The capabilities of a Hobgoblin were a world apart from those of an Asura. After evolving, they were only capable of hardening their physical defenses with a marginal increase in strength quality. Even the strongest Hobgoblin today would be unable to stand one-on-one against a novice Mage; the spells a Mage could unleash were far too lethal for a creature whose strength was purely reactive. This stood in stark contrast to the Asuras, who transformed into entirely different existences upon evolution.

Each stage of evolution allowed an Asura to become many times stronger than before. Furthermore, upon reaching the "Peaks of the Evolutionary Mountain," each Asura would gain miraculous powers that allowed them to unleash strikes beyond all logic.

Hargo Dalem, the peak of the Astral Realm, is attained upon opening the Second Gate of Evolution. Asuras who reach this peak can manipulate biofield energy to control physical forces and friction. They can alter their physical forms and utilize incantations.

Hargo Dumiling, the peak of the Mind Realm, is attained upon opening the Fourth Gate of Evolution. Asuras who reach this peak can manifest their own worlds within the Pandava and project them into the physical reality. This ability is known as Vivid Dream. Within a Vivid Dream, an Asura is equivalent to a god, capable of bending the world to their whim.

The final peak is Hargo Dumilah, the summit of the Spiritual Realm, attained upon opening the Sixth Gate of Evolution. To date, no one has reached this peak. Moku himself is still fumbling in the dark, searching for its true power. Having just breached the Sixth Gate, he senses that those who reach this summit will be capable of defying Mages who have mastered the Laws.

If Moku succeeds in mastering the power of this peak, they will no longer need to fear even a Level 9 Constellation Mage. Every monster in Wilwatikta believes Moku will conquer this summit soon. That is why they must continue to fight—to buy Moku the time he needs to master his strength.

Diru was certain the Hobgoblins felt the same; that was why they did not flinch at being bait in the war. Their sacrifice would soon be repaid. They would all find joy after death, for there, the Heaven of The One awaited them.

Heavy, rhythmic footsteps shattered the silence of the courtyard. The distinct grinding of armor against armor made the aura around the ranks feel instantly suffocating.

Kuja walked slowly from the direction of the Command Hall.

The change in the Captain since Heles fell five months ago was something that made Diru hold his breath every time he saw him. Kuja no longer looked like a warrior who merely relied on raw strength. Being at the forefront of brutal battles, absorbing the energy of enemies, and constantly evolving had turned Kuja into a terrifying existence.

Kuja’s height now neared three meters. His heavy armor no longer looked like something covering his body, but rather a part of his own anatomy. An invisible pressure radiated from him, making the air ripple like a mirage in a desert. With every step Kuja took, the dust on the stone floor swept outward in a circular wave. His eyes no longer hinted at explosive rage; instead, they held the absolute serenity of a butcher who had seen so much death that life had lost its meaning.

Diru knew that Kuja had already mastered his Vivid Dream. Though he had never seen its form, Diru was certain it was immensely powerful. With the blood of Moku and Nevare flowing through his veins, it was impossible for someone like Kuja not to be special. A tiger does not give birth to a dog; a tiger will always sire a fierce predator, the master of the forest.

Kuja stopped directly in front of the ranks. He swept his gaze across them. When his eyes passed over the Hobgoblins, the creatures bowed, trembling. But when that gaze shifted to the Asura line and locked for a second with Diru’s, there was a flash of recognition. The recognition of a fellow predator.

Diru straightened his back and puffed out his chest. He did not want to appear weak before Kuja. Although they were of the same age, Kuja was a Second Generation Asura while Diru was Third. Therefore, Diru still had to address him as "Uncle." But on the battlefield, there is no brotherhood—only the strongest voice is heard. Once Diru mastered his Vivid Dream, he would leave Kuja’s unit and form his own. Then, perhaps, the two of them could once again speak as equals, just as they had in the past.

"Listen to me carefully," Kuja’s voice was not loud, yet its resonance vibrated in the chest of every creature in the courtyard. His voice carried absolute authority. "Beyond these gates is not the forest where you hunt deer. Out there, between the pillars of Progenitor and Bitter Maja, is the hell we created. The humans harbor a grudge against us. They want our blood to pay for their fallen friends. They will come with magic that rends the sky and swords that split the earth."

Kuja raised a hand encased in a spiked gauntlet, pointing toward the Hobgoblin ranks. "But they have no idea what is coming to greet them. We will bring them an army that loves its death as much as they love their lives! Every death of ours is a great honor, a return to the Heaven of The One. Every death of theirs is a pillar supporting our evolution!"

Kuja took a deep breath, drawing the surrounding air into his lungs.

"Evolution does not wait for the hesitant," Kuja continued, his voice rising, echoing off the defensive walls of Heles. "Today, in the new slaughterhouses, show them why Wilwatikta rules. Show them that behind the shadows of the demons, we are the true monsters they should fear!"

"Let’s battle together!" Kuja roared.

"In The One’s Heaven!" the entire army responded.

Their shout created a shockwave that made the stone pillars of Heles vibrate. Even the Hobgoblins, who had been trembling earlier, began to snarl, swept up in the battle aura emanating from Kuja.

"Open the gates!" Kuja commanded, turning his body toward the giant ironwood doors at the end of the courtyard.

Massive chains were pulled by creaking cranes. The main gate of Progenitor slowly parted, revealing a vast stretch of barren land extending toward the horizon. The sky above the New Battlefield was overcast, as if nature itself were reluctant to witness what would happen next. In the distance, the magical mist from battles that never truly ceased shimmered with lethal, enchanted colors.

Diru took a long breath. He stared toward the gate. Beyond it lay death, humans with bloodshot eyes seeking revenge, and the terrifying magic of species whose numbers and power far exceeded theirs. But for Diru, beyond that gate also lay the key to mastering his Vivid Dream. There lay the struggle and the Great Battle.

The savage Asura blood flowing in his veins hummed. This was not the first time Diru had plunged into battle, yet he never failed to feel this same sensation. A bloodlust that made the Dragon Prana in his body hiss with greed.

Kill.

Kill.

Kill everything that moves.

Slaughter them all.

The army began to march. The sound of dozens of monsters’ rhythmic footsteps echoed like a war drum beating the tempo of death. The smoke from Progenitor’s chimneys billowed upward, accompanying their departure.