The Extra Can't be A Hero

Chapter 267: The New Order (4)

In the heart of the Demon Cult’s base.

Five Apostles sat solemnly at the round table as none of them attempted to break the silence. They had succeeded in casting Starfall and had destroyed more than half of the capital. Not only that, the monolith that was the Hyades Republic was crumbling by the minute.

In just a week, over a dozen municipalities had opted to switch allegiances, joining the Demon Cult in droves.

Even cities that had faithfully followed the Holy Church’s doctrine for the longest time were showing signs of defecting.

In the grand scheme of things, it was a massive win for the Demon Cult.

Although they weren’t able to destroy the capital, they had largely accomplished their goal.

Yet... None of them were in the mood to celebrate.

"Isadora is still missing?"

Kieran’s grovelly voice woke the dazed Ravenna.

"Y-yes, we’ve been trying to find her but..."

"No, she was taken by Yue Elune. If she hasn’t returned, it’s safe to say that she lost."

Kieran left her grim fate unspoken. Isadora was an Apostle, one of the Demon Cult’s greatest weapons. But, history has shown time and again... the Fantasy Couple wasn’t to be belittled.

Amon had personally killed Malachi, the former Apostle of Subservience, and injured the Prophet. Not only that, he had grown into a monster that could destroy Starfall, their greatest spell.

It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that Yue wasn’t equally as monstrous.

"We will proceed with the plan without her." Kieran then opened a scroll and spoke: "Our losses are great, but we can recuperate with the new faithfuls joining. For that, Nirvana has already begun recruitment."

While the Demon Cult has been amassing power and influence, it was ultimately an invasive force. Getting humans to join them directly would prove to be challenging, especially since they’d once believed in the Holy Church.

However, if they could use the Utopia Church as a front to lure followers into the Demon Cult... then it was another matter altogether.

"We must lie low as we gather followers. To do that, we’ll need to get the Hyades Republic to fight another enemy. The Herald has been seeking help to resurrect the Titans; we’ll give her our assistance while staying hidden in the shadows. That way, we can weaken both the humans and the Titans."

"..."

Kieran continued speaking, but no one really paid attention. Sensing that his words weren’t going to strike a chord, he sighed and stopped:

"Until when are you going to remain defeated?"

"..."

Samael, Ravenna, Dante and Damien all remained quiet. They were the sharpest swords of the Demon Cult, the most powerful entities that should have existed. Blessed directly by the Demon King’s grace, they should rival the greatest Knights and Magicians on the planet.

But none of them dared to claim that anymore.

Why?

Because they’d witnessed the miracle that was Amon Solaris.

"Kieran, I’m impressed you can remain calm."

Samael finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through any pretence.

"Let me ask you then... Can we summon the Demon King directly to Hyades?"

"... no."

Being the second-in-command of the Demon Cult, Kieran was naturally privy to some information that was hidden from the other Apostles. Yes, the Demon King was mighty beyond measure. He possessed godly abilities and could destroy lesser realms with just his presence alone.

But that was the problem.

Because of how powerful he was, the Demon King could never enter Hyades.

The only way was for Demons to infest the realm, slowly terraform it with demonic mana, and eventually, after millions of years, it would become the Demon King’s domain.

"If the Demon King can’t descend... what can we do against that monster?"

"..."

It was the truth that was better left unsaid.

In the end, nothing the Demon Cult did, not its schemes, not its sacrifices... nothing... could compare with absolute power.

And Amon Solaris possessed just that.

The worst part? Amon still had the potential to grow.

He wasn’t like the Sword Saint who had abandoned his sword for a new path. Neither was he like the Solaris Lord, who was one foot in his grave.

Amon was a bona fide monster that was never seen before in the annals of history. In due time, even if they transported a thousand legions from the Demon Realm according to the grand plan, it wasn’t enough to defeat Amon Solaris.

Samael was now convinced, even after being baptised with the Demon King’s power, that he would never beat Amon in his lifetime. Therefore, he sought an alternative.

"We’ve already done enough, right? Let us enter the Demon Realm before it’s too late."

Samael was the most powerful Apostle right now, but he was never a battle-maniac. Instead, he was a realist and an opportunist. Rather than fighting an unwinnable battle, it was better to cut their losses and enter the Demon Realm early.

"No, our only value comes from terraforming Hyades."

But Kieran cruelly slapped the truth in his face.

"Do you think your power impresses the Demon King? Far from it! He’s only giving you power to execute his will. If you enter the Demon Realm without any accomplishments, you’ll only be a slave to other Demon Nobles. Perhaps you might become food instead."

"Tch..."

The Apostle of Chaos clicked his tongue and returned to silence. The Twin Brutes, similarly, felt a heavy stone weight upon their chest as they said:

"We need a path to become stronger."

"Our vengeance against him... is weak now."

The Apostles of Vengeance actually gave up their revenge. Not because their hatred for Amon had subsided, but because they realised the mountain that was ahead of them. Although they might be a little slow, they weren’t brainless.

If they went up against Amon the way they were now, it was only inviting a massacre.

"I see... I can’t have that now, can I?"

Just as all hope seemed lost, a familiar voice echoed through their minds. An elderly gentleman stepped forth—his ghostly, pale eyes reflecting a lifetime of secrets, his sharp grey hair perfectly styled despite the chaos around him.

Clad in his signature tailored suit, with an overcoat effortlessly draped over his shoulders, he exuded an aura of effortless elegance and unshakable composure.

At the sight of him, the Apostles, whose expressions had been drained and desolate moments before, lit up with sudden, overwhelming relief. Their withered eyes regained their spark, their despair replaced by hope.

