Kasumigaoka Utaha was probably the first in the chat group to develop a real bond with Daemon.
Their connection began back in the Naruto World. A simple moment—a heroic rescue—had stirred something in her heart.
For Daemon, that black-stockinged girl with sharp eyes and quiet pride had left a deep impression.
She was beautiful. Independent. Clever in conversation. Driven to grow. Never content with just being "protected."
Even in his previous life, she had been a beloved anime heroine, someone with a cult following.
And now?
After eating a Devil Fruit and taking on the form of a pink-scaled dragon girl, her charm had elevated to a whole new dimension.
She ticked far too many boxes in Daemon's extensive XP list.
He genuinely liked her.
So watching Utaha be brutally killed—twelve times in a row—by Jibril?
Daemon, for once, felt something unpleasant coil in his chest.
"I may be stronger now," he muttered, a sigh slipping out,
"But I'm still just a man. A man who gets angry when his girl is hurt."
A golden sword shimmered into his hand—its radiance divine, its presence undeniable.
Jibril's eyes narrowed instantly. "That sword… the one even gods fear?"
She remembered its name. Everyone in the chat group did. And its terrifying power.
Without waiting for him to make the first move, she struck. The light blade in her hand tore toward Daemon with enough force to level a mountain.
But it was too late.
Daemon had already released the belt of Hercules—a legendary artifact crafted from the myth of Byrnndi World, the man who once crushed giants.
In this state, Daemon was absolute in both speed and strength.
"God Avoids—"
The golden slash cut through the world.
A single blow that ignored distance. A strike that shattered the concept of "dodging." Not even Jibril, who could circle the planet twenty times in a second, could evade it.
Yet the Winged Girl didn't panic.
She'd seen this attack in simulations. Deadly? Absolutely. But she was confident in her body—one of the strongest across all races.
Surely, she could withstand it.
She couldn't.
Blood sprayed in a torrential rain. Bone snapped. Organs were shredded.
Her unbreakable Flugel body—capable of surviving nuclear-level destruction—was sliced clean in half.
Her upper body tumbled from the sky, stunned and disbelieving.
"It hurts… It hurts!" she gasped. "But…?"
But she wasn't dead.
Not yet.
Gritting her teeth through the agony, Jibril popped a Senzu Bean into her mouth.
Gulp—
The wound sealed. Her body regenerated. Stockings and all.
Daemon, floating midair, raised an eyebrow.
"Even your clothes came back? Anime logic really is something else."
His eyes dipped—just for a second—toward her thick white legs.
She noticed.
But she said nothing.
"Mr. Daemon," Jibril asked cautiously, her smile strained, "how did you do that?"
He didn't hide it. "It's just this."
He tapped his temple gently.
Her breath caught when she met his eyes.
They were calm, golden, ancient—and terrifying.
The Mystic Eyes of Death Perception.
Eyes that saw the inevitable end of all things. Eyes that made even immortals bleed.
Daemon had always brushed them off as weak. More stylish than practical. But clearly, against Jibril, they were more than enough.
Her body—so durable, so strong—had been covered in dead lines and dead points.
If Daemon had struck just a little harder, he could've ended her life outright, without even giving her a chance to use a healing item.
"Even so... those fairy beans are busted," Daemon sighed. "To think they can even undo the damage from the Mystic Eyes. But I suppose that's expected from a world where people can destroy planets by sneezing."
"Thank you for the compliment," Jibril chuckled softly, though her voice carried a steel edge now.
"That's why, even knowing how powerful your Noble Phantasms are, I didn't hesitate to challenge you."
Then, eyes narrowing, she added, "But Mr. Daemon—while you may kill me once—I can revive hundreds of times. The question is, do you have enough stamina to kill me again and again?"
Thunder crackled in her palm. A lightning spear the size of a skyscraper took shape and launched at him.
Daemon didn't even blink. With a light swing of his blade—
Crack—
The thunder evaporated into harmless starlight.
Jibril stared, stunned. "Even that...?"
She bit her lip. Her wings pulsed violently behind her, gathering mana.
"This next one won't be so easy to brush aside!"
The air trembled as the mana condensed, warping space around her. Her hair flowed like fire, and her eyes burned with celestial resolve.
This wasn't a flashy technique.
It was raw, condensed destruction—focused into a single blade of light.
At just five percent power, it could part the sea like Moses.
At full force, it could erase a country from the map.
"Sky Strike—!!"
The heavens howled.
The energy blast tore toward Daemon with the fury of a world-ending storm.
From afar, even the chat group members watching couldn't help but tense up.
