Within the projection of the Nine Hells, flame-wreathed devils crawled forth from a burning world; devils snorting green smoke from their nostrils charged through rivers of magma; pale, ice-cold devils surged toward Lucian, Natasha, and the Demi-Lich with soul-piercing cold winds; succubi in the bronze castle let out blood-boiling moans… As the Lord of
After a brief moment of shock, the Demi-Lich Congers — now reduced to a single golden skull — opened his mouth and unleashed a piercing, shrill howl that resounded directly within the soul. Waves of vibration spread outward, and an aura of death rose into the air.
Within the range of the Demi-Lich's howl, the volcanoes, rocks, and castles remained unchanged, but suddenly, a high-ranking devil — three or meters tall and brandishing an enormous flaming sword — silently collapsed. Its black wings drooped lifelessly to the ground, its soul-flame extinguished completely. As though "infected" by the sight, devils toppled one after another like oats being harvested. In barely a second or two, the first surging wave of the devil legion was entirely dead.
"Sacrifice of Life." Having ascended, Congers found it far easier to cast legendary magic. With his demiplane, the Blighted Shadowlands, and his legendary class, Demi-Lich, serving as the foundation, the casting delay between these two "signature spells" was greatly reduced.
As Congers' voice fell, within the Nine Hells the erupting flames turned ashen white, the rocks lost their moisture, the stinking swamp dried and cracked, the bronze castle decayed and faded, and the deathly winds across the Silent Plain howled ever more fiercely. The devils that had just fallen rose one by one — skin withered and shriveled, muscles rotting away, needle-thin red lights leaping in their eye sockets. They turned and charged at the Lord of Hell, Mardimos.
The drained life force converged overhead, coalescing into foul, dim clouds through which black lightning writhed. Ashen-white raindrops cascaded down upon the Lord of Hell like a torrential downpour.
In that moment, Congers' demiplane seemed to overlap with the projection of the Nine Hells itself. Soul Prison Demons clambered to their feet; Death Giants hurled boulders; evil beast demons commanded legions of undead; dozens of putrid bone dragons wheeled through the sky above; and countless phantom shadows drifted ethereally between the real and the illusory, rendering defense nearly impossible.
An Undead Catastrophe!
Though none among the undead reached the legendary tier, their sheer numbers compensated. With the Lord of Hell tied down by Congers, they were still capable of inflicting harm upon a being of that magnitude.
By leveraging the projection of Heavenly Mountain to distort space, the projection of Mardimos that had descended into the material world had already reached the tier of a Grand Archanist — approaching the pinnacle of the legendary realm. Congers dared not let his guard down for even an instant.
This spectacle left both Lucian and Natasha deeply shaken. Congers had indeed been far too careless before — when facing two mere sixth- and seventh-circle children, he hadn't even used ten percent of his ability. If he had been this serious from the very start, then no matter how resourceful Lucian proved or how resolute and valiant Natasha was, they could have ambushed him once at most.
A layer of sulfur-like flame ignited around Mardimos's body, warding off the rain from the Blighted Shadowlands. The Lord of Hell spoke in a low voice:
"Life and death are mine to command."
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang — one undead creature after another burst apart like blossoming fireworks. Suddenly, eleven silver-white orbs of light appeared orbiting Congers. They too swelled and detonated in succession until the final two stabilized, blocking Mardimos's "Life and Death."
But now, Congers' Undead Catastrophe had been annihilated in its entirety!
Among the ruins, Natasha barely managed to drive Pale Justice into the ground before her, its blade holding back the encroaching assault of Sacrifice of Life and Life and Death. The sword trembled violently, humming with resonance, radiating a holy and steadfast radiance as it guarded a narrow perimeter around the two of them. It looked as though it might shatter at any moment.
In the minds of the Lord of Hell Mardimos and the Demi-Lich Congers, Lucian and Natasha — stripped of all combat capability — simply weren't worth noticing. The shockwaves from their clash alone would be enough to kill the pair. Had Pale Justice not been there — a sword that, against undead and devils alike, was the equivalent of a legendary weapon — Lucian and Natasha would have met exactly the fate the two ancient beings anticipated.
For the Demi-Lich Congers, if Lucian happened to have recovered his mental power and could use the ring once more, he wouldn't hesitate to form a temporary alliance against the Lord of Hell. There were no eternal friends, no eternal enemies — only eternal self-interest.
Mardimos, for his part, remained rather cautious, holding something in reserve. He worried that Lucian might use a mutual destruction gambit to release Eitna. However, possessing only enough power for a single strike and weakened by the material world, Eitna — in the eyes of a quasi-divine being who knew her inside and out and was fully prepared — actually held little value. She was merely a potential threat. His true objective was to devour the consciousness of the Mysterious Existence of the Netherworld and fuse the Netherworld with the Nine Hells. Otherwise, he would not have gone to such lengths to use the
"Death Elegy." Congers' incantation drifted like an ethereal, spectral song, and the sulfur flames on Mardimos's body seemed to reach the end of their existence, guttering out in quiet despair.
Pale Justice let out a series of mournful cries as it blocked the Death Elegy from passing through, but it appeared ready to collapse at any second.
Lucian signaled to Natasha to prepare to pull the sword free and flee, while he would channel the power of the Silver Moon Eitna to unleash a strike of mutual destruction.
But just then, the silver-white glow within his left hand suddenly surged and expanded. In an unhurried, almost leisurely manner, it consumed the residual fragments of the Mysterious Existence of the Netherworld in two or three effortless strokes, digesting them completely.
The speed, the elegant composure, the utterly inconceivable result — all of it left Lucian stunned. It was as though a light blazed to life within his mind, scattering every shadow and illuminating every detail he had previously overlooked in crystal clarity.
Why had the Mysterious Existence of the Netherworld lost control at such perfectly coincidental moments every single time?
Why had it obediently refrained from losing control when he was injured, when he was brewing potions, when he was writing papers?
Why had Eitna — so careful, so cautious, even killing the Lord of the Underworld only when no one was watching — been unable to control her "appetite" when facing Ashin? She wasn't a false god corrupted by divine nature…
Tracing things back even further, when they had slain the Silver Lord, Rhein had told Lucian that he had summoned Eitna and borrowed her power…