Chapter 93: The Demon Kings Gather!
The pale-haired hero's gaze held a trace of pity.
"My target is not you. If you leave now, I will not pursue the matter further."
"Are you joking!?"
Athena's rage flared at those words. Her eerie Medusa Evil Eye activated, and heaven and earth were instantly plunged into darkness. A curtain of night fell as if to swallow everything, yet it alone was unable to corrode the "King of the End." From that slender, upright body, a white-gold divine light erupted, preventing the darkness from spreading.
The scene looked exactly like a battle between a powerful hero and a demon from a storybook. Facing such a formidable "King of the End," Athena bit her lip and ultimately had no choice but to flee.
With no intention of giving chase, Rama gripped the "Salvation Dungeon Blade," his eyes not even sparing a glance at the fleeing goddess. For the only ones he wished to see now were those "Godslayers."
"I never fall, I never die... Godslayers, my hunt for you shall continue until the end of time!"
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At this very moment, the global natural disasters brought about by the awakening of the King of the End plunged nations into crisis. Among them, Japan—being the closest to the King of the End—was the most unfortunate.
The Japanese Natural Disaster Observation Bureau had devolved into a mess of chaos. Countless people were making frantic phone calls, staring in horror at the real-time data on their screens. This was a newly established department in Japan. Not long ago, volcanic environments worldwide had begun to fluctuate; nearly every country had established similar departments.
Today, this Japanese department detected anomalies in every volcano within the national borders. Since Japan sits at the junction of continental plates, it has been plagued by natural disasters since ancient times. While this has brought great sorrow to the Japanese people, it also means their disaster response for earthquakes and similar events is the most advanced in the world.
Yet even so, they could only stand paralyzed in panic.
"Can someone tell me why every volcano in Japan has become active? Mount Fuji and Mount Aso are in a state where they could erupt at any second!"
The Director's finger trembled as he pointed at the data on the screen. This was no ordinary volcanic eruption; it felt more like a venting of the Earth's subterranean energy. If a full-scale eruption occurred, half of Japan would likely be destroyed in the catastrophe.
Recently, Japan had truly been beset by misfortune. Not long ago, the battle between Marquis Voban and the new "King" had severely damaged Tokyo; now, a disaster capable of annihilating the entire nation was brewing. One could only blame the fact that the island where the King of the End slept happened to be closest to Japan. Had it been otherwise, the disasters surely wouldn't be this severe.
However, the experts in the monitoring bureau did not know the King of the End was waking. They viewed the volcanic activity as a global environmental shift, akin to the Ice Age millions of years ago or a mass extinction event. Only this time, the extinction might target only this island nation.
No matter how brilliant the scholars were, faced with such terrifying natural wrath, they could do nothing but remain silent. They could only pray in that silence, hoping the disaster would not come to pass.
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In a villa on the outskirts of London.
Inside a uniquely stiff, British-style study, Alexander Gascoigne was quietly reading a book. He was tall and lean, possessing an air of elegance and mystery. He was waiting for news.
Knock, knock, knock...
The door was tapped. The Black Prince did not speak, waiting silently for the visitor to open the door and enter. The man who entered had an outstanding appearance—a handsome, chiseled face. He was taller than Alexander and had broad, strong shoulders. Even in a slightly ill-fitting suit, he exuded a distinct masculine charm.
This was Dennis, the knight following Alec, also known as "Sir Iceman," a twenty-three-year-old Dutchman.
"My King, the flight is booked. We depart in one hour."
"Mmh, very good. Though the awakening of the 'King of the End' is somewhat unexpected, we won't be going alone. The other 'Demon Kings' are also rushing to Japan. It seems a battle of the ages is destined to break out there."
Alexander, known as Alec, closed his book. He looked at the sky—which had been clear but was now turning gloomy—and exhaled slowly. "This time, we'll also have the chance to see just how strong the rumored Seventh Demon King actually is."
Although Alexander preferred to plan from the shadows, there was no longer any need to hide. The "King of the End" was an enemy all Demon Kings would have to face sooner or later.
"I imagine the other Demon Kings won't differ much from my line of thinking." Just as he murmured this, Alexander frowned. "Except for Salvatore Doni."
