Chapter 119

"My, my, what an interesting group of people," the Demon Lord said with a hint of excitement in his voice, causing Xain, Mar, Even, Mincs, and even Orian to instinctively step back. "You even managed to kill Bilmoth. Very impressive," he continued, his gaze lingering on Bilmoth's corpse. 

"Lord Malvorr," the demon addressed him, anger thinly veiled in its voice. Xain turned to the demon in shock. *Lord?* he thought, before looking back at the man—or rather, the Demon Lord.

"A fledgling, how surprising," Malvorr remarked, raising an eyebrow. "You must be the one that angel was rambling on about. Tell me, what reason do you possibly have to help this world?" he asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

*What is he talking about?* wondered everyone except Xain and Grace, failing to understand the Demon Lord's words.

"My contract," the demon replied, morphing its left arm into a blade.

"Your contract? You do realize any and all contracts made with beings from Hell are void when Hell invades the world where the contractor resides, right?" Malvorr asked, dismissively waving his right hand, which still glowed with vibrant red demonic energy. Then, a smirk broke across his face. "Don't tell me you caught feelings for mortals. I know some of them are quite exquisite, but they are fragile and break quite easily."

His smirk caused unease in everyone except the demon, The Fiend, and Grace, who scoffed. "You sure love to hear yourself speak, don't you?" Malvorr's eyes slowly shifted to her. "Don't look down on 'mortals' when you failed to take down one in a fight," she continued, taunting the Demon Lord.

"Pft," Malvorr tried to hold in his laughter. "Ah, ha, ha! You think I tried when fighting the two of you?" he said, pointing at Grace and The Fiend. "I have yet to use my true ability. You just fought me while I held back," he said before smiling once more and looking over everyone again. "Don't worry, I won't use it on any of you either. I don't want any of you to die quickly, after all," he said as the air around him grew tense and he radiated malevolent energy. "No, no. I'm going to draw this out as much as I can," he declared, sending chills down their spines.

The demon was the first to charge, leaping towards Malvorr with its blade arm pulled back, ready to stab. Grace, meanwhile, aimed her palm at Malvorr's head. As the demon thrust its blade forward, Grace shot out a beam of light. Malvorr, however, spun forward with alarming speed, dodging both attacks. He landed a spinning back fist to the demon's spine while it was still mid-air, sending it crashing into the ground in a bloody, broken mess that cracked the cobblestone. 

Xain and the others who had fought Bilmoth widened their eyes in shock. *I couldn't even see him move!* was the thought racing through their minds. Malvorr, nonchalantly fixing his already perfect collar, smirked. "Come on, you tried that on me already," he said, turning to Grace. "Don't have any more tricks?" he mocked.

Grace clicked her tongue in annoyance and touched The Fiend, who stood next to her, his body emanating a faint glow. The Fiend looked confused while Grace's eyes remained fixed on the Demon Lord. *This is going to be hard without being able to see his thoughts,* she thought. Her gift for viewing thoughts didn't work on someone who could grant them.

"Attack him with everything you have, or else Xain could get hurt," Grace whispered to The Fiend. He froze, turning his head to her. Grace briefly glanced at The Fiend, whispering, "I know," before focusing back on Malvorr. The Demon Lord yawned. "Come on, get it moving. I have to get to torturing you all, after all," he said casually.

The Fiend turned back to Malvorr, emanating Killing Intent. "Oh, looks like you're getting worked up again," Malvorr remarked as The Fiend charged towards him at blinding speed, momentarily surprising the Demon Lord. "Fast," he commented as The Fiend's serrated claws narrowly missed his chest. "But not fast enough," he declared, swinging his left fist towards The Fiend's head. 

A snap echoed, and Malvorr's fist hit nothing but air as The Fiend disappeared. Malvorr smiled as another snap was heard, turning to block Grace's kick with his right hand, grabbing her left leg. "Nice trick. Too bad I fought someone with it before," he said, swinging Grace towards the ground. She snapped again, blinking away from his grasp.

"You weren't even shocked by the fact that I grabbed you," Malvorr said, turning to face Grace, who glared at him while The Fiend stood ready to attack again. "You're not normal at all, are you?" he continued with a smirk, eyeing Grace up and down.

Everyone else watching couldn't move. It wasn't due to fear, though that definitely played a part. Nor was it the nonsensical feeling they'd experienced when they were going to face the dragon. No, it was the stark realization that their actions didn't matter. They felt it in their very souls. They were inconsequential in this fight. 

*Shit! Why the hell did I come here?* Orian thought, frustration bubbling within him. He was supposed to be The Deadliest Man in Aetheria, yet here he was, unable to do anything but watch—just a spectator, nothing more. It infuriated him. He knew he wasn't one of The Strongest by a long shot, but to see so many others, who weren't The Strongest either, surpass him was rage-inducing.

Suddenly, another sky-piercing roar diverted their attention. The dragon continued its battle against the mysterious man. "Hmm, he's stealing the spotlight, isn't he?" Malvorr said aloud. Slowly, he raised his glowing red hand and aimed it as if sighting a target. "Let's take care of that, shall we?" he added, bringing his index finger, middle finger, and thumb together.

"Krazulik," he intoned.

Without warning, as the dragon prepared to unleash its hellfire breath once more, a vibrant red portal dripping with demonic energy materialized beside it. From the portal emerged a massive, dragon-sized demonic creature resembling a crocodile, with obsidian scales, tar skin and four bright orange slit eyes. Its maw gaped wide as it bit down on the dragon's midsection. The dragon's crimson, amber, and ebony scales cracked under the pressure. Blood spurted out as the dragon let out a roar of agony, its body split in half by the creature's single bite. The dragon's death was gruesome and swift, its two halves falling to the ground with a thunderous crash.

"Done," Malvorr declared, lowering his hand as the demonic creature disappeared back through the portal. The spectators—excluding the demon who was busy healing itself, The Fiend who didn't fully grasp the dragon's power, and Grace who seemed to expect this—were stunned.

"Just like that?" Xain muttered aloud in disbelief.

Malvorr chuckled. "Just like that," he said with a shrug. The display of raw power cemented the understanding of the formidable being they were up against. Tension filled the air, hearts pounding with fear and a sense of hopelessness.

This sense was abruptly shattered when Xain heard an enthusiastic voice beside him. "That was so cool!" Xain jumped and turned to see the mysterious man with the person in his arms standing next to him with a very enthusiastic look on his face.

(Next Chapter: The Wandering Calamity Vs The Malevolent Lord!)