Chapter 1177
Within seconds, the Abyssal Demon King's body was covered in wounds, magma-like blood spurting out incessantly. The thick stench of sulfur and scorching heat surged wildly, distorting the very space around him.
Anderson and Theo unleashed their most powerful abilities as soon as they appeared, suppressing the Abyssal Demon King, while Leon raised his Dragon Staff and chanted spells at breakneck speed.
One Four-Element Bomb after another was conjured, then rained down upon the Abyssal Demon King like a torrential downpour.
A barrage of explosions erupted—bursts of blazing light enveloped the Abyssal Demon King, the destructive force relentlessly tearing his body apart.
After unleashing a wave of Four-Element Bombs, Leon continued chanting, releasing Law Sigils one after another. The sheer number of sigils, for a moment, seemed almost ordinary, yet following the structure of Law Sigil construction, they formed a massive framework over a meter wide.
Even with just one framework—without any successful combination or transformation—the slightest power it brought far surpassed any Law Sigil Leon currently commanded.
Suddenly, a pitch-black spatial rift appeared. The Law Sigils combined into a massive, dark wind blade. Even before the spell fully formed, its immense power had already torn a gash in the fabric of space.
Below, the Abyssal Demon King was suppressed by Elemental Tempests and Firestorms, with the Four-Element Bomb barrage covering him in explosions. His enormous body was nowhere to be seen—only furious roars and agonized howls echoed from within the destructive forces.
“Foolish mortals, you will pay the price. With such feeble magic, you dream of destroying an Abyssal Demon King? How naïve. Your souls—I will savor them..."
The Abyssal Demon King's furious roars echoed out, leaving Gorsposi, who was watching from afar, utterly stunned.
It wasn't the Abyssal Demon King's overwhelming vitality that shocked him, but rather the power Leon was unleashing. Especially that pitch-black wind blade in the sky, seemingly formed from countless runes—it sent a mortal crisis surging through his soul, making his body instinctively want to flee.
Damn it, is this Leon Merlin's true strength?
What exactly is that wind blade? The spell hasn't even fully formed, yet its power can already tear open space—are you kidding me?
Leon Merlin isn't even a Sky Rank Expert yet—how could he cast a transcendent spell? Without the boost of transcendental power, how could a spell be this strong? This must be the strongest among all Ninth-Rank Spells.
The sense of mortal danger kept intensifying. Gorsposi even felt his soul warning him, urging him to escape—any longer and he really might die here, even if the wind blade's target was the Abyssal Demon King.
Gorsposi forced himself to summon a bit of battle energy, sweat streaming down his face as he bolted into the distance. Glancing back, he saw that pitch-black wind blade plummeting downward.
The wind blade wasn't particularly fast, but as it passed through, narrow spatial rifts kept appearing. The wild destructive forces along its path seemed to part, clearing the way for the blade as if by instinct.
In just two or three seconds, the wind blade appeared above the Abyssal Demon King's head. The terrifying sense of impending death made the demon king erupt in fury. He raised his double-headed halberd to block, but with a screeching sound, the weapon—supposedly forged from the hardest Abyssal Magisteel—suddenly snapped...
The pitch-black wind blade sliced down along the Abyssal Demon King's neck, scalding green blood spurting out like molten magma, corroding and burning everything around it.
Not even the Abyssal Demon King's thick hide could stop the wind blade from severing his neck...
A howl of pain and despair rang out as the massive head tumbled from the Abyssal Demon King's neck, green blood spurting skyward like a fountain for hundreds of meters.
Even decapitated, the Abyssal Demon King's eyes still burned with fury, his mouth unleashing anguished, wrathful roars.
Leon drifted down from midair, his expression calm, unsurprised that the Abyssal Demon King could survive even after being beheaded.
He took out a handful of materials, expertly concocted a blood-red potion, and tossed the vial straight into the Magma Pool atop the demon king's severed head.
