I'm The Devil

The air around Devil's Peak warped, reality itself struggling to hold together under the sheer pressure of the battle. The five Outer horrors stood, their bodies shifting, their forms adapting, their eyes locked onto Lucifer. They had underestimated him once. They wouldn't do it again.

But it didn't matter.

Because Lucifer had decided.

They weren't leaving this place alive.

He exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. His crimson eyes burned with something dark, something dangerous. A quiet smirk played at his lips.

"This was fun," he said casually. "But it's time to clean up."

The five horrors didn't hesitate.

They moved.

All at once.

The ashen-skinned one was the fastest. His body flickered, splitting into a thousand images, golden sigils burning across his skin. Each afterimage launched an attack, a barrage of black spheres—each one a miniature black hole, erasing space itself.

Lucifer didn't move.

Not yet.

The spheres screamed toward him, devouring everything in their path. The air twisted, the ground crumbled, entire portions of the mountain were simply erased—gone, as if they had never existed.

And then—

Lucifer stepped.

Just one step.

And he was behind the ashen horror.

"Too slow."

His hand shot forward, gripping the creature's skull.

The horror's golden eyes widened.

BOOM.

Lucifer slammed him into the ground with enough force to shatter the entire peak beneath them. The rock crumbled, an explosion of debris filling the air. But Lucifer didn't stop. His fingers tightened.

Then—

CRACK.

The ashen-skinned horror's skull collapsed in his grip. His entire body convulsed. The golden markings across his skin flickered violently, trying to repair the damage, trying to hold onto existence.

It didn't work.

Lucifer ripped his head clean off.

The horror's body twitched—then stilled.

The golden sigils faded. His flesh dissolved. And then, like he was never there—he was gone.

One down.

Before the dust even settled, the horned woman lunged. Her claws elongated, stretching impossibly long, warping through space itself. Dozens, hundreds, thousands of slashes filled the battlefield, slicing apart everything in their reach.

Lucifer weaved through them like they weren't even there.

A flick of his wrist—

And he caught one of her claws between two fingers.

Her eyes widened.

Lucifer smirked. "Not bad. But—"

With a casual twist, he snapped the claw in half.

The horned woman shrieked—a horrible, unearthly sound that made the very air tremble. She tried to pull back, but Lucifer was already moving.

He punched her straight in the stomach.

BOOM.

Her body bent violently around his fist, her back snapping as she was launched into the sky.

Lucifer appeared above her instantly.

Before she could recover, he grabbed her by the throat.

"Let's see if you can scream without a head."

Then—

RIP.

Lucifer tore her head off with one clean motion.

Her body twitched. The black ooze that was her blood splattered across the sky. Her limbs spasmed for a second longer—

And then she was gone.

Two down.

The void-cloaked horror was already retreating. Its body shifted, unraveling into a swirling mass of blackness, trying to escape into the fabric of reality itself.

Lucifer sighed. "Coward."

He raised a hand—

And snapped his fingers.

BOOM.

A pulse of pure, raw destruction erupted from his body. The entire battlefield shook. The air itself ignited. The void horror screamed—its form flickering wildly, unable to stabilize, unable to escape.

Lucifer appeared beside it.

He reached into the mass of shadows—

And grabbed something.

The horror's true core. The thing that made it real.

Lucifer smirked. "Found you."

He squeezed.

And the void horror collapsed in on itself.

No explosion. No remains. Just… gone.

Three down.

The insect horror didn't flinch. It didn't hesitate. It charged, its limbs splitting into countless scything blades, each one vibrating at an impossible frequency, capable of cutting through existence itself.

Lucifer's smirk widened.

He let it come.

The horror attacked with everything it had. A blur of movement, a storm of slashes—each one enough to tear apart mountains, to shred through dimensions.

Lucifer didn't dodge.

He simply caught the first blade between his fingertips.

SNAP.

The blade shattered.

The horror recoiled, trying to pull back. But Lucifer moved faster.

He grabbed another limb. Snap.

Another. Snap.

Another. Snap.

One by one, he broke it apart.

The horror screeched, flailing, trying to escape, but Lucifer didn't let go. He stepped forward, his crimson eyes burning, his expression one of pure amusement.

"Too bad," he said. "You actually put up a fight."

Then he ripped the creature in half.

Four down.

The ribboned horror was shaking. Its form flickered violently, tendrils of darkness coiling around itself, trying to find a way out, trying to find a way to survive.

Lucifer sighed.

"Don't bother."

The horror lunged, its entire body unraveling into a massive storm of tendrils, spiraling around him, aiming to crush him, devour him, erase him.

Lucifer yawned.

Then, with a single swipe of his hand, he erased it.

Not just the attack.

Not just the horror.

Everything.

The entire concept of it.

It simply… stopped existing.

Gone.

Five down.

---

Silence

The battlefield was empty.

Lucifer stood alone, brushing off his sleeves, golden ichor still dripping from his fingertips. His crimson eyes gleamed, his smirk still lazy.

Behind him, the others watched in stunned silence.

Bariel. Asmodeus. Amiel. Moronuel.

They had seen war. They had seen destruction.

