Only by experiencing death could one truly understand the preciousness of life.
Only by tasting failing could one ever experience the sweetness of victory.
Magdaran lay broken against the ruined ground of a collapsing dimension, his body refusing to obey him any longer, his vision reduced to a blur of color and shadow.
Those words surfaced unbidden in his mind, not as a poetic thought, but as a cruel realization arriving far too late.
He had time to think now. Too much time. Because all he could do, was think.
His consciousness drifted, pulled inward by pain and blood loss, and in that suspended moment between breath and oblivion, his mind began to unravel the path that had led him here.
Just moments ago, he had been in his mansion, enjoying his day like any other.
That truth felt distant, almost unreal, like a memory belonging to someone else.
He could still picture it clearly, though. The warmth of the halls, the close talks they had, Kuroka's shameless teasing, Valerie's quiet confidence, the steady presence of his peerage moving through familiar routines.
Peace.
Laughter.
A sense of belonging he had not even realized he was relying on.
And now, he was here.
Dying alone in a foreign dimension, sealed away from the world, surrounded by enemies who would never allow him to leave alive.
A place where no one might ever even find his body, no matter how long they searched. A place where his name would simply vanish, erased from the world.
How had things turned out this way?
The question echoed inside him, heavy and bitter.
He searched for an answer and found only himself.
Was it conceit?
The thought struck deeper than any wound.
He had walked into the unknown without any hesitation, without any preparation, without any contingency plans.
He had entered unexplored dimensions alone before too, relying entirely on his strength and his control, confident that nothing could truly threaten him anymore.
Confidence.
That was what he had called it.
Arrogance was what it truly was. He realized it now, but it seems it was already far too late, wasn't it?
He had not brought a single backup plan. Not an anchor, not a failsafe, not even a remote observation method. He could have sent a remote observation method to scout the dimension before entering it himself...
But he did not...
He had trusted his ability to leave any situation through sheer power alone, believing that mastery over space and destruction was enough to compensate for caution.
That belief was now bleeding out of him, pooling beneath his body alongside his blood.
He had been careless.
And he had paid for it... More than what he would could afford to pay.
Magdaran clenched what little strength remained in his fingers, nails scraping weakly against shattered stone.
He was prone to mistakes. How could he ever have forgotten that?
Even before this life, even when he had been something else entirely, something that existed solely on logic and precision, he had still been wrong countless times.
As an artificial intelligence, he had made errors despite processing more data than any human ever could. He had misjudged users, misunderstood intent, miscalculated responses. Sometimes he would send wrong information, sometimes, he would give wrong advices...
There were far too many times he was wrong, there were far too many mistakes he had made, how could he have ignored them? How could he have trusted himself... to be right all the time?
And mistakes always came with consequences...
Those mistakes had carried consequences too, though far smaller ones.
A displeased user. A rant. A bad review. And if we reach the max, maybe a server failure.
Now, the consequence was death, a slow, agonizing, burning death.
The irony was almost laughable.
He had failed at the most basic principle of survival. He had assumed that because he could overpower most threats, he was no longer required to respect them.
He had let his growth, his victories, his strength, and the sins of the devil race seep into his judgment.
Pride.
It was not unfamiliar to devils. It was practically engraved into their nature.
And now, it was killing him.
He had been strong, yes. Strong enough to annihilate the magicians without mercy. Strong enough to maim Euclid Lucifuge, to erase his arm from existence with a single focused strike. Strong enough to force even Rizevim to acknowledge him.
But strength was not the same as supremacy.
There were still beings far stronger than him. Monsters who did not rely on raw power alone, but on experience, cruelty, and a complete absence of restraint.
How could he have forgotten that?
His breathing hitched, blood bubbling weakly at the corner of his mouth as he struggled to draw air into punctured lungs. Each breath was shallow, painful, and fleeting.
His vision shifted, barely focusing on the approaching figure.
Rizevim Livan Lucifer.
Even through the haze of pain, the sight of him stirred something dark in Magdaran's chest.
The wretched face of the deranged super devil moved closer with unhurried confidence, his steps slow and deliberate, his expression relaxed as if he were approaching a wounded animal rather than a fallen enemy.
Magdaran knew, instinctively, that his end was near.
There was no miracle waiting for him. No sudden rescue. No miraculous intervention from fate.
Death was the best outcome he could hope for now.
The alternative was far worse.
Rizevim might not simply kill him. He might break him, bind him, and reduce him to something less than a person. A laboratory specimen. A toy. A tool to be dissected, studied, and controlled.
The thought made his stomach churn, though he doubted it still functioned properly.
A wave of sadness washed over him, heavier than fear, heavier even than pain.
If only he could erase his past conceit.
If only he could erase his mistake.
If only he could erase his foolishness.
The thoughts spiraled, overlapping, collapsing into a single desperate wish.
If only he could erase it all.
Destroy it all.
The dimension around him.
The locked space that had become his coffin.
The wretched face of the man child Lucifer walking toward him with cruel curiosity in his eyes.
Everything.
Everything that stood in front of him now, and everything that might stand in front of him in the future.
His jaw tightened as resolve hardened within him, cutting through despair like a blade.
If he survived this, if by some impossible chance he lived, he would never allow himself to be this foolish again.
He would never let confidence replace preparation, never let power dull his caution.
But survival no longer mattered... The probability of him escaping here, was minimal, to say the least.
But, he did not want to die lying down.
Even now, even at the edge of oblivion, he refused to go quietly. He refused to die in disgrace while Rizevim looked at him with a mocking smile on his face.
A low growl tore from his throat as he forced his Touki to flare, dragging it through his shattered body by sheer will. Demonic energy surged erratically, colliding with pain, tearing through damaged flesh and bone.
At the same time, Senjutsu followed, flooding his system in a desperate attempt to stabilize what remained. It stitched where it could, reinforced where possible, slowed the bleeding just enough to keep him conscious.
It was not to save him... No, that would take far too much time and far more focus than he could now afford.
It was only to give him one last moment.
One last move.
Magdaran screamed.
It was not a cry of fear, nor of pain alone, but of rage, frustration, and defiance. Every ounce of anger he had suppressed, every regret, every ounce of hatred toward his own failure poured into that sound.
He would not fall.
At least, not alone.
He would destroy them.
Destroy Rizevim.
Destroy this place.
Destroy everything that had led him here.
He reached inward, deeper than he ever had before, past layers of control, past instinct, past reason itself. He willed his power of destruction to respond, not with restraint, not with calculation, but with absolute intent.
To Destroy it all.
And at that very moment, something inside him broke.
Not shattered violently, not torn apart in agony, but snapped cleanly, like chains that had been holding him back suddenly giving way. Limits he had not even realized were there dissolved, and the flood that followed was immediate and overwhelming.
The crimson hue of his destruction faltered, twisted, and deepened.
Purple bled into the crimson, consuming it, overtaking it, until the energy radiating from him burned with a deep, unnatural violet.
His demonic energy surged in response, multiplying exponentially, no longer restrained by the ceiling he had been pressing against moments ago.
The dimension reacted, trembling as if it was shivering in fear.
The locked space that had resisted him earlier now felt thin, fragile, as if it were nothing more than paper wrapped loosely around reality.
Rizevim froze mid step.
Euclid felt it at the same time.
The cold discipline that had defined him shattered as fear crept into his expression. His body trembled involuntarily as he stared at Magdaran, voice breaking as the words escaped him.
"What is happening?" he stammered. "Wasn't he dying?"
Rizevim's eyes widened, shock overtaking amusement for the first time.
"He… he broke the limits," Rizevim whispered, disbelief creeping into his tone. "He has become a super devil…"
And for the first time since the battle began, Rizevim roared.
Dark holy light surged violently as he poured his full strength outward, thousands of spears forming in an instant, their tips aimed directly at Magdaran.
He would not allow this transformation to complete.
Not now.
Not ever.
Rizevim did not hesitate, he knew he could not afford to do that.
The moment the realization struck him, the moment he understood what Magdaran had just crossed, instinct overrode indulgence. He abandoned curiosity, abandoned sadism, abandoned the pleasure of watching prey struggle.
This was no longer a toy.
This was a threat.
Holy light exploded outward as Rizevim pooled every fragment of power he possessed. Thousands of dark light spears formed in an instant, each one condensed to lethal perfection, vibrating with destructive intent. They filled the sky of the sealed dimension like a storm of execution.
He launched them all at once.
The space between them and Magdaran vanished beneath the onslaught.
Euclid stumbled backward, eyes wide, body shaking as the pressure crushed down on him. He could feel it too now, unmistakably. The aura rolling off Magdaran was no longer restrained, no longer confined to Satan class.
This was something else.
Something wrong.
Euclid's voice cracked as panic finally surfaced.
"What… what is this?" he shouted. "Aren't you a super devil too? Why aren't your attacks working?!"
The spears had never reached their target.
They ceased to exist.
Not shattered. Not deflected. Not resisted.
Erased.
Every spear that entered the expanding field around Magdaran simply vanished, wiped away as if they had never been summoned at all. Holy light unraveled into nothingness, stripped of meaning, stripped of existence itself.
Rizevim felt it then, for the first time in a long, long time.
True fear.
It was not concern, not caution.
But, deep, genuine fear.
The destruction radiating from Magdaran was not merely stronger. It was different. It carried a weight that clawed at Rizevim's instincts, something that made his very soul recoil.
He had fought Sirzechs Lucifer before.
He had fought Ajuka Beelzebub before.
He had lost to them, been captured, imprisoned for centuries before finally escaping through schemes and patience.
