Melee by the River of Blood

In the distant past, long before the word "alchemy" had ever been coined, Hell had already begun developing various war machines. The God of Alchemy had ascended only a few centuries ago. Even though he had unified the body of knowledge known as alchemy, he still knew little about this ancient infernal technology. Yet as the concept of alchemy expanded, more and more things that had not originally fallen under that label were gradually subsumed by it. This shift in meaning gave the God of Alchemy the ability to finally dip his toes into infernal technology. Since Anbaixiu happened to have connections in Hell, he naturally meant to lend the God of Alchemy a hand. Besides, he was curious himself about what this "infernal engine" truly was. Rumor had it that even a mere mortal, once fitted with a top-grade infernal engine, might have a chance of wounding a deity on the battlefields of the Blood War. Zariel had not expected Anbaixiu to ask for something like that. After a moment's hesitation, she gave him a flickering ember of flame. "Present this flame, and the quartermaster of the Blood River Fortress will permit you to take a batch of equipment. What you manage to reverse-engineer from it is your own business." Rather than handing over the technology directly, she made him crack it himself. Her stinginess made Anbaixiu marvel inwardly that she was indeed every bit a devil. Still, it made no difference. The God of Alchemy's present power was sufficient to analyze any technology; all Anbaixiu needed was the physical hardware. Zariel was preoccupied with her own concerns, and though Anbaixiu had his doubts, he did not linger. Ever since becoming a "living person" again, Anbaixiu had grown somewhat impatient, no longer as cold and detached as during his time as a lich. Now, he could hardly wait to tear those infernal engines apart and rebuild them. As Anbaixiu vanished into the mirror's surface, Zariel gave a wave of her hand. Dozens of fiery streaks sealed the magic mirror shut. Only after ensuring that fellow could not peek through the glass did she wave again to summon a peculiar flame. It was a dark red blaze burning atop a crimson gemstone. The flame represented Zariel's own power, while the gemstone was the physical embodiment of the laws of the First Layer of Hell. Like a beating heart, the gem sent out pulses that reverberated across the entire layer. All the rules of Avernus were governed by it. Normally, this gemstone heart should have pulsed at an agonizingly sluggish pace, but now it thrashed violently, like a heart racked by disease. This was resonance from Hell itself—the laws of Hell practically clamoring to employ new methods to punish the sinners damned to its depths. With a grim expression, Zariel sent the gem sinking back into the subterranean depths, then transformed into a streak of fire and soared toward the Blood River Fortress. Beneath the colossal fortress, hundreds of millions of demons and devils howled in fury. Looked down upon from the sky, the River of Blood appeared partitioned like a web, every sector locked in ceaseless blood warfare. Zariel plunged headlong into the fray, the greatsword in her grip sweeping outward in a roaring tempest of fire. Every strike churned up a tsunami of molten magma, obliterating everything in its path. Demons and devils alike were reduced to ash before this Archduke of Hell. Before long, the space before Zariel was swept completely clear, thousands upon thousands of demons dead at her hands. Yet even more demons surged in from all directions. These monstrosities knew neither remorse nor fear; even knowing they faced Zariel herself, they rushed forward undaunted by death. This was precisely what made demons so terrifying. Vastly outnumbering the devils, they were driven solely by the lust for slaughter and ruin. However, this tempestuous butchery drew not only demons, but also a hulking devil. The devil came to stand beside Zariel. He had a bald, scarred head and a maw of jagged fangs, cutting an equally formidable figure. The moment he appeared, he spread the colossal bat wings behind him, suppressing the surging magma. "Zariel, what kind of madness has seized you?!" In the entire First Layer of Hell, the only ones who dared address Zariel in such a tone were Tiamat and another Archduke of Hell. This bald, scarred devil was none other than Bel, Chief General of the Blood River. Zariel spared Bel only a single glance, sneering with disdain. "Looking for another taste of torment?!" Bel's gaze hardened as he swallowed his rage, not daring to talk back. Although he was supreme commander of the Blood River battlefield, he remained Zariel's subordinate in the end. Had the Lord of Hell not commanded him to continue holding the Blood River Fortress, and had Hell been able to produce a commander more brilliant than him, Bel likely would have been carved to pieces by Zariel long ago. Yet Bel knew that Zariel still harbored deep hatred toward him. After all, back when Zariel had been imprisoned, Bel's cruelty toward the fallen angel had been horrific in the extreme. He had once sliced away pieces of Zariel's flesh one by one and swallowed them whole in an attempt to usurp her power. Unfortunately, infernal authority was not so easily claimed by another. In the end, Zariel had regained her rule, and Bel had been subjected to tenfold the agony. Nevertheless, Bel's unique competence had saved his life. The Blood River Fortress still required his hand to run. In the end, Bel had survived, though he was bound forever to the Blood River battlefield, forbidden from taking half a step away. The devils were far fewer in number than the demons. That they could hold the Blood River battlefield was entirely thanks to Bel's exhaustive, meticulous command over the years. In recent years, Zariel had not bothered to settle scores with Bel. Aside from the occasional battlefield inspection, she had not met with him for many years. Bel was no fool, either; knowing full well that Zariel despised him, he typically avoided showing his face before her. Yet today, for reasons unknown, Zariel had suddenly lost her mind, diving straight onto the battlefield to slaughter indiscriminately, throwing Bel's entire deployment into disarray. Agitated, Bel barked, "I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you've ruined my formation! Do you have any idea what the consequences will be?!" On the battlefield, killing more enemies did not necessarily work in one's favor. Zariel's sudden rampage had indeed eradicated countless demons, but Bel had established a complete defensive line here; with a single sweep of her sword, she had pulverized even the devils' own perimeter. The dead demons had originally served as a plug jamming the charge of their trailing ranks. Now, Zariel's blow had instead blown open an unobstructed corridor for the demonic advance. The moment Zariel pulled away, a gaping breach would open in the outer line. Once the demons poured through, the allied devils in other sectors would find themselves flanked on both sides. Even if the impact on the overarching campaign was modest, Bel had no desire to squander troops for nothing. Demons were infinite, but Hell possessed only so many combat-ready devils. Zariel sneered dismissively. "That is your problem to solve." With that, she swung her sword once more, reducing the surging demonic host to cinders. Yet the demons came without end, swarming like an army of ants. Furious as Bel was, he had no recourse. Rank carried absolute weight, and with Zariel wielding infernal authority, he could not defy her. Seeing the lines thrown into chaos, Bel had no choice but to summon a large contingent of elite troops to mend the breached front. Zariel paid them no heed, crashing straight into the enemy host and kicking up towering tidal waves of magma through the demonic horde. Only when the battlefield had turned into a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood did the demonic offensive grind to an abrupt halt. The demons that had been encircling them like ants suddenly halted, as if drawn by some unseen force, and began converging toward a single point in midair. Flesh twisted; sinews snapped and bones splintered. As though kneaded together by an invisible pair of hands, the demons condensed into a massive sphere of meat. Immediately after, the meatball tore open, and out leapt a blood-drenched, two-headed baboon! Two starkly different roars erupted from the baboon's mouths. Bel could not help clapping both hands over his ears, while the elite warriors under his command collapsed in droves, violently shaken by the twin bellows. Demogorgon, Prince of Demons! The most infamous monstrosity of the Abyss had actually made an appearance at this very moment! Though it was merely an avatar shaped from demonic flesh and blood, its terrifying power was still beyond mortal resistance. Bel stared at Zariel in shock. Had this lunatic thrown herself onto the battlefield just to draw out an avatar of Demogorgon?!