1533 Misplaced Confidence
Date- 13 April 2321
Time- 9:52
Location- Southern Region, Southern Capital
Belphagor’s jaw dropped, unable to hide his astonishment. Witnessing Wyatt expertly maneuvering his time-rule-empowered chain whips was nothing short of awe-inspiring. The very feat of dodging those whips, infused with the enigmatic power of time rule itself, surpassed all expectations. Even the four mighty demigods, who had sacrificially merged their divinity to ascend closer to transcendence, found themselves only barely capable of evading the relentless onslaught of those time-rule-infused chain whips.
As Wyatt showcased the same extraordinary accomplishment, it became evident that he now embodied a strength that rivaled the collective might of the four divinities. His newfound prowess hinted at a power greater than that of an elite demigod let alone a regular one, making him a formidable force that could stand toe-to-toe with the power closer to transcendence.
This was no ordinary power wielded by a mere above-average demigod; instead, it emanated from one who had sensed the transcendence. The sheer magnitude of this newfound strength forced Belphagor to regard the strength displayed by Wyatt with utmost seriousness. It was evident that Wyatt had tapped into a realm beyond the conventional, harnessing forces that few could comprehend. The very thought of getting an easy win over Wyatt now seemed folly, as the gap between their abilities had drastically decreased. In the face of such unparalleled might, even Belphagor, a seasoned figure of power, could not help but acknowledge Wyatt’s current strength, regardless of its temporary nature.
“Kid, it appears you’ve struck a deal with a formidable patron this time. Who is it? Is it Baal? That insufferable bastard has been plotting against me for ages. It should be him, ” Belphagor’s disbelief grew as he was sure that Wyatt’s newfound power truly belonged to him or that one of his devilish adversaries had intervened to aid him out of spite.
In the realm of uncertainty, suspicion danced with curiosity, leaving Belphagor to ponder the true origin of Wyatt’s might. The sinister undercurrents of past grudges only served to fuel his doubts, wondering if an old nemesis had covertly lent their strength to the young demigod, aiming to settle the score through Wyatt’s newfound power.
In disbelief, Belphagor wrestled with two undeniable reasons that made him doubt Wyatt’s newfound might. Firstly, a mere eight days ago, Wyatt had been lingering within the humble ranks of the demon soldier realm, a stark contrast to the overwhelming strength he now wielded. The rapid ascent from insignificance to greatness was a riddle yet to be unraveled.
Secondly, and more perplexing still, was the peculiar amalgamation of curse energy interwoven within Wyatt’s soul energy signature. Such an eerie blend of energies suggested that Wyatt had ventured down a treacherous path and struck a sinister deal with an enigmatic patron. The veil of mystery surrounding his newfound strength was thick, making Belphagor keenly aware that Wyatt could not have borrowed his newfound strength without paying any cost or making any sacrifice.
“Why concern yourself with the origins of my newfound strength? It can be a new patron or something else, who cares? Instead, let our fists do the talking and see whose power reigns supreme,” Wyatt retorted playfully, he was wise enough to keep Belphegor in the dark about the source of his power. After all, some secrets were best kept shrouded in mystery, especially from your enemies and right in the middle of a decisive life-and-death battle.
“Listen up, you dumb fuck! Your soul belongs to me, and I won’t stand for you bartering away my possessions. Confess that you haven’t struck a deal with another devil to gain your newfound strength,” Belphagor roared as his frustration boiled over. The notion of Wyatt striking such a dangerous bargain with another devil did not sit well with him, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
Belphagor’s problem was not with Wyatt’s search for a new devil or whatever as a patron to draw strength from. What truly concerned him, however, was the nature of the pact Wyatt struck with this new patron in exchange for that strength. If another devil already held a claim on Wyatt’s soul, even if Belphagor killed him, he would be unable to harvest his soul, for it would journey to the realm of the devil with rightful ownership.
This would imply that the mighty demon Belphagor would essentially be offering Wyatt’s soul to another devil on a silver platter. This notion unsettled Belphagor greatly because killing Wyatt, extracting his soul, and subjecting it to eternal torment were essential to erasing his tarnished pride. That’s why he genuinely cared about the source of Wyatt’s strength, who provided it, and what price was to be paid.
“That’s it your’s up,” With a scowl etched across his face, Wyatt did not like being cussed at by the likes of Belphagor. In a burst of fury, he let out a fierce battle cry and charged at the demon with all the strength he could muster, his fists clenched and ready for the clash that was about to unfold.
As Wyatt’s charging form came hurtling towards him, Belphagor simply scoffed, his malevolent grin widening as he mockingly chanted, “Temporal Quick Sand.” The very fabric of time seemed to respond to his wicked incantation, weaving a treacherous trap to ensnare his impulsive adversary. Nearing Belphagor the ground beneath Wyatt’s feet rippled and shifted like a devious mirage, threatening to halt the flow of time itself.
As Wyatt unwittingly stepped into the treacherous embrace of Belphagor’s temporal quicksand, the demon’s confidence soared, and a wicked grin spread across his face. With calculated precision, he unleashed his twin chain whips imbued with time rule power, hurtling them toward Wyatt with the assurance of a master strategist. This very move had proven its might in the past, effectively slowing down and killing four formidable demigods who had dared to share their divinities to gain power almost near the realm of the transcendent. Belphagor relished the memory of that triumphant moment as he now sought to ensnare Wyatt in the same inescapable grasp.
Fate had a cruel twist in store for Belphagor, for it wasn’t Wyatt who stumbled into the temporal quicksand but the demon himself who, in his arrogance, wielded this skill against one immune to the time rule. With a swift and unexpected maneuver, Wyatt dodged the incoming chain whips effortlessly without being slowed by the temporal quicksand covering the vicinity, leaving Belphagor dumbfounded and vulnerable. In an instant, the tables turned, and a punishing fist met the devil’s face, delivering a satisfying blow as retribution for his misplaced confidence.
Occasionally missing content, please report errors in time.