The Extra Can't be A Hero

Chapter 328: The Demon Empire (1)

While Amon, Yue, and the rest of the world were locked in their desperate struggle against the Titans, the Demon Empire had been quietly amassing its strength in the shadows.

Since the battle in Zephys, the Apostles of the Demon Cult had retreated into deep seclusion, where the Prophet personally bestowed upon them new demonic powers. Time passed in silence, but their growth was anything but stagnant—each Apostle cultivating relentlessly, evolving under the Prophet's ever-watchful gaze.

Within the grand halls of the newly risen Demon Empire, the Prophet sat upon his throne in solemn authority. The burdens of governance had long since been delegated to Kieran's disciples, granting him the freedom to focus entirely on nurturing his chosen subordinates.

For a time, everything proceeded according to plan. But that fragile equilibrium was shattered mere days ago. With the Goddess's aid, the Demon King descended upon the world—a calculated move the Prophet had long anticipated and fully supported.

In his wake came thousands of Greater Demons, alongside a formidable host of elite Demon Nobles, swelling the Empire's military might by severalfold.

Across the land, demonic mana spread like a virulent tide, corrupting everything it touched. Nearly a quarter of the world had already been reshaped, terraformed into a twisted reflection of the Demon Realm—a sanctuary for demons and a promised land for their devout followers.

Even the Holy Church—once humanity's staunch bulwark against the abyss—had fallen.

Under the Goddess's control, still inhabiting Ellahan's body, its doctrines were rewritten, its purpose inverted. No longer defenders of mankind, they now stood as zealots of the Demon Empire, turning their blades against anyone who resisted its rise.

Piece by piece, the Prophet's grand design was falling into place.

And yet… beneath the surface of this seemingly flawless ascent, there was one major resistor.

"Joroxin, why the solemn face?"

While the Prophet was brooding on the throne, a faint voice echoed next to his ears, calling out his real name that few knew and even fewer dared to mutter out loud.

A black-robed figure, shrouded in ethereal mist, walked confidently next to the Prophet as if he were the Prime Minister to the Emperor, and even dared to lean on the Prophet's unblemished throne. If it were any other cultist, heck, even if it were the Apostle or a Demon Noble, the Prophet wouldn't allow them such liberty.

But the man before him wasn't just a subordinate… he was someone that even the Prophet didn't dare touch.

"Zuphil, you're here."

"Heh, as the protector of the Demon Empire, I have every right to walk the palace of my making."

Zuphil, the Mist Warlock.

On paper, he was an Apostle, the one responsible for protecting the great halls and important assets of the Demon Cult. But Zuphil didn't have a gospel, and neither was he under the direct command of the Prophet. Zuphil was under the direct command of Joroxin's liege… the Demon King.

In fact, the Prophet didn't know how powerful Zuphil was. He was an enigmatic figure, one who spoke directly to the Demon King and did anything he pleased without punishment.

"No, you do have the right," The Prophet nodded without denying the Mist Warlock's words. "And to answer you… I'm thinking of a solution to the Solaris question."

"Solaris? Don't you mean just Amon?"

"..."

The Prophet looked away, but his silence spoke volumes.

Although the Demon Empire was rapidly gaining influence, it was also rapidly losing forces. The Solaris House was at the forefront of the siege. Alongside Eldorin, the premier Knight Order formed just to hunt Demons, the Solaris House was brutalising the frontlines of the Demon Empire.

The main objective of the Demon Empire was to take over the planet. That meant turning towns from the Hyades Republic to their side with promises of eternal life and anything their civilians dreamt of. And if the carrot didn't work, they would apply the stick.

Marching down with legions of Demons, flattening each town with brutality to break their minds.

Alas… the Solaris House prevented that.

With the support of their demigod, the Solaris House and Eldorin ensured that the world didn't fall to the Demon Empire. Not only that, humans no longer listened to the Demon Empire's sweet promises after learning how they treated their cultists. And it didn't help that the Demon Nobles were treating this new planet like their own playgrounds, eradicating and torturing human settlements by the dozen.

And all of that was only possible because behind the Solaris House… there stood someone powerful enough to go against the Demon King… Amon Solaris.

"Amon is the Demon Empire's greatest threat. If he isn't dealt with, all our plans would be for nought."

