The Heavens' Full Descent
The entire heavenly army assembled in the upper layers of the Heavenly Realm. The air before the descent passage was thick with the condensation of sanctuaries, prayers, and hymns. Prayer threads floated in the void like branching beams of light, overlaid with layer upon layer of battle data.
"Descent forces in the lower and mid tiers—loss rates rising faster than projected."
"Central valley in front of the fortress walls. Damage concentrating in this sector."
One angel pointed at the sanctuary projection spread out like a map. In the middle of the valley, a pillar of light was embedded. Around it, prayer threads snapped here and there, dropping like severed front lines slashed by a blade.
"Irregular confirmed at this point."
"Upper demon by hell's standards. Dagger user, combat type."
Another angel continued. "Partially matches the 'low-rank demon irregular' recorded during Raphael's descent—the prayer thread patterns align."
"It was unmeasurable back then but classified as low-rank..." He double-checked the figures. "Now it's spiking far higher than that."
On another face of the sanctuary. In the sector illuminating the fortress walls, a red curtain roiled. Beneath it, demons that had fallen once rose again.
"Curtain—defense type irregular. Disrupting descent trajectories from the rear."
Another angel indicated beside it. Heartbeats clinging on past their time to die.
"Recovery-type irregular. Authority that rewinds right to the brink of death."
"All three are dangerous types to leave as-is."
The angels' gazes naturally converged in one direction. Gabriel. He quietly scanned the sanctuary map and numbers. Even as the severed prayer threads piled up on the floor like rolling debris, Gabriel didn't hurry.
"Gabriel."
The prayer overseer angel cautiously spoke up. "Hell's resistance is fiercer than expected."
"With the current structure of sequential deployment splitting forces into shields and spears, sustained operations risk exceeding critical losses."
A brief silence. Gabriel's gaze slowly crossed the gaps in the broken prayer threads. The path of slaughter Raksha had carved. The sight of angel corpses stacking from the valley floor filled the sanctuary projection in red.
"...We were too arrogant."
His voice was soft. But definitive.
"Even after witnessing Raphael's failure, we still treated hell as merely an extension of the proving grounds."
Gabriel's eyes lingered on the path of slaughter. "That path isn't hell's cruelty—it's the blood belatedly spilled onto the front lines we left vacant."
"The price of trying to fill those gaps now."
The prayer overseer clamped his mouth shut. Gabriel's words weren't aimed at any one person—they were for everyone present.
Gabriel stepped toward the descent passage. The patterns etched into the sanctuary floor—the 'path' woven from prayers and hymns—trembled faintly in time with his footsteps.
"The descents so far were just the fingertips of heaven's outstretched arm toward hell."
He pointed at the passage with a fingertip. "Widen the passage."
"...Widen it how?"
"Bundle more prayer threads, pull them tighter, and overlap all the passages we've been splitting into one."
"Expand the sanctuary pillars two or three times over, and redirect every buffer prayer we've been maintaining in the upper layers to this descent."
The prayer overseer instinctively resisted. "That'll weaken the upper layer barriers and drop passage stability."
"Dropping the entire army at once risks prayer thread collapse and backlash—"
"That's why."
Gabriel cut him off. "We chose to spread losses thinly, picking only the 'safe' margins."
"Losing a little less each time, but leaving the battlefield vacant in exchange."
His eyes sharpened briefly. "And that end result is that path of slaughter."
On the sanctuary projection, the valley's red deepened another shade.
"No more splitting."
Gabriel extended his hand toward the prayer thread map. The branching descent lines slowly bundled into one. What had been smooth paths twisted into a thick, rough tunnel.
"Full army descent."
Some angels swallowed hard.
"Don't split into shields and spears—load every waiting force into the passage."
"In this descent, we show hell no mercy."
The prayer overseer asked one last time. "...How shall we set the priority elimination targets?"
Gabriel's answer was already decided. "Priority one remains Bell. He must be weakened from Raphael's strike."
"The Demon of Gluttony. If we don't erase that existence from this battlefield completely, no victory will be whole."
"Priority two: that irregular."
Light gathered on the sanctuary projection at the spot marking Raksha's movements. "A low-rank demon on Raphael's field, now registering at Great Demon levels."
"We break the blade shattering the front line's balance here."
"Priority three."
The red curtain. And the point marking demons twisting back to life.
"Curtain and recovery. Shield and breath."
"Both buy hell time."
"Ideally, clean them up together in the same battlefield, just before or after Gluttony and the frontline irregular fall."
The prayer overseer nodded. "Priorities logged."
Gabriel picked up the holy scripture from the altar. The first scripture. A vessel condensing the authorities of water and protection. Inside the transparent container, blue-lit water surged like a heartbeat.