If that guy saw a fight, he would undoubtedly charge in and start hacking away, ruining everyone's plans. Thinking of the potential scene, Alexander felt a mountain of pressure.
Looking out the window at the drizzling rain, Alexander couldn't help but recall how he became a "Godslayer." In the four years since, every day had been abnormally busy. It all started four years ago. Growing up in a rural town in Cornwall, Alec had been somewhat familiar with magic from a young age. However, he was always better at gambling and sleight of hand than sorcery.
He wasn't the type of prodigy that powerful magic societies or the Witan Council would scout. The one who taught him magic was his father, an ordinary researcher of the occult. Until the moment he died, his father pursued the mystery of the Magic Grail. Because he was so absorbed in the pursuit of the mystical, he was abandoned by Alec's mother; as a father, he had to raise the young Alec alone.
At sixteen, Alec learned a code from his father's lips just before he died. His adventure began then. Relying on sheer luck and sharp intuition, he confronted the Fallen Angel Ramiel and obtained the authority of Divine Speed in his first battle...
Looking back now, it was all quite nostalgic. Soon after, he was embroiled in the battle for the Holy Grail. To continue his pursuit, he faced grueling battles and founded the "Royal Factory."
"It really has been a long time..."
The Black Prince, Alexander Gascoigne, looked at the stormy sky as the rain intensified. He narrowed his eyes and turned around without hesitation.
"Let's go. It's time to set out."
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Los Angeles: a melting pot of races and a major hub for economy and industry. A demon city of criminal vortices, a metropolis where depravity and prosperity coexist. In this city of chaos lived people who deviated from the laws of the world. Those who sold their ethics and conscience to demons to obtain supernatural magical power—the sorcerers.
They based themselves in LA because they sought the "Remains of the Angel" buried there centuries ago. It was a holy relic said to grant the successor immense magical power.
Whether it was true was unknown. However, it was a fact that there were more sorcerers here than in other cities.
Their natural enemy appeared in the late nineties. He possessed magical power that no sorcerer could rival. Transforming into monstrous forms, running through the darkness, manipulating curses, he became an invincible giant, a marksman of magic bullets, a man of constant victory.
In his early days, if asked for a name, he would answer "John Smith" or "John Doe." Names so generic they were used for unidentified corpses. But the citizens who knew his legend and caught glimpses of his shadow granted him the name of the King of the Underworld.
Thus, John Pluto Smith was born.
The first authority Smith possessed was "Great Metamorphosis," usurped from the Aztec "Demon God" Tezcatlipoca. Upon becoming a "Godslayer," she appeared in the world under another masked identity, like a superhero from a comic book. All sorcerers feared him; the populace revered him and worshipped him simultaneously.
However, what no one knew was that the true identity of this "Pluto" was a woman named Annie Charlton.
3:00 PM, Feliz District. California, where it rarely rains, was enjoying a clear day. However, Jack, a researcher, was in no mood for a joyride under the blue sky. After parking his beloved SUV at Samantha University, he walked toward the Humanities Department. His goal was the Foreign Languages and Literature section.
Entering a research building, he saw someone in the lobby. A white woman carrying luggage, about to leave: Annie Charlton. Jack knew her; she was Professor Benst's assistant, a graduate student. Her flame-red hair was cut short and left a deep impression. She wore a black women's suit, which still couldn't hide her excellent physique.
"Hey, Annie. Come to think of it, I haven't seen you around lately."
"That's because I went on a trip. I only just got back." Annie's expression was as cold as usual.
"A trip... that sounds nice. Was it fun?"
"It was alright. There were good things and bad things. Generally speaking, they cancelled each other out, so I wasn't particularly happy." Annie's words to Jack's small talk were very stiff.
She was an ice-type beauty similar to a statue—rational, calm, and composed. She possessed rich observational skills, intellect, and refinement. If she had possessed gentle feminine charm, she would have been perfect. Unfortunately, God had not prepared such a gift for her. Even if judged as beautiful and reliable, she was a woman unrelated to "cuteness."
"Sorry, I really should be going. I have other plans for today."
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