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Chapter 345: Chapter 341 ~ Grand Scale Assault

"Loki! What is the meaning of this?!"

The chamber trembled as Loki stepped fully into the hall, the protective barrier of the meeting room fracturing behind him like shattered glass. 

His silver-white hair fluttered wildly, his long white coat billowing as if caught in an unseen storm, one born not of wind, but of the physical, violent manifestation of the divinity and magic of a true God.

A crooked sneer twisted his lips as his sharp eyes swept across the gathered leaders.

"I am here," Loki declared coldly, "to correct the mistakes you have made, All-Father."

Venom dripped from every single word he uttered. His gaze burned as it locked onto Odin.

"Evidently, age has finally dulled your judgment. So senile that you would even consider allying with the very forces who dared spread their twisted beliefs upon our soil." 

His voice rose with scorn, enough to make sure that his words were heard with painful clarity to the two Seraphs and their servants. 

"And that realization made one thing painfully clear to me."

Loki clenched his pearl-white teeth, then spread his arms wide, as if presenting the world itself for judgment.

"This world has grown soft. Weak."

His laughter was sharp, humorless.

"Even Asgard—once a pantheon that ruled through fear and strength, that conquered—has fallen so low as to shake hands with fools who spent centuries slaughtering one another, only to be halted by two overgrown lizards that caused the deaths of their so-called leaders."

His eyes flicked toward the representatives of the three factions, contempt undisguised, then towards Yuuji, Aika, and Erika.

"And now, you even frolic with humans?" Loki scoffed. 

"Truly… how far you have all fallen."

A heavy tension filled the hall.

Teeth clenched. Wings twitched.

Even Michael and Gabriel—beings of near-unshakable serenity—frowned deeply at Loki's words.

Loki exhaled slowly, his expression darkening.

"But I, too, have fallen," he continued, voice lowering. 

"It wounds me deeply—to my very divine soul—that I ever clasped hands with such a filthy existence."

A flicker of disgust crossed his face.

"And yet… our goals align."

His eyes gleamed with manic fervor.

"So I will endure. Endure until this world is cleansed—until it is plunged into chaos and war, burned to its very foundations… and reborn anew."

Loki raised one hand.

A brilliant blue magic circle flared beneath his feet.

From it erupted a monstrous howl that tore through the hall like a living force.

The ground shook violently as a massive wolf emerged—its form colossal, its presence suffocating. Whirlwinds spiraled outward from its roar, rattling the very walls of Asgard.

Then another circle flared. And another.

Two more wolves manifested—smaller than the first, yet still gargantuan, their eyes glowing with predatory malice.

"Now," Loki sneered, sweeping his arm outward, "let us end this farce."

"Let Ragnarök begin—and remake this world anew!"

With a sharp gesture, the three wolves lunged forward.

The meeting table shattered as Fenrir, Sköll, and Hati struck—forcing Odin and Thor back, violently separating them from the representatives of the three factions and Yuuji's group.

"You have gone too far, Loki!" Thor roared, divine lightning crackling around him. 

"You shall pay for this transgression!"

Loki laughed wildly.

"Hahaha! Then come, brother! Let us see if you still possess the strength to back your words!"

Thunder and divine might collided as Odin and Thor surged forward, engaging Loki directly.

"Michael! Azazel!" Sirzechs called sharply. 

"We deal with Fenrir, Sköll, and Hati—quickly! Then we support Odin and Thor!"

"Understood," Michael replied, his wings unfurling in a radiant blaze. 

"We fight as one. Gabriel, please support us."

"Yes, dear brother!"

Azazel cracked his neck, grinning despite the tension.

"Well, this meeting sure escalated fast. Guess a little chaos spices things up, huh?"

Wings exploded outward across the hall.

Sirzechs and Serafall revealed their full twelve devil wings. Michael and Gabriel unfolded twelve radiant white wings. Azazel and Baraqiel unleashed twelve black-feathered wings, power surging.

Their escorts—Grayfia, Okita Souji, Dulio, Tobio, and Lavinia—moved instantly, forming battle formations.

Azazel barked orders over his shoulder.

"Rias, Sona, Irina—you kids, along with the Valkyries, back up Odin and Thor. But don't overextend. This is not a fight you'll survive head-on."

Then he turned toward Yuuji and his group, a crooked smirk on his face—though his eyes were sharp, calculating.

"Care to help?" Azazel asked lightly. 

"We'll pay. Handsomely."

He didn't truly expect Loki to barge in unprepared—not against this many powerhouses. There had to be a plan. An artifact. A contingency.

Something.

Yuuji, however, simply smiled.

"Of course," he replied calmly. 

"I'll be protecting Rias, Akeno, and the others."

Then his eyes gleamed faintly.

"But you adults should be able to handle this much… right?"

Azazel clicked his tongue, shaking his head.

"Damn. There goes my plan of letting you handle everything."

Still, relief flickered in his gaze.

"At least I know the kids won't die."

"Alright," he muttered, power flaring. "Guess I'll work a little harder for once."

With that, the leaders of the factions and their escorts surged forward—divinity, demonic power, and sacred light bursting forth from their figures. 

Just as Sirzechs and the other faction leaders prepared to move—wings flaring, power surging—a crushing force slammed down between them and the three wolves.

The air distorted.

A massive light green magic circle blazed into existence, its runes twisting with malevolent precision.

The attack struck like a wall, halting them mid-motion.

Everyone turned… and there he stood.

Shalba Beelzebub.

He appeared with a cold, arrogance beneath his expression as he lowered his outstretched hand, the remnants of the spell dispersing like embers in the air. 

Then behind him, dozens—no, hundreds—of devils poured forth through newly opened magic circles, their eyes glowing with madness and crimson runes carved directly into their flesh.