No matter how influential the Demon Empire was, no matter how many Demons they brought over from the Demon Realm… it all paled in comparison to absolute might.

And that was something Amon Solaris had.

"But he hasn't appeared since the Goddess broke the walls between our dimensions… Aren't you being too careful?"

"You should know better than to underestimate him. He has one foot in the door to immortality. With the Goddess on our side, we don't have to worry about losing the Mandate of Heaven just yet. But, once he wrests the control away from Hyades… our forces would be kicked out of this dimension forever."

That was the main reason for the Prophet's perpetual headache.

No matter how much they plotted and schemed… it was no match for absolute power.

And with Amon's trajectory, there was a high chance he would ascend to Heaven and challenge the Goddess for control over the planet.

And the worst part was… the Will of Heaven was on Amon's side.

The Goddess Hyades was the absolute sovereign of the realm. She had held this position for an unfathomable amount of time, and she wasn't about to relinquish that title. And if Amon dared to usurp her throne, he would be eradicated with the wrath of heaven.

At least… that was what would theoretically happen.

The Will of Heaven was no longer siding with Hyades. This dimension wished to grow, to ascend numerous divines and to form a new pantheon, one that could eventually evolve to match the Demon Realm.

But Hyades didn't want that.

She wished to hoard Heaven all for herself, even going to the point of inviting the Demons into her world and polluting it so that humans would never get the chance to ascend into heaven.

And she had got her wish… in another timeline.

The Will of Heaven turned itself into the Mysterious Grimoire and latched itself to Yue, allowing her to reverse time and live to fight another day. At the same time, the Will of Heaven gave Amon the chance to grow in another dimension before bringing him back to inherit his title as the Moon God, something Hyades would have never allowed.

All in all, the scales were tipped in Amon's favour.

Even with the almighty Goddess backing the Demon Empire… the Prophet had no confidence in defeating the future and rightful sovereign of the planet.

"Heh, what a dilemma." Zuphil chuckled as if it didn't affect him in the slightest. "So what are your plans for him?"

"... Didn't you hear from our King?"

"I heard he left it in your hands. So, I'm curious. With all the power of Autrach Xig'drodan behind you… What would you, Joroxin, plan to do?"

While the Prophet raised his eyebrows at the casual manner in which Zuphil addressed the Demon King, he didn't make too much of a fuss before answering:

"To take down an empire, we don't win by killing the King… we win by destroying its subjects."

The Prophet's gaze shifted toward the adjacent chamber, its doors trembling faintly as dense, suffocating waves of demonic mana seeped through the cracks.

It was the epicentre of their transformation—the crucible in which his Apostles had remade themselves.

The first to emerge were the Twin Brutes, Apostles of Vengeance.

Their towering forms radiated unrestrained fury, their very bones steeped in hatred. Whatever humanity they once possessed had long since been eroded. Their bodies had twisted into something grotesque and monstrous—muscles warped beyond reason, flesh hardened like armour, and eyes burning with an endless, bloodthirsty rage. They no longer resembled men, but incarnations of vengeance itself.

Next came Ravenna, the Apostle of Grief.

She stepped forward in silence, her hollowed eyes devoid of all light. A frigid wind trailed behind her, whispering like a mourning dirge. With every step she took, delicate ice flowers bloomed across the ground, only to wither moments later. The air around her grew deathly cold, heavy with sorrow and despair—an oppressive chill that pierced not just the body, but the soul.

Kieran, the Apostle of Domination, followed.

Unlike the others, his presence was subdued—almost scholarly in nature. Yet that calm exterior concealed something far more insidious. There was no need for overwhelming displays of power; his very existence imposed hierarchy. Those he deemed beneath him felt an irresistible force pressing down on their will, compelling submission without resistance. It was not brute strength, but absolute authority given form.

And finally… the most harrowing transformation of all.

Samael, the Apostle of Chaos.

He stepped forth last, and the very air seemed to distort in response. One of his arms had fully transformed into that of a demon's—veins pulsing with volatile energy, radiating a power on par with a Demon Duke. Demonic mana surged violently around him, yet it did not spiral out of control. Instead, it converged—condensing, compressing—as if guided by an unseen will. The laws of the world themselves appeared to waver in his presence, bending ever so slightly as a nascent demonic divinity took shape within his soul.

The remaining Apostles had emerged from their seclusion… ready to cause a storm to rummage through the world once more.