Chapter 66 to Chapter 77
The heavy rain outside didn't dampen the mood inside the RV. The three girls huddled close to Wanda, playfully clinging to her as they chatted and played games. Inevitably, their conversation shifted toward Pietro and Sumarokov, their intentions pretty clear. Wanda didn't mind sharing some details—like their personalities and interests—which made the girls even more excited.
Meanwhile, Adam, the boy wearing glasses, felt a twinge of jealousy. Why were those two guys getting all the attention? Was it just because they were taller, more muscular, and better-looking? He huffed to himself, "A man's greatest asset is his depth of character!"
Suddenly, a loud thunderclap split the sky, its explosive roar echoing like a warning drum. The three girls shuddered, caught off guard. For a moment, they even considered using their "fear" as an excuse to throw themselves into the arms of Pietro or Sumarokov, imagining a romantic scenario.
But then, the RV's interior lights began flickering erratically, as if something was wrong with the wiring. An odd, chilly breeze swept through the space, sending a shiver down everyone's spine.
Sylvia, the blonde girl who loved watching horror movies but was easily scared, almost screamed in fright. Her face showed genuine fear as she clung tightly to Wanda.
Sensing the girl's fear, Wanda, like a protective older sister, wrapped her arms around Sylvia and whispered soothing words, her eyes briefly glowing with a soft red light.
Pietro and Sumarokov exchanged glances, their gazes sharpening as they turned to the flickering lights, both on high alert.
As Jeff drove the RV, he suddenly gasped in surprise, and the vehicle started slowing down.
"Hey, why is there someone standing in the middle of the road?"
The moment Jeff spoke, a cold glint flashed in the eyes of Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov. Instantly alert, the three of them stood up and moved to the front of the RV. Through the windshield and the glare of the high beams, they saw what Jeff was talking about.
In the middle of the road stood an old man, dressed in a black suit coat, with a round hat on his head, white gloves, and holding a cane in one hand and a black umbrella in the other. He looked like an old-fashioned aristocrat.
There didn't seem to be anything particularly threatening about him, yet his presence in the middle of this deserted highway, during a storm, felt deeply unsettling.
The others in the RV came forward to get a better look. Sylvia, wide-eyed, asked in surprise, "What's an old man doing out here? Didn't we read online that this road is practically abandoned?"
"Maybe his vehicle broke down just like Wanda?," one of the other girls suggested.
Being naturally friendly and optimistic, the students quickly accepted this explanation. After all, hadn't they just stopped to help Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov? It didn't seem that strange.
Jeff was even about to roll down the window to call out to the man, but Sumarokov quickly placed a firm hand on his shoulder. When Jeff turned to him, confused, Sumarokov spoke with a serious tone.
"Listen, stay inside the car. Don't go out there. If anything feels off, leave immediately."
"Wait—" Jeff began to ask something, but before he could finish, Sumarokov, Pietro, and Wanda had already opened the door and stepped out into the pouring rain, leaving the group of students puzzled.
The downpour soaked the road as Wanda walked in the middle, flanked by Pietro and Sumarokov, each holding an umbrella. Their shoes splashed through the muddy water, creating small ripples as they approached the old man standing in the middle of the road.
Inside the RV, Jeff and the others huddled around the front, watching through the high beams. The sight of Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov moving toward the old man stirred an odd feeling among them. There was something mysterious about their backs—something that sent a shiver down their spines.
The trio stopped about five meters from the old man, who looked at them with a gentle, wrinkled face. The rain drummed on the umbrellas, but his gaze remained calm.
"Such an interesting soul," the old man said, his voice full of intrigue. "I didn't expect to meet a host of chaos magic here... fascinating."
At his words, Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov's eyes narrowed. Chaos magic—he had recognized it instantly.
Their expressions grew serious. They silently extended their heightened senses, using their haki, probing the old man's presence. What they felt was unlike anything they had encountered before—an aura that felt otherworldly, as if it existed in a different dimension, detached from the world around them.
But there was something inexplicably terrifying about him.
"Who are you?" Wanda asked, her voice soft, nearly drowned out by the rain. Yet the old man heard her clearly. He responded calmly, unhurriedly, "Someone who can fulfill people's deepest wishes."
His voice took on a bewitching tone. "You all have tragic pasts, don't you? Would you like to make a deal with me? If you sign a contract, I can give you anything you desire—anything, including reuniting you with your family."
The old man's words carried a dangerous allure. Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov all reacted immediately. His offer was tempting. The thought of seeing their parents again, of undoing the pain they had lived through, stirred something deep within them.
Yet, over the years, they had grown stronger. They had learned to move forward despite their traumas. And now, their senses screamed that something was wrong with the old man's proposal. There was a raw malice emanating from him—undisguised and pure.
Wanda's gaze hardened. As much as she longed to see her parents again, the malevolent presence before them couldn't be trusted.
This was no ordinary negotiation. It was a fight they couldn't avoid.
In an instant, Pietro's figure blurred, vanishing before reappearing with his weapon in hand. Sumarokov's golden swords were already strapped to his back. The old man's once-calm expression darkened as he saw how quickly they prepared for battle.
Sumarokov cracked his neck, a wild grin spreading across his face. "Whatever you are, drop the act. It is impossible for you to hide the malice in your eyes."
He inhaled deeply, drawing in the heavy, damp air. "Let's get this over with."
With a powerful kick, the ground beneath Sumarokov shattered, sending water splashing in all directions as he charged at the old man with blinding speed.
…
"We might be able to pass."
In the main hall of Sky Blade Immortal Palace, Leon and Keisha were in the middle of a conversation when Keisha suddenly paused. Turning to look at Leon, she spoke softly, "Captain Leon, according to Sky Blade's real-time monitoring, Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov have encountered a powerful, unknown enemy. Do you want to use the micro-wormhole technology?"
"Is it urgent?"
"They're in the middle of a battle," Keisha replied, her eyes gleaming with divine light.
In an instant, the entire hall transformed. What was once a radiant and holy space became dark, as heavy rain poured from the sky, drenching the surroundings. The ground turned muddy, filled with water, and on a desolate road rarely trodden by anyone, an extraordinary battle raged.
On this muddy road, an RV was parked, towing a pickup truck. About a hundred meters ahead, illuminated by high beams, a strong young man wearing a brown coat, with two golden swords on his back, was locked in combat with an old man, moving at a speed too fast for the normal human eye to follow.
Leon and Keisha stood near the RV, observing the fight. Not far from Leon, Wanda and Pietro watched on.
Leon gave Keisha a thumbs-up, acknowledging her use of micro-wormhole transport technology paired with mirror dimension space magic. In such a brief time, she had recorded, analyzed, and applied the needed tools to transport them. The Sky Blade truly operated at a godly level.
Within the mirror dimension, which isolated them from the real world but allowed them to witness its events, Leon watched Sumarokov battle the old man. He raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Keisha, can you identify the opponent?"
"There's an unknown force blocking full recognition," Keisha said. "But what I can tell is that the enemy isn't fully of this world—it's just a projection, a fragment of the soul from some unknown entity."
"Then I can pretty much guess where this old guy came from," Leon muttered. Keisha's words confirmed the identity of the old man, though Leon hadn't expected Wanda and the others to cross paths with him.
Speaking of Wanda, she seemed to sense something. She suddenly turned her head, staring intently at the side of the RV where Leon and Keisha stood.
"Are there enemies?" Pietro, noticing Wanda's actions, tensed up, ready for a fight.
Wanda's eyes glowed red, like fiery gems. After a moment of intense focus, she slowly shook her head and turned back. "Maybe it's just my imagination," she said softly.
Even though she dismissed it, she exchanged a glance with Pietro, who remained on high alert.
Watching this unfold, Leon nodded in approval. Wanda, naturally gifted in Chaos Magic, had an exceptional mental fortitude. After learning the breathing techniques, practicing Observation Haki and Armament Haki, and receiving the improved serum, her abilities had surpassed most others. She must have sensed something, but couldn't pinpoint it.
If it had been anyone else, their attention would have wavered, but Wanda maintained her vigilance. Leon's teachings had clearly been ingrained deeply in both Wanda and Pietro: vigilance always comes first.
