Chapter 8 – Flash Flood of Lightning

The rain poured in sheets, drenching the ruins of the city. Smoke curled from shattered buildings, and the scent of ash hung heavy in the air.

Claire stumbled back, her chest heaving, her crimson eyes wide. Before her stood Delmara—untouched.

“N-no way…” she gasped, trembling. “That spell… it did nothing?”

The towering demon commander laughed, the sound booming like thunder.
“Your greatest strike felt like nothing more than a tickle.”

Her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees, staff clattering on the wet pavement. Tears stung her eyes as she whispered, broken:
“Again… I’ve failed. I’ll never be as strong as her…”

Clara and Fubuki arrived just in time, cutting through the horde. Clara’s eyes widened at the sight of her sister collapsed in the rain.
“Claire! Are you alright?!” she cried, her voice desperate.

But Claire did not respond. Her spirit was shattered, her body trembling. Clara bit back her fear and turned her fury on Delmara, unleashing a torrent of spells. Fubuki followed, frost biting the air.

Delmara smirked—and then black armor enveloped his body. The runes etched across the plates pulsed with malignant light.

“Let me show you despair.” His voice was like a mountain collapsing. With each step, the air grew heavy, and suddenly Clara and Fubuki felt their strength drain away, their magic being ripped from their cores.

“Damn it! My mana… it’s being absorbed!” Clara cursed, forcing herself to stand.

Fubuki gritted his teeth. “He’s draining us…!”

Delmara raised his hammer high, crimson energy swirling.
“Weaklings. Prepare to die.”

The hammer came crashing down—only to be stopped mid-swing by a pebble.

CLANG!

The massive weapon spun through the air, embedding itself in the concrete.

From the smoke, a figure emerged. Black energy curled around his frame, golden eyes burning through the storm.

“I knew you’d show yourself eventually, Delmara.” Sentou’s voice was calm, but laced with venom. He stepped forward slowly. “Been a while. How’s that wound in your shoulder healing?”

Delmara’s eyes narrowed. “…You.”

Clara and Fubuki froze, shock rippling across their faces. Claire, lying weakly in the mud, could only stare at him blankly.

Delmara snarled. “You always ruin my fun!” He lunged without hesitation, his armored fists aimed to crush.

Sentou didn’t even flinch. He clapped his hands mockingly.
“Oh wow. You’ve gotten stronger. Did you do therapy or something?”

Delmara roared. “Trash! I’ll kill you and deliver your head to my king!”

Sentou tilted his head slightly, lips curling into a sharp smile.
“Oh? That old man’s still alive? If you manage to crawl back, do me a favor—send him my regards.”

He raised his staff for the first time in years. His voice thundered across the storm:

“O heavens that rumble, strike the earth with your fury!
O raging storm, become the bridge between heaven and earth!
With this staff, I summon eternal wrath!
Holy lightning beyond light itself,
Bare your fangs, tear through the darkness,
And burn my enemies to nothing!
SHINSEI NO RAIJIN!”

The sky split apart.

Blue-white lightning surged from the heavens, a thousand bolts branching into ten thousand more. The rain itself became conduits, every droplet a wire of divine electricity.

The city lit as bright as midday as a flood of lightning tore down. The sound was deafening, the stench of ozone choking the air. Demons screamed, their bodies lifted into the storm before burning to ash. Even Delmara’s black armor shattered under the endless strikes, his roar cut short in a blinding flash.

When the storm faded, nothing of him remained.

Silence fell. Clara and Fubuki stood frozen, their breaths ragged, their eyes wide in disbelief. Claire lay motionless, staring upward, her heart sinking deeper than ever.

“…Again… the strongest one isn’t me… or even my sister. It’s him. The one I… envy.”

Sentou lowered his staff, his face expressionless. He glanced at Claire once, then turned away, ignoring Clara and Fubuki entirely.

“This is what I’ve been saying all along. Humanity, power, ideals—none of it matters. On the battlefield, it’s all nonsense.” His voice was cold, final.

Without another word, he walked into the rain, his black aura fading into the shadows.

High above, on the rooftop of a ruined building, a woman stood beneath a crimson umbrella. Her long red hair glistened, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

She smiled as she watched Sentou’s figure vanish into the storm.

“So… you’re the one.”

The night closed around them, and the true war had only just begun.