The moment Baal descended, the world changed.
Not emotionally.
Physically.
The sky above the Third Tower darkened as if light itself had died. Mana across the battlefield became violent and unstable, surging through the air like a living thing trying to escape. Thousands of mages collapsed instantly, clutching their throats as blood poured from their mouths and noses.
Some died before they even hit the ground.
Others remained alive long enough to scream.
The battlefield froze beneath overwhelming pressure.
Baal slowly descended from the shattered sky surrounded by darkness so dense it distorted reality around him. His presence alone twisted the atmosphere. Space cracked wherever his feet touched. Even looking directly at him for too long caused weaker minds to collapse.
And then his army came.
Massive tears opened across the heavens worldwide as endless legions descended behind him.
The true Celestral army.
Not the small forces humanity had been fighting until now.
This was the real invasion.
Winged soldiers covered the skies like a plague while gigantic humanoid creatures formed from condensed divine mana descended alongside floating fortresses larger than mountains. Some creatures possessed dozens of arms carrying golden weapons. Others resembled twisted angels with hollow faces and black wings dripping corrupted light.
The world drowned in panic.
Across every battlefield, surviving mages watched the skies fill endlessly with enemies.
And Baal laughed.
A deep, monstrous laugh that echoed across the entire world.
People thousands of kilometers away heard it clearly.
Children cried.
Veteran soldiers collapsed in fear.
Even monsters emerging from nearby Towers retreated instinctively from his presence.
Near the Third Tower, several thousand combat mages still stood frozen in disbelief. Many were elite veterans who had survived years of war against both monsters and Celestrals.
Then one commander screamed.
"ATTACK HIM!"
Hundreds of spells erupted toward Baal at once.
Flames.
Lightning.
Wind blades.
Explosive mana projectiles.
The attacks never reached him.
They vanished before touching his body.
Not blocked.
Not deflected.
Erased.
Baal slowly turned his head toward the charging mages.
And then the massacre began.
Several low-ranking mages exploded instantly as their bodies failed under his pressure alone. Blood burst from their eyes before their skulls collapsed inward. Others dropped choking onto the battlefield as veins across their bodies ruptured one after another.
The stronger mages forced themselves forward despite the terror.
One launched a seventh-rank lightning spell directly toward Baal's chest.
Baal raised a finger.
The mage disappeared.
Not burned.
Not shattered.
Gone.
Erased so completely even blood failed to remain.
Panic spread instantly.
But there was nowhere to run.
With a simple wave of his hand, invisible force crushed hundreds of mages simultaneously. Bones snapped. Armor folded inward. Entire bodies burst apart into clouds of blood and shattered flesh.
Screams filled the battlefield.
Then suddenly stopped.
Within less than a minute, thousands of combat mages were dead.
Baal looked down upon the corpses covering the ruined battlefield and smiled.
"So amusing."
His voice echoed unnaturally across the world.
"For lower beings, you fought far better than expected."
The surviving Celestrals knelt behind him.
Baal slowly spread his arms toward the sky.
"But playtime is over."
The darkness above the world deepened.
"The real war begins now."
The remaining Mage Lords watched the scene from afar in complete silence.
For the first time since the beginning of the war, hope disappeared from their eyes.
Because they finally understood the truth.
Everything humanity fought until now had only been the beginning.
And Baal…
Baal was something else entirely.
The war after Baal's arrival became absolute despair.
Entire nations disappeared within weeks.
Celestral armies marched across continents unstoppable beneath Baal's command. Floating fortresses erased cities from existence using divine bombardments powerful enough to leave craters visible for hundreds of kilometers.
The oceans turned red in some regions.
Tower monsters rampaged uncontrollably under the influence of Baal's overwhelming mana, attacking everything in sight. Refugee caravans were slaughtered daily. Corpses filled roads between surviving cities.
Humanity was losing.
No.
Humanity was being exterminated.
