"KINTAAAAAR!"

The Deputy of the Stark-Soul Order immediately knew what Pherdanta wanted. She snorted, annoyed.

If it were up to her, she wouldn't have cared for it, but since she had made a non-verbal pact to take up arms with Pherdanta against the masked man, she did it anyway.

Her Genuine Divine energy churned. Only six seconds had passed since Nigerra erected her Territory. It pained Kintar to no end that it took that long for her to regain complete control of her faculties after being twisted by Rias' unusual hold over her Granted Star Armament.

But now… she was free. She could do as Pherdanta wanted with that god-awful scream of her name.

With a snap of the Mage's finger, she exercised her powers, fuelling them using the Genuine Divine energy igniting from within her.

At once, all the Stark Troops, Illyinni Wolverik and Shura Desmonn were warped away… outside Godspeed Highway!

Vali and Maxim weren't swept to safety, though. A thick coating of Genuine Divine energy lathered them, warding away the Primary assault function of the Territory.

Kintar was rather petty.

You were keen on fighting in an echelon of power far above you, so stay and fight, she would have said to the two ladies if she cared to.

…!

Nigerra recognised immediately how her targets were suddenly whisked away and pinpointed the cause. A neon pathway waded in front of her, leading up to where Kintar was floating. She raced along it at speeds that defied mortal logic and was soon behind the Realm Source Mage. Kintar had long sensed her approach, though. She turned just in time to block a mighty palm strike Nigerra aimed at her head.

The impact was atrocious. It was strong enough to make Nigerra's Territory shudder.

"Are you planning on running away too, Mage?"

Kintar snorted. She spared a second to analyse the shuddering, human-shaped image half-spilt from Nigerra. The Aspiring Immortal Shadow. "What's there to run away from here? You?"

A vein throbbed on Nigerra's forehead.

…

Meanwhile, Rias and Uyuniya were jumping over the winding pathways as they clashed, avoiding the racing living figures. Well, calling their bout a clash would have been an insult to combat. Uyuniya wasn't too keen on closing the distance between her and the masked man, especially given what he'd done to Kintar and Pherdanta earlier.

But the masked man didn't seem especially engaged when fighting with her. He didn't care to make her armour rebel against her. Uyuniya couldn't hold his attention anymore, it seemed, and for good reason.

Uyuniya herself had discovered the chilling factor behind why this was.

'Why isn't my Mastered Void Aspect not working on him?!'

She had tried it thrice now.

In its basic form, she could use it to take away the consciousness of her targets simply by desiring it, but the masked man wasn't affected at all.

Uyuniya would have tried the advanced version of it which she had enhanced further with Fundamental Barter (where she landed hits to permanently take away her opponent's abilities), but she prioritised keeping her distance – her safety.

As the masked man and his twisted deer head once again leaped off one of the shiny pathways, he suddenly turned behind him, a twinkling gleam in his Eye of Backfire.

Two figures were reflected in that eye.

In a blink, a longsword laced with greenish-black Undeath energy flickered into existence within his right hand and parried the sharp, murderous swing of a pink and gold sword striking down from above. At the same time, Rias raised his leg to block a heavy punch from a young man adorning a plain gold mask on his face. It would have been an effective pincer if the masked man was only slightly unaware.

"Three Void Users at the same time? Now this is Direction at its finest," said the masked man with a lick of excitement. Sparks flew between his newly summoned sword and Elita's Broodweiler.

"You're awfully durable, you little punk!" said Aurolio. He found it surprising that his fist, empowered by Void Clot was so ineffective against the masked man. How could he block it with just his bare body?

Actuass chortled and warped away from the Void Users. He was standing above Aimon in the next instant.

"Durable, you say? If only," said Rias.

Right then, a groan thundered from above. A short, ugly Carven was pointing down at him with a look of disdain. From its gnarled finger and its equally gnarled fingernail, a drop of black, boiling ichor fell towards the masked man's head and accelerated absurdly while morphing into the shape of an arrow.

This was the same attack that had killed the Drakkens in one shot.

Rias watched the attack approach and narrowed his eyes. 'That's no Andori. Is it a Parlous Nature?'

He would have trusted his Eye of Backfire to deflect this, but its power wasn't up to par with his own. It was merely borrowed and empowered to a point. Instead, the masked man had Aimon tilt upwards, open its mouth and devour the ichor whole. It was no harder than drinking a sip of water for the twisted deer head.

The short General snorted, but Ashema, who was under the protection of another one of his peers laughed.

"Isn't this just precious?" he said, and everyone – the Void Users and the Rias – looked up at him. Only he among the Generals could speak the Common Tongue. "While our masters do battle elsewhere, we gather here doing the same thing in their name. What's the significance? What do we hope to prove? At the end of the day, what happens here only matters if our superiors win, does it not? What is the nature of this war?"

No one seemed especially motivated to answer the Carven at first. But then Rias did.

"Master? Superior?" he said. "You're under the wrong impression if you consider anyone other Death to be your master. In the end, those who live are the victors. You wouldn't know anything about that, though, would you? You're marked for death, just like the rest of your fellow Carven."

Ashema burst out laughing but said no more. The other Generals glared at Rias. They didn't hear what he said, but they sensed his hostility and ridicule. Such things could be projected without a voice, after all.

Suddenly, the masked man became the centre of the conflict.

He relished in it, though.

This was only proof of what he was. His growing power. Only Liches were hated so universally, and that was precisely how they grew.