Daniel snapped his fingers.
One sound. One gesture.
The world obeyed.
The air ignited—not flame, not smoke—but Hellfire.
The real kind. The kind that didn't burn flesh—no, it burned hope. It ignited fear, love, memory—all of it reduced to cinders in a wave of red-black embers that howled like damned souls.
The entire battlefield warped. Stone turned to ash. The sky pulsed red.
Lucifer raised a blood barrier instantly, eyes narrowed. "Hellfire…"
Ruka gritted his teeth. "He's getting really serious right now."
Daniel lifted his arm—Hellfire coiled around it like a dragon waking from slumber. His grin widened, glowing eyes locking onto both of them. "You wanted a fight…"
He pointed.
"Burn."
The Hellfire surged forward like a sea—alive, screaming. It swallowed buildings, melted glass, and curved with unnatural precision, chasing its prey.