No matter where you are, it's essential to stay alert to anything unusual or out of place.
"Wait, what was that? Did I see it wrong?"
"Unbelievable! The speed and power—they were moving so fast, I couldn't even see clearly. And that old man, who is he?"
"Wow, is Sumarokov a mutant? That's incredible."
Inside the RV, the passengers had their faces pressed against the windshield or were leaning out the side windows, eyes wide with awe. They were whispering excitedly about the superhuman battle unfolding before them, with no hint of fear or unease.
Leon glanced at them with amusement.
Boom!
A deafening roar shook the ground. Sumarokov's right arm had completely transformed into jet-black metal, and he unleashed a devastating punch. The old man blocked it with his staff, and sparks flew as metal clashed with wood. The raw force of the impact released a shockwave of Haki that rippled through the air, creating a vacuum-like space within a ten-meter radius.
The road beneath them fractured, spiderweb cracks splitting the surface. Rainwater quickly seeped into the crevices, filling them.
Despite blocking a punch that carried the force of dozens, if not hundreds, of tons, the old man's face remained calm and composed.
The old man stared at Sumarokov with undisguised greed in his eyes. "Such an interesting power... your soul is so delicious, I can hardly resist it."
Sumarokov growled in response, his voice low and fierce. "If you want my soul, you'll have to go to hell first." With a surge of strength, he flexed the muscles in his right hand and, using his unique power, unleashed another devastating punch.
Boom!
The impact was so powerful that the old man nearly lost his grip on his staff. Although he managed to hold on, the force still sent him hurtling back hundreds of meters. Tumbling through the air, an unseen energy halted his fall, and he hovered mid-air, suspended by an inexplicable force. The sudden stop created a powerful shockwave that blew away the pouring rain.
"Such fascinating strength," the old man sneered, his excitement growing. "You make me crave your soul even more."
From his vantage point above, the old man gazed down at Sumarokov, Wanda, and Pietro, who were staring up at him. His lips curled into a wicked smile as he spread his arms wide.
Rumble!
The sky erupted with thunder, and a terrifying aura surged from the old man. The darkness of the storm and the relentless rain seemed to mirror the oppressive energy radiating from him. The air itself felt heavy with despair and suffocation, as though the weight of the world was pressing down on them. His eyes transformed, no longer human, but resembling the demonic gaze of a being from the depths of hell.
Even the rain seemed affected by the sinister force he exuded.
"Did I see that right?" muttered Jeff, sitting uneasily in the driver's seat of the RV. The overwhelming pressure made him feel physically ill. Realizing just how close they were to the monstrous old man and Sumarokov, Jeff made a quick decision, slamming his foot on the accelerator and reversing the RV.
The movement went unnoticed by Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov, all of whom were fixated on the maniacally grinning old man before them. Only Leon and Keisha noticed it.
…
"This guy doesn't seem human," Wanda murmured, eyes glowing with a brighter red as she studied the old man amid the violent wind and rain.
She turned decisively to Pietro. "Kill him. He's not ordinary."
In Leon's family, there was no room for chivalry or mercy toward enemies. If someone posed a threat, no matter how worthy of respect, they had to die. If a group attack was the best option, they would take it—unless the enemy was too weak to warrant it.
As soon as Wanda spoke, she raised her hands.
Boom!
A surge of red energy exploded in every direction, whipping her hair and coat around her. She was enveloped in the crimson power of chaotic magic, radiating an almost divine presence. Like a scarlet goddess, she extended her hand toward the old man in the sky and clenched her fist.
Instantly, the chaotic energy coalesced into two massive scarlet hands. Wanda knew from experience that once those hands closed around their target, escape was nearly impossible. She was confident the old man, no matter who he was, would meet the same fate.
The old man sensed the danger. Despite his earlier arrogance, his cunning nature kept him wary. After all, this wasn't his real body, and he was operating at less than 1% of his true strength. Chaos magic posed a genuine threat.
Whoosh!
Just as the two scarlet hands lunged toward him, the old man vanished. He reappeared a hundred meters away, behind Sumarokov, his gloved hand reaching out like a devil's claw toward Sumarokov's neck.
But Sumarokov had already activated his Observation Haki. The moment the old man disappeared, Sumarokov sensed his move. In an instant, he twisted his waist, launching a powerful punch backward.
His black-gold fist collided hard with the old man's hand, sparks flying from the impact.
Boom!!
The unimaginable force from the punch made the old man's expression shift, but he still managed to withstand it. The clash between their powers sent shockwaves outward, centering on them as the air erupted in a violent blast. The road beneath their feet cracked and caved in, sending a spray of gravel and rainwater flying in all directions.
Although the old man had expected Sumarokov to be strong, this level of power exceeded even his previous expectations. With his vast experience, he quickly identified the technique Sumarokov used to generate such force and the strange, steel-like energy coursing through his arms. His eyes gleamed like a devil's, his pupils shrinking, and an unsettling grin crept onto his face. He leaned forward slightly, the pressure around him intensifying.
"Such an intriguing power," the old man said, his voice dripping with mock curiosity. "And reactions beyond mere instinct. I'm curious—care to share how you learned this?"
Sumarokov's gaze sharpened, and he let out a cold snort. "Maybe I'll tell you after I crush your skull and sit back enjoying a fruit salad."
Without hesitation, Sumarokov shifted his weight, stepping back with his right leg and removing the power from his right fist. In an explosive burst of strength, he launched another devastating blow, aiming straight for the old man's head.
The old man, with agility that belied his age, dodged by leaning back just in time. With a swift counter, he swung his staff, aiming to strike Sumarokov's cheek.
Sumarokov blocked it easily, and the two combatants immediately became locked in a brutal, close-quarters fight.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each punch and kick from the two combatants, both of whom possessed power far beyond human capability, was explosive. In the span of just two seconds, they collided with each other hundreds of times at speeds that were nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye.
From hundreds of meters away, one could barely make out two figures darting back and forth on the road, moving at impossible speeds. Shockwaves exploded from their clashes, sending rippling circles of air that tore up the ground in a radius of thousands of meters. Pits of all sizes littered the terrain.
Jeff and the group in the RV, now retreating to a safe distance, watched through high-precision night vision binoculars. Their expressions were frozen in disbelief, as if they were trapped in a surreal dream.
"Damn, what am I seeing?" Jeff cried out, clutching his head in horror. "That old guy just flipped over ten times in mid-air like a stuntman and jumped more than ten meters in one leap. Is this even real?"
He shook his head. "And Sumarokov—he's beating the crap out of that old man! Why did I invite him into the car? He's dangerous!"
"Come on, Jeff, quit joking. Let's figure out who's on the right side here," said Adam Chubbock, another boy in the RV, rolling his eyes. He stroked his chin, feigning deep thought. "We don't know who that old guy is, but based on how Wanda's been acting, I'm pretty sure she's on the good side."
"So that means the old man is the bad guy," Adam concluded.
"OMG," groaned Siri, a girl in the group, covering her face at their oversimplified reasoning. "You call that an analysis?"
Unexpectedly, Lena and Sylvia nodded in agreement. "It makes sense to me," Lena said. "Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov have been kind and gentle with us this whole time. If they can get along with us, they can't be bad people."
Jeff shrugged. "So now that we know who's good and bad, are we supposed to pull out the gun I got from my uncle and shoot the old man?"
Adam shook his head. "Trust me, that won't work. Even if you manage to hit him, that guy is probably a hundred times stronger than a rhino. His skin's gotta be impenetrable."
"Great," Jeff said, throwing up his hands. "Are we seriously debating whether we can penetrate his skin? I say we back off another 1000 meters!"
"My dear Mr. Jeff," Lena interrupted, "you're sitting in the driver's seat."
Jeff snapped his fingers. "That's why I respect you, Lena."
"Thanks, but what we need now is for you to actually drive. If we could back off half the planet, I'd be all for it!" she urged.
"Alright, alright, I'm on it," Jeff grumbled as he started reversing the RV again.
