Countless ages ago, the first devils embarked on planar travel, greedily seeking to claim dominion over all things. Traversing the plane of Carceri, they eventually reached the Abyss.
It was here that they laid eyes upon the tanar'ri demons for the very first time.
Lawful evil and chaotic evil—the innate philosophies within the two fiendish races inevitably clashed, manifesting as brutal slaughter fueled by pure hatred.
Before long, these devils were almost entirely wiped out, yet a small remnant escaped back to Baator to report what they had found. Thus, each side became aware of the other's existence.
At first, it was mere skirmishes between small scouting parties, but these encounters soon escalated into localized battles, and localized battles broadened into all-out war. From then on, the Blood War—the bloodiest and longest-lasting conflict in the multiverse—raised its curtain.
The war swept across the entirety of the Lower Planes. Demons and devils slaughtered one another across countless battlefields. With swift and disciplined organization, the devils invaded the Abyss, raising iron fortresses and seizing strategic strongholds across the Plain of Infinite Portals.
Yet before long, the demons pushed the devils back through sheer, unending numbers, at times driving the front line onto the plains of Avernus itself. The war raged back and forth without end, seemingly eternal, impervious even to the interventions of the Upper Planes and the gods.
To this day, the Blood War had spanned countless millennia. Even the oldest historical records could provide no definitive beginning, though historians estimated it had likely dragged on for hundreds of thousands of years.
That the war between devils and demons would never end had become common knowledge; some even believed this conflict would ultimately determine the fate of the multiverse.
As for the cause of the Blood War, historians held dozens of differing theories: pure hatred, irreconcilable philosophical conflict, the lust for control, the doctrine of preemptive strike...
Yet the view most widely accepted was one proposed ten thousand years ago by a legendary planeswalker:
The Blood War was the product of the opposition between law and chaos, the physical manifestation of the cosmos's very nature. It could not be altered or stopped—meaning that until the lifespan of the universe reached its end, this war would never cease.
And now, Cassius was about to step into this endless Blood War, becoming a participant in the eternal confrontation between law and chaos.
"Your Majesty, time was far too short. This is all the intelligence we could gather for now," Commander Mezrolash of the Tiefling Royal Guard said in a low voice, kneeling on one knee before Cassius. Piled beside him were ancient, tattered tomes and scrolls.
"It is enough."
Cassius used magic to manipulate gravity, suspending the materials in midair as he casually leafed through them.
An old man clad in black robes knelt nearby. His frame was extraordinarily gaunt, his left arm and entire shoulder torn away by some creature, leaving only a hideous, jagged scar.
This man was named Yude Perk, a scholar specializing in the Abyss whom Mezrolash had captured. He was also a madman through and through, having sacrificed over a hundred human lives in pursuit of his research and even summoned a marilith into the mortal realm.
It was he who had just recounted the history of the Blood War to Cassius.
Right now, Yude was trembling all over, his voice hoarse. "Y-Your Majesty Cassius, the one you spoke of... must be Kostchtchie, Lord of the 23rd layer of the Abyss, Prince of Wrath and King of the Frost Giants. He is the ruler of the Iron Wastes."
"Kostchtchie..."
Lost in thought, Cassius pulled an archaic warhammer from the void and smiled ferociously. "Perhaps he came for this."
With the appearance of the warhammer, a frost-white mist seeped into the air, turning it bitingly cold.
Yude stared blankly at the hammer as though gazing tenderly upon a lover, murmuring in a trance, "This is... Matalok, the Father of Frost, Kostchtchie's favorite weapon!
"Your Majesty Cassius, I beg of you, please lend it to me! Such precious research material, it's practically..."
His voice grew increasingly agitated, and he even reached out his sole remaining hand, yearning to touch the runes on the warhammer.
Yet at that moment, a piercing chill swept over him, freezing Yude completely into a block of ice that promptly sprouted dense, hairline cracks.
Cassius instructed nonchalantly, "Take this fellow to Trump. Make sure to hollow out everything in his skull. As for his life... there is no need to spare it. A wretch tainted by the will of the Abyss sickens me just to look at."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Mezrolash answered respectfully in a low voice. Standing up, he waved his hand, and several tiefling guards surged forward, cleanly carrying away the ice sculpture.