Instantly, the searing green magma in the pool slowly turned red, then gradually cooled, finally solidifying into chunks of gray stone.
Only then did the Abyssal Demon King, shocked, begin to curse.
“Foolish human, you'll regret this! The Abyssal Demon King never truly dies. You'll pay dearly for your actions—just wait! Soon, I'll return for revenge, a merciless revenge!”
Leon let out a mocking laugh.
“Idiot. You're just a mutt rejected by both the Abyss and Hell. To be counted among the Golden Demon Race, all you've got is your absurd vitality. No matter how many times you die, you keep coming back.
If it weren't for that, the other demon races would have left you wallowing in your own filth. Honestly, how did a bunch as repulsive as you ever make it into the top ten Golden Demon Bloodlines? Must've been a clerical error in hell.
Spare me the comedy. Maybe I'll freeze that magma you call a brain and dig out your precious Second Heart. Immortal Abyssal Demon King? Now that's a punchline worthy of the abyss itself...
Leon let out a derisive snort, conjured two Mage's Hands, and plucked the solidified gray stone from the Abyssal Demon King's skull. Only then did the demon king realize the horror, but with its brain dangling outside its body, the flames in its eyes snuffed out. Death, or at least a convincing impression of it.
With a flick, Leon unleashed Detonation a dozen meters away, gouging a crater in the scorched earth. From the pit, a gray heart—no doubt the infamous Second Heart—was blasted into the open. So much for immortality.
The chapter's not over yet ^.^—if you're masochistic enough, click next page to keep reading.
The heart, no bigger than a fist, pulsed with thick abyssal magic. Each beat sent a fresh surge of demonic energy in and out—like a grotesque parody of life.
Gripping the heart as it writhed madly, Leon let a faint, sardonic smile curl across his lips.
Abyssal Demon King—for ages, the very name was synonymous with trouble and terror. Their appetite for souls was inherited straight from the devils of hell, and they've never bothered to hide it.
But their monstrous vitality is what really makes them infamous. Chop off their heads, and they still keep going. Even the other demons in the abyss have to grit their teeth and compromise.
Because you can never truly kill these stubborn freaks. Even if you occasionally manage to take down an Abyssal Demon King, tear its body to shreds, give it a few months, and it'll resurrect out of nowhere—then hunt you down with a vengeance that borders on suicidal.
Each time one of these freaks dies, they take a good number of enemies down with them. After two or three rounds, you can bet at least a couple of their peers are dragged to the grave as collateral damage.
Slowly, the legend of the unkillable Abyssal Demon King spread. Add to that their delightful habit of swallowing their enemies' souls, torturing them for centuries before finally letting them die.
Terror and persistence became their calling cards—even the Golden Demon Bloodlines of the abyss had to pinch their noses and begrudgingly accept the Demon King's place at the top.
It wasn’t until millennia later that the mages of Northend finally stretched their wicked hands into the abyss. Naturally, the legendary, unkillable Abyssal Demon King was at the top of their research hit list.
Some mages even surpassed the Heavenly Rank, ignited their divine fire, and personally captured a Heavenly Rank Abyssal Demon King for experimentation. Only then did they uncover the source of the demon king’s immortality.
Abyssal Demon Kings lack the signature demon horns; their exposed, magma-like brains aren’t their fatal flaw. Losing a head is no more serious to them than losing a hand.
Their true weakness is the Second Heart—just like devils from hell, it’s always the heart. But not the normal one. The real vulnerability is a fist-sized second heart that can travel anywhere in their body, serving as both their lifeline and the source of their abyssal magic.
When killed, the Second Heart quietly slips away. After absorbing enough magic, the Abyssal Demon King resurrects, good as new.
Now that Leon had the Second Heart, a dozen uses sprang to mind. The thing’s a powerhouse—endless magic, and it can even draw power from both the abyss and hell.
