While Thomas continued his relentless assault in one corner of Ferrus, the battle raged fiercely across other zones of the planet. The war for the Demon Sovereign title spread its chaotic tendrils far and wide, each zone a theatre of brutality and skill, where candidates fought with everything they had to survive and emerge victorious.
In a rocky wasteland dotted with jagged cliffs and treacherous ravines, Saros moved with the precision of a seasoned warrior. His eyes, sharp and calculating, scanned the battlefield, assessing the threats with cold efficiency. He was a master of elemental manipulation, and the ground beneath his feet trembled in response to his power.
A group of demons charged at him, their forms varied and grotesque. One had skin that seemed to be made of molten lava, another had wings like a bat and eyes that glowed an eerie green. Saros raised his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the ground split open, swallowing his attackers in a chasm of molten rock. Their screams were short-lived as the lava consumed them, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.
A shadow fell over Saros, and he looked up to see a giant, armored demon wielding a massive spiked club. The demon roared and brought the club down with a force that could shatter mountains. Saros sidestepped gracefully, the club smashing into the ground, sending shockwaves through the earth. Before the demon could recover, Saros summoned a spear of solid stone from the ground, driving it through the demon's chest. The giant demon bellowed in agony before disintegrating into dust, transported back to the Demon Palace.
Saros wiped the sweat from his brow, his lips curling into a smug yet contained expression. He had already taken down scores of opponents, and his confidence was unshaken.
Meanwhile, in a dense, shadowy forest where the canopy blocked out the light, Arryn fought with the ferocity of a lioness. Her four arms moved in perfect harmony, each one wielding a different weapon. Her movements were fluid and deadly, a dance of death that left a trail of bodies in her wake.
A demon with serpentine features slithered towards her, its fangs dripping with venom. Arryn met its gaze with unflinching determination, swinging her sword in a wide arc that severed the serpent demon's head from its body. The headless corpse fell to the ground, twitching before it vanished in a flash of silver light.
Arryn barely had time to catch her breath before a demoness with wings of fire descended upon her, claws extended. The heat from the flames singed her skin, but Arryn did not falter. She raised her mace and brought it down with crushing force, the impact extinguishing the flames and breaking the demoness's bones. With a final, decisive strike of her spear, she ended the demoness's suffering.
A group of smaller, faster demons tried to overwhelm her with their numbers, but Arryn's four arms moved in a blur, parrying, striking, and blocking with unparalleled skill. She dispatched them one by one, their bodies dissolving into ash as they were transported away.
As the last of her opponents fell, Arryn stood amidst the carnage, her chest heaving with exertion. Despite the relentless assault, she had emerged unscathed, her resolve as unyielding as ever.
In a desolate canyon filled with swirling sands and treacherous winds, Phil'ho moved like a shadow, his presence barely detectable. Cloaked in darkness, he blended seamlessly with his surroundings, his movements almost ghostly in their silence. He was a master of stealth and deception, and his opponents never saw him coming.
A hulking brute of a demon, covered in spiked armor, lumbered through the canyon, searching for prey. Phil'ho appeared behind him, a whisper of death. With a swift, precise motion, he drove a dagger into the demon's neck, severing its spine. The brute fell without a sound, its body disintegrating before it hit the ground.
Phil'ho's eyes glinted with cold amusement as he watched another demon, this one with multiple eyes and limbs, frantically search for him. He moved silently, striking from the shadows, his blades finding their marks with deadly precision. The multi-limbed demon let out a gurgling cry as Phil'ho slit its throat, sending it back to the Demon Palace in a burst of light.
A pair of demons, twins with mirrored movements, attacked him in unison. Phil'ho danced around their synchronized strikes, his movements a blur. He feinted left, then struck right, his dagger finding the heart of one twin. As the other twin hesitated, Phil'ho was upon him, ending the fight with a quick, brutal slash.
Phil'ho cleaned his blades, his expression hidden beneath his cloak. The wind howled through the canyon, carrying the scent of blood and death. He moved on, a silent reaper in the night.
As the battle continued across Ferrus, Saros stood amidst the wreckage of his latest battlefield, a smug yet contained expression on his face. He had cleared this zone of all challengers, his power and skill unmatched. He glanced around, taking in the silence that followed the storm of violence.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him shuddered, and Saros felt a strange, overpowering force. He tried to comprehend what was happening, but it was beyond his understanding. A shadow loomed over him, and he felt a touch on his shoulder. Pain, unlike anything he had ever experienced, coursed through his body, overwhelming his senses.
Before he could react, his artifact activated, transporting him back to the Demon Palace. He landed in the lobby, gasping for breath, his body trembling from the residual pain. His mind raced, trying to comprehend what had just happened. The touch, the pain, and the overwhelming power, it was unlike anything he had ever encountered. As he lay on the ground of the Demon Palace lobby, gasping for breath, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him. All he could think of was the horror he felt, mumbling words like "Not demon" over and over again.
Back on Ferrus, where Saros had stood moments before, the fair-faced individual with long hazel hair, emerald green eyes, and a scaled body of light skin tone appeared. The figure gave a bright, captivating smile, nodding with a mix of satisfaction and disdain.
"This is too easy," the mysterious figure said, their voice a melodious blend of amusement and contempt. "I can barely get a sweat out of these lower-realm vermin. Hoping my target can give a better fight."
With that, the figure vanished into the chaos of the battlefield.