…
Hearing the playful chatter from inside the RV, Leon smirked. "These kids are really optimistic."
Keisha began to explain, "Based on human genetics and personality analysis—" but Leon quickly cut her off. "Okay, enough. The old guy's losing his patience."
Whoosh!
Golden arcs sliced through the night as black tattered fabric fluttered in the wind. The old man, standing at the edge of the road, frowned as he reached up and removed his black round hat—now sliced in half. He let the ruined hat fall to the ground and turned his focus to the tall, muscular young man in front of him. In both of his hands, Sumarokov held two blades, connected by chains, with red handles and golden swords gleaming ominously.
Before the old man could speak, he noticed something strange: the air around him was filled with a red, chaotic energy. In the distance, a figure was hurtling toward him at supersonic speed.
The target was clear: him.
Before he could react, Pietro's fist collided with his face with a deafening boom, like thunder erupting in the night. The sheer force of the blow distorted the old man's skin, and his body was sent spiraling backward uncontrollably.
Waiting for him in midair was Sumarokov.
Inhaling deeply, his muscles tensed as he gripped the twin blades. With a flash of golden steel, he swung the swords in an intricate cross pattern. The old man's body flew straight into it, and in an instant, his form disintegrated—shattered into thousands of tiny pieces.
Sumarokov had swung his blades thousands of times in a second, effortlessly slicing the old man apart.
As the pieces of the old man's body scattered across the wet ground, Pietro, having just unleashed his sonic punch, shook his head. "That was brutal."
Sumarokov grinned. "My double sword technique isn't for the faint of heart."
Anyone witnessing such a scene would be filled with terror. Swinging a blade thousands of times in a single second is beyond human capability. Even Wolverine, with his regenerative powers, would be reduced to shredded flesh by Sumarokov's relentless strikes.
If Sergei was a well-rounded warrior, Sumarokov was a genius in his own right, with talents that far exceeded even Sergei's. His speed and extraordinary hearing set him apart. Sumarokov's hearing was far superior to ordinary people, allowing him to develop a unique combat style—sound breathing. His technique was perfectly tailored to his abilities, rivaling even the famous thunder breathing in power, perhaps even surpassing it.
Wanda approached, her attention focused on the remains of the disintegrated corpse in front of her. She spoke softly, "Something's not right."
Pietro and Sumarokov raised their eyebrows. "Something's wrong?" Pietro asked.
Wanda nodded. "I can feel it... he—or whatever that thing is—it's not dead yet."
Without hesitation, Wanda extended her right hand. The chaotic energy of her magic flared to life, swirling violently as she focused on the remains. With a sharp gesture, she clenched her fist.
Boom!
The space in front of them, spanning hundreds of meters, suddenly collapsed under the immense force of her chaos magic. Everything in that space—rain, gravel, soil, and even the scattered pieces of the corpse—was crushed into nothingness.
Pietro and Sumarokov exchanged glances, knowing full well just how overwhelming Wanda's chaos magic could be. As members of the same family, they had seen her unleash this kind of power before.
It could be said that, aside from Leon, Wanda was unquestionably the most powerful in the entire family. Pietro, while formidable with his incredible speed, was still outmatched by Wanda's chaos magic. Pietro's speed was impressive, but it paled in comparison to the raw, terrifying power of her abilities. However, it was rare to see Wanda unleash her chaos magic to its fullest potential, so few fully grasped the extent of her strength.
Now, feeling the weight of Wanda's power firsthand, Pietro and Sumarokov exchanged uneasy glances. The cold determination on Wanda's face left them both swallowing nervously. They silently vowed never to show off in front of her again—one misstep, and she could crush their internal organs without a second thought.
Just as they were contemplating Wanda's terrifying abilities, an ominous and suffocating presence suddenly erupted from the front. It felt like a monstrous force from the depths of hell, cold and overwhelmingly powerful. The atmosphere around them shifted; time and space seemed to freeze.
A low, hoarse voice echoed, "You are more powerful than I thought. Before, I was bound by the contract. But now, even if it means offending that person, I will drag your souls to hell."
The ground began to tremble violently, cracks forming across the highway, while the torrential rain was forced back into the sky under the immense pressure of this dark force.
Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov stood their ground like unyielding pillars, unaffected by the chaos around them. Despite the earth shaking beneath them, they remained still, their focus locked on the terrifying sight ahead.
In the space that Wanda had crushed with her chaos magic, something even more horrifying was happening—the blood and remnants of the figure began to reform, taking on a human shape.
A new figure emerged, vastly different from the previous image of the gentlemanly old man. This creature stood tall, with red skin, a thin and grotesque body, and a face twisted with ugliness.
His sharp teeth gleamed, and his eyes radiated violence and greed. Behind him, a devilish, slender tail flicked back and forth, while a tattered, bright red cloak clung to his bare upper body.
The pouring rain and the oppressive aura surrounding him felt like a mountain pressing down on Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov.
The sheer power of this monster exceeded their expectations, filling all three of them with a palpable sense of danger. It was a chilling realization: they were facing a true life-or-death crisis.
As they squared off against the monster, Jeff and the others had retreated several kilometers back in their RV. Armed with high-precision night vision binoculars, they watched the unfolding scene in awe. Their jaws dropped, shock evident on everyone's faces.
"Look! I knew it! Now there's some kind of ugly monster!" Adam excitedly slapped his friend's shoulder, his voice loud with excitement. "Wanda and Pietro must've noticed the creature, which is why they told us to stay in the car!"
"Yeah... looks like you were right, Adam. You're amazing," Lena responded absentmindedly, her eyes glued to the binoculars. But as she watched the unfolding battle, her heart raced. The fantasy playing out before her felt almost surreal. It was as if her wildest dreams had come to life—and only she could fully appreciate it.
…
Who doesn't indulge in fantasy? Lena and her friends were at that age where their dreams were vivid, but unlike many girls who fantasized about meeting a handsome vampire prince or some dashing male protagonist in a romantic script, their dreams were different. They didn't dream of love stories. They wanted to become superheroes like Wanda—strong, brave, and independent.
They imagined themselves walking alone through the darkness, battling monsters, and experiencing the thrill of extreme fighting. In their fantasies, they were misunderstood by the world, yet they embraced their legendary fates. Even in death, they would be remembered as heroic figures, their stories retold for generations.
Up until now, those were just daydreams, fantasies they indulged in when they were lost in thought. But now, witnessing Wanda in action, it felt like their imaginations were becoming reality. Wasn't Wanda living the life they dreamed of?
Lena and her friends were not ordinary in their imaginations. As they pieced together the events that had unfolded—the old gentleman, the battle with the monster—they quickly crafted a narrative in their minds.
In their version of the story, Wanda and her twin brother Pietro were born with extraordinary abilities. Jealous of their powers, others caused their parents' deaths during the war, leaving the twins orphaned at a young age. They wandered the world, struggling to survive and discover their true selves. Along the way, because of their unique abilities, they encountered monsters and dark forces invisible to ordinary humans.
Witnessing the horrors brought on by evil creatures, the twins vowed to fight back, dedicating their lives to protecting the world in silence. As they traveled the globe, honing their abilities and battling monsters, they met a new ally: Sumarokov. Together, the trio formed a team, confronting one supernatural crisis after another.
In Lena's mind, there were even more dramatic moments—life-and-death situations, the twins reuniting with loved ones, only to sacrifice personal happiness for their greater mission. Beneath Wanda's cold, determined exterior, Lena imagined a heart weighed down by sorrow, a heart that longed for peace but was bound by the vows she had made to protect the world.
After imagining all these plots, the boys and girls were on the verge of bursting with excitement. Their eyes shone brightly, and they could hardly contain themselves—they wanted to scream. It all seemed so perfect.
"If I could, I swear I'd join them," Jeff said, barely able to keep his excitement in check. "Even if it's just as a driver or a chef!"
Adam quickly shut down Jeff's dream with a laugh. "Come on, brother-in-law, do you really think you'd be the driver or the chef? That's my job!"
"Hey, don't forget about us!" a few of the girls chimed in, feigning indignation.
