As a soulless demon, Blackheart had no sense of pain.
Yet, he could sll death.
The golden energy radiating from his opponent was indeed sacred, searingly hot, and designed to restrain a demon's body. But it wasn't enough to kill him outright. However, an inexplicable feeling gripped him—a deep, sudden realization that if the human male before him truly desired to end his existence, he would die.
This sense of impending doom was both profound and unnerving.
Blackheart imdiately understood that this man possessed a power capable of destroying him. His confidence and pride began to waver.
"This encounter has made realize my mistake," Blackheart said coldly. "I'll be watching, curious to see the kind of trouble you'll bring to him. But mark my words—don't ever appear before again, or you will die."
Boom!
As his words echoed, a dazzling golden light burst forth from the man's index finger. Waves of energy rippled outward, flinging dust and debris in all directions. His hair and clothes whipped wildly in the violent gale, while the golden, liquid-like energy surrounded Blackheart. This sacred energy flowed with a divine brilliance, annihilating the demon's body and reducing it to wisps of inky black smoke.
Blackheart's tortured screams filled the air as a jagged crack tore through space before him. The golden liquid entwined with the black smoke and was drawn into the rift. From the other side ca a cacophony of hoarse roars and anguished wails, as if countless undead and demons were writhing in tornt.
Monts later, the crack—radiating hellfire and dark, crimson light—sealed itself, restoring the space to its original state. The chaotic air currents subsided, leaving an eerie calm.
Leon had expelled Blackheart back to Hell, but he had not killed him.
The reason for his restraint, however, was not curiosity about how much trouble Blackheart might cause for phisto. Leon had a greater purpose in mind: fishing.
From the mont Leon and even Sky Blade sensed Blackheart's unique power and strength, it beca clear that Blackheart was no ordinary demon. He would inevitably cause turmoil in Hell, a dinsion vast and teeming with powerful entities.
Though Sky Blade, a Celestial Computer, could detect Hell's coordinates, it lacked the computational capacity to scan an entire dinsion as vast as Hell, which rivaled the main universe in scale. This lack of information about Hell made Blackheart an invaluable source.
Leon understood the storm Blackheart would unleash in Hell—and he intended to use it to his advantage.
Leon had plans to build a kingdom of his own in the future. However, instead of using Sky Blade to search for a new dinsion to establish his base, his ambitions were set on sothing far grander: Heaven.
The dinsion of Heaven was unique—profoundly so. It could be traced back to a terrible yet awe-inspiring entity: God. This God was the supre existence of the universe, surpassing even the Five Creation Gods—an existence incomparable and unfathomable.
No one knew where this supre being had gone, but it was clear that He was no longer present in Heaven. In contrast to this true God, the so-called "God" residing in Heaven was nothing more than an ant—a despicable pretender cloaked in divinity.
Nevertheless, Heaven's dinsion held a mystique that even Sky Blade couldn't penetrate. Its coordinates remained elusive. Leon understood that if he wanted to locate Heaven, he needed to do so as a spectator, avoiding any action that might alert the dinsion to his presence.
For all its hypocrisy and corruption, Heaven was undeniably powerful. Leon recognized he wasn't yet ready to contend with it directly. Thus, the prudent choice was to act from the shadows.
Blackheart, it turned out, was the perfect bait.
Heaven and Hell, often seen as opposites of light and dark, were in truth intertwined—two sides of the sa coin. Where there was Heaven, there was Hell, and vice versa. Leon saw in Blackheart a tool to help him uncover the door to Heaven without exposing himself.
These thoughts flitted briefly through Leon's mind, but to Wanda, his behavior told a different story. To her, it looked like plain, unvarnished jealousy, and it delighted her.
With a playful grin, Wanda walked up behind Leon, mustering the courage to wrap her arms around him. Pressing her soft cheek against his broad back, she teased him.
"Are you jealous, Leon?" she asked impishly, clearly eager to provoke a reaction.
But Leon didn't give her the satisfaction.
"He shouldn't have any thoughts about you—not at all," Leon replied calmly, his tone steady yet possessive.
Wanda pouted at his unexpected response, but Leon's mind wandered for a mont. When she had been younger, his protective feelings for her had been entirely pure. But as Wanda matured, her charm, her sweet yet fiery personality, and her growing affection for him began to stir sothing deeper.
Leon's instincts as a man—his possessiveness—had awakened. From the very beginning, he had considered Wanda to be his, though he was careful to remain patient. He would wait for the right mont to claim her, letting her blossom fully before making his move.
The re idea of Blackheart harboring intentions toward Wanda had unleashed murderous intent in Leon. Were it not for his self-restraint, Blackheart would have been annihilated on the spot. Yet Leon allowed the demon to live—for now.
Blackheart's survival ca at a cost, though. His future would be marked by Leon's presence at every turn. Whatever storms Blackheart sought to create, Leon would be the shadow manipulating the chaos.
For Leon, death was not the most painful punishnt.
Instead, Blackheart would serve as his pawn, an unwitting agent carrying out Leon's plans. In the end, Blackheart would beco the best worker his "boss" could ask for—and Leon intended to make him earn every mont of it.
Boom!
A brilliant golden light suddenly pierced the gloom, slamming into the ground with devastating force. The impact carved out a massive crater, sending terrifying shockwaves rippling outward. The collapsed ruins and remnants of buildings surrounding the site were obliterated, consud in an eruption of debris, dust, and smoke.
Amid the chaos, a figure erged from the swirling haze. It was Blackheart. Despite his disheveled surroundings, he retained an air of elegance. Brushing off dust from his coat, he surveyed the scorched landscape around him.
He realized instantly where he was: Hell.
But Blackheart was neither enraged nor despondent at being cast back to this infernal dinsion. Instead, he wore a contemplative expression, his mind churning with thoughts.
He recalled the final monts of his confrontation in the human world, the icy indifference and utter disdain in Leon's eyes. That mory etched itself deeply into Blackheart's mind, a wound more cutting than the golden energy that had sent him back to this forsaken realm.
"Father," Blackheart murmured to himself, his voice low and reflective. "I now understand why he was able to defeat you."
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