Surely this would do something.
Surely this would make him move.
Jibril, drained and panting, watched him with weary hope. Her hair was a mess, her clothes torn, her energy nearly spent.
But her eyes glowed with pride.
"If you're going to beat me, Mr. Daemon… it won't be without cost."
The sheer intensity of Jibril's blow was so overwhelming that even those watching the live broadcast through the chat group could feel it—like the weight of the heavens themselves pressing down.
Kasumigaoka Utaha: "Mr. Daemon.…"
Sakura Tohsaka: "Brother Daemon's going to be hit…!"
The two girls—one composed and elegant, the other young and fiery—stared at the screen with visible worry.
Even though they knew Daemon had never lost a battle, concern still gripped their hearts. That worry wasn't doubt. It was care—the raw emotion of truly loving someone.
But under the anxious gaze of the group, Daemon made no move to dodge. He didn't raise his sword. He didn't even flinch.
Esdeath: "What's he planning?"
Luo Hao: "Don't tell me... is that the treasure?"
Just as Luo Hao's words fell, the radiant blade of Jibril's attack descended like divine wrath.
BOOM!!
The sky shattered.
The explosion—equal to the power of a hundred thousand "Fat Man" nuclear bombs—detonated at 10,000 meters in the air.
The roar of it echoed across oceans, deafening millions. Clouds spanning hundreds of kilometers were blown away.
A giant hole appeared in the sea, annihilating marine life in a radius that defied comprehension.
And then... silence.
At the epicenter of the devastation, a figure stood tall—untouched.
Daemon sighed softly, as if the blast had merely been an inconvenience. With a casual wave of his hand, he dispersed the towering mushroom cloud as though swatting away dust.
"I suppose… if I didn't have a treasure specifically meant to counter that kind of attack, I'd have been in trouble."
Jibril—now reverted to her childlike form—trembled. Her wide, pale golden eyes stared in disbelief.
She had suspected he could take it. But to witness it—Daemon surviving a world-ending blast without a scratch—was madness.
In the chat group, chaos erupted.
Miyuki Uchiha: "WHAT!? That blast was insane, and not even his clothes were torn?!"
Yamamoto Mei: "That's why he didn't dodge… because he didn't need to."
Erina Nakiri: "That explosion… it could have wiped China off the map."
Esdeath: "How is he unharmed? Is it the power of a Noble Phantasm?"
Luo Hao: "Have you all forgotten? The Eye of Horus—the treasure Daemon acquired after defeating the Golden Lion in the One Piece world."
Saitama: "Eye of Horus? Is it strong?"
Yamamoto Mei: "The Eye of Horus represents the sky god's blessing. The right eye channels the sun. The left eye, the moon. While Daemon hasn't unlocked its divine-level powers yet, he still possesses the sky god's protection. That makes him immune to all ranged attacks."
Shinobu Kocho: "Immunity to ranged attacks!? That's incredible! He's practically a divine being!"
Saitama: "Ranged attacks, huh… Wonder if that includes my serious punch…"
Miyuki Uchiha: "Considering Jibril's attack was basically divine artillery, and it didn't scratch him... yeah, your punch probably counts."
Saitama: "Ohh.... He's good."
The Eye of Horus—an artifact so powerful it bordered on broken. Rarely did Daemon show it off, so even the long-time group members had nearly forgotten its existence. But now, it had proven its worth.
This Noble Phantasm wasn't just a shield—it was a divine decree: No ranged attack can harm its bearer.
Not arrows, not missiles, not even a comet collision could leave a mark.
If Daemon hadn't forged it himself using Hermes' hands after killing the Golden Lion, one might genuinely wonder if he was the god of the sky's own child.
But that wasn't all.
The Eye of Horus had a second ability—one that wouldn't bother most enemies... but for someone like Jibril?
It was a nightmare.
"No flight," Daemon said flatly.
With those two words, power surged from his form, distorting the atmosphere.
Jibril, having just recovered and returned to her adult form thanks to a fairy bean, suddenly plummeted. Her wings twitched uselessly. The skies rejected her.
"A-AAAHHH!"
She screamed, flailing as she dropped from the heavens. It was as if a bird had forgotten how to fly—or worse, been cursed to never fly again.
For a warrior born to rule the skies, it was despair incarnate.
And Daemon didn't let up.
"God Avoids!"
A slash of golden light tore across the sky like a judgment from the stars. It was fast. Final. Unavoidable.
In the next instant, the falling Jibril was cleaved in two—her body bisected mid-air, her scream cutting off in a flash of white.
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