The Witch Cult Attacks! Petelgeuse!

BOOOOM!!!

The heavy, solid roof of the palace shattered completely.

Countless chunks of stone and clouds of dust poured down from the sky.

"Hahahaha!"

"Love! This is the Witch's love!!"

A shrill, twisted laugh rang out.

High above,

a mass of foul-smelling, viscous Black Mud,

poured violently through the shattered opening like a waterfall.

The top of the great hall

collapsed beneath the impact of the Black Mud.

A small figure in a dark green clerical robe

was swept along in the filth.

Like a cannonball fired from its barrel,

he hurtled down from the depths of the void, screaming wildly.

The Special Grade Sin Archbishop, Petelgeuse,

had arrived.

"No! That's impossible!!"

"My grand formation... he smashed right through it!!"

Inside the hall, Miklotov was still kneeling with his head bowed.

At the thunderous crash,

his face turned deathly pale.

"It's the Witch Cult! That madman Petelgeuse is here!"

The old sage trembled violently, stricken with terror.

"My body... it's boiling!!"

Petelgeuse slammed into the marble floor amid the wreckage.

His short green hair hung messily over his face.

His wide eyes

were now

stretched open, threaded with feverish crimson veins.

His nails dug deep into his cheeks,

raking bloody furrows across them.

Without the slightest fluctuation of energy, his body began to bend grotesquely

backward,

folding into a horrifying right angle.

The sound of breaking bones

crackled through the silent hall.

"Aaah! You slothful wretches!!"

"You understand nothing of the Lord's love!!"

Off to the side, Serafall and Rias watched with disgust in their eyes.

"What a revolting creep. I don't even want to look at him."

"My army, heed my command!"

"Burn this place to ashes!!"

Petelgeuse screamed like a vengeful ghost.

Whoosh!

Whoosh!

Through the opening above the hall,

dozens of Witch Cultists in black