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Calling it a massacre felt polite. Like describing a star going supernova as "a bit warm."
It was not a fight.
It was a deletion.
The arena hushed the moment Satan stepped forward.
Not walked.
Not strode.
Stepped.
And somehow the act carried the weight of gravity itself.
The First of the Fallen.
The air around him bent strangely, like reality had developed a fever. The millions of demons screaming moments ago fell into a tense, reverent silence. Even Hell seemed to hold its breath, like a beast recognizing its original master.
Satanus stood opposite him, muscles coiled, flames leaking from his skin. A warlord. A conqueror. A demon whose name alone had ended rebellions.
He looked ready.
He looked powerful.
He looked doomed.
Jason leaned slightly toward the glass.
"Something's wrong," he muttered.
Mazikeen didn't answer.
Because there was nothing to explain.
Ramiel's voice rang out.
"Begin."
Satanus moved first.
A thunderclap.
The arena floor shattered under his step as he lunged, fist wrapped in abyssal fire, strength capable of cracking continents.
And then.
Black.
Not darkness.
Fire.
Black fire.
It bloomed from Satan like ink dropped into water, silent and absolute. No roar. No explosion. Just an expanding veil of annihilation.
It touched Satanus.
For a fraction of a fraction of a second, his outline existed.
Then it didn't.
No scream.
No resistance.
No ash.
No atoms.
The space he occupied simply… forgot him.
Erased.
Like a name wiped from a chalkboard.
The black fire rolled across half the arena before vanishing just as quickly, leaving smooth, glassy stone behind. Perfectly clean. Sterile.
As if nothing had ever stood there.
As if Satanus had never existed at all.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Jason felt his spine tighten.
"He didn't even…" he started.
Mazikeen finished quietly, "He didn't get a second."
Not a clash.
Not a struggle.
Just judgment.
Cruel.
Merciful.
Instant.
Satan turned, coat barely rustling, expression bored. Like he had just swatted dust off his sleeve. No pride. No effort.
This wasn't dominance.
This was inevitability.
Ramiel's voice echoed, almost ceremonial.
"Satan. Victor of the first round."
The arena exploded into noise.
Millions of demons screaming his name, some in worship, some in terror.
"He's back!"
"The First of the Fallen!"
"King! King! King!"
The sound crashed like a tidal wave against the glass.
Jason stared down at the empty patch of stone where Satanus had stood.
One of Hell's greatest powers.
Gone in less time than a blink.
His reflection stared back at him from the glass.
Human.
Small.
Fragile.
And next.
The display flared again.
Letters burned across the sky like brands.
Jason Anderson vs Blaze
Mazikeen glanced sideways at him."Well," she said softly, a crooked smile tugging at her lips, "no pressure."
Jason exhaled once, slow and steady.
Below, the arena floor shifted, reshaping itself, cracks sealing like living flesh.
Far across the battlefield, a figure wreathed in crimson fire began walking forward.
Blaze.
The Infernal Princess.
...
The arena sealed itself like living stone, cracks crawling shut as if the ground had decided this massacre deserved a clean stage.
Millions of demons leaned forward at once. Horns, wings, scales, shadows. The noise swelled into something like a storm trapped underground.
Blaze stepped out first.
Flames trailed behind her like a royal cloak, curling around her ankles and licking the air. The fire didn't flicker randomly. It followed her, obeyed her. Infernal royalty made manifest. Dark armor hugged her body, etched with faintly glowing sigils that pulsed with demonic authority.
Jason walked out from the opposite gate with far less ceremony, hands in his pockets, shoulders loose, like he was showing up late to class instead of entering a battlefield big enough to bury planets.
They stopped several meters apart.
The heat between them distorted the air.
Blaze spoke first.
"Surrender."
Jason tilted his head. "That's not how this usually goes."
"You're human," she said flatly. "You don't belong here. Forfeit and walk away."
Her voice didn't shake, but something else did.
Jason looked closer.
Mascara had run faintly under her eyes. Thin black streaks against pale skin.
Tears.
She'd been crying.
"For my brother," she continued, jaw tightening. "I have to avenge him."
Satanus.