But this?

This was something else.

Lucifer turned to them, stretching. "Well," he said casually. "That was fun."

He cracked his neck, then glanced down at Satanael, who was still struggling to breathe.

"Now," Lucifer murmured, stepping closer.

"Where were we?"

The battlefield had fallen silent.

The five Outer Horrors were gone—nothing left of them but scattered remnants of their twisted forms, dissolving into the wind. The air still crackled with the echoes of their final screams, their essence erased by Lucifer's hand.

And now, only one remained.

Satanael.

Bloodied, broken, barely conscious. His golden blood stained the cracked ground beneath him, his once-proud wings shredded beyond repair. He gasped, struggling to move, but his body no longer obeyed him. Every nerve screamed in agony. Every breath was torture.

And yet, the worst was yet to come.

Lucifer stood over him, his crimson eyes gleaming with something cold. Something final.

Then—without a word—Lucifer grabbed him.

By the head.

A single, brutal motion. Fingers digging into his skull like a vice.

Satanael barely had time to react before he was lifted off the ground, his broken body dangling helplessly. His vision blurred, but through the haze of pain, he saw what Lucifer wanted him to see.

The gods had arrived.

Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands. Watching from the skies, from the shattered remains of the god plane, from across dimensions that had torn open to witness this war. Their divine auras burned against the darkened sky, illuminating the destruction below.

Nuwa, the great mother of the Pangu Realm, stood at the forefront, her expression unreadable. Beside her, the Jade Emperor—her son—watched in silence, his golden armor gleaming under the broken heavens. Other gods from distant pantheons stood beside them. Thor, his hammer resting at his side. Susanoo, arms crossed, his blade humming with restrained power. Anubis, his jackal eyes narrowed, observing.

And there, among them, Lucifer's own siblings.

Michael. Gabriel. Raphael. Uriel. Bariel. Asmodeus. Amiel. Moronuel.

The archangels.

Their faces were unreadable, but their presence alone spoke volumes.

Lucifer tightened his grip, tilting Satanael's head toward the gathered gods. His voice, smooth and unwavering, carried across the battlefield.

"This—" he lifted Satanael higher, letting his ruined body be seen by all "—is the fate of anyone who dares to act against me."

Silence.

No one spoke. No one dared to interrupt.

Lucifer's lips curled into something that barely resembled a smile. "Let's make this slow."

And then—

The pain began.

Lucifer's fingers burned. A searing heat, unlike anything Satanael had ever felt. It wasn't fire. It wasn't hellfire. It was something worse. Something deeper.

It was destruction.

Not just of the body. But of existence itself.

Satanael screamed. A raw, guttural sound that echoed through the battlefield. His golden skin cracked, splintering like shattered glass, light pouring from the fractures. His divine essence was being peeled away—erased piece by piece.

His arms convulsed, his fingers twitching as if trying to grab onto something—anything—but there was nothing. His legs kicked weakly, but he had no control left.

Lucifer watched him struggle, his eyes calm. Cold. Detached.

Then, he twisted.

SNAP.

Satanael's wings were the first to go. Not torn. Not cut. Just—gone. Reduced to nothing in an instant. The energy that once made them part of him simply vanished, leaving behind empty space where they used to be.

Satanael gasped, his body seizing. His screams turned ragged, broken. He tried to beg—tried to speak—but his voice failed him. His throat burned, his vision darkening.

Lucifer wasn't done.

His other hand moved, resting against Satanael's chest.

And then—pressure.

It wasn't physical. It was something deeper, something more horrifying. It was as if his very soul was being crushed.

Satanael's body convulsed violently. His golden blood bubbled, then boiled beneath his skin. His veins turned black, his divine circuits collapsing one by one.

He wasn't just dying.

He was being unmade.

The gods watching from above stood frozen. None of them spoke. None of them moved. Some turned their heads away—unable to watch.

But Lucifer's siblings didn't look away.

Michael's jaw was clenched. Gabriel's fists were tight. Raphael had a deep frown, his usual warmth absent. Uriel's eyes flickered with something—something distant.

And then—Lucifer squeezed.

A sound like cracking glass erupted from within Satanael's chest. His body bent inward, his ribs shattering beneath Lucifer's grip. His mouth opened, a silent scream trapped in his throat.

Lucifer leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You should've stayed in your place."

And with that—

He pulled.

There was no explosion. No dramatic final attack. No mercy.

Just erasure.

Satanael's form disintegrated, piece by piece, starting from his core. His divine essence crumbled, dissolving into golden dust that the wind carried away. His limbs faded, his screams lost to the void.

His eyes were the last to go. Wide, filled with fear, disbelief, regret—before they too vanished.

Then—

Nothing.

Satanael was gone.

Not dead. Not defeated. Gone.

Lucifer let his empty hand fall to his side. His crimson eyes turned back to the gods. The message had been sent.

No one spoke. No one dared to challenge him.

Lucifer's lips curled. "Anyone else?"

Silence.

Good.

He exhaled, stretching his arms lazily. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he turned away, stepping over the remnants of what was once his brother.

This war was over.

And Lucifer stood alone at the top.