With no one left around, Cassius extended a claw and drew out the Infernal Core from the void. The crystal core gave off a crimson glow and transformed into a sharp, blood-stained dagger.
"Time to visit my ally. It wouldn't do if Avernus fell to the demons."
*Riiip—*
With a sharp tear, the dagger slashed through space, carving out an enormous, scar-like fissure. Crimson light bled through the gap, as if space itself were oozing blood.
This was a Gate of Curses, the conduit between the Material Plane and Baator, carved open by Cassius wielding his infernal authority.
"And it's about time I witnessed... what the famous Blood War really looks like."
Swallowing the Infernal Core back into his belly, Cassius folded his wings, lowered his head, and amid a violent tremor in space, plunged his massive, sixty-meter-long dragon body directly into the Gate of Curses.
...
Avernus, the first layer of Baator.
As far as the eye could see lay a scorched, rubble-strewn wasteland. Jagged, bizarre rock formations and ominous peaks occasionally jutted up from the terrain, while streams choked with blood wound across the barren plain, ultimately emptying into the River Styx.
The air reeked of pungent sulfur, red light flickered everywhere, and even the sky was a blood-like crimson.
Only this time, half the sky was dominated by a mottled blackness resembling storm clouds. Yet a closer look revealed that these were no clouds at all—they were an endless horde of demons!
Flapping their wings in chaotic disarray, they swarmed the skies of Avernus, blanketing the land beneath countless twisted and foul bodies.
"For the will of the Abyss!"
"Slaughter them all!"
Chaotic, cacophonous shrieks echoed across the endless wasteland, making the earth shudder.
Had mortals arrived here, their minds would likely have been corrupted by those dreadful voices before they even clashed with the demons, driving them entirely mad or transforming them into half-human, half-demon monstrosities.
The winged demons flew at high speed with vicious, snarling expressions, their turbid eyes brimming with hatred as they seemed to be chasing something.
Soon, a mingled clash of red and black appeared beside the river of blood—an infernal legion composed of devils.
"Quick, follow me!"
"Head for Oleg Fortress! A legion commander is stationed there; he should be able to hold off these demons!"
"Damn it, ever since Lady Zariel died, these Abyssal mongrels have become utterly brazen!"
These devils were clad in armor forged from infernal iron and carried steel forks, clearly elite infernal soldiers who were well-trained and strictly disciplined.
At this moment, they held tight formation, bat-like wings spread wide, sweeping across the low sky in unison as they fled southward.
Even when demons caught up with them, the devil soldiers would raise their steel forks and thrust backward violently, impaling their pursuers through and through with forks wreathed in hellfire.
Yet the demons were simply too numerous. The dense black swarm soon claimed most of the sky, leaving the devils nowhere to flee.
A brawny, towering balor brandishing a whip of fire let out a wildly arrogant laugh, his whip snapping fiercely through the air.
"Hahahaha! Cowards of Hell, you are dead! Without that damned madwoman, the Abyss will conquer Avernus at last!
"Wretches, tear them to pieces! Do it, or I'll crush you into mush!"
Due to their chaotic nature, demons were born without organization or discipline. Their military structure was exceptionally crude, roughly dividing into two categories:
A commander powerful enough to crush other demons with ease, and lesser demons gathered around that commander out of instinctive terror of raw strength.
The demon commander pointed out the target, and the horde swarmed forward, tearing the enemy apart at all costs—this rudimentary tactic was the most effective strategy that the barely wrinkled brains of lesser demons could grasp.
And so, amid the balor's chilling laughter, demons beat their wings and surged from every direction like a torrential flood, intent on drowning the devils in a tide of chaos.
"By the Lord of the Nine Hells, these Abyssal bastards are everywhere!"
"They say over ten million demons poured into Hell this time, and several demon lords have appeared! Even Lord Bel couldn't stop them!"
"Fight! Carve a bloody path through! Slaughter these disgusting mongrels!"
The devils swung their steel forks and fought desperately, blood and fire interweaving in midair.
They were indeed elites of Avernus, but besieged by demons outnumbering them a thousand- or even ten-thousand-fold, devils were torn to pieces one after another by the frenzied swarm. Blood rained upon the earth, and minced flesh scattered in all directions.
Even the balor cracked his whip and charged in with relish, roaring with his mouth gaping wide: "I'll kill you all! Avernus is ours!"
*Boom!—*
Right then, accompanied by the concussive roar of exploding air, a pillar of incandescent white flame first pierced the heavens. Immediately after, orange-red flames erupted in a torrential cascade, sweeping across the sky like surging tidal waves.
Spanning several thousand meters, the flames blanketed most of the firmament, turning the sky into a raging sea of fire as though intending to illuminate all of Avernus.
What was even more terrifying was the fire's blistering heat. Even demons with formidable fire resistance were reduced to ash within this all-consuming inferno.
"No—!"
"It's too hot!"
"Damn it, what kind of fire is this?! My wings, my arms, my claws... they're all burning!"
Demons wailed and thrashed within the sea of flames, yet they could not escape their doom. Charred black in midair, they crumbled into ash that rained down upon the earth.
"Demons. You wish to conquer Avernus... but did you ask for my permission?"
A thunderous voice rolled across the sky. Imbued with utmost majesty and an incomparable, breathtaking might, it sent hundreds of lesser demons plummeting like rain.
"What is that?"
"Who's there?!"
Faced with this unknown threat, even the balor commander's voice quavered.
In their panic, the demons saw a shadowy, enigmatic figure emerging within the sea of fire. Its silhouette was exceptionally colossal—nothing short of a floating mountain.
Then, like reverent, humble subjects, the flames parted to either side, finally revealing the figure's true form.
—It was a red dragon of unbelievable size, stretching over sixty meters long. His wings blotted out the sky, and merely beating them slowly stirred up searing tempestuous gales.
His talons were as sharp as blades, his long, thick tail resembled a winding mountain range, and the scarlet scales covering his entire body gleamed brilliantly against the firelight.
Even the stupidest, most brainless lesser demon could tell: this dragon was immensely powerful, not an existence to be trifled with.
This was a sixty-meter-long dragon!
To a degree, size equated to strength. Even a great wyrm red dragon was barely over half his length, looking downright diminutive before him.
Just what kind of creature was this red dragon before them?
A super-great wyrm? The progenitor of red dragons?
Though reckless and combative, loath to use his brains, the balor was no fool eager to throw his life away.
After a moment of silence, he gingerly raised his head and spoke, "Unfamiliar dragon, I am Zande, Seventh Commander under the Prince of Wrath. State your purpose. Why do you block the path of the Abyssal legions? Why have you slain my subordinates?"
"Oh? And what of it?"
The red dragon lowered his head, his pale-gold eyes staring down at the balor with unvarnished arrogance.
The balor flared with rage, yet dared not lash out, forced to keep his voice low as he growled, "Do you intend to obstruct the glorious Blood War? Dragon, you had best consider carefully—whether you can withstand the wrath of a demon lord!"
Knowing he was no match for this dragon, who seemed the very embodiment of power, Zande invoked his demonic overlord, hoping to frighten the dragon into backing off.
The devils caught on as well. Hurrying anxiously before the red dragon, they said with utmost deference, "Mighty dragon, these Abyssal mongrels are insulting you! They have the audacity to claim you are lesser than a demon lord! Could a mere name ever frighten off a dragon so magnificent? This is an outright provocation! You must slaughter every last wretch who dares despise your majesty!"
The devils gave full play to their natural talent for sowing discord and stirring up strife, leaving even Cassius marveling in amusement.
The balor cracked his whip, shrieking in fury, "You sly infernal bastards! I'll tear you into ten thousand pieces in a moment!"
Much to their surprise, Cassius merely looked down his nose at the balor and said nonchalantly, "Fine, then. Let us slaughter all these demons."
At the red dragon's words, the devils' eyes lit up.
The balor, on the other hand, showed signs of panic. Gritting his teeth, he snarled, "Dragon, is it worth it? Would you truly make an enemy of the Abyss over such laughable reasons?"
"No, that doesn't matter," Cassius replied, shaking his head. Fire surged within his pale-gold eyes. He grinned ferociously, uttering that famous line:
"It is simply that... if I destroy you, what business is it of yours?"
Chapter 721