Or whatever remained of him after Satan erased him from existence.
Jason studied her silently, gaze sharp and clinical. The trembling fingers. The unstable flames flaring too high. The swollen redness around her eyes.
Grief made people sloppy.
"You'll fail," he said.
The words landed like a slap.
"If you really want him avenged," Jason added calmly, "you're the one who should step down."
Her eyes widened.
"You can't beat Satan. Not like this. You go up against him, you die the same way he did. Instantly." His voice stayed even, almost bored. "So if revenge's the goal, quitting is your best option."
Her flames exploded outward.
"You think you can talk down to me?" she hissed. "A mere human?"
Jason didn't even bother replying.
He just looked at her.
Unmoved.
That silence hurt more than any insult.
Ramiel's voice echoed across the arena. "Begin."
The ground shattered.
They vanished at the same time.
Their fists collided mid-air with a deafening boom. The shockwave flattened the arena floor and blasted the first rows of demons backward. Stone cracked outward in a massive ring.
Jason immediately felt it.
Blaze was stronger.
Not slightly.
Overwhelmingly.
Her next punch smashed into his guard and launched him through layers of stone like a cannonball. He tore through debris before flipping mid-air and landing in a crouch, only for her heel to crash down where his head had been, splitting the earth open.
Each hit carried the weight of a collapsing building.
No tricks. No finesse. Just raw, brutal power.
"Yeah," Jason muttered, wiping blood from his lip, "you win the strength contest."
Blaze lunged again.
"Cleave."
Invisible slashes carved the air.
She twisted mid-step, flames bursting from her back like wings, dodging on pure instinct. The cuts skimmed past, slicing only embers.
She could feel them.
Again.
"Dismantle."
More unseen blades tore through space.
She weaved around them, propelled by hellfire bursts, movements sharp and reactive. She wasn't seeing the attacks. She was sensing the killing intent itself.
Jason's eyes narrowed.
"Tch. Annoying."
Hellfire gathered in her palms. Not simple flames. This was condensed infernal magic, the kind that scorched souls and warped reality.
She hurled it.
A blazing sphere the size of a house.
Then another.
Then dozens.
The sky turned into falling suns.
Jason dodged the first, sliced the second apart, but the third detonated against him and sent him skidding across the arena. The explosions kept coming, each one stronger than the last. Her output climbed higher and higher, like she was burning her life away for power.
"Alright," he exhaled, standing straight.
"If that's how you want it."
His fingers formed the seal.
The air groaned.
Something ancient opened behind him like the door of a furnace.
"Fuga."
Heat spiked so violently that even demons recoiled.
"Divine Flame."
Crimson fire erupted outward and swallowed everything. Her hellfire vanished instantly, devoured like sparks in a volcano. The wave crashed into Blaze and engulfed her whole.
She screamed.
Armor melted. Cloth turned to ash. Skin blistered as the flames burned deeper than flesh, chewing through magic itself.
When she stumbled out of the inferno, smoke curled from her body. Her clothes were gone, burned away entirely.
But modesty meant nothing here.
This was life or death.
Her eyes were wild.
"…Fine," she rasped. "I was saving this for Satan…"
The temperature dropped.
Black energy seeped from her skin like ink in water.
Her veins darkened. Her eyes turned pitch black. Her hair lifted and shifted into a deeper, abyssal shade. The air around her grew heavy, wrong, like reality itself didn't want to touch her.
Mazikeen swore behind the glass. "That's not hellfire… that's soul magic."
Blaze vanished.
She reappeared in front of Jason instantly and slammed her palm into his face.
The flames had already faded.
No defense.
The black magic sank straight into him.
It didn't hurt.
It didn't feel strong.
It felt… nothing.
Jason frowned. "That's it?"
Then his thoughts stuttered.
Like pages being ripped out of a book.
His vision blurred.
Something inside him began to surface.
Dark.
Hungry.
Ancient.
His control slipped through his fingers like sand.
His soul felt like it was sinking underwater.
And from somewhere deep inside his mind, a voice laughed.
Low.
Cruel.
"Fool."
/*\
If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patreon at
"https://www.patreon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !