1565 Sinister Brewing
Date- 13 April 2321
Time- 10:13
Location- Southern Region, Southern Capital
“What about the devil?” a voice filled with concern emerged from the gathering of demigods. The words were directed at Wyatt, the mysterious young lad, who had just commanded them to fall back to the safety of the royal palace grounds.
“I will handle him; you all need to leave now!” Wyatt’s voice rang out, strong and determined, as his eyes fixed on the devil. The wicked creature was gradually recovering from its daze, a direct result of its own failed attack, Annihilation Explosion.
“Team retreat!” came the authoritative order from the captain of team one. He looked at Wyatt, his eyes full of reluctant trust, before motioning for all the teams to follow his lead. It was a decision heavy with shame and disappointment for him and his fellow demigods. Their current condition left them weak and vulnerable; they were no longer worth reinforcement but potential obstacles in Wyatt’s battle against the devil.
The devil’s vampiric powers could turn them into mere nourishment, and the realization stung deep in their souls. Their pride and honor as the demigods of the Southern Region were momentarily set aside. With heavy hearts and heads held low, they obeyed Wyatt’s advice and decided to retreat to the royal palace grounds, leaving him to face the devil alone.
“Space Fold!” “Lightening Stride!” “Wind Tunnel!” The voices of the demigods resonated through the chaotic battlefield as they one by one activated their SSS-rank escape cards to speed their retreat to the safety of the timeless array formation that shielded the royal palace ground.
They were demigods, the might and pride of the Southern Region, yet in the face of a single, fearsome devil, they felt reduced to helplessness. The shame of this realization weighed on their hearts as they left the battlefield. They not only left behind the person they were originally supposed to protect but also their pride and honor. Even though today they get to keep their lives they were retreating to the royal palace grounds with heads bowed and hearts heavy with unspoken emotions.
“Sigh!” A tangible sigh of relief escaped Wyatt’s lips as he watched the demigods retreat, their powerful cards whisking them to safety without incident. The moment was brief, a small pause in the battle’s relentless rhythm, but it was enough for Wyatt to feel a weight lift from his chest. The dumb teammate had left.
Turning his attention back to the battlefield, Wyatt’s gaze found Belphegor, the devil who had been a relentless pain in his ass. Their eyes locked, revealing their hatred and enmity to the other. Belphegor’s eyes were dark and calculating, filled with a mixture of intrigue and frustration.
“This is the fourth time you have escaped death,” Belphegor spoke, his voice dripping with contempt but a hint of fear. “Each one of those attacks was capable of killing a devil, let alone these weak demigods. Yet, somehow you managed to survive all of these certain death moments without a single scratch to show for it.”
ραndαsΝοvεl ƈοm Belphegor’s words lingered in the air, heavy with meaning and accusation. They were more than a simple statement; they were a testament to an inconceivable reality that he could not dismiss. Wyatt’s survival had transcended luck; it was an audacious defiance of logic and expectation that seemed to hint at immortality.
But with his experience, having lived for a few millenniums, Belphegor knew better than to be entrapped by such illusions. The very notion of immortality was a mirage in the Myriad Realms where even the mightiest beings, like those of the World Wills, could crumble and fall at any moment, yet here was a man who stood unscathed where others would have perished.
Belphegor’s mind churned with questions and possibilities, probing the enigma that was behind Wyatt’s numerous escapes from certain death. Was some hidden power protecting him? Whatever it was, it did not alter the fact that everything had a breaking point, everything had an end. Even the illusion of immortality could be shattered, and Belphegor’s gaze promised that he would be the one to do it.
“Since I cannot kill you regardless of physical and rule attacks–” Belphegor’s voice dripped with arrogance and dark intrigue, but his words were cut short.
Behind Wyatt, the eleventh floating head and pair of arms shimmered into existence, marking the complete manifestation of his gigamite physique. In a heartbeat, he transformed, his body swelling and contorting until he stood as a 150-meter-tall Elder Viltronian Titan. The transformation was breathtaking as his flesh and energy meld to culminate in a colossal figure with the elder giant’s might.
Without hesitation, Wyatt’s Elder Viltronian Titan form lunged forward, fist clenched and muscles rippling, to deliver a punch aimed straight at Belphegor’s face. The attack was swift and decisive, a reflection of Wyatt’s urgency to act.
His Soul Pupils had detected something ominous. A dark and creepy type of soul energy had begun to gather in the body of the 150-meter-tall Worldhog, an energy imbued with an attribute that closely resembled death itself. This new sensation was alarming and unnatural, surpassing even the chilling aura of the devil’s most devastating power, the Annihilation rule power.
A cold shiver ran down Wyatt’s spine just sensing the soul energy that was rapidly gathering in the devil’s body. Though the exact nature of Belphegor’s scheme remained unclear, the imminent danger was palpable to Wyatt. Time was of the essence, and every moment’s delay could spell disaster.
With his punch, Wyatt was not merely attacking; he was attempting to halt the sinister plot that the devil was brewing. Wyatt acted, driven by a desperate hope to stop Belphegor before it was too late.
Wyatt landed a quick punch to Belphegor’s face, but the devil barely staggered back a few steps before sneering, “Weak. You remind me of cockroaches. They’re weak creatures but hard to kill.” Once Belphegor had regained his peak strength, Wyatt’s physical attacks seemed to lose their power, no longer posing a threat to him even under the reinforcement of the SSS-rank Cursed Blood Rejuvenation.