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"Fireball!"
Without hesitation, I unleashed the fireball spell at full force. Yes, I had sworn to focus only on water and earth elemental magic, but come on, could I even call myself a true mage if I didn't know fireball? The spell scroll was practically a rite of passage, and it had been just sitting there in my treasure for more than five years, waiting to be used. Besides, I knew I could acquire fire affinity, just as I had with earth—all I needed was the right creature to devour.
In an instant, more than a dozen massive fireballs, each about four meters in diameter, erupted into existence, orbiting around me like a blazing storm.
Under Turom's astonished eyes, more than a dozen huge fireballs fired towards him.
Boom! Boom! Boom!...
Then there was a violent explosion.
After the flames dissipated, only half of Turom's body was left lying on the ground, trying to stand up.
The demon bloodline was also constantly trying to heal itself.
Suddenly, there was a burst of wind, and I appeared behind Turom and bit down.
Click~
Turom's body and head were separated!
His incomplete body was crushed by my armor-piercing teeth, and then a mouthful of acid went down to completely corrode it.
At this point, all that remained of Turom was his head, his bloodshot eyes staring at me.
"Can you still heal yourself? Now I will fight with you in close quarters!"
I stepped on Turom's head and said slowly.
---
Turom looked at Barbatos calmly.
Even with only one head left, he wasn't completely dead.
This showed the tenacity of the demon's vitality, but he was not far from death now.
"You still retain so much strength; I won't be wronged!" Turom smiled wryly.
He thought that he had already overestimated the black dragon enough, but he didn't expect it was not enough.
That strange sound wave that interrupts casting, as well as earth-type magic and fire-type magic, and strange breathing.
'I don't know what other cards he holds.'
And this dragon gave him the feeling that he was too cautious; simply speaking, he was afraid of death.
Obviously, he could tear himself apart with his powerful body, but he still used some tricks…
---
"Is your entire family descended from devils, or is it some kind of contract?" I asked curiously.
"Our Voltan family has many direct descendants, each of which can awaken different bloodlines of the devil, so I have no comment on the others!" Turom said slowly.
I let go of the paw that was on Turom's head.
I knew what Turom meant, and I could only get this information about the Voltan family.
"I understand you and admire you very much!"
"Do you have anything else to say?" I asked.
"It's my long-cherished wish to die for the Voltan family in my life; please help me to get rid of it!" Turom looked away from everything before he died.
---
This black dragon is really weird; it makes him feel like he is talking to a human instead of a dragon!
I looked down at Turom and didn't speak anymore, but opened my mouth wide and sprayed a white high-temperature breath towards Turom's head.
The head slowly returned to its human form under the influence of the high temperature and then melted into black ash…
---
Turom felt his mind slipping away, his thoughts gradually retreating into the embrace of a distant past, as if the weight of the present had begun to dissolve...
"Turom, what's your ideal?" A red-haired girl, no older than five or six, asked him with innocent curiosity. They stood together in a sprawling green field, the sun bathing them in golden light. She looked up at him with wide, bright eyes, the kind that held no worry, only wonder.
"My ideal?" The blond boy beside her repeated, pausing as though searching for the words that had been spoken to him many times before. "To strengthen the Voltan family and make it the most powerful house in the entire land!" he declared, mimicking the tone of his elders. The goal felt grand and important, something worthy of being repeated.
The little girl frowned in concentration, but soon her expression brightened. "Then my ideal is to make the Voltan family the most powerful house on the continent too!" Her voice held all the seriousness a child could muster, her fists clenched tightly as though she could will their shared destiny into existence.
"Then that's our shared ideal!" the boy proclaimed, extending his hand toward her.
She smiled, reaching out to grasp it. Together, hand in hand, they began walking toward the horizon. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of crimson and gold, its warm light casting long shadows across the field. There was something peaceful in the air, a quiet that wrapped around them, though somewhere distant, faint sounds of turmoil—almost like the cries of distant voices—began to rise. But neither noticed. Their eyes were fixed on the horizon, on the warm afterglow that seemed to beckon them forward.
