Chapter 215: Devoured By Fear And Virus!

Why is this happening?

Ian looked at the figure before him in utter disbelief. Just moments ago, this being had exuded pure arrogance and absolute dominance—a demon god of hell, a Duke of Hell. According to what he knew of the Red Star Mental Hospital, this demon commanded twenty-six legions of hell, controlling countless devils at his command. Even the weakest of those devils could have crushed him effortlessly, without a sliver of doubt.

Yet here, the sixteenth demon god of hell—the very creature he loathed yet feared for its overwhelming power and bloodline—now trembled before Novak. A single kick had silenced his bold words, leaving him prostrate and pleading.

"My lord, have mercy!"

The voice of the Duke of Hell, usually filled with menace, now betrayed abject terror, each word muddled by a raw, unguarded fear. His language, once haughty and distant, was now a frantic blend of words Ian couldn't understand and a panicked dialect of his mother tongue. All of it seemed to mean only one thing: 'Spare me.'

But how could this be? Novak, for all his strength, was still just an evolutionary. Why would such a fearsome existence—one of hell's most powerful beings—beg for his life before another evolutionary?

Ian couldn't comprehend it. Zezelia was just as lost, and Yuzuru's only reaction was her usual awe for her master.

Meanwhile, Novak observed the cowering Duke of Hell with curiosity. This was their first meeting; they hadn't even crossed paths before now. And yet, the terror on Duke of Hell's face was unmistakable.

"How did you manage to inspire such fear in them?" Novak asked, clearly amused.

"Honored Novak, you've asked this question before," came a familiar voice in Novak's mind. "But the answer remains unchanged: at all times, strength is the universal truth."

It was Satan's voice, echoing as it had before when facing Aga Reiss, the Eternal Night Monarch of the 500th layer. And now, in the same way, it seemed to subdue even the Duke of Hell. From this, one could only imagine the extent of Hell's king's power at his peak.

The moment the voice resounded, the Duke of Hell flinched, lowering his head in shock and disbelief. Novak hadn't anticipated the immense terror Satan would provoke in a demon like the Duke of Hell. But he didn't rely on Satan's deterrence alone. He simply looked at the once-proud Devil Duke before him, who now behaved like a chastened child.

"I'll give you one chance. Make your move," Novak said calmly. "Your body may die, but your soul still holds value—so you might yet survive…"

The words the Duke of Hell had earlier spoken to Ian were now returned to him, word for word. Yet, whereas Duke of Hell had wielded those words like a weapon to taunt Ian, here, they came as a reluctant mercy from Novak—a mercy that, to the Duke of Hell, felt like a precious reprieve.

The Duke of Hell was baffled. Why had the Crown Prince(Satan), long thought lost to time, reappeared—and what was his connection to this strange human? Could this human actually be 'him'?

There was so much the Duke of Hell couldn't understand. But the trial ground of gods and demons wasn't a place where he could linger on questions. It was time to act, as ordered.

'Make his move?' 

The Duke of Hell could scarcely imagine daring to raise his hand against the figure before him. But a tempting thought crept into his mind: 'What if I killed him? What if…'

The Duke of Hell's inherent devilish cunning and greed began to overpower his fear. After all, it was this figure who had given him permission to attack...

In an instant, hellfire blazed blood-red around him, consuming him from within. And even though the Cosmic Will restrained him, at this moment, the Duke of Hell reclaimed the terror and grandeur of the sixteenth demon god of hell.

At the very least, he was a terrifying Duke of Hell on par with an Emperor Evolutionary.

Ian was gripped by a panic beyond words.

The burning blood-red flames—the flames of hell—embodied the devil's most powerful force, a mastery shared by all devils. He sensed that this hellfire could even scorch the spirit itself. The ability to wield these flames alongside his mind, to burn the very essence of spirit and soul, was a threat beyond what Ian dared confront. Such overwhelming terror left him paralyzed.

Yet, despite the menace before them, that figure stood unwaveringly at their front, shielding them all.

Mysterious, powerful, and now, indescribably majestic.

For as the blood-red flames surged forward, this figure did not flinch but instead extended a single finger, calm and unyielding.

And with just that motion, a reverberating sense of dread pulsed through the Duke of Hell's heart.

Blood-red hellfire shrouded his form, but instead of comfort, it brought only an eerie unease. At the figure's fingertip glowed a dark green speck of light—a miniature, emerald-like glimmer laced with the shadow of death.

In the midst of the red flames and beneath his crimson armor, the sudden, black-green luminescence made the Duke of Hell's body freeze in place. His scarlet eyes, locked in disbelief on the figure before him, appeared nearly overwhelmed, tainted momentarily by shadows of dark green under the flickering light.

"No! Your Majesty, please spare me! Cough... cough..."

A violent cough spread through the air as flames enveloped him, each breath escalating his panic.

Novak looked on, his gaze falling over the Duke of Hell's kneeling figure, now engulfed by fear and weakness.

'Is the Duke of Hell powerful?'

Indeed, he is exceptionally strong, as a high-level entity repressed by the Cosmic Will. And yet, perhaps even a random level-20 boss might have posed a greater challenge.

The reason was simple—fear had devoured his spirit, leaving him with barely a fraction of his original power.

As he stared at the trembling figure kneeling before him, Novak's voice turned cold.

"I'm very disappointed. If hell is filled with people like you, then it means nothing to me. As for you, you lack even the merit to be my training stone. I've waited long enough.

If fear has stripped you of even your instinct to resist, then leave your soul here and embrace your end."

Dark spots of death closed in, enveloping the Duke of Hell in an instant. Black-light virus tendrils shot through, stripping away his spirit and soul.

In the eyes of those present, what had once been a seemingly balanced confrontation concluded decisively in an instant.