The Demon Monarch System

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"S-something is wrong, I don't understand why this feels like this. Also, what is that black cocoon that boy has encased himself in," Claire muttered while her gaze remained glued to the construct holding Apollo's unknown state.

As they all looked at it, they noticed it seemed to pulse with a vile aura. Additionally, every pulse seemed to interact with the dome around them. The unsettling in the pit of their stomach continued to grow. If they let it be and fester, something told them it would consume their minds.

Even Typhir halted in his actions. They all silently watched that pitch-black abyss like crystal.

"D-do...How is this affecting us?" Vellaria muttered, clutching her arm with apparent anxiety. In addition, she felt anger brewing in her mind. The slightest contempt she held towards her peer was being amplified at great speeds. For now, she couldn't understand why.

 "I don't know but whatever underhanded tactics this kid is using, they're extremely potent. Even my Soul Temple, fortified by my artifact, is trembling. Whatever comes out of there, we must face it together. I fear if we divide now, the end result will be unpleasant," Aeon commented. He continued to observe the cocoon containing Apollo crack at a slow pace.

But, just those small cracks spilled an aura so malevolent, the hairs on everyone's neck stood up. They couldn't fathom how this type of feeling could come from someone their age. It was as if they were in the presence of a devil hellbent on torturing those who have wronged.

As the cracks grew prominent, their nerves grew taut. As of now, all of their Soul Temples were trembling. This rang true even for those in the vast distance. The span of the dreadful feeling birthed from Apollo's actions was...inconceivable.

Soon enough, the cocoon shattered. Yet, what stood before their eyes seemed to be something that should exist. The prior physique of Apollo was nowhere to be seen. In its stead, a 2.5-meter tall being remained. However, that wasn't the eye capturing part of his appearance—the marvel lay in his equipment and eyes.

At the tips of his hair was a reddish color reminiscent of scorching flames. Additionally, two horns of great length protruded from his forehead as his sanguine crimson eyes with a dash of golden hue locked on those before.

When his feet touched the surface below, he exhaled. The ambient Ira flowed toward him forming an infernal set of armor. Just the heat alone, emanating from the armor warped the space around him.

"Do you understand your Sin?" Apollo questioned. There was a regal aura laced within his voice as he spoke to them. Surprisingly, there were no signs that accompanied an obscene wrath such as the one he experienced. He seemed calm, too calm—like the calm before a murderous storm.

"W-what the fuck is that?! Is he a Terror? Is this what they look like?" Claire screeched, her expression filling with trepidation. Unfortunately, she didn't understand what they had just provoked.

Apollo lifted his hand before his chest. He once again used the Hellfire Molding technique, however, the weapon he created was far too realistic. It was as if he materialized an actual weapon from pure flames—solid in all of its aspects.

"Sin? What are you on about? Cut the charades, what do you think you ar-" Lazaro mouthed off but was interrupted. In the blink of the eye, Apollo transported before him, leaving a blazing trail of flames. Before he could utter the rest of his sentence, Apollo flicked his head, sending him flying into the wall before them.

"I'll ask you once again—do you understand your Sin? All of you who have been deemed malicious by this great one—the one who has grasped all. How laughable, you impede my descendant's path. This trivial world seems to believe the notion of being able to handle his upcoming," Apollo stated. Towards the end, his words seemed to travel to a place that wasn't occupied by him.

"Who? Wait, what? Descendant? Is he from a Supreme Family?" Aeon inquired, glancing around for an answer. Sadly, no one here was privy to what he was.

"Heh, stupid boy, take a gander at my identity and tell me what you believe to be true," Apollo said. Instantly, he appeared before Aeon, looking into his eyes with a dark smile.

Naturally, in the presence of this anomaly, Aeon fell silent. He had no clue how to answer this question. And, quite frankly, he was too frightened to do so. 

