Bas King looked to his right toward the spot where there once was a beauty in all her iridescent glory and instead witnessed a middle-aged guy with quite the sinister mug. This guy looked like a classic cartoon character, down to the pointy moustachè and mad eyes.
As shocking as it was that this man appeared next to him with such ease and silence, Bas refused to react in the typical shock and bewilderment. What events in the mortal world could stun a Great Pharaoh? Bas didn't care for these parlor tricks and schemes. This was why he didn't bother exposing Brenda's little childish trick.
Bas casually turned his head back forward. He looked calm as if he had never seen or heard anyone. Anyone watching would think the Demon Lord was not even speaking to this young man but someone else entirely.
Even the Demon Lord had to pause to question his information. Was this confident brat really the Sebastian King who was rumored to be crippled and banished to the Mortal Realm with his closest of kin? Was there something wrong with the report?
One thing was for sure: this Bazzy Dagod didn't seem like someone to take lightly. He definitely had a backer and no regular backer at that.
"Young man, is your mother Eureka still doing well? Ah, to think being a King could be so dreadful. It's been ages since I've seen..."
Before the Demon Lord could continue his taunt, Bas was suddenly directly in front of the former's face. Bas could ignore anything but insults about his mother. He wouldn't give the bastard the time to provoke the former.
"Listen, you villainous hipster lunatic. The next time I hear the name 'King' come out of your mouth, it'd better be worth my time. What do you want with this young god, anyway?" Bas demanded imperiously, coldness radiating from his violet-golden eyes.
Eyes that only seemed to deepen the intrigue of the man before him.
"Those eyes...it seems you have even more trump cards that we haven't seen. Or perhaps, because you're at the eighth level Hunt Foundation, your methods are still underdeveloped? A pity," the Demon Lord smiled with indifferent eyes. "My name is Mongrel Fresco, but my associates refer to me as the Demon Lord of the Dirty Souf."
'Mongrel Fresco? The famous R&B singer my mother used to be so fascinated with back at the Beach? The Grand Hunter who was banished to Mortalee by my father due to one late-night visit to my mother? My, my...how scandalous. I wonder if this was also why we were banished...why does Sebastian know so much if he didn't suspect a thing?'
Bas felt the old Sebastian was too slow-witted.
"Wait, did you say the Demon Lord of the Dirty Souf?" Bas' eyes widened and then widened even more as his thoughts spun.
"That is correct. I am THE Mongrel Fresco, in the flesh," the Demon Lord smiled villainously, and Bas slid back by a step.
All the kids in school talked about this Demon Lord of the Dirty Souf. On one hand, his music spoke to the hearts of two generations. On the other hand, his underground influence and reputation far exceeded his music career. He was one of the most terrifying creeps hiding in the dark, the stuff kids have nightmares about.
'But what does he want with me?'
This guy's interest in himself was not without reason, but realizing that his information was so easily obtainable made Bas incredibly uncomfortable. Of course, Bas didn't know that the Demon Lord had always kept tabs on Eureka King. When he discovered the eldest son was the only child absent currently, he immediately made a guess.
'Who else but the son of that man and Eureka the Goddess could put on such a display in this Mortal Realm?'
This line of thinking prompted Mongrel to appear when the brat's little muse was out of the way.
He looked at Bas and said, "Sebastian, you have put on quite the display today. I presume you've awakened a battle spirit? You will need proper guidance to take full advantage of your talent. Your father failed you miserably due to petty jealousy. Your mother has done a fine job, but as you approach higher levels, you will need higher levels of training. Due to your family's cruelty, she can no longer fulfill this role."
The Demon Lord crossed his arms and closed his eyes, speaking sagaciously. It was almost as if he were already giving his disciple the first lesson.
"My mother?" Bas thought about his sick mother and the mysterious disease she had contracted not long after arriving in Little Kennesaw.
'Why does he keep bringing her up? It can't be unintentional, so that's out. Is it to lower my guard? Appeal to my hatred for the main family? Maybe threaten me? Or maybe...rekindle an old flame?'
Bas felt all these guesses could be wrapped up in this psycho conspiracy.
He knew his father never bothered to check on them and that such an illness should be nothing for a hunter of his father's caliber to expunge. In Bas' opinion, this so-called illness going unchecked could only mean that Bas, his mother, and his siblings had been abandoned by their father. These were the facts, no matter how they felt about him or his reasons for doing so.
"Your mother has always been such a gentle and pleasant woman," the Demon Lord closed his eyes once more and seemed to reminisce over the past. "Alas, that damn Nufurarru and his scheming. To think he would even poison the woman he loved just to control her!"
Bas grimaced. How long had he existed? He still had many of his deity senses, and lies were useless in front of him. He didn't believe anything this man said. It was all lies. He didn't present a single honest thought. But that last statement gave Bas a suspicion on a spiritual level.
"You..." A sudden pressure cut off Mongrel's words.
This pressure couldn't overwhelm him, but its significance was indeed a bit overwhelming.
Bas' body started releasing a powerful pressure at the level of a Sky Expert or someone at the upper levels of the Hunt Expert rank to the Demon Lord's shock and several spectators of the fights below.
"Poison? My mom...I can tell you mean it when you say she's poisoned," Violet embers started to form in Bas' atmosphere, which emerged blazing with growing intensity. He grabbed the handle of the butterfly knife on his hip and lowered his stance, saying, "My father is a lot of things. But he would never...EVER...poison my mother. But you..."
"What."
Bas' atmosphere exploded outwards as crystalized purple flames raged on his skin.
"Did you do..."
The butterfly knife slowly slid from its cover, only for the tip to be pointed mere centimeters from Mongrel Fresco's face. Ghost-like, dark, and fiery scales seem to fade in and out of existence on the surface of his physique.
"TO MY MOTHER!"
Bas King wanted to immediately execute Evil Dragon's Claw combined with Evil Dragon's Flight, but Mongrel Fresco suddenly appeared at his back and chopped down on Bas' neck. This simple action easily dispersed Bas' aura as it rendered him unconscious.
"Such an intuitive brat," Mongrel Fresco smiled in amusement.
The kid had seen straight through Mongrel in such a short time, with little to no forward information. The situation could have been hazardous for the Demon Lord if the brat had been a little stronger. Of course, the Demon Lord had no reason to admit the boy was correct.
'So she thinks her husband will save her. Even her brats still believe in that bastard.' Mongrel had intercepted all attempts of the King family to communicate with Hunter's Society. He couldn't risk Nufurarru discovering his movements. 'How stupid was that spoiled fucker to banish his family over me sneaking into her residence? He might as well hand over their marriage contract.'
Now, she was all alone in Mortalee, the Demon Lord's stomping grounds. Mongrel knew he would make that woman submit one way or another.
"Bazzy! Guards, to me!" Brenda's frantic voice called out from the distance.
The Demon Lord's smile faded as he knew his fun had ended. Anyway, he had already confirmed Bas' identity on his own.