Even the Mage Lords struggled to survive direct encounters against Baal's elite forces. The Fire Mage Lord lost an arm defending a collapsing fortress city. The Wind Mage Lord nearly died after fighting three Celestral commanders simultaneously for seven straight days.
Only the Mage Queen remained capable of opposing Baal's advance directly.
But even she could not defeat him.
Every battle against Baal ended the same way.
He regenerated.
Wounds closed instantly.
Destroyed flesh restored itself within seconds.
Even when the Mage Queen personally erased half his body during the Battle of the Burning Sky, Baal simply laughed while reforming before her eyes.
He could not be killed.
And slowly, humanity realized the horrifying truth.
If Baal remained free, the world would eventually fall no matter how long they resisted.
So the Mage Queen made a decision.
If Baal could not be killed…
Then he would be sealed.
Deep beneath the remaining dwarven kingdoms, the greatest craftsmen in history began creating a weapon unlike anything ever forged before. Every surviving race contributed resources. Rare minerals from Tower floors, monster cores, ancient artifacts, and divine remains taken from dead Celestrals were melted together over months of impossible labor.
The dwarves called it a weapon.
But it was not designed to destroy.
It was designed to imprison.
A sealing artifact powerful enough to immobilize even Baal himself.
Yet another problem soon appeared.
The artifact required unimaginable magical power to activate.
More power than ordinary mages could provide.
Even the Mage Lords alone were not enough.
Only one possibility remained.
The final battle began one year later.
By then, humanity stood on the edge of extinction.
Only a few major strongholds remained across the world. Endless Celestral armies surrounded surviving territories while Tower monsters continued spreading destruction everywhere.
The battlefield chosen for the final confrontation became the land surrounding the last active central warfront.
The sky itself trembled as Baal descended once again.
Behind him marched countless Celestral legions.
And waiting for him stood the five first-generation Mage Lords and the Mage Queen.
The final battle shattered the world.
The Fire Mage Lord burned entire mountain ranges into oceans of magma. The Wind Mage Lord tore apart floating fortresses using storms powerful enough to split clouds across continents. The Earth Mage Lord raised walls larger than cities to hold back advancing legions.
Millions died.
The battlefield became a graveyard of flesh, blood, and burning mana.
Yet Baal continued advancing.
Laughing.
Untouched.
Because he truly believed nothing in the world could threaten him anymore.
And that arrogance became humanity's only chance.
During the height of battle, the Mage Lords unleashed every remaining ounce of mana into the sealing artifact.
The world shook.
Massive chains formed from condensed magical law erupted across the battlefield and wrapped around Baal's body instantly.
For the first time…
His smile disappeared.
The Fire Mage Lord screamed as blood exploded from his skin under the strain of feeding mana into the artifact. The Wind Mage Lord collapsed to one knee while veins across his body ruptured violently.
Still they continued.
More chains emerged.
Baal roared for the first time in the entire war.
The sound shattered mountains.
Thousands died instantly from the shockwave alone.
But the chains held.
The five Mage Lords poured their lives into the artifact until their bodies began breaking apart beneath the pressure.
And finally…
Baal stopped moving.
Immobilized.
Sealed alive.
The moment humanity succeeded, the Mage Queen moved immediately.
Because the war was still not over.
Above the battlefield, the massive crack connecting Aetherion to the Celestral realm still remained open. Endless enemies continued descending from the sky.
The Mage Queen ascended alone toward the Gate.
No one could follow her.
Her mana illuminated the heavens brighter than the sun itself as she activated the greatest spell in human history.
The sky screamed.
Reality distorted.
And slowly, the Gate began closing.
But the cost was absolute.
The Mage Queen used all of her magical power to maintain the seal permanently.
Her body became bound to the Gate itself.
Unable to move.
Unable to leave.
A living seal holding back the heavens.
And thus, the Great Catastrophe finally came to an end.
But the victory humanity achieved was incomplete.
The world had survived.
Barely.
And the scars left behind would never disappear.