"Now, I will tell you how all of this will go down. Due to you having caused my descendant to invoke a technique that shouldn't have come about until he was an Archdemon. Allow me to bestow upon you, a fitting punishment. All of you...may die," Apollo chuckled.

Effortlessly, he waved the scythe in his hand. A Demonic Massacre Wave the size of a fingernail was fired. However, it grew exponentially by devouring the ambient Ira in its surroundings. It didn't take long to become a strike of mass destruction.

"Defend, defend!!" Lazaro screamed at the top of his lungs. Simultaneously, all of the Glories disregarded the pact and undid all their seals on their cultivation. Much like Typhir, the revealed cultivations based far beyond what they presented.

"Insignificant efforts. You go this far to defend. But, what can't Hellfire combat? It is the flame birthed by Sin to punish Sin. Therefore, those of you who don't live a righteous life, you are and always will be susceptible to these flames," Apollo quipped, showing a playful expression.

Similar to what he said, the strike ripped through their Essence Aegis' like paper. It was a shocking sight, those who were lauded as extremely talented amounted to mere toys in the presence of this person before them. 

All of a sudden, a surprising scene took place; Apollo snapped his fingers. The Demonic Massacre Wave just inches aways from claimed their lives dispersed into nothing, flowing back into Apollo's body. The mastery the one in Apollo's mind held over these techniques—it was unmatched.

"Ah, don't soil your trouser. While I said I'll do away with you'll it seems that is counterintuitive. After all, I should leave your undoing to him. It'd be wrong for me to just...rob him of that joy now, wouldn't it? Well, I should let him once again regain control. Should this incident happen again, then, this world would be the one to suffer," Apollo announced with an amused chuckle.

For a moment, Apollo's body fell motionless. During that period, the temperament surrounding him changed poised and mischievous to simply—murderous. Be that as it may, the blaring difference in ability was apparent for all to see.

When that other persona left, so did its attainments in the Demonic Way. While there wasn't any change in the appearance of Apollo's body, the energy seemed to be far less docile. This was something immediately noticed by the others. After all, they all interacted with Essence on a daily basis.

They understood the less docile the energy is to something, the lower their internal state was! In other words, this form was tearing their foe's internals asunder. If they could prolong the battle long enough, then, perhaps they could salvage the situation.

"Listen to me, Aeon, it's me and you who will confront him head-on. Vellaria, use your winds to interfere with his movements and Claire...try to inhibit his actions by targeting his mind. His anger should have left him extremely unstable. He even thinks he is someone else. What kind of depraved illusion is that?" Lazaro ordered while raising his two short swords in contempt.

"Kill...I will kill. I have sacrificed my sin to the stigmata. Now, give me more power!" Apollo roared to the sky, inducing a large shockwave that originated from his body. A faint flickering black aura rose from his feet. Soon after, he took a step; and with it, he coughed up blood. Naturally, in his rage, he disregarded it. But, another was stimulated by all these actions—Ouroboros; he opened his eyes to reveal a pattern matching Apollo's within them.

Everyone made their move; Apollo slashing his scythe with vigor, Lazaro and Aeon attempted to stop it in its tracks—a heated battle between immature youths and a demon commenced! At the same time, Claire formed a hand seal.

"Frozen Mind Seal!" Claire exclaimed, trying her best to lock Apollo's thoughts in transit. Regrettably, it proved to be useless. The diabolic rage present in his mind melt right through her seals.

Upon realizing this, Claire despaired, 'W-what? That's the first time some almost immediately rendered this move useless. In fact, it didn't even come in contact with his mind. A corrosive energy so potent...it destroyed everything—even reason!'

"G-guys! Stop, retreat! He'll..he'll stop at nothing. You have to understand me!" Claire exclaimed, aptly trying to warn the others. Unluckily, the heated sounds of battle drowned out her screams. Or, so she thought.

For a moment, Apollo turned toward her with a cynical smirk, before shifting attention back to the confrontation. If what she saw was correct, then, she believed this was feigned madness, or perhaps the "persona" never left!

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