Elder Nathan stood alone on a jagged cliff overlooking the twisted hellscape, his weathered hands gripping his staff as he surveyed the approaching horde. The Flame Cyclone rose behind him like a beacon, its light attracting not just survivors but every demon within fifty miles.And they were coming. Thousands upon thousands of them, a writhing mass of claws, fangs, and hatred that stretched to the horizon."Well," Nathan muttered, pulling a golden sword from his spatial storage, "this is going to hurt."The blade gleamed absurdly in Hell's crimson light—pure gold inlaid with diamonds that caught and refracted the fire's glow. The matching shield he withdrew was equally ostentatious, its surface studded with enough gems to buy a small kingdom.Nathan pressed two fingers to his temple and reached through the dimensional barrier connecting him to his contracted partner. "Silverwing. I need you."A mental voice responded immediately, youthful and irritated. Again? I just helped you three

Dean Vincent materialized at the Sharp Knife Squad's camp in a flash of spatial magic, his round face beaming with relief. "Wonderful news, everyone! The portal seals are weakening. We'll be able to leave Hell in exactly two days!"The students erupted into cheers, hugging each other and shouting with joy. Rocco pumped his fist in the air while others openly wept with relief.Vincent's triumphant smile froze when his gaze landed on the massive pile beside the campfire. Mountains of wrinkled, foul-smelling fruits sat beside stacks of preserved fish that looked like they'd been dead for decades. The stench alone made his eyes water."What in the blazing hells is that?" he sputtered, covering his nose."Demon Excrement Fruit and Hell Salted Fish," Marco answered casually, selecting a particularly grotesque brown fruit from the pile. He bit into it with obvious satisfaction, juice dribbling down his chin. "Want some?"Vincent's face went pale. "You've been eating that?! My poor students,

Marshal Montgomery stood before the Hell Rift, his weathered face lined with suspicion as he studied the portal that had cost so much blood to reopen. Around him, the assembled might of the Eight Great Families waited—over one hundred thousand elite soldiers, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun.But something felt wrong. The seal had broken too easily. The Hell Sect's resistance had been fierce but ultimately futile, almost theatrical."Marshal?" General Wade approached, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "The portal is stable. We should advance immediately. Our children are still in there.""I know, Marcus." Montgomery's jaw tightened. "But patience may save more lives than haste."He turned to address his officers, his voice carrying authority earned through forty years of warfare. "We proceed cautiously. First wave—three thousand vanguard troops under Captain Reynolds. Archmage Sullivan will accompany them to establish teleportation coordinates once inside.""Only three thou

The teleportation scroll's magic deposited Marco and nearly three hundred students directly onto cobblestone streets with an unceremonious thump. Disoriented students stumbled to their feet, blinking in the sudden daylight after days in Hell's crimson gloom."We made it!" someone shouted. "We're home!"Cheers erupted through the crowd—until they looked up and realized exactly where they'd landed.A massive three-story building loomed before them, its facade painted in garish red and gold. Silk curtains hung from every window, and the air carried the cloying scent of perfume and incense. Above the ornate entrance, painted letters proclaimed: SCARLET BUILDING - PREMIUM ENTERTAINMENT FOR DISCERNING GENTLEMEN.A heavily made-up woman in a scandalously tight red dress appeared in the doorway, her eyes widening with delight at the crowd of young people."My, my!" She clapped her hands together, her voice dripping honey. "Nearly three hundred handsome young customers! Welcome, welcome! The S

The Grand Phoenix Inn's lobby had transformed into bedlam. Guests scrambled through corridors clutching hastily packed bags, while the innkeeper stood at the front desk, desperately waving contracts."You haven't paid!" he shrieked at a fleeing nobleman. "Your bill is seventy gold!""Send it to my estate!" the man shouted back, already halfway out the door.Outside, the sounds of battle echoed through Portland City's streets—steel clashing, screams of the wounded, buildings collapsing under magical assault. In the sky above, flashes of light marked where the deans continued their desperate fight against Adelaide's forces.Marco gathered his students in the courtyard, quickly counting heads. Fifty-three total, including Rocco. Not everyone—some had scattered into the city when chaos erupted—but enough to manage."Listen up!" His voice cut through the panicked chatter. "We're heading for the south gate. Stay together, move fast, and don't stop for anything. Clear?""What about the deans