Sure, Adam handled most of the cooking during their trip, but that didn't mean the girls hadn't helped. Adam did have an advantage, though—his dad was a chef, and he had learned a few skills from him. But still, they all contributed in their own way. If anyone was qualified to be a chef for the team, they were!
But cooking wasn't the only thing on their minds. Some of the girls were already fantasizing about something more dramatic—a love story in the midst of danger. What if Pietro or Sumarokov became heartbroken, devastated by one of them getting injured or worse? It was a dark, twisted thought, but somehow, they couldn't shake it. Maybe, just maybe, it would add a little more romance to the adventure.
As they debated whether they should change into something more stylish and elegant once the battle ended, in the mirror dimension, Keisha's eyes were glowing with a holy light. She was tapping into her Eye of Insight, reading information, her delicate face radiating calm but cold resolve.
"That thing from the Hell Dimension—it should be eliminated," Keisha stated coldly.
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"I agree," Leon replied, "but we can't eliminate him yet. Maybe we need to wait until we're stronger."
Leon knew exactly why Keisha had reacted this way. The angelic civilization, rooted in a theocratic ideology, was heavily influenced by Queen Keisha's controversial order. Though angels were incredibly strong, their power wasn't limitless. They rarely interfered with the natural development of lower civilizations, avoiding direct genetic modifications or forced advancements. Instead, they promoted justice, only stepping in to punish evils that these civilizations couldn't handle themselves.
What made them truly admirable was their spirit of sacrifice. Despite their aloofness toward lower civilizations, angels often faced the gravest dangers with unwavering bravery, using their beauty to take on the most perilous tasks. They protected the weak, even when they knew it meant their own demise, creating countless heroic legends in the process.
From a human perspective, angels might have had their flaws, but their commitment to destroying evil was unquestionable. When dealing with it, they acted with swift and overwhelming force, obliterating their enemies completely.
Demons, in particular, were the top priority for angels to annihilate. For centuries, the Merlot Heavenly Court, led by Queen Keisha, and the demon army, commanded by Demon Queen Morgana, had clashed. Countless angel warriors had sacrificed their lives in the ongoing war, and even Keisha herself had not escaped the toll of that eternal battle.
The hatred angels harbor toward demons is deeply ingrained, almost coded into their very DNA. Even if the demon in front of them wasn't directly related to Demon Queen Morgana, demons, in general, were seen as embodiments of evil and darkness—close enough to be treated the same. From the angels' perspective, the solution was simple: eliminate them.
Leon, understanding this deep-rooted animosity, tried to calm the slightly irritated angel. After all, they weren't currently strong enough to storm the hell dimension and kill the self-proclaimed Satan, Mephisto, in person.
Yes, the monster before them was none other than Mephisto, the demon lord. Of course, this wasn't his true form, but rather a small soul projection, a way to bypass the contract he had signed with the Ancient One. This allowed him to roam the world, making deals and claiming human souls.
This time, Mephisto had crossed paths with Wanda and Pietro, likely drawn by Wanda's extraordinary soul. Chaos magic was too iconic, easily attracting the attention of powerful beings.
"The old guy's angry now, and Wanda and the others are in serious trouble," Leon remarked with a soft smile. "Looks like it's time for the real hero to step in."
He thought to himself that after defeating this fragment of Mephisto, it would be a good opportunity to add the demon lord's genes to his ever-expanding genetic database.
…
Mephisto, now fully transformed into his demonic form, radiated an overwhelming, oppressive force that felt almost tangible, pressing heavily on Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov. If not for their immense physical and mental strength, they might have crumbled under the sheer weight of his presence. This wasn't merely a test of combat ability—it was a suppression that came from the very essence of life.
Despite being just a soul projection, Mephisto was still on the level of a Skyfather, an entity far beyond their reach. If this had been his true form, one glance from him would have likely reduced Pietro and Sumarokov to ashes in an instant, their souls condemned to eternal torment in hell. Only Wanda might have lasted a little longer.
Wanda, sensing the imminent danger, quickly deployed her Chaos Magic, slowing time around them. The downpour of rain seemed to fall at a crawl, each droplet clearly visible to the naked eye. Even with this shield, the three of them felt like a fragile boat in a storm, ready to capsize at any moment.
"You've done well. I'm more impressed with you than ever. You are… special," Mephisto's low, rasping voice echoed through the sky as thunder rumbled above, flashes of red lightning slicing through the darkened sky. The flashes of lightning briefly illuminated the desolate land below.
"Pietro, we can't defeat him. We need to leave," Wanda whispered, her gaze fixed on the demon floating in the stormy sky. She knew they stood no chance, and she didn't want to push their luck—especially if Leon and Natasha found out, they'd definitely get a scolding.
"Should we call for backup?" Pietro, the younger and more impulsive, was hesitant to retreat in defeat. If the three of them couldn't win, surely the rest of the team could take this red-skinned monster down.
Wanda shook her head. "There's no need for that. From what this old guy mentioned earlier, there's likely something on Earth that's restricting him. We don't need to take unnecessary risks."
"Alright, just hold on—" Pietro began, but before he could finish, a violent, powerful surge of energy swept over them. Their expressions shifted as they realized too late that Mephisto had already anticipated their plans and launched his attack.
Mephisto's black magic unfolded in full force. The ground beneath them began to crack, and from the fissures, the red flames of hell erupted. Within the flames, the faint wails of countless tormented souls could be heard, their screams filling the air as they clawed desperately, sensing fresh souls nearby. These souls, trapped in the abyss of hell, seemed to be trying to break free and enter the human world.
The entire area, spanning several thousand meters, had transformed into a scene straight out of purgatory.
"Hell… we've got to move!" Pietro's eyes widened in fear. He grabbed Wanda and Sumarokov, attempting to speed them away, but the oppressive aura weighed down on his very soul, stiffening his body. It was as though he had lost control over himself.
"Damn it. If only I had that kind of overwhelming power like Leon..." Pietro cursed under his breath, wishing he could awaken the same dominating energy.
"Trying to run? That's not happening." Mephisto's grim laughter echoed through the air. He had already taken the risk of breaking his contract; there was no way he would let his prey escape now. His eyes glowed with hellfire as he spread his arms, readying another surge of dark magic.
But before Mephisto could strike again—
Rumble!
It felt as though the heavens and earth were colliding. The will of an ancient god stirred, and a torrent of spiritual energy, like a violent ocean, surged forward. This unstoppable wave of force transformed the world around them, turning the sky blood-red. Dark clouds rolled in like an oncoming storm, thick and suffocating, as if they were about to burst at any moment. Red lightning flashed through the darkness, intertwining with the thunder, creating a chaotic scene.
The scale of this power was immense, apocalyptic even. Outside the epicenter, Jeff and the others in the RV struggled to breathe as the two clashing forces divided the sky into two realms: one, a world of darkness, evil, and despair; the other, so pure and overwhelming that it felt as though it could shatter souls with its sheer intensity. It was like the end of the world had arrived.
It was terrifying.
The scale of the event felt like the end of the world itself, making it nearly impossible for Jeff and the others in the RV outside Perfection to catch their breath. The clash of energies split the night sky into two realms—one full of gloom, darkness, and pure evil; the other, so pure and overwhelming, it felt like it could shatter souls with its mere presence.
Mephisto's expression darkened as he stared ahead, sensing a familiar and ominous aura. Wanda and her companions, startled by the shift, turned around. There, a hundred meters away, stood Leon, dressed in a red leather jacket and jeans, walking toward them with an air of calm.
The power emanating from Leon was like the wrath of a god, making the world tremble in response. The rain falling from the sky evaporated before even touching the ground, and the air around him distorted under the sheer weight of his aura.
"Boss Leon!"
"Leon!"
Seeing Leon, Wanda and the others breathed a sigh of relief, their faces lighting up with reassuring smiles. To them, Leon was a mountain of strength, always standing firm behind them. No matter the challenge, no matter how powerful their enemies, they believed that as long as Leon was there, they had nothing to fear.
This time was no different.