In that moment, Turom's heart felt light, unburdened by the future. This was his final memory—walking toward the setting sun with the red-haired girl beside him. He was safe. He was at peace.
And yet, beneath the warmth that surrounded them, something else lingered. A presence, quiet but undeniable, like a soft whisper on the edge of perception. It was not cold or terrifying; rather, it was warm and inviting. A gentle pull, as if the world itself was welcoming him into its arms.
For those who sought power, youth, or beauty, many turned to the gods for blessings, or to dragons for their ancient bloodlines. Some made pacts with demon lords and archdevils, seeking to hold onto the fleeting pleasures of life. In exchange for promises of immortality, power, and worship, they sacrificed their souls, believing that what they gained would outshine what was lost. But everything had its price.
The warmth that enveloped Turom was no ordinary warmth. It was deeper, more all-encompassing, like the embrace of something far older, far more powerful than the life he had known. There was no fear in it—just a slow, steady realization that this warmth would carry him somewhere else.
The sky deepened in its crimson hue, the light of the sun melting into the earth, and as the horizon darkened, the distant cries became more like whispers, soft and beckoning. The heat that surrounded Turom now was comforting, almost tender, as if the flames themselves welcomed him with open arms.
He could feel it—something shifting. But the memory of the red-haired girl beside him, the green fields, and the endless sky remained vivid in his mind, untouched by anything darker. This was the last moment he clung to, a perfect scene frozen in time.
And as the world around him softened into the warmth of that embrace, he understood—though not consciously—that this was his welcome. The flames, the heat—they weren't burning. They were carrying him. He was being accepted.
The law of One.
It lingered, faint but ever-present, not bound to any realm. The law that whispered every debt must be paid. It was not a punishment, not a cruel fate. It simply was. Whether in life or beyond, this truth followed all things. And now, as Turom drifted toward the endless warmth, he would fulfill his part in that eternal balance.
The past, the peace, the fire—it all became one.
Some say, "It's just Hell—what's the worst that could happen?" But they have no idea what true eternal damnation entails, nor the horrors of the infernal realms. In the first layer of Hell, where souls are not merely imprisoned but broken, each moment becomes an unbearable eternity. They are subjected to every imaginable form of torture—and far worse. Pain, both physical and mental, is woven into the very fabric of existence, as fires burn not just the flesh but the soul. Here, there is no respite, no end, just the ceaseless cycle of torment. Time distorts as the condemned are flayed, twisted, and reshaped by horrors beyond comprehension. In Avernus, the fires are warm only in mockery, as they scorch through hope itself, turning eternity into an abyss where suffering is without limits, and mercy is nothing but a forgotten dream.
The law of One.
---
I looked at the messy battlefield, and I felt that the matter would not end like this.
Devils are not that simple, especially this kind of crazy guy.
Just thinking of Turom gives me a headache.
Generally speaking, people in high positions do not work so hard.
After all, this is the time to enjoy it. Killing people is the business of the lower class, let alone the extremely selfish beings like devils.
At this time, Shadar, who was in a hurry, ran over with several injured forest trolls.
"Master, the subordinates are late!"
Winnie also emerged from the air, followed by Danylan, who started healing trolls to speed up the regeneration process.
"Lord, all the 37 escaped humans are here!" Shadar and the other trolls carried several heads on their backs.
Among them, Shadar memorized the most.
"Very good. Next time, you don't need to hold the enemy's head. Let's clean the battlefield now!" I stopped thinking and looked at Shadar and said.
"Follow the master!"
Shadar said excitedly.
It's just that he doesn't quite understand why the master doesn't like the head of the enemy. This is a symbol of the warrior's glory. Shadar himself has collected a lot of prey skulls and usually wears all the skulls on his body during grand festivals.
Then I watched as a group of troll warriors pulled the armor and clothing off all the corpses. Some even tried to put it on themselves. I felt a little hot when I looked at a troll who was pulling the underwear off the corpse.
Winnie and Danylan looked at all this with disdain. Compared with the half-beasts, these forest trolls were still behaving like they could have all these things as much as they wanted, or it was just a lack of brain cells.