"Hmph," Shalba scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain.

"I despise the very notion of cooperating with him as well. But even so… as a clown, his performance was worthy of praise."

Silence fell.

Then—

"Shalba…?!"

"W-What are you doing here?!"

Sirzechs and Serafall reacted instantly, eyes widening in recognition. Michael, Gabriel, Azazel, and Baraqiel stiffened as well—memories of the Great War flashing through their minds.

The descendant of the original Beelzebub. A relic of an age soaked in blood, war, despair, and chaos.

"Geez…" Azazel muttered, rubbing his temple. 

"Another headache I really didn't need."

Baraqiel said nothing. But his expression hardened into something lethal.

His gaze flicked briefly toward the far end of the battlefield—toward Akeno, standing with Rias's peerage and Yuuji's group. Worry, guilt, and resolve flashed through his eyes in rapid succession.

He had lost Shuri. He would not lose his daughter.

Even if it meant staking his life.

Shalba's gaze swept across the gathered leaders, disgust radiating from him like poison. His eyes lingered on the Seraphs and the Fallen with open contempt—

But when his gaze landed on Sirzechs and Serafall…

It sharpened into pure hatred.

"What am I doing here…?" he repeated softly.

Then his voice rose, filled with venom.

"I am here to finish what those two failures couldn't. To kill both of you. To end the farce of these so-called Demon Kings… and restore the Underworld to its rightful ruler."

Sirzechs' usual gentle smile vanished.

In its place rose something cold. Ancient. Terrifying.

Crimson-black Destruction energy bled from his body, cracking the air around him.

"You've gone too far, Shalba."

Shalba's lips curled upward.

"Interesting choice of words," he replied calmly.

"I was planning to go much further."

He snapped his fingers.

Reality screamed.

Teleportation magic circles erupted—not just within the meeting hall, but throughout Asgard itself. Outside the shattered windows, the sky filled with burning sigils, dozens upon dozens blooming like malignant stars.

From them descended monstrous devils—towering abominations roaring with mindless hatred. Cloaked magicians followed, chanting in unison as they unleashed spell after spell.

"There's plenty more where these came from," Shalba said casually.

"So how about we divide your forces… and grind you down?"

He lowered his hand.

"Go."

The devils surged forward.

The meeting hall exploded outward as walls and ceilings shattered under the onslaught, the battlefield expanding into the open skies of Asgard.

Outside—

Screams echoed.

Devils and mages descended upon the city, civilians scattering in panic as city guards struggled desperately to hold the line.

"Hmph," Loki sneered, watching the chaos unfold.

"Crude, but effective."

"Loki!" Odin roared, fury blazing in his single eye.

"Do you realize what you've done?! You've brought cursed devils into Asgard—into our city—against our own people?!"

"Save your breath, brother," Loki replied lazily.

"You'll need it to survive what's coming."

"Kuh—!"

Odin and Thor were immediately engulfed by waves of berserk devils, creatures that knew neither fear nor pain.

"Odin-sama! Thor-sama!"

Rossweisse moved instinctively, Valkyries following close behind—but Odin's voice cut through the chaos.

"Rossweisse! Protect the people! Evacuate them—now!"

She froze for a split second—

Then nodded sharply.

"Understood!" she shouted.

She raised her broad sword high in the air, her beautiful voice echoing throughout the chamber, piercing even the roars of devils. 

"Sisters! Follow me! Protect our home and the people of Asgard!"

"Yes!"

The Valkyries took flight, streaking toward the city.

Michael ignited his sword in brilliant divine flame and swung, a wave of purifying light erasing dozens of devils in an instant. He turned to Dulio, who had already activated Zenith Tempest, storm clouds forming above.

"Dulio." Michael commanded calmly.

"Go outside. Protect the civilians. Your Sacred Gear is better suited for wide-scale combat."

"But Michael-sama—"

"We'll manage." Michael said firmly.

"Protect as many as you can, and save who you can. Quick."

"Yes!"

Dulio vanished in a flash of lightning.

"Tobio, Reni—go!" Azazel ordered. 

"Protect the citizens!"

"Grayfia, Okita—you too!" Sirzechs added. 

"Shalba's forces are everywhere!"

"G-Got it!"

"Yes!"

"Understood."

"Very well…!"

Reluctantly, they obeyed.

Rias clenched her fists.

"Sona," she said sharply, "we can't let the leaders be overwhelmed."

Sona nodded immediately.

"We'll handle Skoll and Hati. You deal with Fenrir."

"Got it!"

Rias, Akeno, Asia, Issei, Kiba, and Koneko launched themselves toward the massive wolf.

"Shido-san," Sona turned to Irina, "go help them."

"R-Right!"

Irina's bracelet transformed into a radiant katana as she followed after them.

At the center of it all— Yuuji closed his eyes.

For a brief moment, the chaos faded.

Then he opened them—and raised his hand.

A swirling black portal opened beside him.

From it stepped Xenovia, clad in her battle uniform, Durandal resting against her back.

She smiled faintly at Yuuji—then her expression hardened as she took to the battlefield.

"So… it happened just as you predicted."

"Unfortunately," Yuuji replied with a wry smile.

"But that means it's a good time to show the results of your training."

Xenovia's eyes lit up.

"Yes."

She turned to Erika and bowed slightly.

"Master, please watch."

"Go get them," Erika grinned, giving her a thumbs-up.

Xenovia tore the cloth from Durandal and charged forward.

Moments later—

"EH?! XENOVIA-CHAN?!" Irina's shocked voice echoed across the battlefield.

Yuuji chuckled softly.

Then he turned to Aika, Albedo, and Erika.

"Well then," he said calmly, power stirring beneath the surface.

"Shall we end this charade soon?"

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