Contempt. Ridicule. Cold, hard disregard.

What stood there at the sixth, westmost point of the Hexagram, staring down the last bastion of humanity, was no mere army of monsters. It was an agglomeration of feelings, accompanied by a cacophony of cries and shouts.

But, in a non-metaphorical, entirely physical way, it was also no mere army of monsters, since not everyone standing amongst the mob was a monster.

Certainly, monsters were in the overwhelming majority.

But there were also a few who recognisably fell outside of that category.

Though their bodies were torn in half, burnt to a crisp or even absent entirely, they were without a sliver of a doubt dwarves, with their hair of metal and their short statures.

Though they were nigh impossible to spot, in the back and out of sight, there were most certainly a number of elves mixed in.

Though they resembled the monsters more than they did people, those were, upon closer inspection, indeed drakonids.

And most of all, the group leading the army contained what appeared to be a pair of beast-children…

Combined with the hordes and hordes of monsters and rows upon rows of identical, black Living Armour, it was sure to instil fear in the hearts of any humans who were unfortunate enough to lay eyes upon it.

And indeed, many of the humans standing in front of the military garrison, whether soldiers or Heroes, were quivering in their boots at this display of overwhelming numbers.

For indeed, with this many monsters, one could trample a small country underfoot.

Even given that this garrison was essentially the frontline between the Holy Astal Kingdom and the monsters’ lands, the first true, proper armed conflict had not been twenty-four hours ago, so it was not particularly more impressive than any other… Yes, this was entirely excessive.

As though the aim was not seizing control of the garrison, but complete annihilation of every human that was there. The large magic circle spreading out that prevented anyone from leaving seemed to support that theory.

As the human army whispered hushed words of fear and cowardice to each other, so too did what appeared to be the leaders of the monsters exchange some quiet words.

And in the end, the one who stepped forward was…

“We are the demon king’s Legion, here to open the sixth point of the Hexagram!”

A knight who carried her head under her arm… a Dullahan. Her voice was young and upbeat… and more than anything, the humans recognised it.

“For the sake of the birth of the new world, we hereby declare your deaths!”

For she carried the voice of the Saint of Exorcisms, Saniel.

The missing Saniel.

The absentee Saniel, who had gone to the demon king’s castle and never returned.

Until now.

Here she was, her own head in one hand and an absurdly long executioner’s blade in the other, standing proudly as one of the leaders of the demon king’s Legion.

Perhaps this fate had also befallen the wielder of the god-sword…?

No, it would do them no good to think about that now.

For the time being, all they could do was to face these increasingly impossible odds.

To face these ridiculous uniform-clad monsters.

“Major General Saniel, moving out!”

The corrupted Saint, her head separated from her body, decapitating entire companies of soldiers with one strike.

“Major General Evyna, moving out!”

Another former Hero, reduced to a pile of living shadows, clutching a magical book of spells the likes of which could annihilate whole regiments.

“Major General Nyx, moving out!”

A tiny fairy, no larger than a human hand, dragging hundreds of soldiers into her deadly shadows every second.

“Major General Nexu, moving out.”

“Major General Asami, moving out.”

The strongest twins. The ultimate combination. The boy with his massive, oversized sword, which he lifted with enough ease to make it look like a feather, and the girl with her twin flashes of silver and black, moving so swiftly and elegantly it was like the enemy attacks were avoiding her, rather than the other way around.

“Major General Alpine, moving out.”

A Kobold, fur white as snow and eyes black as the starry night sky, clad in an aura of icy death. With the power to make her allies’ desires reality by shackling them to the real world, she was the very linchpin of this army, taking the monsters from ‘strong’ to ‘absurd’.

“Lieutenant General Kesthis, moving out.”

A rank above the Major Generals, and thus technically their superior… though the Major Generals were all the demon king’s personal associate, leaving the rankings murky. With his beautiful wings spread out, between every spell, the Demi-Dragon offered a quick prayer for his opponents’ souls.

“Lieutenant General Grink, moving out.”

A War Ogre… as the name implied, a species that well and truly existed for war. Hulking muscles, shining under the late-night sky’s red light, and enough physical strength to lift a mountain if he felt like it. In one hand, a sword that would clearly be two-handed even for someone of his stature, and in the other, an equally-sized battleaxe, not to mention his reserve of weapons that included several more absurdly large swords, battleaxes and warhammers. Raw, brute strength embodied.

“Lieutenant General Selaia, moving out.”

A Doom Lamia… normally, she would hang back, healing allies and cursing enemies as required, but today, just today, she was making an exception. She was out on the frontlines, rushing about, cursing enemies left and right, not to mention her absurdly long tail, probably well over fifty metres long, made both an excellent blunt weapon and a perfect restraining tool. Indeed, though she did not normally show it, she actually made an excellent physical combatant in addition to her magical prowess.

And then, of course.

The undying dwarven corpses. The limber elven rangers. The powerful drakonid brawlers. The array of monsters both natural and artificial, enough to the point that even if you only counted the flying ones, their numbers were so high they would block out the sun.

Though the humans were more numerous, more powerful and more tactical than when this same army had confronted the dwarves, that did not make this into any more of a fight… no, this was a one-sided slaughter, with minimal, minimal casualties on the monsters’ side, and soon, all of the human army was sucked into the Hexagram’s sixth point, completing the second triangle and forming the six-rayed star.

And yet, nothing happened… yet.

Nay, for there was a seventh point.

A seventh magic circle to fill with souls.

At the very centre of the Hexagram.

There, the demon king’s Apostles had gathered, facing what little was left of the Heroes.

And, behind those Heroes, for some reason…

Stood the pope, his eyes glowing with Golden radiance.