"My leige! Have you finally recovered?!"

Kieran immediately stood from the head seat and yielded it to the Prophet.

Nodding in gratitude, the Prophet took his place on the Demon Cult’s throne and gazed lovingly at his Apostles.

"Yes, sorry for worrying you. You have done well in my absence."

"N-No, nothing of the sort! We actually..."

"No, there’s no need to tell me anything. Zuphil has been filling me in while I was in recovery."

At the Prophet’s words, the Apostles’ attention shifted to the cloaked figure who had suddenly appeared at the end of the table. Seeing the enigmatic figure, a tinge of rage swept through Damien’s mind as he roared:

"Where have you been?! We looked all over for you!"

"... you could have at least responded to us."

Dante backed up Damien’s rage, as they were the pair tasked with finding the Mist Warlock.

While Zuphil wasn’t formally an Apostle, his powers matched theirs in ways they couldn’t imagine. In fact, none of them really knew how powerful Zuphil was, but his strength was sorely missed when they fought in the capital.

Even Kieran felt aggrieved by the Mist Warlock’s disappearance and allowed the twins to speak their piece.

"I was protecting the Demon Cult’s assets," Zuphil replied, seemingly bored. "Besides, I have no obligation to heed your commands."

"You..."

"Now, now. Let’s not talk about that now."

Fortunately, the Prophet stepped in before the Apostles started a civil war.

"Our focus should be on the next phase of our plan, not fighting internally."

"Tch..."

Damien was forced to let go of his anger as everyone redirected their focus on the Prophet.

"All of our plans are flowing smoothly. The Great Demon invasion is on track, and the Herald has already found clues on how to revive her kin. As long as we follow the plan, we can start the next Great Demon War in a few more years."

Kieran reported, but the Prophet didn’t care.

"We all know that, but unfortunately... There has been one major obstacle in our way."

"Yes... Amon Solaris. What are your plans for him?"

"He has grown... faster than I’d expected. But..."

The Prophet lifted both arms in reverence and dropped to his knees. His lips curled into a smile of pure, delirious ecstasy as demonic mana surged violently through his veins. The ground trembled. Space itself twisted—and a rift between dimensions tore open before them.

At first, the Apostles recoiled in unease.

But the moment the familiar, suffocating pressure spilt from the forming gate, their bodies reacted before their minds could.

One by one, they collapsed to their knees, sweat streaming down their faces as their hearts pounded in primal fear.

They remembered the battle with Amon. Fighting him had been like a man attempting to wrestle a maddened bull—hopeless, brutal, yet still within the realm of comprehension. His dominance had been overwhelming, but at least it belonged to something mortal.

The presence emerging from the gate was something else entirely. Before it, they were nothing more than insects—fleas trying to outfly a hurricane.

Resistance was not only futile; it was meaningless.

Their wills, bodies, and souls bowed instinctively, offered up to the whims of the being lurking beyond the rift.

And then, from within the gate, the entity spoke.

[Joroxin, you requested an audience?]

"Your majesty... Your grace eternally humbles me."

The Prophet buried his forehead so deeply in the ground that it seemed like it was going to drill a hole through it. At that moment, the Apostles all knew who they were speaking to.

The Demon King... Lord Xig’drodan.

[Dispense with the formalities and tell me your request. I can’t be here for long.]

"Certainly, your majesty."

Just by projecting his voice, the fabric of spacetime was beginning to tear. One could only imagine the absolute power the Demon King held within the Demon Realm.

"We have an enemy that we can’t overcome, and I request assistance."

[An enemy that even you can’t defeat? Joroxin, did you challenge the Goddess?]

"Naturally not! But, the foe we’re facing... may pose more of a challenge than the Goddess."

[I see... Then, there’s no choice.]

The Demon King wasted no time. From within the void, a spatial tear split open, releasing a concentrated beam of swirling grey mist. It shot forward like a divine decree, engulfing each of the Apostles in an instant.

The mist seeped into their skin, their blood, their very souls—granting them a baptism beyond mortal comprehension. Their bodies surged with demonic mana, but that was only the beginning. Something far more profound coiled around them, threading into their existence like invisible strings.

It wasn’t mana.

It wasn’t physical strength or any conventional augmentation.

It was something abstract—something that transcended form and substance.

It was the power to bend reality itself.

It was the authority that shaped the world.

It was the power of law.

[I will give you a crumb of my power. It will help with your battle against that foe. Take some time to familiarise yourself with it.]

And with that, the portal wasn’t able to remain without absolutely destroying the fabric of reality. The voice of the Demon King fizzled out as the Apostles remained in the chamber, ecstatic about their newfound power.

However, they each sank into deep contemplation, leaving only the Prophet fully awake.

"M-My liege, I-I..."

"Rest well, Kieran."

The Prophet covered the Apostle of Domination’s eyes with a gentle smile.

"It will take some time for you to harmonise with our King’s power."

"H-How long?"

"Weeks? Maybe months? Who knows?"

The Prophet shrugged his shoulders but reassured the Apostle.

"But don’t worry, I’ll handle things from here. Once you awaken, that’s when we’ll begin our assault anew."

"... y-yes, sir."

Finally losing consciousness, the Prophet turned his gentle smile upside down. He stared into the distance as Zuphil walked over and asked:

"Are you going to kill him now?"

"No, even with his majesty’s power, I pale in comparison to that boy." The Prophet shook his head. "Let him bask in the limelight a little longer."

"So what are we going to do now?"

The Prophet remained silent for a few seconds before showing an expression of rage never seen before.

"... war."