlefield, igniting a new fire within her soldiers.
"My brave soldiers, you are doing splendidly! Keep up the good work and we shall dominate the field!"
The soldiers, bolstered by her words, fought with renewed vigor, feeling invincible under her leadership.
Though the humans had gained the upper hand, the Devils were far from finished. Despite their pain, they continued their relentless attack, refusing to concede defeat.
Their screeches, high pitched and shrill, pierced the air, a chilling sound that echoed their refusal to give in.
The Devils were fiercely prideful, determined to fight on despite the odds against them.
The battlefield was in chaos; wounded soldiers, Devils screeching in pain, and the sounds of weapons clashes echoed across the field.
The humans were doing their part to stay on the offense, fighting with all they had, but the Devils were relentless in their attacks, refusing to back down.
...
The Devils, who moments ago had been filled with determination, suddenly froze, their expressions morphing into ones of terror.
There was a visible shift in their demeanor; their faces paled, sweat trickled down their foreheads. Something had frightened them, but what exactly?
CRACKLEE!
A deafening, piercing sound tore through the battlefield, silencing all movement and noise, as a thick, dark fog consumed the area.
Tick.
The faint sound of water droplets hitting the ground echoed through, the drops growing in both number and volume.
The tension in the air was palpable, every breath held tight as the sense of anticipation hung heavy.
As the dark fog gradually dispersed, the soldiers' gazes fell upon a man clad in black, horns jutting from his forehead. It was clear that he was no ordinary human — he was a devil.
In his hand, he held a massive trident, with which he had impaled a victim, lifting them off the ground.
With a sickening realization, they realized that the droplets they had heard were not water, but blood, as it dripped from the impaled victim into the earth.
The Man Devil stood tall amongst the other Devils, his presence commanding and imposing.
The Kanonikós Devil who knelt before him spoke with trembling awe, their words carefully chosen to avoid offense.
"Lord Dreizack of the Anóteros Devils, we are honoured by your presence. Your aid has come as a much-needed reinforcement."
Anóteros Devils occupy the esteemed third rank in the Hell Hierarchy. They possess distinguishing characteristics, bearing more human resemblance than their subordinates, the Kanonikós Devils. Anóteros Devils hold the exclusive privilege to gain Sins, a power denied to those below them on the hierarchical ladder.
"I've received an assignment. I'm tasked with locating and capturing the New Fallen One. I can sense his presence here."
The Devil's voice was devoid of warmth, his words cold and detached as if they stemmed from the very void itself.
"Fetch him for me, you lowly scum."
Even among Devils, hierarchy reigns supreme, and discrimination runs deep.
"We can assure you, he isn't--"
Before the Kanonikós Devil could utter another word, the Anóteros Devil silenced him permanently, mercilessly severing his head with a swift strike of his trident.
The soldiers stood in stunned silence, their faces drained of color as they witnessed the horrifying spectacle – a devil brutally slaying its own kin. Not even the other Devils could suppress their horror at the macabre display.
CRACKLEE!
The Devil's ominous aura spread outward, a sharp sound accompanying it like an ominous warning.
Intensely, he fixed his gaze upon the remaining Devils, his expression filled with an unbridled malice.
"Bring. Me. The. Fallen."
The Devils, having witnessed the horrific display, didn't dare to hesitate. They were quick to comply with the order, fearing a similar fate.
The soldiers found themselves retreating under the pressure, their struggle becoming increasingly arduous.
Seele moved swiftly, her determination clear as she prepared to fight for her weary comrades.
SHINK!
Her blade sliced through the devils who crossed her path, each movement precise and powerful.
...
Leben, finally reaching the exit, looked back one last time down the lengthy corridors, his face twisted in disdain.
"Good riddance, these irritatingly lengthy corridors. Seriously, did it really take that damn long to find the exit?"
"I never want to set eyes on another damned corridor again."
He gave the corridor behind him one final disdainful look before turning his attention to the door.
With a smirk on his face, he grasped the knob and prepared to finally step out into the freedom that awaited him.
His gaze fell upon the chaotic battle between the soldiers and devils, but his focus was quickly broken by the sighting of the human-like devil.
The devil's gaze returned his stare, the glint of danger in its eyes undeniable.
"One of the seven Fallen..."
The human-like devil muttered the words to himself, his voice barely audible.
The other lower devils, upon hearing it, realized their goal - to capture Leben, the Fallen.
Now, focused solely on their target, then the devils lunged towards Leben, disregarding the other humans as if they no longer existed.
The soldiers bristled at the blatant ignorance from the devils, spurring them to engage in a fierce counterattack.
SHING! SLASH! CLASH!
The sound of blades clashing resounded through the air, the noise both deafening and intense. All the while, Leben, still clinging to his plan of escape, watched the battle unfold.
He attempted to flee, but just as he glanced over his shoulder, a projectile rushed towards him.
SWOOSH!
He barely side-stepped the trident, avoiding the attack with well-timed movement.
His gaze then flicked back to the humanlike devil, only to find a foot hurtling towards his face.
KICK!
The powerful kick connected, throwing Leben back in the air, the impact so great that it could shatter even dense metal.
GAG
He spit out a copious amount of blood, but somehow managed to remain standing.
"What the hell--"
Just as Leben attempted to speak, Dreizack's foot connected with his head once more, silencing him mid-sentence.
He was flung through the air once more, the impact nearly knocking him out.
SPARK!
Suddenly, a familiar stirring stirred within him, a subtle yet familiar feeling. Mysticism. He turned his gaze, noticing a brewing stand nearby. Inspiration struck, and he began to formulate a plan.
He briefly glanced back at Dreizack, noticing the growing intensity of his anger.
He realized something important – Dreizack's Sin was Wrath, and with this knowledge, he knew exactly which potions would be effective against it.
'I can't concoct the potion with him on my tail.'
His eyes darted around, trying to find a way to create distance. Suddenly, he had an idea - scream for help.
He roared out a name.
"Captain!"
His strategy paid off - Seele, upon hearing his call for aid, immediately rushed towards his side, unaware of his identity.
Dreizack flickered his gaze towards Seele's approach. Instinctively, he hurled his trident at her.
SWOOOSH!
But, much to his astonishment, she evaded the attack with a swift dodge. He was utterly baffled - how could a mere human sidestep his fearsome blow?
Dreizack clenched his jaws tightly, angrily recalling his trident back into his grasp.
Infuriated, he sprinted towards Seele, each step propelled by an overwhelming surge of wrath, enhancing his physical might.