"The main thing is to take some armor and weapons; the rest is not important!" I reminded.
"As ordered!"
Shadar patted his chest and immediately grinned. He was seriously injured this time and almost died.
"Lord, will the Magic Iron Mine continue to mine?" Danylan keenly noticed that I seemed to have something unspeakable on my mind.
"Stop mining for the time being. Let the goblins and kobolds close the mine and travel to the Dragon Nest while transporting all mined ore stored around to the mine there as soon as possible!" I quickly made a decision.
From the fact that they were able to accurately find the ore veins and the orc tribes, it can be seen that the magic iron ore veins have been targeted. With the opponent's idea that it is inevitable, this is a place of right and wrong. After a few more feasts, no matter what the strength of the Voltan family is, they will have to kneel down and sing of conquest!
It's a pity that the main ingredients are hard to find! If it's just an ordinary feast, then a lot of ore and gold coins are needed to increase the life value.
For a moment, I regretted that there were no dregs left from the burning of Turom. Devil ingredients should be very powerful! But Turom was exhausted, and there should not be much demon blood in his body. In this case, I will probably not qualify to be a staple food.
By the way, this guy has a very high status; there should be some good things in his magic tool!
'Nani!'
'Don't be burned to ashes!'
I hurriedly flew to the place where Turom died and began to search with my claws. The magic device is not very strong; after being destroyed, the contents inside will be lost in the turbulent flow of space and can no longer be found.
...
Voltan City.
Among the Voltan family, Victor looked at the statue in front of him and sighed.
"Turom is dead! Do you feel it?"
The strange thing is that there is only Victor, the head of the house, in the house at this time. A slightly mocking voice came from the darkness.
"When he dies, he dies. He deserves to die. Don't you say you will be sad because of this? As I already claimed his soul."
"Turom is different. He is the best talent in our Voltan family. Even an Argus can't compare to Turom!" Victor's eyes showed murderous intent.
"You have to know that he is all thanks to you today. What kind of family glory? I didn't expect that you could brainwash a demon with such a strong bloodline into such a state! Human emotions are really strange!"
"You'll never understand!" Victor turned and walked out.
"Tsk tsk tsk, if you still hold this mentality, then I guarantee that even if you succeed in transformation, there will be no scum left!"
After speaking, there was no more sound in the darkness. Victor paused for a moment and left.
'Turom, my brother! I will not let your sacrifice be in vain!'
Victor's eyes slowly changed, and his irises were completely black!
A special kind of magic had already been planted on Turom's body by Victor in some way. And their human blood is close to the same origin, so it is easy to cast.
This kind of magic from the devil allows Victor to briefly sense some of the scenes that Turom thought or saw before he was alive.
As more and more black magic power slowly emerged in Victor's eyes, the scene in front of him also changed. But there were only three scattered pictures.
The first picture is of a ferocious black dragon descending from the sky; that violent figure rushed into the team in an instant and started killing.
In the second scene, the black dragon rushed into the team, and Victor watched as the black dragon almost wiped out the entire team.
In the end, Turom used the secret medicine to stimulate the blood and prepared to fight to the death. Victor felt his neck go cold at this moment. He knew that Turom had been beheaded. The desperation and pain after being beheaded made Victor empathize.
And the third picture is a pair of boys and girls walking hand in hand in the green field. Victor felt very sad seeing this scene. But his strong willpower brought him back to his senses quickly.
Although there are not many pictures, Victor also analyzed some information.
First of all, Turom and the others were attacked by the black dragon king, probably many times. It can be felt from the exhausted state of those soldiers. This black dragon should be an adult, yet Victor happened to meet an adult black dragon by chance.
But this black dragon is extremely powerful, and all aspects of him are more terrifying than adult black dragons. The terrifying destructive power shocked Victor's heart a little.
In the end, Turom didn't even have a Holy Shield of Brutality beside him, which meant that Turom used all the Holy Shields of Brutality when the opponent attacked for the first time and set them free. Victor guessed that, in this case, the Aegis of Brutality should have repelled the opponent by virtue of its liberated state.
***
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