Hell is empty, and the devils are here.

Elena stared at the ravaged landscape, the words echoing hollowly in her mind.

"So this is how it ends," she could help but whisper as she stared at her surroundings.

The once-clear blue sky was now a violent tapestry of crimson and obsidian. Lush meadows were replaced by a macabre tapestry of scorched earth and countless corpses, a charnel ground fit for the damned. Buildings, the pride of a thousand-year reign, crumbled like sandcastles under an unseen assault.

Would anyone believe that the Curdo Empire, a beautiful and powerful empire, has come into ruins?

Everyone might laugh at her if she told people that.

The once vibrant capital was a graveyard, the air thick with the stench of decay and the metallic tang of blood.

Limping and weary, Elena searched for any sign of life in this apocalyptic wasteland. It was a futile effort. Even the scavengers, those morbid opportunists, were absent from this feast of death.

'So why do I keep moving forward?' she could help but ask herself in wonder.

All she could think was what she was doing in this hot, sticky and disgusting place. Even she, herself, could not fathom her thought process.

Cough... cough...

A choked cough broke the oppressive silence. Not hers, but from the burden she carried on her back. His breathing shallow, each gasp a struggle.

"You could have... just left me," his voice barely whispered.

Elena ignored him, her jaw clenched tight. Then she remembers why she is here, in this place she used to curse. She ignored the voice coming from her back as her gaze darted towards the rising smoke in the distance, a desperate hope flickering within her.

Another cough, punctuated by a broken laugh, rattled from Lucian's throat. "You don't have to... pretend anymore," he rasped.

"Yeah, I know," she muttered, her voice devoid of emotion and a touch of languidness. As if she wasn't paying attention.

Well, in fact. She really wasn't paying attention. Pretense was a luxury she couldn't afford. Every ounce of her remaining strength was focused on reaching the temple before her time ran out. Before he found them.

She isn't going to entertain his delusion for now.

"This isn't your fault," the man could help but mumble, his voice thick with a misplaced sense of absolution.

Elena scoffed. "Of course, how could it be my fault when I wasn't even here when this tragedy happened." she snapped and rolled her eyes. "My dear, it's yours and not mine."

There was a moment of silence before laughter broke out. "Haha.. you've changed." he laughed loudly and it almost took his strength and breath away.

"Yeah, and you have become senile. I didn't dare imagine the famous cold-hearted and bloodthirsty sword saint of the empire to reduce into this. A half-corpse with a soft heart." Elena sarcastically replied.

The man winced, as if struck physically. "Cold-hearted... bloodthirsty..." he echoed, his voice trailing off.

Elena didn't wait for his response. The climb was arduous, a never-ending ascent over a mountain of lifeless bodies. The stench grew more putrid, the air thick with the cloying sweetness of decay. Yet, with each agonizing step, a single question loomed larger: would she reach it in time?

"Just leave me here," he rasped, a desperate edge to his voice. "It would lighten your load."

Annoyance flared in Elena's chest. "Old age must have addled your brain. If you can't be helpful, at least have the decency to shut up." Her voice was a low growl.

"Elena..." he started, "You know I'm a dead man now..."

Elena stooped in her tracks as she turned her head to glare at him. "You cannot die without my permission, Lucian." her voice was filled with anger, "If you are going to die, you are going to die by my hand. Always remember that." she clenched her fist, making her knuckles crack.

"Now, if you have nothing good to say my dear, I prefer you to zip your mouth and be quiet." Elena smiled but her voice was filled with irritation and coated in threat.

"I..."

"Another word from you, my dear and you will see what hell truly likes." she didn't disguise her threatening words with a smile.

Gulp.

She heard him gulp but then fell silent.

'Good,' she couldn't help but muttered. Nodding in satisfaction, she walked forward.

Relief washed over Elena but it didn't take long to be shattered by a new sound that sent chills down her spine. A chilling, raspy cackle, tinged with a hint of amusement. "Well, well, well... look who we have here."

Elena couldn't pierce the thick miasma, but she felt a malignant presence emanating from the left side of the mountain of corpses. A prickling sensation crawled up her spine, a premonition of dread. Then, the miasma swirled away, ripped apart by an unseen force. In the sudden clarity, a monstrous figure emerged from the haze.

Unlike any creature she'd ever encountered, it was a grotesque caricature of a man. A single, wicked horn protruded from its skull, and leathery black wings, like those of a monstrous bat, stretched out behind it. Sharp teeth glinted in the flickering firelight, and its long, clawed fingers twitched with anticipation. Bloodshot eyes, burning crimson in the inky blackness of its face, held her gaze with a terrifying intensity. This wasn't a human warrior, nor a twisted monstrosity born from Kael's dark magic. This was a demon, ripped straight from the nightmares depicted in the forbidden texts Elena had once dared to study.

The air crackled with an oppressive silence, broken only by Lucian's shallow gasps for breath. Finally, the demon spoke, its voice a gravelly rasp that sent shivers down Elena's spine. "Well, well, well... look who we have here."

Elena gripped her wand tighter, channeling the last dregs of her magic into it. It pulsed with a faint light, a pitiful shield against the overwhelming darkness radiating from the demon.

"A wonderful day to you humans, I am a devil called Andro. It's such a nice meeting you." The devil introduced himself as he descended from the mountain.

"Andro," Elena spat, the name of a curse on her lips. It was a gamble, a desperate attempt to gauge his intentions.

The demon, Andro, as she'd named him, tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Oh? You have understand me? That's something interesting" His gaze flickered to Lucian, then returned to Elena.

"Oh well, it's expected from the witch if not I will be disappointed, and of course the master behind our little Kael. What a fortuitous encounter. I must say, I wasn't expecting such easy prey."

Elena ignored the jab, her eyes narrowed in defiance. "You think you can take us both?" A humorless laugh, more of a bark, ripped from her throat. "You're in over your head, demon."

Andro's face contorted into a grotesque parody of a smile. "Arrogant as ever, witch. But perhaps a little less... powerful? What brings you to this desolate wasteland, crawling on your belly like a wounded dog?"

He gestured towards Lucian, his amusement clear. "And why do you carry a burden behind your back? A failed attempt at a shield? Pathetic."

He gestured towards Lucian, his amusement clear. "And why do you carry that burden on your back? A failed attempt at a shield? Pathetic."

Elena's anger flared. "Did you hear that, my dear?" she snapped, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You as a meat shield? You wouldn't even last a second."

Lucian, despite his weakened state, managed a weak chuckle. A silent agreement to her statement.

"Wow, I didn't know the famous Sword Saint would be such a scaredy-cat," Andro sneered, "hiding behind the back of a small, weak witch."

Elena threw her head back and laughed, a harsh, grating sound that echoed across the wasteland. "Oh? Are you truly going to make such claims knowing you're just an empty husk? Please, spare me your pathetic insults."

The demon's eye twitched in annoyance, amusement evaporating, replaced by a cold fury. "I will tear you apart, you insolent witch!" he roared.

Elena's laughter died down, replaced by a chilling smile. "You," she said, pointing a gnarled finger at Andro, "think you can kill me?" Her voice was laced with a dangerous calm. "Your predecessor couldn't even manage that. How can a greenhorn like you possibly hope to succeed? But I appreciate the effort at humor. It was... quaint."

Andro's face contorted in rage. He lunged forward, a monstrous blur of claws and teeth, but Elena was ready. With a flick of her staff, a shimmering barrier erupted from the ground, stopping the demon dead in its tracks. The air crackled with raw power as the two forces collided.

"I'll tear your heart out and offer it as a tribute!" Andro roared, his voice a guttural bellow. He lashed out with a fist, shattering the magical barrier with a sickening crack.

Elena rolled her eyes and threw a challenging insult. "Stop talking and do the talk, stupid demon."

Andro's bloodshot eyes burned in anger. "I am not a demon! I am a noble devil! You insolent human!"

Elena reacted instantly. "Foudre!" she cried, a word of power erupting from her lips. The leaden sky above writhed, morphing into an inky black canvas. A crackling bolt of lightning, like a divine spear, arced down from the heavens, aimed squarely at Andro.

The demon hissed, a sound of pure irritation, as he scrambled to dodge the searing current. The lightning danced across the wasteland, scorching the ground in its wake as Andro weaved and ducked, a monstrous black blur against the desolate landscape.

Elena, her face etched with grim determination, lifted her staff once more. A crooked smile played on her lips. "Send my greetings to Mammon, when you're back in hell" she rasped, her voice laced with a dangerous edge.

The name, a powerful entity in the infernal hierarchy, caused Andro to falter for a brief, but crucial moment. He glanced at Elena, a flicker of unease crossing his demonic features. That moment of hesitation was his undoing.

With a silent flick of her wrist, Elena unleashed a torrent of shimmering energy. "Marionette!" she chanted, the word resonating with power. Wispy, translucent strings materialized from thin air, slithering towards Andro like deadly serpents. They coiled around his thrashing form, binding him tightly with an invisible grip.

Andro, caught off guard, roared in fury. He strained against the magical bonds, his monstrous form writhing in a desperate attempt to break free. But the strings held firm, their ethereal glow intensifying with every surge of his demonic power.

"Let me go!" Andro shouted as he struggled away from the binding.

Elena could help but roll her eyes as she pulled the strings connected to her hand to tighten the binding. "Do I look stupid to you? Little demon?" she could help but ask. Who in their right mind would let go of their prey just because they said so?

That is another level of stupidity.

But she noticed the strange silence after she asked that silly question, and when she looked at the demon's face. Her whole body boiled in anger.

The look on the demon's face was a big slap on Elena, it really spelled out a "yes" to her question.

Crack.

A sound of knuckles cracking could be heard. Elena tilted her head and with a smile called Lucien, "My dear Lucien, do I look gullible to you?"

The man, Lucien could help but silently tremble as he saw that smile. But he couldn't lie so all he could do was to stay silent, just like how he used to be.

Never saying or explaining anything.

"Ah."

Elena flick her hand and a whip made of vines appears.

Snap! Crack.

The ground snapped and cracked as it came into contact with vines. It sounded like bones were cracking. "Poor me, I came here to try to save the world and this is how the world would pay for my dedicated patriotism. Such a shame, don't you both think so?"

Both man and demon remained silent.

But a prideful demon like Andro would not forever bow down to a human. "Let me go and I will forget this behaivor! I will let you live!"

Elena's smile snapped as her purple eyes glowed. 

Slash.

"What are you doing..." Before Andro could finish his sentence, he suddenly realized that his vision had turned upside down.

Thud.

With a sickening thud, Andro's head rolled across the blood-soaked ground, his eyes wide with disbelief and a lingering flicker of rage. Silence descended, heavy and oppressive, broken only by Elena's laughter and the crackling flames that danced across the ravaged landscape.

Elena stood tall, her whip clutched tightly in her hand, the remnants of the demon's blood staining her once pristine robes. A cold satisfaction settled in her chest, a grim counterpoint to the exhaustion gnawing at her limbs.

Her laughter died as she glanced at the man silently watching her with such cold eyes. The same emotionless eyes she hates, the soulless within that scratch her core. She smiled at him. "And that my dear, its your future when you make me repeat myself. Blowing your head could also be an option but it would be brute, I'm not into that."

Lucien didn't say anything but offered a "humm" as a response.

Elena smiled. "It seems like we are running out of time."

'I am running out of time.'

The devil is here.