Leon's sudden arrival and the unprecedented, terrifying power he unleashed caused Mephisto to furrow his brows, his face dark with tension. Despite being a demon lord who had roamed the world for countless years, encountering all manner of people, this new presence unsettled him. The only other humans who had ever impressed him were the mages—their mastery of white magic and their iron will had always stood out. The Ancient One, in particular, had been the greatest among them.
As for mutants, Mephisto viewed them as little more than genetically enhanced beings. Talented as some might be—such as the former Apocalypse—they never posed much of a threat to him.
But this human, Leon, was different. The sheer force of his presence, his defiance of Mephisto, shook the very fabric of reality. For the first time, Mephisto's gaze narrowed as he muttered, "Your soul… it's more special than theirs."
…
Mephisto's hoarse, low voice echoed in the air, reaching everyone's ears.
"How arrogant, Mephisto," Leon said softly, his eyes lifting to meet the demon's gaze as Mephisto hovered above. Leon's hair swayed slightly in the wind, his calm demeanor contrasting with the rising tension.
"You human brat—" Mephisto began, but Leon wasn't interested in hearing any more from him.
Without hesitation, Leon raised his hand and waved it dismissively. In his mind, he communicated with Keisha, "Keisha, block the space in this area. I don't want this guy slipping away."
"Yes, Captain Leon. Activating space blockade. The area within nine thousand meters will be isolated. Only god-level entities can break through," Keisha responded.
A soft hum filled the air as strange space fluctuations rippled outward. Mephisto, sharp and ever watchful, noticed the shift immediately. His eyes narrowed as he glanced around, assessing the situation and the human he had originally thought was merely a promising talent.
"You blocked the space? This strange power... even I didn't sense it at first," Mephisto muttered, intrigued.
Despite the space being sealed, Mephisto felt no panic. As a demon king who had lived for countless millennia, he had faced innumerable schemes and hopeless situations in the depths of hell, only to emerge victorious each time. He had claimed the throne of Satan, becoming the ruler of hell itself.
This projection of his soul might be destroyed, but the loss wouldn't be catastrophic. His true body would remain unharmed, and he would recover over time. What truly piqued his interest was Leon's ability to cast such a flawless space blockade.
At his level, much could be understood in an instant—even the threads of fate. It was no wonder beings like Mephisto, classified as Skyfather-level, were referred to as gods. They had touched upon the realms of omniscience and omnipotence.
And now, Mephisto was beginning to see that Leon was no ordinary human.
The more beings like Mephisto understand the world, the more they develop a unique mentality—one centered around control. They can easily foresee the general flow of events and, if they can peer into someone's future, believe they have the power to control it all. This mindset, however, makes them particularly reactive to anything unknown, dangerous, or beyond their grasp.
Mephisto, despite seeing Leon as a powerful and exceptional human, couldn't shake the suspicion that the space-blocking power Leon displayed wasn't his own. It felt out of place.
"Let's make a deal," Mephisto said, trying to lure Leon in with one of his trademark propositions. But Leon wasn't having it. He tilted his head slightly, cutting Mephisto off mid-sentence.
"The look in your eyes... that malice is irritating," Leon said softly, his voice steady but cold.
Whoosh!
In an instant, a golden light erupted from Leon's body, transforming into countless shimmering particles that shot toward Mephisto. Before the demon lord could react, the golden particles re-formed into Leon, who now stood face-to-face with him—less than a meter apart.
Though Mephisto towered over Leon in his nearly two-meter demon form, there was no doubt that Leon's presence was just as imposing. For a brief moment, Mephisto tried again, beginning to speak, "Child—"
But before he could finish, his eyes widened. A glowing, golden foot was already swinging toward his head.
The attack came too fast. Even Mephisto, with his billions of years of experience, couldn't react in time.
Boom!
The impact slammed into Mephisto's cheek with tremendous force, cutting him off mid-sentence.
Mephisto flew through the air like a cannonball, trailing a long streak of golden energy, before crashing into the ground with an earth-shaking explosion. Dust and smoke billowed into the sky as his impact created a hundred-meter-wide crater.
In the distance, Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov quickly retreated from the central battle zone, positioning themselves near the RV where Jeff and the others were waiting. Their first priority was to evacuate the area, but they also aimed to protect their friends from any stray attacks.
When Wanda and the others appeared beside the RV, Jeff and his group were momentarily startled—having been ready to put on oxygen masks in fear of the battle. But once they recognized who it was, their anxiety quickly turned to excitement.
"Wanda, that was amazing! Was that red energy your power? Can you make those giant arms appear again? You were so cool, I thought I was going to faint!" Jeff exclaimed.
"Wanda, you're perfect! I'm totally in love with you now!" another chimed in.
"Pietro, Sumarokov, you guys have been holding out on us, haven't you?" one of the boys shouted. "When we were playing games before, you must've sensed something was off! You said your car broke down, but you were really tracking that monster to protect us, weren't you? Oh my god, I love you all so much—it's like you're heroes straight out of a movie!"
Their admiration was overwhelming, with excited eyes practically glowing with awe. Pietro, always the playful and boastful one, soaked up the attention. He struck a confident pose, lowered his voice for effect, and said coolly, "We're just the vanguard in the darkness."
"It's our duty to fight against the darkness and protect the world," Pietro said, his voice filled with a sense of purpose. As thunder cracked overhead, his face, illuminated by flashes of lightning, seemed to match the gravity of his words. Jeff and the others were already fully sold on the idea—several even clutched their chests, on the verge of fainting from how cool he looked.
He was so striking that a few of the younger girls in the RV nearly flung open the door to run into his arms. Pietro, catching sight of their admiring expressions, felt an immense sense of satisfaction that almost made him burst with pride.
Meanwhile, Wanda and Sumarokov stood to the side, rolling their eyes at Pietro's dramatics, but they were too tired to call him out on it. Wanda, in particular, was more focused on the ongoing battle. A massive storm raged just beyond them, though they were shielded by an invisible barrier.
Her eyes glowed red as she observed the battlefield with growing surprise. She knew that Leon had blocked off the space within a ten-thousand-meter radius, and while she had some understanding of his powers, this level of control was astonishing. She made a mental note to ask him later, though she knew she'd have to tread carefully. Leon did have a tendency to spoil the younger ones—especially the girls.
She smirked to herself, amused at the thought.
…
On Leon's side, he had no idea that Wanda—one of his favorites—was already scheming about how to get something out of him later. His focus remained on Mephisto.
That lightspeed kick he had landed, bolstered by his speed, had the force of a thousand tons. But Leon knew it wouldn't deal fatal damage to someone of Mephisto's caliber.
Buzz!
Leon crossed his hands, forming a brilliant golden light between them, like he was holding a miniature sun. And then, that sun exploded. Countless golden light clusters shot toward the ground like meteors, their brilliance contrasting beautifully against the dark night.
But beauty wasn't the only thing these golden spheres brought.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
In an instant, the glowing orbs struck the earth, igniting a series of explosions that shook the ground. Mushroom clouds of fire rose high, illuminating everything around them. The air swirled violently, sweeping away debris like a tidal wave swallowing everything in its path. Gravel, weeds, telephone poles, and billboards lining the kilometer-wide stretch were torn apart. Even the shattered power lines sparked faint arcs of electricity.
The ground within several kilometers looked like it had been hit by modern missiles. In that entire zone, no living thing could survive; anything caught in the blast would be obliterated.
Outside the sealed-off area, Jeff and the others clung to anything they could find in the RV, their bodies shaking violently with the impact. The powerful winds wouldn't harm them, but it gave them a visceral sense of just how terrifying the explosion at the center must be.
Through the windshield, their wide-eyed stares were locked on the distant figure in the sky—Leon, still unleashing waves of glowing light. The awe on their faces was undeniable, as if they were gazing upon a god.
"H-he's so cool!" one of them whispered in pure amazement.
"He's like a god. And believe me, Jeff, if I were a woman, I'd fall in love with him," Adam said excitedly, slapping Jeff's shoulder repeatedly.
It hurt, but Jeff didn't care at all. Several of the girls were staring with hearts practically in their eyes. How could anyone be so handsome, strong, and utterly perfect? And on top of all that, fast and able to fly. It was the total package, a sure way to steal their hearts. They were absolutely smitten.