As for the magma solidified in the demon king’s skull? It’s prime material for volcanic potions. Even a Heavenly Rank powerhouse would feel the effects—five to ten minutes of boosted magic intensity, one whole grade higher.
Even the demon king’s blood is the best ink for writing lava scrolls—especially the kind suited for Heavenly Rank enchantments.
The demon king’s bloated, greasy body? The fat refined from it is even better than mermaid oil from the Endless Sea. As a perpetual flame, a single drop could burn for ten thousand years—no exaggeration, unlike the mermaid stuff that’s just legendary hearsay.
Not only is it a stable fire source for alchemy labs, but with the right reagents, it can become a potent fuel. The temperature spikes instantly, rivaling the flames Theo conjures. With enough of it, the explosive power easily surpasses even Theo’s best fire magic.
Leon set about harvesting every usable bit from the demon king’s corpse. Not far off, his army surged forward. Before the puppet legion even arrived, Xuban, Reina, and the mage corps had already charged in, tearing apart the orcs who’d been twisted into frenzied demons.
Gorsposi stood there, stunned, his eyes vacant. He never expected a mighty Abyssal Demon King—one of the top ten Golden Bloodlines—to be dispatched so easily...
Even the corpse was dissected for materials—treated no better than a magical beast.
When Leon finished collecting everything useful, he had Theo toss the remaining scraps into the Book of Ten Thousand Curses to fuel the flames.
Once the battlefield was cleared, Leon finally approached Gorsposi, whose strength still hadn’t recovered.
"Lord Gorsposi, given how things stand, isn’t it time to reveal the secrets you’ve been guarding? If this keeps up, the Blazeforge Realm will be lost for good."
Gorsposi gave Leon a complicated look, then sighed.
"Lord Merlin, thank you for saving me. If not for you, even my soul wouldn’t have returned to the earth after death.
You’re right. In these days since my return, I’ve realized that the Blazeforge Realm isn’t what it once was. If we want to save it from destruction, we have to cooperate with outsiders."
Leon said nothing, just listened. All he knew about the realm’s fate was the rough outcome—the details were a mystery.
And when it came to such things, the Golden Orcs—keepers of the realm’s deepest secrets—were certainly the ones who knew best.
"The ancient god-demon sleeping beneath the Sacred Mountain has awakened. No—more precisely, it’s half-awake. Its divine soul woke first, but its powerful body remains in slumber.
Its divine soul has attached itself to the Sacred Mountain—the very mountain we orcs worship. Now, it’s completely under the god-demon’s control.
From the Sacred Mountain, it manipulates the entire Blazeforge Realm. Magical beasts are out of control, all falling under the divine soul’s influence. Every last one has turned into a demon—a filthy abyssal creature.
Worse, the divine soul has opened countless Abyssal Gates. We have no idea how many demons and other abyssal creatures have poured into the realm.
Just look at the black smoke choking the sky—there’s no way to count how many filthy creatures are out there now.
The whole Blazeforge Realm is a battlefield now. No one knows where an abyssal demon might pop up next, or if a tamed beast will suddenly turn rabid and demonic.
We’re all heading for the Sacred Mountain, planning a counterattack to reclaim it. But just among the abyssal lords we’ve spotted, there are nearly twenty already. As for the top ten Golden Bloodline demons—this is the first time we’ve seen one in the flesh.
If not for Lord Merlin’s selfless help, I’d be dead—and my soul would never have found peace..."
Leon frowned, his mind swirling with questions.
What is that Seventy-Third Deity really playing at? How did a god-demon born of Northend end up so deeply entangled with the abyss?
Not only does it summon nothing but demons, but it can also turn magical beasts into demons. That’s a trick only the top abyssal demon lords can pull off.
The Sacred Mountain is the heart of the Blazeforge Realm’s origin—like the pillar holding up the sky itself.
Who’d have thought the divine soul would awaken first and attach itself to the Sacred Mountain? That’s even messier than if the whole god-demon had woken up at once.