The three days passed like accelerated entropy.The Baptized fortified the cathedral ruins, knowing it wouldn't matter. Treated wounded, knowing they'd never fully heal before the next crisis. Trained combat drills, knowing they were preparing for a fight their leader would face alone.Azrael spent the time studying the challenge scroll's details. The Arena of Bone and Ash—formal combat ground where the Demon King settled disputes with rivals who earned his attention. The rules were surprisingly straightforward. Single combat until surrender or death. No outside interference. Victory recognized by all Underworld hierarchy."I'm coming with you," Maya said on the second night. Not asking. Stating."The challenge specifies—""Single combat in the arena, yes. Doesn't say you have to travel alone. Doesn't say you can't bring witnesses." She met his eyes. "You think I'm letting you walk into the Underworld without someone watching your back during the approach?""She's right," Sariel added

The arena floor blazed white-hot, centuries of accumulated death igniting into inferno that made breathing feel like inhaling molten glass.Azrael's Black Flame responded immediately, creating protective barrier around him. But this wasn't like deflecting attacks or consuming divine judgment. This was environmental. Constant. The entire arena had become oven designed to cook anything inside it slowly, thoroughly, completely."Second trial is endurance," the Demon King called from his safe position at the arena's edge. "You changed the terms of the first trial beautifully. Made strength irrelevant. But endurance doesn't care about philosophy. It just measures how long you can persist when existence itself hurts."The temperature continued rising. Azrael felt it through his protective barrier—the Black Flame was holding, but burning energy at unsustainable rate. Every second cost him. Every moment of survival depleting reserves he'd need for whatever came after.In the observation deck,