Pietro, who had been basking in the girls' attention moments ago, noticed their sudden shift of focus to Leon. His once cool and confident demeanor vanished, leaving him speechless. In no time, the girls who had been fawning over him had shifted their affections entirely.
"Superficial, the lot of them. A bunch of shallow girls," Pietro huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms.
His friend, Sumarokov, knew him all too well. He caught Pietro's expression and immediately understood what was going through his head. Sumarokov bumped Pietro's shoulder and 'comforted', "Come on, Pietro. Don't feel bad. We all know you're a charming guy, but at the end of the day, you're just a boy. And when it comes to the boss, well, Leon's on a whole other level."
"Go away," Pietro muttered, feeling very "touched" by his friend's attempt at "comfort." He shot Sumarokov a friendly middle finger in response.
Sumarokov chuckled, clearly enjoying Pietro's reaction. Watching his usually mischievous friend get flustered gave him a sense of satisfaction. After all, someone had to put Pietro in his place when the chance arose.
Their banter was cut short by Wanda. Her eyes, glowing like red gems, were fixed on the aftermath of the explosion. Her delicate, serious expression made it clear something was off. "I can feel it... that guy's completely unharmed."
Pietro and Sumarokov looked at her in surprise. "Leon's attack didn't do much?" Wanda continued, her tone tense.
"What?" Pietro raised an eyebrow. The wind whipped through his hair and clothes, but he hardly noticed as he crossed his arms, thinking. "Those light attacks were like missile strikes."
Sumarokov nodded. "With that kind of bombardment, and the guy's still fine? Who is this guy?"
"Leon called him Mephisto," Wanda said softly, her pink lips barely moving.
"Mephisto?" Pietro and Sumarokov exchanged confused looks. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but they couldn't quite place it.
Wanda, however, didn't have time to elaborate. The situation was far too serious for distractions.
"Leon called him Mephisto," Wanda murmured softly, her pink lips barely moving.
"Mephisto?" Pietro and Sumarokov looked at each other, confused. The name sounded familiar, but they couldn't quite place it.
Wanda didn't press them, instead focusing on the red figure looming in the flames. She whispered, "Demon Lord Mephisto."
"Demon lord?" The realization finally hit Pietro and Sumarokov, their expressions turning to shock. "Wait, isn't that the guy who rules Hell?"
"Exactly," Wanda confirmed, her red eyes glowing with intensity. "If the creature we're facing is truly Mephisto, it means one thing."
Pietro and Sumarokov stared at her, their faces now serious. "Hell..."
Leon had mentioned to them once, during a casual conversation, that the world was far more complex than they could imagine, with beings from other dimensions and realms. They had believed him, but always with a small sense of doubt. After all, they had never encountered anything that otherworldly—until now.
Mephisto's appearance shattered all of those doubts. The Demon Lord himself was standing before them, the ruler of Hell.
"Man, this is insane," Pietro muttered, his usual playful demeanor replaced with concern. "What we've dealt with up until now was nothing—just some shady organizations and their little winter projects."
"Now we're talking about facing mythological beings," Sumarokov added, his voice tense. "Is this why Leon's been having us capture all those guys?"
Wanda's expression hardened as she interrupted their thoughts. "Leon has his reasons, and whatever those reasons are, we follow. We support him. No questions." Her gaze locked onto Pietro's as if saying, 'Question me and you die.'
Pietro felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead.
Pietro quickly threw his hands up in mock outrage. "Hey, Wanda, are you serious? How could I ever question Boss Leon? Are you doubting my loyalty to him?" His voice grew more dramatic, and he clutched his chest as if heartbroken, his face full of exaggerated sadness and hurt. "I can't believe you would think I'd question my own family, Wanda!"
Wanda rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed with his theatrics. She had more important things to worry about. A flicker of concern crossed her face as she turned her gaze back to the battlefield. "Leon..."
The rain of light that filled the sky had ceased. Leon hovered above, releasing his hands from the cross-shaped gesture he had been holding, his eyes fixed on the red figure below. The strong wind howled, dispersing the flames and smoke, revealing the devastation beneath. The land below was cratered with pits like the surface of the moon, of varying sizes and depths, the ground itself scorched and torn apart by the sheer power of Leon's attack.
Yet, despite all of that, Mephisto stood there, unharmed. A thin, blood-colored barrier shimmered around his body, barely rippling from the impact. The Demon Lord looked up at Leon, his voice cold and filled with disdain.
"I hate your impulsiveness, kid," Mephisto growled.
Then, without warning, he spread his arms wide. The very atmosphere seemed to shift as an overwhelming, indescribable force surged toward Leon. Faint whispers and eerie murmurs echoed from all around, as though the sky and earth themselves were conspiring against him.
"I hate your impulsiveness, kid," Mephisto growled, his voice cold as he glared up at Leon.
With a sweeping gesture, Mephisto spread his arms wide, and the very fabric of space and reality seemed to twist. A crushing, indescribable force surged toward Leon, filling the air with faint whispers and murmurs. These eerie voices carried a dark power, designed to weaken the will, seduce the soul, and drag it into an endless abyss.
But Leon, who had awakened his Conqueror's Haki, was far too strong for such tricks. His fighting spirit burned too brightly to be touched by these dark enchantments. His sharp gaze cut through the illusion, and he spat a single word: "Get out."
BOOM!
A torrent of overwhelming spirit erupted from Leon like a mountain crashing into the sea, sweeping across the battlefield. The sheer force of his will crushed Mephisto's dark magic, shattering the whispers and murmurings into nothingness. Even Mephisto, the Demon Lord, felt the impact. His very soul trembled, wounded by the surge of Leon's power.
The weight of Leon's spiritual force bore down on Mephisto, pinning him in place. The gravity around him seemed to intensify, making even flight impossible. Mephisto struggled to lift his gaze toward the sky, where Leon hovered like an unshakable colossus. The dark clouds above parted, revealing the full moon, casting its light behind Leon and making him appear almost divine.
For the first time, Mephisto felt the full weight of Leon's strength. It wasn't just physical power—it was the indomitable spirit of a man whose courage could shake mountains. And the more Mephisto saw of it, the more he coveted Leon's soul. It was unlike any other, both mysterious and unyielding. A soul like that would be of the highest quality.
But Mephisto's malicious intent was too obvious. Leon's response was swift.
WHOOSH!
In a flash of golden light, Leon's body dissolved into countless bright particles and vanished. Mephisto sensed the attack coming just in time. He spun around, arms raised defensively, but it wasn't enough. A swift, golden-shimmering kick connected with his arm, the impact like a clap of thunder.
BOOM!
Mephisto managed to block the strike, but the sheer force of the blow sent a shockwave rippling outwards, tearing the ground apart and widening cracks in the earth. Rocks and debris floated unnaturally into the air, defying gravity.
Not far from Leon and Mephisto, the very ground was pulverized by the sheer force of their clash. The space around them warped like a black hole, consuming everything that drew too close, reducing it to nothingness. The cracks in the earth widened, and where Leon's feet met Mephisto's arms, red and black lightning crackled violently, filling the air with a deafening sound like the cry of a thousand birds.
Amid the stalemate, Mephisto was the first to act. He raised his free hand, conjuring a black and purple magic circle in his palm.
Danger.
Leon's instincts flared. He felt the dark energy surrounding him like a tidal wave, threatening to crush him from all sides. The air itself seemed to tremble as something terrible stirred within the magic.
Without hesitation, Leon pulled back his right leg with lightning speed, crossing his arms as bright golden light surged through his body. In that moment, he became a living beacon, radiating blinding energy. The very atmosphere around him began to churn, a storm of unimaginable power brewing at his command.
Mephisto's eyes widened in disbelief. Could a mere human possess such raw, overwhelming energy? This brat was barely more than a teenager, yet he wielded power that defied comprehension.
Feeling the threat, Mephisto quickly unleashed every bit of his dark magic. He summoned layers of black and purple defensive barriers in a desperate attempt to shield himself. But before he could finish fortifying them—
BOOM!