"If we've been arrogant, I'll pay that arrogance's price myself."
Gabriel brought the scripture to his chest. Light and water seeped between his fingers. Protection's authority spread across his chest, shoulders, and arms.
The prayer threads trembled all at once. The descent passage widened. The thin paths throbbed like a single thick heart.
Vast water and light poured toward the depths below. Gabriel stood before the newly expanded passage.
"This descent is heaven's first sincerity to hell."
He slowly bent his body and began walking down toward hell.
BOOM─────! The sky let out another crumbling roar.
The pillar of light suddenly thickened. The sanctuary barrier half-enveloping the decoy fortress swelled like a labored breath before collapsing inward.
Overhead. Light that had fallen at steady intervals now poured down all at once.
A chill raced up my spine. Demon instinct whispered in my ear.
'Run.'
'Hide below.'
'Bow your head, crawl.'
My heart pounded unnaturally. The reinforced muscles and bones locked as if demanding I kneel.
I gritted my teeth and crushed the sensation.
'...Holy scripture.'
The alien pressure of the sanctuary. Far deeper and thicker water aura than the previous shields and spears.
'The first scripture.'
'Gabriel's descending personally.'
And in that instant. Over the falling angels' bodies, a triple barrier 'thickened' sensation swept through.
The outer sanctuary membrane pressed first, the armor water barrier followed, and the skin-clinging protection locked last—thickest of all.
A lock of entirely different 'quality' from before. The sanctuary overhead tore open entirely.
Through the gap, countless angels poured down like sand swept in a current.
What had been a fight picking off 'falling things' now became enduring the 'pouring things.'
I drew a deep breath.
'...Can't hold out here any longer.'
'This isn't intel gathering anymore—it's suicide.'
The path of slaughter was dug deep enough already. Time to pull out another plan.
On the fortress walls. The red curtain was visibly thinning. Red lines trembled over Jan's hands. She kept layering lines over the gates and ramparts—the sectors she'd stubbornly held—but lacked the strength to seal every new crack.
"Haa..."
Jan exhaled long. Beside her, El gripped a blood-soaked demon. A body barely clinging together with twisted limbs. Dull red light layered over it repeatedly.
"Get up."
"The ones still breathing first."
The demon's chest expelled a pain-choked breath. Dark circles hung under El's eyes, but her hands didn't stop.
"Today's... the day we save only those worth saving."
Jan added atop her words. "Gotta switch directions soon. This place is for abandoning."
El's pupils shook. "...Retreat?"
Jan glanced back toward Nova instead of answering.
'Hold any longer here, and we'll shatter entirely.'
Then. A familiar voice rang from the battlefield.
"Bell."
The moment I called that name, the entire battlefield went quiet as if frozen in time. Angel corpses, demon corpses, shattered shields and swords, armor fragments. For a brief instant, everything hung suspended in the silence.
Then the space in the center tore open. A pitch-black gap devoid of light, blood, or sanctuary afterglow.
Gluttony's sharp fangs, for an instant—
─────CRUNCH!!!
Corpses. Light shards. Blood and armor fragments. All vanished from their spots without even a falling sensation.
The smell changed. Rot and ash. The stench of a deep pit bottom slowly rose.
The black gap yawned wider. A long, gaunt hand. The back dusted in black ash. Bell slowly emerged, propping himself on it.
The unperfumed clone body, made for deploying to the battlefield. But the eyes and smile were those of the gluttonous demon.
"Ah— ...nice."
"Raksha, you finally getting serious?"
Bell's gaze turned to me. I said curtly.
"Decoy fortress full retreat to Nova."
I shouted toward the walls. "Jan! Peel all decoy fortress barriers and shift to Nova!"
"Thicken only Nova! Regroup and realign there!"
The red curtain shuddered. The lines covering the decoy fortress and ramparts began flowing toward Nova.
"We're abandoning the decoy fortress."
I nailed it down once more. "Hold only Nova, counterattack from there."
Bell's eyes narrowed in delight. "I like it."
Bell spread his arms wide. At the clone's chest center, the scar split black, revealing pit-like darkness.
"Then time to clean up first."
Gluttony began. This time, not just ground remnants—the descending light from the sky became prey too.
Black gluttonies bloomed in sequence, coiling around the light pillar. Like vines entwining, they wrapped it round.
The inner light still fell strong, but from outside, it looked like a black pillar bridging heaven and earth.
From above, the battlefield below the descent passage vanished under black noise.
The heavens could no longer 'see' this battlefield. Only numbers and prayers remained—no image feed.
A battlefield cut from intel.
"Hold till Nova's gates seal."
And once more, I stepped toward the pouring masses.