Die!

A triple execution strike.

Though it was the first time the three Demon Lords attacked together, their coordination was seamless—no hesitation, no wasted movement.

Their intent was simple and absolute: kill Charles before he or his guards had a chance to react.

“Enemy attack!”

The two paladin guards at Charles’s side barely managed to shout before reaching for their swords.

But Charles himself—

He didn’t react as a man moments from death.

Shock flashed across his face only for an instant before twisting into something strange… almost delighted.

As if he’d stumbled upon some novelty.

A glint of excitement danced in his eyes.

“Oh? A hidden event?”

The words tumbled from his lips—nonsensical to his guards, meaningless to Molly and Sylvester, but to Vivian… profoundly ominous.

In the split second before Vivian’s shadow arrow, Molly’s claws, and Sylvester’s tendrils struck—

BOOM!

A radiant explosion of gold erupted from Charles’s body.

A dome of sanctified light materialized out of nowhere, encasing him completely.

“Bang—clang!”

Vivian’s shadow bolt struck first, and like frost under sunfire, it vanished instantly—dissolving into harmless ripples.

Molly’s claws raked across the barrier, each strike screeching against its surface, only to rebound violently.

Sylvester’s tendrils hissed and burned away the moment they touched the holy energy, fading into ash.

The perfect, synchronized triple strike—

Completely nullified.

“What?!”

Vivian’s eyes narrowed in disbelief.

Even Sylvester and Molly froze for half a heartbeat, stunned.

That shield—its power exceeded all logic.

This wasn’t a priest’s defensive prayer.

It was something else entirely.

And more disturbing still, Vivian felt a twinge of recognition, a whisper of déjà vu.

“Haha! The auto-trigger on Sacred Barrier is still fantastic!”

Charles grinned, patting the golden glow around him like it was a toy. “Worth every gem. Limited-time legendary from the pre-patch event, totally overpowered.”

He was muttering to no one, to nothing—and yet to Vivian, the realization hit her like cold iron.

“Damn it… he’s a player. A real one.”

One of them.

Her worst fear had just come true.

Charles was no divine prodigy.

He was a transmigrator—

And worse, a player armed with system privileges and pay-to-win relics.

The paladins had already drawn their swords, roaring as they stepped forward to shield him.

One of them blew his whistle—a shrill alarm that tore across the holy corridors.

“Tch. Annoying.”

Vivian’s expression hardened.

“Smash through! Kill him now!”

Plans meant nothing now.

If Charles lived, she was already dead.

Vivian understood perfectly.

As a transmigrator who’d awoken in the role of the Demon Lord, she had advantages early on—raw power, experience, memory.

But her growth had limits.

Players, though—

They were anomalies. With divine hacks, systems, and absurd “progression curves.”

She’d read enough to know how their stories went:

every one of them became unstoppable monsters of destiny.

If Charles survived this, there would be no future—

Not for her, not for the Demon Clan, not for Evernight.

Molly shrieked, a piercing hawk’s cry that split the air.

Behind her, six phantom wings flared, and her movements blurred into streaks of blue.

Claws, wing-blades, and wind blades tore across the barrier, screaming with brute velocity.

Sylvester emerged from the shadows, pitching both arms forward.

A barrage of shadow spears rained down in unison, converging on one point on the golden dome.

Vivian’s eyes burned darkly.

Gripping her hands together, she summoned a broadsword of black flame and pure Evernight mana.

With a cry, she leapt—sword cleaving down like a meteor.

“Boom—boom—BOOM!”

All three Demon Lords struck with their full wrath.

The holy barrier shuddered, rippling with every impact.

Cracks laced across its surface, the golden light flickering violently.

The paladin guards tried to interfere but were quickly overwhelmed—Molly’s wind blades carved through their armor while Sylvester’s shadows snared their feet, anchoring them in helpless panic.

“Demons… no, wait—Demon Lords?!”

Even Charles’s composure faltered now.

The realization dawned in his eyes—this wasn’t a random ambush.

He was staring down three of the Demon Clan’s monarchs.

Still, the Light Towers were weakening, their sanctified field collapsing by degrees.

Here, even bound by Holy Light, the power of three Demon Lords remained catastrophic.

Light clashed with darkness again and again, the air booming with each surge.

The shield—magnificent seconds before—was splintering.

A spiderweb of cracks illuminated Charles’s pale reflection across the golden surface.

His lips moved frantically, as if operating invisible controls.

“Almost broken!” Vivian shouted, feeling the rhythm of its collapse.

Her black sword ignited anew, runes spiraling up the blade.

She swung with everything left in her.

CRACK—BOOM!

The golden barrier shattered like glass.

Fragments of holy energy cascaded through the corridor, fading like dying stars.

“Now!”

Molly’s killing intent exploded.

She lunged, claws slicing for Charles’s throat.

Sylvester’s tendrils coiled upward from the floor, ensnaring his limbs.

Vivian descended with her flaming sword in both hands, eyes blazing with concentrated fury.

“Die—just die already!”

For the Demon Clan.

For Evernight.

For her own survival.

Charles had to die—no matter the cost.