The sound of a battle horn filled the air in the City of Tarth. Its cry was deep and haunting, reverberating through the marble streets and echoing off the domes of the mosques. Merchants froze mid-trade, mothers clutched their children, and the faithful turned their eyes skyward. Soldiers marched swiftly toward the gates, armor clattering in rhythm, while the city watch scrambled to man their stations. Panic rippled through the crowd like wildfire.
Then, a voice rose above the chaos — strong, steady, and commanding.
"My beloved family, my brothers and sisters of Tarth — hear me. At our doors, the devil himself knocks. He comes not only for our walls, but for the blood of our children, the laughter of our homes, the sanctity of our way of life. He seeks to drown our city in fear, to tear apart the bonds that make us strong.
But he will fail.
For we are not alone. We are a people of faith, a people of courage. Allah has not abandoned us — He will use us, your sons and brothers, as His tools to shield you. We will stand as the wall between you and the darkness. We will fight until our last breath, and we will not falter.
So I ask you now — do not let fear take root in your hearts. Hold fast to your faith, cling to your prayers, and trust in the strength of your guardians. Follow the men who will guide you to safety in the capital building. Protect your children, protect your families, and know that while you move to safety, we will remain here, standing firm, carrying the burden of battle so that you may live.
Raise your heads high, my family. The devil may knock, but he will find no weakness here. He will find a city united, a people unbroken, and a faith that cannot be extinguished. Together, with Allah's mercy, we will endure. Together, we will prevail."
Hamza's voice echoed through Tarth as he stood on the balcony of the highest chamber of the church, his armor gleaming in the sunlight. His words rolled through the streets like a tide, calming the storm of panic.
The people below erupted in cheers, their fear replaced with resolve. Guided by the watchmen, families moved swiftly yet calmly toward the capital building. Its massive doors shut behind them, sealing them in safety.
Hamza leapt from the balcony, soaring across five hundred meters with supernatural grace, landing atop the city wall. His eyes narrowed as he beheld the horde of demons rushing toward Tarth — some sprinting across the earth, others soaring through the sky on leathery wings.
He raised his hand, signaling the soldiers. "Archers! Fire!"
Flaming arrows streaked through the sky, raining down upon the horde. Screeches filled the air as demons fell, some plummeting from the heavens, others writhing in flames. The barrage slowed their advance, but only slightly.
"Raise the fire wall!" Hamza commanded, swiping his left hand.
Across the battlements, men pressed their palms to the stone and chanted in unison. "Blazing wall of protection!"
A colossal wall of fire erupted between the horde and the city, stretching three hundred meters high and fifty meters thick. Demons who touched it were incinerated instantly, their screams piercing the battlefield. Archers focused on those attempting to fly over, cutting them down midair.
From the demon ranks, Abaddon sneered. "Resilient humans… but futile. This resistance ends here." Lightning crackled in his hand, and he hurled it at the wall. The bolt tore through the flames like paper, streaking toward the city.
But before it struck, a gust of wind redirected the attack.
"That," Cranel's voice rang out, "is what you call power."
He hovered above the battlefield, his crimson eyes burning.
"Hamza!" Cranel shouted. "Hold the wall as best you can. I'll take the fight to them!"
"Allah be with you, brother!" Hamza roared back. "MEN! Hold your stations! Do not yield an inch! Kill them where they stand!"
Hamza vaulted down to the ground troops, his sword gleaming as he joined the front lines.
Meanwhile, Cranel descended into the horde. Wind magic surged around him, repelling demons in every direction. A towering thirty-foot monster lunged, its claws aiming to crush him. Cranel raised a shimmering blue shield, absorbing the blows. Then, with a flick of his hand, the shield expanded, encapsulating the beast. It constricted violently, crushing the demon into pulp. The shield shrank into a glowing orb, which Cranel hurled into the horde, piercing and bludgeoning demons with devastating precision.
"Come on!" Cranel shouted, his voice echoing across the battlefield. "Is this all you monsters can do?"
Beelzebub watched from afar, his eyes gleaming. "Satan… that human you tried to intimidate is holding the vanguard alone."
Satan's grin widened. "Then I'll kill him myself!"
Lucifer's voice cut through, cold and commanding. "Not yet. The Ars Goetia will engage first. We seven must conserve our strength for Lilith."
Satan snarled but relented. "Fine. Sallos, Purson — end that human."
The two demons rode forth, Sallos astride a monstrous crocodile, Purson atop a great bear. Their eyes locked on Cranel, who stood drenched in demon blood, his killing intent radiating like a storm.
"We have come for your head, by order of Lord Satan," Sallos declared, pointing his blade.
Cranel's crimson eyes gleamed. "Come take it, demon."