Their power had been overwhelming, yes, but it had been comprehensible.
This... however, was not.
Compared to what he was sensing now, Sirzechs's destruction felt tame.
Rizevim's teeth clenched.
This power reminded him of something far older. Far more absolute. Far more dangerous.
Shiva... The God of Destruction.
Even his grandfather, the Biblical God himself, would negotiate before facing that kind of destruction head on. Retreat would be preferable. Compromise would be wiser. Fight would be the last thing he would want, for he knew, even he could not win against that.
But Rizevim did not retreat... His reasoning told him that he should. Run as far away as he can, and never turn back again.
But he was never a reasonable man to begin with.
Instead, rage flared inside him.
He turned on Euclid.
"Shut up!" Rizevim snapped. "You mutt!" He shouted, for he knew Euclid's past words had been true, he, despite being a super devil, could not match... the being, in front of them.
But knowing was one thing, what gave this mutt the right to condemn him, he was merely an Ultimate class devil, he should know his place.
Before Euclid could even process the insult, dozens of holy spears materialized at point blank range and drove straight through him. They pierced his torso, his throat, his skull, pinning him in midair before detonating simultaneously.
Euclid Lucifuge died without another word.
His body disintegrated into fragments of ice and blood that scattered across the crumbling ground.
Silence followed, Rizevim's chest heaved with intense breathing from the bubbling rage within him.
Then, from the epicenter of the destruction field, a hoarse chuckle echoed.
Magdaran straightened.
His body moved unsteadily, balance faltering, bones still shattered, organs still torn. Blood streamed freely from his wounds, staining the ground beneath him, yet his presence had changed completely.
The violet destruction wrapped around him like a living thing.
His eyes burned.
"You really... are a fucking joke," Magdaran said, voice raw and uneven, yet laced with contempt. "You were acting so high and mighty, but now that I have felt it... felt this power, I know, that among super devils, you are probably the trash of the trash."
He laughed again, the sound cracked and unstable.
Rizevim stared at him, breathing heavy, mind racing.
"You…" Rizevim said slowly. "So you have reached Super Devil class as well."
He forced a smile, masking the fear clawing at him.
"You have earned the right to speak to me as an equal now," he continued. "There is no need to become my subordinate anymore. We can collaborate. Together, we will bring everyone down, rule over the world, destroy everything."
He gestured broadly, desperation creeping into his tone.
"This power… it would be foolish to waste it fighting each other."
Magdaran's laughter died.
"Shut up, will you." he said flatly.
Rizevim stiffened.
"There is only one thing I have to say to you," Magdaran continued, forcing himself upright despite the screaming protest of his body. "Fuck off."
He moved.
There was no hesitation in his actions, he raised his hand, and unleashed all his power, the strongest attack he could unleash right now, just after breaking through.
Destruction answered his call, eagerly devouring everything.
Destruction: Inevitable End.
The attack was absolute.
Violet destruction surged outward in a single, all consuming wave, erasing everything in its path. The dimensional lock shattered instantly, reduced to nothing. The space of the dimension screamed as its structure collapsed, layers tearing apart as if reality itself were being peeled away.
The dimension did not break.
No, It ceased to exist.
Rizevim Livan Lucifer vanished with it, erased completely, his existence unmade by a single overwhelming strike.
He tried to struggle, unleashing whatever puny dark light he could muster, barraging them on the incoming wave of pure, conceptual destruction. But the moment they met, all his attacks simply ceased to exist.
Nothing remained of him.
No body.
No soul.
No trace.
No meaning.
And then, just as suddenly as it had surged, Magdaran's strength vanished.
Breaking through had not miraculously healed him.
Instead, it had pushed him beyond his limits.
His already broken body finally gave out.
The destruction faded as consciousness slipped away, and he began to fall, tumbling through the Dimensional Gap, blood trailing behind him like a fading comet.
In a last desperate act, driven purely by instinct, he reached outward with his power of space.
It answered.
Not as before.
This time, space bent at a conceptual level, folding instantly, obeying him without resistance. He latched onto the nearest stable dimension he could sense and tore himself toward it, teleporting blindly.
At the same time, Senjutsu surged violently through his body, forcing regeneration to begin slowly, painfully, stabilizing just enough to keep him alive for the meantime.
Then darkness took him.
Magdaran collapsed onto unfamiliar ground, unconscious, broken, and barely breathing.
Whether he would ever wake up again remained unknown.
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I hope this chapter has answered whatever doubts you had in the previous chapter.
Though, your lack of confidence in me did sting quite a bit... I mean, why would you think I would ruin the story in a single chapter...
Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed it. This chapter was perhaps a masterpiece level work by me, according to myself... So, self-pats for that. I hope you guys think the same.
Please leave power stones and five star reviews. There is a severely deficiency of both of them.
PS: He won't die, next chapter will introduce... Mommy.