Belial’s dark red eyes swept over Lucifer’s entire body as if he were inspecting an ant.
There wasn’t the slightest recognition of a fellow ‘Primal’ in that gaze; there was only naked contempt born from the disparity in their power.
Under his perception of a majestic Combat Class as high as 210,000, Lucifer’s magical fluctuations of 12,000 were as weak as a flickering candle in the wind, completely incomparable to his own power, which was like a molten volcano.
If this weakling had not also been created by the hand of the Demon King and bestowed with the title of ‘Primal’, Belial would not have even deigned to give him a second glance.
Such a lowly power—is he even worthy of standing alongside me?
This thought took root in Belial’s heart, causing every glance he cast at Lucifer to be filled with cold displeasure.
“A weakling like you is simply unworthy of standing by my side as the Demon King’s right-hand man.” Belial’s voice sounded like rough rocks grinding together, filled with undisguised disdain; every word was like a cold whip lashing out.
Lucifer’s pure black pupils constricted slightly, and a surge of anger flared up from the bottom of his heart, scorching his reason.
A Primordial Demon God?
Heh, in the other’s eyes, he was probably inferior to even a high-ranking servant!
As a transmigrator, to be so humiliated by a guy destined to be torn in half by the Demon King in the ‘original work’, a strong sense of humiliation almost broke through his composure.
But he suppressed that impulse with all his might.
His fingertips dug deep into his palms, and the slight sting helped him maintain a facade of calm.
He clearly perceived that the other’s vast, sea-like magic was merely radiating naturally, yet it already made the air around him feel as if it had solidified, bringing a physical pressure.
The gap—a chasm-like gap—was the most brutal reality at this moment.
“…Whether I am worthy or not, you will understand in the future.” Lucifer’s voice was exceptionally steady, and he didn’t even look at Belial again.
The black wings on his back flapped violently, stirring up a current of air.
Without hesitation, he turned and flew rapidly in the opposite direction of the Demon Palace, leaving Belial and his suffocating pressure behind.
Belial stood where he was, watching indifferently as Lucifer turned into a black speck and disappeared on the horizon.
He did not give chase, nor did he stop him.
His massive horse hooves impatiently pawed at the scorched ground beneath him.
I’ll leave you alive for now.
They were too close to the palace, and the Demon King’s attitude was not yet clear.
He weighed the situation calmly in his heart.
Killing Lucifer would be as easy as flipping his hand, but he was unwilling to act rashly before figuring out his creator’s true intentions.
“Tch, trash.”
Toward the direction Lucifer had left, Belial spat out another disdainful remark.
Then, he also spread his even larger black wings, which were flowing with magic patterns, and chose another direction, streaking toward the depths of the Demon Realm like a swift black shadow.
Lucifer kept flying until the massive magical aura belonging to Belial, which had been like a maggot on a bone, completely disappeared from the edge of his perception.
Only then did he suddenly descend from the sky, landing behind a jagged black rocky mountain.
The moment his feet touched the ground, his forced calm instantly collapsed.
He knelt on one knee, one hand propped against the cold rock, panting heavily.
Large beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead and slid down quickly, even wetting his black bangs and causing them to stick to his skin.
The clothes on his back had long been soaked with cold sweat, clinging to his spine.
His heart was pounding wildly in his chest, not because of the long-distance flight, but because of the near-physical pressure of death from before.
ha…
So this is…
the pressure of a 210,000 Combat Class…” His voice carried an uncontrollable slight tremor.
In front of the Demon King, what he felt was the vastness of looking up at the starry sky and his own insignificance; in front of Belial, what he felt was cold, pure, predator-like malice and the crushing weight of power.
The former was like a law of nature, while the latter was like a sharp blade held against his throat.
“Damn it…!”
As his breathing steadied slightly, the sense of humiliation and powerlessness that had almost drowned him turned once again into a raging fire of indignation and resentment, violently battering his mental defenses.
He smashed a fist hard against the nearby rock wall, and the hard black rock instantly exploded into a spiderweb of cracks.
To be looked down upon…
to be looked down upon like trash by that Belial, who would be torn in half in the future!
As a transmigrator, the advantage of knowing the plot’s direction seemed so laughable at this moment.
So what if he knew the future?
Without matching power, in this Demon Realm where the strong eat the weak, one couldn’t even get basic respect!
“Get stronger!
I must get stronger!
Get stronger faster!” The obsession grew wildly in his heart like a wildfire.
His thirst for power had never been as blazing as it was now, never as…
urgent!
Boom—!
As if responding to the strongest cry from the depths of his soul, an unprecedented vortex of magic suddenly erupted from the deepest part of his body!
It was different from the gift of the ‘Eye of Balor’, and different from the awakening of ‘Deconstruction of All Things’ and ‘Primal Circuit’ that originated from his innate characteristics.
The power that erupted this time was more…
personal, more in tune with his currently boiling emotions and will!
Pitch-black magic, like boiling ink, gushed out from every pore of his body.
It didn’t spread outward but instead formed a circle of magic swirling inward.
At the center of the vortex was Lucifer himself.
He felt a gate in the depths of his soul, which had been tightly closed, be violently forced open by this indomitable flood of will!
A clear piece of information, accompanied by a new magic circuit, was branded into his core of consciousness:
[Magic: Eternal Absorption]
[Effect: Can siphon and absorb the primal magic, life essence, or special energy imprints remaining in the corpses of creatures killed by oneself or dissipated in the environment.
The absorbed energy must be refined by oneself before it can be converted into pure power to strengthen one’s own magic and Physical Strength.]
“This is…
my own…
The Eye of Balor was a ‘tool’ bestowed by the Demon King at his creation.
Deconstruction of All Things and Primal Circuit were ‘characteristics’ produced by the combination of a transmigrator’s soul, the Demon King’s power, and the origin of the Demon Realm.
But this [Eternal Absorption]!
It was truly his, Lucifer’s, ‘own’ magic, ignited with his current strong will, indomitable conviction, and extreme thirst for power as fuel!
It was an extension of his will, a manifestation of his ambition!
“Heh…
Hehehe…
Hahaha!!!”
His long-suppressed laughter started low, gradually became high-pitched, and finally turned into a wild laugh that echoed among the desolate rocky mountains.
Lucifer stood up and wiped the cold sweat from his brow.
In his pure black eyes, the previous unease and humiliation had been completely replaced by a blazing light.
He looked toward the direction Belial had left, then seemed to look through the dark red sky of the Demon Realm toward that supreme throne, and even toward more distant and unknowable existences.
“Belial…” He whispered the name, with no more fear in his voice, only cold fighting spirit and climbing ambition.
“Enjoy your current sense of superiority.
Before long, I will trample you, along with your ridiculous arrogance, under my feet!”
No!
Not just Belial!
An even larger, more arrogant thought roared and hissed in his heart like a beast breaking free from its chains.
The Demon King?
The Supreme Deity?
Those existences standing at the peak of the world?
As long as I fight!
As long as I kill!
As long as I keep absorbing!
Turning the power of the defeated into my nourishment!
“One day, I will surpass you…
surpass everything!”
The black wings on Lucifer’s back unfolded with a bang, more solid and flamboyant than ever before.
He didn’t stay any longer.
With his wings flapping at full strength, his figure turned into a black meteor tearing through the sky, racing toward the deeper parts of the Demon Realm, toward the direction where more ‘prey’ might exist.
Under the dark red canopy, that resolute figure, carrying a new authority and burning ambition, plunged headlong into the boundless wilderness and dangers of the Demon Realm.
His path was destined to be paved by endless fighting and devouring.