[Location: Wrath's Palace, Wrath Circle, Seventh Hell]

Sigh~

"It seems we are on time."

"Wrath is totally pushed back in the corner again~"

"That angry bird is shaming us as a Satan as well, Hmph!"

One by one, six figures materialised inside through the small hole in the Space Locked barrier, which closed right after.

Grayfia glanced at the kneeling Witch one last time before releasing her aura without restraint, though against all seven.

Defeat is all but certain.

The moment six more of them stepped through the breach, the entire Wrath Circle quaked.

Grayfia's silver eyes narrowed. The temperature plummeted further, the frost now biting through stone, freezing magma mid-flow. Her breath came out calm, steady, like the stillness before divine judgment.

Six Satans. Each one radiating a different wavelength of dominion—Greed's suffocating consumption, Pride's regal arrogance, Sloth's warped serenity, Lust's intoxicating distortion, Envy's crawling venom, and Gluttony's bottomless hunger. Together, they formed a storm that made reality buckle.

And in the centre of it, Wrath—half-consumed by his Sin Trigger form—growled like a chained beast.

"Finally," he spat, his molten form still smouldering from Grayfia's last strike. "You took your damn time."

Pride stepped forward, immaculate as ever, golden armour shining even in the darkness of Hell. "Your impatience is unbecoming of a Satan, Wrath. But…" His crimson eyes turned toward Grayfia, calculating. "…I'll admit. She made you look pathetic."

Wrath's jaw cracked as he snarled, molten saliva sizzling on the ground. "You dare—!"

"Silence," Pride commanded, and the word itself carried authority that sliced through Wrath's rage. "Your tantrums will not undo the embarrassment you've caused us. The Queen of Annihilation alone… pushed a Satan to the brink. If word of this spreads—"

Grayfia's voice cut through his monologue, cold and absolute. "It already has."

The six turned toward her in unison, the air freezing again as her aura surged outward. The marble under her feet split like ice cracking across a lake.

"You think Hell is blind to its own trembling?" she continued softly. "The Wrath Circle burned, the lower layers shook. Even your precious seals faltered. Every demon above the Third Hell already knows you've gathered—all seven of you—against a single maid."

Her lips curved faintly, a hint of cruel amusement. "How glorious."

A murmur ran through the group. Lust giggled—a low, melodic sound that rippled through the frozen air. "Mmm~ Such arrogance. I can almost taste her pride… how nostalgic~"

Sloth sighed lazily beside her, his form draped in dark robes that shimmered like liquid ink. "So noisy. Can we end this quickly? I was dreaming of silence before Wrath started screaming."

"End this?" Envy hissed, his serpentine eyes glowing green. "No… I want to watch her bleed. The way she humiliated Wrath—unforgivable. That insolence must be peeled off her skin."

Greed chuckled, flipping a golden coin between his fingers. "Careful now. There's value in restraint. She's a relic of the Morningstar line. Dead, yes—but relics have… uses."

Grayfia tilted her head slightly. "Relics burn when touched by the unworthy."

The coin in Greed's hand cracked.

Pride's eyes narrowed. "Still defiant, Lucifuge? Even surrounded by seven of Hell's Thrones?"

Grayfia's silver gaze met his. "You mistake survival for defiance."

Silence followed. Then, slowly, Pride's smirk faded. "Then let us test which it is."

He raised his hand. Seven halos—each carved from their respective sins—manifested above the Satans. The atmosphere imploded, every ounce of existence bending under the combined authority of the Seven.

Grayfia's silver aura wavered, frost retreating against the sheer mass of their dominion. The floor cracked beneath her boots; her knees trembled once—but she didn't fall.

Instead, her eyes softened.

"So, this is how far you've fallen," she murmured. "Even together, you need numbers to face the shadow of his name."

Pride's face hardened. "Do not speak that name here."

Wrath's laughter rolled through the hall, distorted and broken. "Hah! The Morningstar is dust! You worship a ghost, maid!"

Grayfia's eyes closed. Her lips moved silently, whispering something none of them could hear.

Then, her aura shifted.

It wasn't frost anymore. It wasn't even annihilation.

It was absence.

The frost around her turned black—not from heat, but from lack of light. Even the fires of Wrath dimmed, recoiling.

Greed stumbled back. "What—what is this—?"

"Concept nullification," Pride hissed. His voice trembled despite his control. "She's rewriting the field…!"

Grayfia's eyes opened. Twin voids of white light glowed where irises should be. "This realm… belongs to no one now."

Then she raised her hand.

The seven halos above them flickered. One by one, cracks appeared—fine hairline fractures spreading across the divine structures of sin.

Wrath screamed. "IMPOSSIBLE!"

Lust's seductive calm broke into panic. "That's—she's—"

Pride slammed his hand down. "REINFORCE THE DOMINION!"

