phisto is omnipotent in his own domain, yet in its absence, his power crumbled. Under the weight of dual suppression, his strength had plumted, leaving him vulnerable. Within half an hour, he found himself brutally outmatched by a human whelp—a singular force that reduced him to a bloodied ss.
Cuts and gashes adorned his form like grim reminders of his mortality. Though he narrowly avoided death multiple tis, he had no ans to heal or retaliate. If he'd been tethered to his realm, with its boundless resources and empowering aura, such wounds would have been trifling. He could have tapped into the countless souls within his domain as fuel to unleash devastating power.
But all that was gone.
The trump card he had wielded for eons, the foundation of his dominion over Hell, was now aningless. Facing true death, phisto trembled—a demon lord brought low.
Hovering above the scarred battlefield, Leon stretched leisurely, his every movent oozing calm confidence. His laughter echoed in the air, mocking phisto's plight. "Tell your choice," Leon said, his voice sharp and commanding. "You get one chance."
phisto stilled, his chaotic thoughts coalescing. Pride and pragmatism warred within him, but the answer was clear. Without hesitation, he submitted.
"I will cooperate," phisto declared, his voice devoid of resistance. "Whatever you need, I will provide."
For a demon lord who once relished cunning and domination, his submission was a bitter pill. Yet survival trumped pride. He hoped only to outlast this ordeal, to sche another day.
"You've already signed a contract with the Ancient One," Leon began, his tone asured. "So, let's make this official."
"Of course!" phisto agreed quickly.
Using his very soul as ink, phisto etched his na onto a magical contract. The terms were ironclad, binding him in ways no cunning could unravel. Leon scrutinized every clause before adding his own mark. While the agreent appeared mutual, it was far from it.
The contract's power was absolute, ensuring phisto's compliance. Any violation would ignite a searing fire upon his soul, obliterating him. phisto's own magic couldn't hope to counteract its binding force.
"Just a precaution," Leon remarked, his voice lighter now. "My family ans everything to , so I have to be careful. Surely, you understand?"
"Of course," phisto replied with a thin smile, masking his humiliation.
Leon smirked but didn't press further. To phisto's relief, Leon shifted focus. "Now, tell —what do you have for ?"
"I assu you're referring to the arena I created at the edge of my domain?"
"Precisely."
phisto hesitated for only a mont before answering. "It exists, a battleground where warriors clash endlessly. If it's training or competition your people desire, it'll serve them well."
Leon raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Go on."
"There's another place," phisto said carefully. "A better one."
Leon's gaze sharpened. "I'm listening."
"Limbo," phisto said, the single word laden with significance.
Leon's mind raced at the na, recalling ancient knowledge and legends.
"Limbo," Leon repeated, his voice testing its weight.
phisto nodded, elaborating. "It's a pocket dinsion, an independent fragnt of Hell. Magic saturates the air there—black, white, chaotic. Within its bounds, countless warlocks and warriors vie for dominance. Your family would find no shortage of challenges."
Leon listened, expression unreadable.
"In Limbo," phisto continued, "the magical elents themselves are highly potent. They can be absorbed and transford, becoming raw energy stored in one's cells. For those like your... protégés, it could accelerate their growth exponentially."
Leon nodded, weighing the potential against the risks. Limbo was no ordinary battlefield. Its ruler, the dark sorcerer Belasco, wielded imnse power, enhanced by his dominion over the dinsion. In Limbo, Belasco was akin to phisto within Hell, his strength rivaling the gods themselves.
The road to power was never easy, and Leon knew what awaited his family in Limbo. But he also understood that growth required struggle.
"This Belasco," Leon mused. "He's powerful, yes?"
"Extrely," phisto admitted. "But Limbo offers rewards that are worth the danger."
Leon's smile was sharp, predatory. "Then Limbo it is."
phisto suppressed a shudder. This human was fearless, relentless, and utterly unpredictable.
As Leon prepared to lead his family to the chaotic expanse of Limbo, phisto silently vowed to retreat into the shadows. The mortal world had beco far too dangerous for his liking.
...
Join patreon if you want. /GreekGreenGlass
Reviews
All reviews (0)