Endless Debt

Chapter 1308 - 95: The Beginning of Conflict

This was an unexpected meeting; apart from Leviathan, neither Beelzebub nor Mammon were prepared in the least. For many years, the Devils had gone to great lengths to avoid direct conflicts with one another. Should any disagreements arise, they would resolve them through their Chosen Ones or affiliated forces.King does not meet King.

In the bloody cave, a stifling atmosphere rapidly ascended and solidified, as if countless heavy blocks of lead filled every inch of space. An invisible pressure was evenly applied to every part of each Devil’s body, as if they were entirely cast in viscous concrete.

"Are you serious, Leviathan?" Beelzebub posed with a feigned sincerity.

"Stop pretending, everyone, I’m weary of the endless probing, even more so with these disputes that resemble games over and over again."

Leviathan declared loudly, clenching his fists powerfully, as if delivering a grand pre-battle speech.

"We need a real war, different from before, a life-and-death confrontation!"

Mammon said nothing, countless faces flashing across his visage, but they all reflected a consistent, ghostly smile. He silently took a few steps back, allowing Leviathan and Beelzebub to confront each other, while he, like a bystander, awaited the outcome.

"Shut up! Do you think you know where you are right now?"

Beelzebub erupted in rage. This was her territory, and for Leviathan to recklessly come here personally and provoke her in such a manner was an unimaginable insult.

The blood surged and boiled, and waves of lamentations emerged from within, as if countless trapped creatures were struggling for rescue. The blood congealed and transformed into countless blades and swords wildly hacking and dancing in the air. They resembled a fierce army, advancing with ferocious determination and an evil aura, launching deadly attacks at any approaching threats.

The Blood Blades swung, producing piercing shrieks. Numerous in number and powerful, every cut and slash was accompanied by a realm of dead silence and mournful cries.

A crimson storm erupted from the ground, facing Leviathan head-on. He did not shy away, allowing the crimson storm to cleanse him.

Just as the tide-like Blood Blades were about to envelop Leviathan, the wandering school of fish abruptly accelerated, swimming endlessly around Leviathan’s body until pitch-black tar completely enveloped him.

A piercing howl suddenly broke out, countless Blood Blades slicing the already blood and flesh-covered ground. Blood sprayed forth, meat fragments scattered, the viscous tissue structures oozing like sludge, until carving out a bloody pit on the ground.

Beelzebub’s eyes reddened; rarely had she lost her composure like this over the years. Similarly, she had seldom been driven to such limits.

For many years, Leviathan had lurked in the shadows, swimming beneath a frozen sea surface like a school of fish. Until the moment he broke through the ice, no one could imagine what he was planning.

Now Leviathan had emerged, carrying with him the stench of blood and the precursor of war.

Suddenly, a strange sense of familiarity struck Beelzebub, as if re-living the past. It couldn’t help but make her recall the time she last faced Leviathan head-on.

Fall of the Holy City.

"At that time... we should have destroyed you completely," Beelzebub growled grimly, "not just replaced you, but utterly smashed you, corroded your authority, and devoured you piece by piece!"

Distorted laughter echoed from all directions, roaring back like thunder within the Flesh Cave.

In the blood-red storm, shadows writhed, and in the next moment, the black school of fish burst out of the storm, clashing against the ground, then exploding into vast patches of tar, covering the blood and flesh ground piece by piece. Soon, the scorching tar consumed more than half of the area.

Leviathan’s figure slowly rose within the tar. In Beelzebub’s eyes, he still wore that cumbersome, bizarre diving suit as if he had returned from the depths of the Abyss.

"Let’s find another place to talk, shall we?"

Leviathan said, glancing towards the silent Mammon. Mammon, still maintaining his smile, neither joined the battle between Leviathan and Beelzebub nor expressed any stance.

Everyone knew that Mammon, unlike the lazily passive Belphegor, was merely analyzing the advantages and disadvantages by staying out of it.

Once enough benefit and possibility presented themselves, Leviathan was confident that Mammon would unhesitatingly join Beelzebub’s assault against him.

Forget it, Leviathan stopped concerning himself with those complex matters. He had come here with only one purpose.

"Raise hell!"

Leviathan cheered, followed by the tar’s scream and boil. The pitch-black viscous liquid expanded little by little, corroding the surrounding blood and flesh earth. Vast shadowy fish swam out of the tar, colliding with other spots in the cave, leaving large patches of tar.

And so it went on.

The tar emitted a suffocating stench, like a release of evil energy from the deepest depths of the earth, continuously boiling, producing sounds akin to demonic murmuring.

The tar gradually spread, covering the entire cave bit by bit. It acted like a black membrane, devouring the light, plunging the entire space into boundless darkness, as though entering a void world, stripped of all sensation before being touched.

Beelzebub’s fury persisted, her blood forging blades, lances, and swords, yet they could never catch up to Leviathan’s descending figure. Mammon observed the conflict, then lifted his head towards the swiftly spreading tar, seemingly guessing Leviathan’s intentions, involuntarily emitting a series of hoarse laughs.