A cataclysmic blast erupted. Golden pillars of light shot into the sky and surged across the ground like an ocean of molten energy. The searing heat and overwhelming force melted everything in their path, leaving nothing but devastation in their wake.
Inside his protective layers of magic, Mephisto watched in horror as the golden light shattered his defenses one by one. The winds howled, whipping his cloak violently, and even the mighty Demon Lord swayed, struggling to stay grounded as if he were an insect caught in a deadly storm.
"Damn it…" Mephisto muttered, his face twisted in shock. He had never imagined such terrifying power could come from a human.
The golden light illuminated the earth for hundreds of kilometers, banishing the darkness. Even residents in nearby cities witnessed the phenomenon, bewildered as they pulled out their phones to capture the rare sight. None of them knew that, just hundreds of kilometers away, on a desolate road, a demon lord feared by the world had been bested by a human.
As the brilliant beam of light slowly shrank and faded, calm returned to the land.
Outside the sealed 10,000-meter radius, Wanda, Pietro, Sumarokov, and Jeff sat in the RV, utterly speechless.
Bang!
Jeff and the others, as if puppets on strings, opened the car doors and stepped outside. They stared up at the sky, their eyes wide with shock.
The once dark and stormy sky, filled with heavy clouds, had been cleared by the golden light. The downpour that had soaked the area ceased entirely, leaving behind a stunningly clear night. A bright moon now hung high, surrounded by countless twinkling stars. The scene was breathtaking.
Yet, beneath this tranquil beauty, something far more awe-inspiring took place. High above them, Leon floated, his strong hand gripping Mephisto's throat.
The demon lord was not faring well. Moments ago, Leon had nearly dealt him a devastating blow by awakening the full extent of his power. Despite being a demon lord, Mephisto was still, at his core, a dark creature—innately vulnerable to the power of light.
After all, why else would the angels in Heaven constantly suppress Hell? While power struggles play a role, the inherent weakness to light also factors in heavily.
Now, Mephisto's once imposing demon form had begun to flicker and grow faint, his essence becoming slightly illusory.
Mephisto's breath was weak, his hands and tail hanging limp, but despite his condition, he still carried himself with arrogance.
"You're something special. I like you more and more," he said, his voice steady despite his weakened state.
Leon stared at him in silence, but Mephisto mistook the look in his eyes, misreading it as hesitation. A smirk curled on his lips.
"You're not planning to kill me, are you? I can see it in your eyes. That glimmer—oh, I know it well. It's ambition," Mephisto purred, his voice unexpectedly soft. "You're different from the usual humans, aren't you? Ambitious. Unlike those small-minded fools."
He continued, his tone calm and persuasive. "Most humans are ignorant. They crave wealth, power, women, life... and to get it, they'll trade anything, even their souls. They make deals with devils, enjoying a brief moment of satisfaction, but in the end, they lose their souls. They become slaves, tortured, sold like property."
Mephisto's eyes gleamed. "But you—you're different. You have ambition, yes, but it's bigger, more rational."
Leon nodded slightly, as if acknowledging Mephisto's words.
"What you said makes sense. I do have ambition," Leon admitted.
Mephisto's demon grin widened, confident. "See? We're alike. We can make a deal, you and I. I can help you achieve whatever it is you desire."
Leon's eyes narrowed with interest. "I'm curious," he said, his voice cool. "What kind of deal are you proposing?"
"I don't know if you're aware, but you're not alone in this world. What I can tell you is that there's something much bigger beyond it," Mephisto said, his voice dripping with intrigue.
Leon raised an eyebrow, his tone neutral. "Uh-huh."
Little fox... Mephisto thought to himself, growing frustrated. Despite his attempts to read Leon, the human remained a mystery. Outwardly, Mephisto maintained a charming smile. "Asgard, Hell, Heaven, the Dream Dimension—these are secret realms, unknown to most humans on Earth."
He paused, studying Leon, but the young man's expression gave nothing away.
"So... what's your point?" Leon asked softly.
Mephisto leaned in, his voice smooth, almost seductive. "These dimensional gods rule their worlds, enjoying near-eternal life. Isn't that something you'd want? To be like them—a god?"
Leon didn't flinch. "And you, being one of them, don't have the power to help me achieve that?"
Mephisto's grin faltered slightly but quickly recovered. "Well, to a certain extent, I do. But I suspect you wouldn't approve of the methods—side effects, and all that."
Leon raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue.
"I admire you greatly," Mephisto said, eyeing Leon closely. "There's a mystery about you that I can't quite unravel, and mystery often leads to an unimaginable future."
Mephisto, despite his arrogance, realized something important. Even with all his power, he couldn't fully understand Leon. Two possibilities crossed his mind: either Leon had someone stronger backing him, or he possessed some unknown, mysterious power of his own. If it was the former, Mephisto would be eager to flatter and align with this hidden force. After all, he hadn't climbed to the throne of Hell by strength alone—cunning and shamelessness played their part.
But if it was the latter, Mephisto faced a decision. Should he risk everything to eliminate Leon and uncover his secret? Or, perhaps, it was wiser to show goodwill and seek an alliance?
The idea of killing Leon was too complicated for Mephisto. Due to his contract with the Ancient One, he couldn't even set foot on Earth. Summoning his minions from Hell would be an insult to her authority, and the last thing he wanted was to provoke the Ancient One into storming Hell to destroy him. Mephisto knew how ruthless she could be, especially as her time was nearing its end. He couldn't afford to stir trouble with her now.
Realizing this, Mephisto leaned toward the safer option. He weighed his choices carefully, and Leon, sensing Mephisto's thoughts, remained unbothered. Leon understood that Mephisto might scheme behind the scenes, but he didn't care. His confidence rested in the Sky Blade, and in the adult world, everything boiled down to interests and benefits.
Leon loosened his grip on Mephisto's throat, allowing him to breathe easier. This gesture clearly showed that Leon accepted Mephisto's offer of goodwill. Seizing the moment, Mephisto quickly said, "I can grant you access to Hell."
"Hell is vast," Mephisto began, gesturing with his fingers. "In human lore, it's often depicted as a mysterious, dangerous, and dark place, embodying the darkest aspects of humanity."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "Hell is dangerous, sure. Not much better than the hypocritical kingdoms of Heaven. But where there's danger, there's also opportunity."
Leon nodded, processing what Mephisto was saying. Though Hell was terrifying in the human imagination, it was still a massive dimension filled with powerful demons. It operated with its own structure, and within that system, resources and treasures beyond what the human world could offer were born. There were even taverns, mercenaries, and other services in Hell.
"So," Leon asked, "what's the price I need to pay?"
"If you, or your subordinates, help me with something at a specific time and place, I'll give you what you desire," Mephisto said, revealing his true intentions.
Leon smiled slightly. "That sounds fair."
"Of course," Mephisto added confidently, "you can refuse my offer, but I don't think you will. This is a smart deal, and you're not the type to lose out."
As expected, Leon didn't refuse.
"Then, we have a deal," Leon said.
Mephisto chuckled and extended his hand. In a flash of black-purple light, a burning flame appeared—a hellfire.
"This is the anchor to the Hell dimension," Mephisto explained. "Through it, you can locate and teleport to Hell at any time."
Leon snapped his fingers, causing the hellfire to vanish from Mephisto's hand. The blockade on the surrounding space lifted. This subtle gesture confirmed Mephisto's suspicions—this human was mature beyond reason, unnervingly confident. He realized Leon was either completely mad or possessed a level of power that allowed him to treat even a demon lord as an equal.
As Leon accepted the hell coordinate, Mephisto's demonic form began to fade, leaving one final remark before disappearing entirely: "I look forward to our next meeting, Mr. Leon."
Leon narrowed his eyes, his calm expression hiding a mysterious smile. "Keisha."
A calm voice responded in his mind, "I am here, Captain Leon. The target, soul projection of Demon Lord Mephisto, has been recorded. Analysis complete. Race: Demon system. Power level: God-tier. Beginning calculations to counter Demon Lord Mephisto's god-level combat capabilities."