Their combined sin erupted—flames, gold, venom, void, hunger, desire, sloth—all surged, colliding into a maelstrom of pure infernal essence. The Wrath Palace shattered completely. The sky bled red and black, the ground split into rivers of molten sin, and Hell itself convulsed like a living organism in agony.

The Witch, far below, crawled behind a broken pillar, barely maintaining her breath. "That's not a battle… It's a war of existence…"

She watched as Grayfia, standing in the eye of chaos, extended her other hand. Frost coiled upward from her palm, fusing with the collapsing darkness into a single sphere.

"House Morningstar—Act II," she intoned softly.

Pride's eyes widened. "She's invoking again—!"

"—Zero Point: Domain Collapse."

Everything turned white.

The world screamed, then fell silent.

For several heartbeats, there was nothing. No heat. No sound. No sensation. Just void.

Then—

BOOOOOOM!

The blast tore across the Wrath Circle. The sky split. The pillars of Hell tilted. The lower circles howled in resonance, entire demonic armies kneeling as reality reconfigured itself from the sheer output of annihilation.

When the light faded—

Grayfia stood at the centre of a crater that stretched miles across. The palace was gone. The air shimmered with residual frost and golden motes of sin energy, still crackling from the Seven's shattered halos.

Pride staggered to his feet first, his armour cracked, blood dripping from his mouth. Wrath knelt, and his Sin Trigger form melted away. Lust and Envy clutched their chests, gasping, while Greed's arm was missing entirely.

Sloth alone still floated, though his robes were in tatters. His tired eyes blinked once. "…She's still standing."

Grayfia's shoulders rose and fell slowly, her breath uneven. Frost bled from her wounds, steam rising with every exhale. Even her hair, once pristine silver, was now dimmed to ashen white.

Yet she smiled.

"You still live," she said quietly. "Then my mercy remains."

Pride coughed, his hand trembling as he reached for his sword. "You call this… mercy?"

Grayfia tilted her head. "You're alive, aren't you?"

Wrath growled, trying to stand—and collapsed again. The Sin Trigger form flickered, unstable.

Envy's voice cracked through the silence. "We… we can't kill her."

"No," Pride rasped, wiping blood from his chin. "Not yet. Not here." His eyes, filled with controlled fury, locked on her. "But this—this defiance—will not go unanswered."

He straightened, every motion an act of will. "Withdraw."

Wrath's snarl echoed, but even he obeyed. The seven slowly faded, their essences pulling back through spatial fractures one by one, until the Wrath Palace was empty—save for ruins, frost, and one woman standing amid silence.

Grayfia exhaled, her knees finally buckling. Galleons of blood rushed from her lips as she dropped to one knee. The world swayed, her vision fracturing into streaks of white and crimson. For a fleeting second, her mind registered the taste of iron—and silence.

"C-Coin... T-Transference..."

Then she collapsed.

But the spell still got activated.

A magic circle formed under her fallen form, and enveloped her in an intense, bright light for a brief moment.

When the glow faded, there was nothing left in the crater—no body, no blood, not even residual mana. Only frost, spreading outward like a quiet infection, freezing what little remained of Wrath's Palace ruins.

The Witch—half-conscious, trembling—peeked over the shattered pillar. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "S-she's gone…?"

She hurriedly checked the Space Lock spell on her, still intact.

"Which m-means she... she was never TRAPPED!"

The Witch was shaken to the core of her realisation. The Witch's voice broke into a trembling whisper.

"She planned this… from the start."

The ground beneath her shuddered again, not from combat, but from aftershocks of the annihilation Grayfia left behind. The frozen veins of the Wrath Circle extended like roots, devouring the molten rivers of sin, hardening them into crystallised frost. Every spark of infernal fire struggled to breathe—Hell's wrath was suffocating beneath the echo of a single woman's will.

Far above, through the torn veil of crimson sky, the trembling forms of countless lesser demons kneeled. Even beings who had never seen Wrath's Palace bowed instinctively. Not to her presence—she was gone—but to her imprint. The mark of an existence that had defied the Seven Satans at once.

The Witch, barely steady, stared at the expanding frost field. "She didn't fight to win…" she whispered, her voice cracking. "…She fought to send something."

Then her eyes widened. "She was giving Satans something to focus on... leaving the Prince alone, buying time for him to grow!"

Her trembling lips parted, the truth dawning like a dreadful sunrise.

"She… diverted them," the Witch whispered. "All of them."

The realisation made her legs give out, and she fell to her knees amidst the fractured stone and encroaching frost. Her breath came in sharp gasps that crystallised before her face. "Every strike… every invocation… it wasn't about killing them—it was to anchor their wrath here."

Then she looked around the desolate ground, Wrath's Palace all but gone.

"Who's gonna pay me?!"

***

Stone me, I can take it!

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