"It's finally starting... If we drag this out any longer, his Divine Body will probably be completely eroded."
"By the time it takes him a few thousand years to recover, that would be the least of our problems, but at this critical juncture, without him, I can't hold back these things on my own."
In the second layer of Hell, Mephisto held a silver mirror aloft in a secluded airspace.
Of course, he was still in the Nine Hells and had never truly joined the battle; after all, as a mortal who was promoted, he was far from comparable to those innate deities.
To truly familiarize himself with being a quasi-god-like entity, Mephisto still had much to complete, like the simplest thing—he still did not have any sort of authoritative item.
The second layer of Hell had indeed brought him power, but that was all. Compared to the God of Meteorology, who came with his own provisions, this place was still in its primal state as a realm, not on the same level as the other layers at all.
