Fifty kilometers away from the Chenghuang Temple.

  A massive black fortress built atop an active volcanic crater—"The Molten Core."

  This was the palace of the Abyss 1st Layer’s overlord, the "Balrog Lord" (an upgraded, fiery cousin of the Baron of Hell).

  At this moment, this palace—a symbol of absolute authority—was experiencing a Magnitude 10 earthquake.

  "ROAR——————!!!"

  The Balrog Lord’s furious roar carried a physical shockwave, shattering the obsidian pillars flanking his throne room. Standing ten meters tall, his body flowed with molten lava, and his wings spanned twenty meters. Every breath he took vented high-concentration sulfurous poison fire.

  He was about to explode with rage.

  Just moments ago, his territory’s sensory network detected a blindingly bright "Anomaly."

  A strategic highland that originally belonged to him had suddenly been forcibly occupied by a force that was domineering, holy, and reeked of industrial pollution. This force didn’t just dispel his demonic energy; it was actively expanding, acting like a high-powered air purifier, turning his scorched earth into... a pure land capable of growing grass?

  This was essentially someone pouring a bucket of bleach into his backyard and putting up a sign saying "No Spitting."

  Below the throne, a group of scout Gargoyles knelt, trembling so hard their wings wouldn't flutter.

  "R-Report... my Lord..." the lead Gargoyle stammered. "It's a... a green metal man..."

  "He... he took the highland... and built a strange house... with two lions that spit plasma fire..."

  "And... and..."

  "And WHAT?!" The Balrog Lord lashed out with a flame whip, instantly vaporizing the Gargoyle into ash.

  Another Gargoyle flattened itself against the floor, screeching in terror, "And he planted a flag! That’s a 'Slaughter Declaration'! He says this place belongs to him now!"

  "INSOLENCE!!!"

  The Balrog Lord’s dark red magma skin instantly turned blinding white—a sign that his rage had reached critical mass.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  "A mere human... dares to carve out territory in the Abyss 1st Layer?!"

  "What does he take ME for? What does he take my army of a million demons for? Air?!"

  The Balrog Lord stood up abruptly from his throne.

  He strode to the palace balcony, overlooking the endless demon barracks below.

  He raised his legendary artifact—the "Decapitation Greatsword." This blade had claimed the heads of countless challengers, wrapped in the wails of a thousand wraiths.

  "Sound the Horn of War!"

  "By my command! Mobilize the 1st Legion, the 2nd Legion, and the Heavy Mech Division!"

  "I want no prisoners! I want no survivors! I will personally tear that tin man to shreds, use his skull as a wine goblet, and use that broken temple to plug the volcano!"

  WOOOOO——————!!!

  The deep, terrifying sound of the war horn echoed across the entire Scorched Earth.

  The ground began to shake violently.

  The originally quiet wasteland boiled over.

  Countless demons erupted from the underground like ants.

  Tens of thousands of Imps, Hell Knights, Mancubi, and Cyber-Mancubi... they converged into a red torrent, surging majestically toward the golden-glowing Chenghuang Temple.

  In the sky, hundreds of Pain Elementals and Cacodemons blotted out the red moon, casting massive shadows.

  This was true total war mobilization.

  This was a storm of vengeance designed to crush any intruder into dust.

  Meanwhile, in front of the Chenghuang Temple.

  The Slayer sat on the threshold, holding an oily rag, carefully wiping down his Chainsaw.

  He heard the sky-shaking horn.

  He felt the ground trembling, shaking the stone lions at the gate.

  He saw the black clouds pressing down on the horizon—clouds made of dust and the silhouettes of countless demons.

  Daoist Singularity’s voice came over the temple’s PA system, laced with obvious panic:

  "Great Warrior... radar shows... hostile count exceeds 100.000."

  "And there are heavy unit signatures... those are siege-class behemoths."

  "Uhh... our temple's barrier is tough, but it can't withstand that many mouths chewing on it..."

  "How about... we retreat to the Netherworld and lay low? Where there's life, there's hope, right?"

  The Slayer stopped wiping his saw.

  He folded the oily rag neatly and put it back in his pocket.

  He stood up.

  He didn't look back at the so-called "Safe Zone," nor did he glance at the glowing portal home.

  He simply hooked the Chainsaw back onto his belt, and then reached behind his back to pull out the Chaingun, freshly fully loaded.

  He walked down the steps.

  Facing the overwhelming demon army. Facing the Balrog Lord looming in the clouds, radiating terrifying pressure.

  His steps were steady. Every footfall was solid.

  Click—Whirrrr.

  The Chaingun’s motor began to pre-spin, making that tooth-aching sound of metal grinding against metal.

  Territoriality vs. Invasion.

  The Balrog Lord thought this was a war for territory and dignity.

  But in the Slayer’s eyes, this was just the delivery guy finally arriving with the bulk order.

  100.000 demons?

  The Slayer’s helmet tilted forward slightly. The red dots on his HUD had multiplied until they overlapped into a sea of red.

  But this didn't make him feel pressure.

  On the contrary.

  That was 100.000 moving Health Packs.

  That was 100.000 walking Ammo Crates.

  This was the party he had been waiting for.

  Next Chapter: Slayer's Excitement.

  Seeing the army approach, the Slayer isn't scared—he's delighted. Finally, a decent fight.