Leon smirked. From the moment the space was sealed, he had instructed Keisha to use Sky Blade's support to scan Mephisto in every detail. He had been cautious all along, never trusting Mephisto's manipulations.
Much like Batman's wariness of Superman, Leon, despite cooperating, kept his trump card ready. It didn't matter if Mephisto's soul projection was killed. Leon had bigger plans, especially when it came to Hell's rich resources. A dimension of such magnitude was far too valuable to ignore.
He had no intention of letting it slip away.
Mephisto, an ancient being who has lived for countless billions of years, had countless schemes in his mind. He believed he could gradually manipulate Leon through repeated transactions and alliances, ultimately achieving his own goals.
But Leon's approach was far more straightforward and brutal. His goal was simple: take control of Mephisto and claim the Hell dimension for himself. However, knowing he wasn't yet strong enough to take down Mephisto directly, Leon decided to play along, pretending to cooperate until the time was right to strike.
"In addition, the anchor to the Hell dimension has passed Sky Blade's inspection. It's genuine, but it also contains Mephisto's beacon. Every time you travel to Hell, Mephisto will receive a signal..." Keisha explained.
Leon listened without surprise. While Mephisto's offer of cooperation was real, his nature as a manipulator meant there were undoubtedly traps hidden within the deal.
"Can the signal be blocked?" Leon asked.
"Yes," Keisha replied. "The coordinates have already been recorded. You can teleport to Hell independently using Sky Blade's remote terminal."
With that confirmation, Leon knew he had the upper hand. Mephisto's tricks were expected, but Leon's own plans were already in motion.
If you don't need to use it now, keep it in plain sight for Mephisto. When the time is right, that small detail will be his downfall, Leon thought to himself.
As the night's events came to a close, Leon stretched his body. The battle had served as a test of his recent training. As he suspected, the Sky Blade's performance had reached an incredible level, it was truly a bug. The Angel Battleship's combat power was estimated to be at least at the Quasi-Skyfather level. Real-time monitoring of the Sky Blade ensured the most efficient training, and the rate at which his strength was growing was astonishing.
Bang!
Leon's body shifted into photons, transforming into a beam of golden light that shot into the sky. Within seconds, he traveled thousands of meters before gently descending like a feather, landing smoothly.
Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov quickly approached as Leon landed in front of them. Behind them, the younger members of the group stood hesitantly, unsure whether to follow. They had witnessed Leon's god-like presence firsthand—his power splitting the sky and forcing a demon like Mephisto to submit.
Despite their usually cheerful personalities, the teens instinctively feared Leon's immense strength. They felt more at ease around Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov because of the time they had spent together in the RV, which built a sense of familiarity.
Leon smiled warmly. "You did well, but it's a shame the opponent you faced this time was quite strong," he said, patting Pietro and Sumarokov on the shoulders. Then, he gently ran his fingers through Wanda's soft hair, speaking to her with a soft tone.
Wanda closed her eyes, clearly enjoying the affectionate gesture.
Pietro couldn't help himself and asked, "Boss Leon, was that really the devil who rules Hell?"
Leon nodded. "It's exactly who you're thinking of."
Pietro scratched his head in confusion. "He didn't seem all that strong." In his mind, Mephisto—despite being powerful—didn't live up to the terrifying reputation he'd imagined. Sure, he was stronger than Pietro, Sumarokov, and Wanda combined, but nothing like the legendary devil he expected.
Leon chuckled and knocked Pietro on the head gently. "That was just a projection of his soul. Not even 1% of his real power. And don't underestimate anyone who uses magic."
Pietro, Sumarokov, and Wanda were some of the most formidable beings on Earth, especially Pietro, who could move several times the speed of sound. His abilities were so overwhelming that almost no one on Earth could rival him, except for maybe psychics like Professor X. Even Magneto had to be careful around Pietro's speed and strength.
Pietro was no ordinary speedster—he had two forms of Haki, mastery over breathing techniques, and had been injected with Sky Blade's Super Soldier Serum. This made him an incredibly enhanced version of Quicksilver. His physical durability and high-speed movement were unparalleled, and several times the speed of sound wasn't even his limit. As time passed, Leon knew Pietro's speed would keep increasing, potentially reaching the speed of light.
But even with all his strength, Pietro knew magic was a tricky thing. "On the magic side," Leon explained, "strength can be deceptive. You can be the strongest warrior, but one well-placed spell could end you. Never underestimate a skilled mage."
It was a lesson Pietro and the others took to heart. Magic wasn't just about raw power—it was often about precision, subtlety, and traps. And Leon, with his deep experience, never allowed those around him to take magic lightly.
Pietro winced as Leon scolded him, immediately losing his usual swagger. He looked more like a student being reprimanded by a strict teacher.
"Leon, about earlier..." Wanda began hesitantly.
Leon smiled warmly. "We'll talk later," he reassured her. His gaze then shifted to Jeff and the others, who were buzzing with excitement. He couldn't help but notice the way three girls were eyeing Pietro and Sumarokov. Leon raised an eyebrow playfully and teased, "Looks like you made some new friends."
He emphasized the words "new friends," making Pietro and Sumarokov exchange awkward shrugs.
After the teasing, Leon approached Jeff and his group, greeting them with a friendly, "Hey guys, good evening."
"Hey man! You and Wanda, Pietro... you guys really blew our minds today!" Jeff exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement and even cracking a little. His friends stood there nodding eagerly, equally awestruck.
Leon gave them an apologetic smile. "Sorry you had to witness something you probably weren't supposed to see, but you all seem to be handling it pretty well."
"NO, NO, NO," Jeff interrupted, shaking his head quickly. "Don't apologize! You showed us the real truth about this world. You're amazing, really." He paused for a moment before adding seriously, "But don't worry, if this is something you want to keep quiet, we'll make sure it stays a secret."
"Ha, well, thank you very much then," Leon said with a chuckle.
"No, no, you don't need to thank us!" Jeff responded, waving his hands frantically as if Leon had said something outrageous. His exaggerated expression made Leon pause for a moment in surprise.
"No?" Leon asked.
Jeff's said with a smile. "Actually, yeah, we should thank you. For letting us watch a free live-action movie."
Then Jeff's face turned serious to Leon's surprise, "You and your team are out there fighting monsters hidden in human society, right?"
Leon blinked, a bit taken aback. "Well, that's one way to put it," he admitted, 'impressed' by Jeff's intuition.
Jeff's eyes lit up, his suspicions confirmed. "Exactly! You're out here walking in the darkness, protecting people from these powerful, evil forces without anyone knowing. We really should be thanking you."
"Yeah," his friends chimed in, nodding like a chickens pecking at rice.
Having seen Mephisto's terrifying power firsthand, they couldn't help but feel even more grateful that Leon and Wanda were fighting beings of that magnitude.
They couldn't help but think that if Leon hadn't shown up in time, Wanda, Pietro, and Sumarokov might have been in serious danger when facing Mephisto. How many times had they found themselves in similar situations before?
Images flashed through their minds—memories of past crises. On another quiet night, in a dark, secluded alley, a young man in a red coat with white lining lay battered and bruised. Blood spilled from the corner of his mouth as he lay motionless in the dirty, muddy alley. The walls around him bore the scars of battle, and not far away, the lifeless body of a demon lay as a grim reminder of the struggle.
Soon after, several figures rushed toward him—his companions. Their faces were struck with grief, as if lightning had pierced their hearts. One of them knelt down, cradling the boy's lifeless body, red-eyed and fighting back tears. The others stood in silent sorrow, gently placing a hand on the shoulder of their grieving friend.
Meanwhile, one companion worked to clean up the battlefield, while the others disappeared into the shadows, carrying their fallen friend. In the distance, faint sirens wailed, too late to be of any help.
No one knew that a hero, who had silently protected humanity, had died that night. On the distant streets, people continued to enjoy their nightlife, blissfully unaware. The contrast was enough to break anyone's heart.
Jeff and his friends imagined something like this happening, and their eyes flooded with tears. Leon, noticing their emotional state, looked confused.
He wasn't sure what was going through their minds, but he could see they looked at him with admiration and sorrow. Their expression seemed to say, You don't need to explain—I understand.