“Aa-ah th-this?” The head of the Silvester family stammered, his legs quaking as he slowly rose to his feet.
He surveyed the scene around him, horrified to find that all the guards who had entered had been reduced to grotesque lumps of flesh, their bones having vanished completely.
They now suffocated under their own weight, their organs grotesquely spilling from their mouths.
It was a nightmarish sight, as if the very essence of their beings had been siphoned away, leaving only the horrors of their forms behind.
“Ronen, didn’t you warn your father to behave?” The woman remarked casually, her demeanor unfazed as she sat serenely with her hands resting on her folded knees.
She cast a sidelong glance at Ronen, who appeared utterly unprepared for the chaos unfolding around them.
He wore a blank expression, his gaze drifting between the remnants of his father’s guards and the unnerving presence of the woman.
‘What is she doing here?’ Ronen thought, his mind racing as he shifted his attention from Drishti, and finally back to his father.
Memories of their past encounters flooded his mind—particularly the confusion and turmoil that had ensued when this very woman had visited the Sword Valley before his marriage to Laila.
It all spiraled out of control when she had expressed an unexpected interest in one of the disciples, a girl named Regina.
When her master had denied her request, the woman’s wrath had taken hold, and she had attacked Regina’s master in retaliation.
Ronen’s instincts screamed at him; ‘No, my family might be in danger.’
He weighed the risks and benefits of confronting this woman.
He was acutely aware of her formidable strength, understanding that defeating her would be a nearly impossible task.
Her peculiar ability of absolute authority complicated matters further—whatever she commanded, regardless of others’ strength, became a reality.
The thought of engaging her actively made his heart race with dread.
Yet, he was determined that should she make an aggressive move, he would react—just not in a way that would provoke her first.
Otherwise, there might not be a Heindal continent left to protect.
He remained observant and calm.
“Y-you…I apologize,” The old man stammered as he glanced at the woman, his jaw tightening in frustration. But as he noticed his son’s tense demeanor, he understood that acting out at this moment would be unwise, especially considering the death of so many guards.
It was clear that their lives held no value to the woman before him.
Yet, his son steadfastly remained motionless, a clear indication that this woman was far stronger than he had initially anticipated.
In a gesture of submission, he slightly bowed as he apologized, gripping his cane tightly.
“Whatever. Which demon did you intend to summon?” Drishti cut through the formalities, dismissing the old man’s defenses and getting straight to the point.
She already had a strong suspicion about the demon they were trying to bring forth, but she felt it necessary to confirm.
The old man flinched at her words, clenching the top of his cane in both hands, his eyes cast downwards.
“We were trying to summon the Archdemon, the strongest of all, Belial Nocturnal,” He finally revealed, voicing the identity of the mightiest demon they sought to invoke.
The name echoed through the annals of Silvester family history, their records long erased; yet through painstaking effort, they had managed to uncover the ritual necessary for summoning the demon.
“…..”
Belial cast a blank look at the old man.
He blinked, considering his reputation among mortals who trembled at his very presence. ‘Keke, I ab the debon lord!’
“Pfft, hahaha, Archdemon? Strongest?” The laughter burst forth from Drishti uncontrollably.
Folding her arms, she rested them on her chest, utterly amused by the old man’s words, which reflected a significant misunderstanding of the situation.
Though it could hardly be labeled a misunderstanding in light of Belial’s genuine strength that indeed justified the title of Archdemon, it was primarily the fear of mortals—and the ignorance of lower-level beings—who had no comprehension of the true scale of power that existed.
For those mortals who knew the summoning ritual for Belial, it was easy to perform, often at the cost of numerous lives.
This had led to a common belief that Belial was the strongest demon.
In reality, they simply lacked the means to summon any higher-ranking demons, favoring this particular one for its relative ease and convenience.
“….D-did I crack a joke?” The old man gritted his teeth, closing his eyes in irritation as visible veins pulsed across his face.
Anger and frustration coursed through him at the sight of this woman finding humor in what he had just unveiled—the greatest secret of the Silvester family.
Perhaps she was unaware of the true power of Archdemon Belial, a being responsible for the massacre of millions, capable of wiping out every life on the continent.
“No, not at all. Hey, kid,” Drishti said with a playful tone.”I’ll leave this matter to you. Enjoy your encounter with your new apostle! Hahaha!”
She couldn’t help but chuckle as she wiped nonexistent tears from her eyes.
With a casual turn, she moved toward the door, stepping over the lifeless bodies of soldiers who had suffocated to death.
Following closely behind her was Ronen, having sensed that the boy was, in fact, the same demon Belial his father had mentioned.
While Ronen possessed the strength to defeat the demon, he recognized the more immediate threat was Drishti.
Any aggression toward her companion could incite her wrath, prompting Ronen to prioritize patience and wait for the Sword Maiden to arrive.
“….what the?”, Old man remained standing, as he looked towards the swaying back of that woman, followed by Ronen.
Old man, as both of them left the room, turned his eyes towards the child, who stretched his body as he walked towards him.
“Do I need to babysit a child—SWOOSH” Duke Silvester’s words hung mid-air as a torrent of dark energy erupted from the boy before him.
All around, the lifeless corpses strewn about began to rise, suspended by some invisible, malevolent force. Flesh, blood, and bone twisted grotesquely, swirling into a storm that circled the boy, who was now lifting into the air.
“BEHOLD HUBAN!” The child’s face contorted in an unnatural grimace as his transformation took hold. A single horn pushed its way through his forehead, tearing skin and oozing dark blood that ran down in thick rivulets.
His eyes, once wide with innocence, shifted, dark streaks bleeding outward until the whites were completely consumed by pitch black.
His limbs elongated, each bone cracking with a sickening echo, his skin peeling back in places as razor-sharp claws replaced once small, delicate fingers.
His mouth widened unnaturally, teeth twisting into jagged points that glinted in the dim light.
Slowly, a deep red hue overtook his skin, raw and pulsing, as if his very flesh had been flayed open.
The stench of sulfur and blood filled the air as the transformation completed, leaving not a trace of the child he once was.
“Aa-h, D-demon Lord Belial!?” Duke Silvester stared, horror-stricken, as the thing in front of him hovered, its face twisted with an unholy smile, dripping malice.
“TELL HUBAN, WHAT YOU DESIRE…..
