614. Perdition Part Five

614. Perdition Part Five

“You can still save Belphegor.”

My voice echoed around my pocket space. The glint in my eyes faded away, and [Truth Divination] came to an end. My dad stood there before, still wrapped in a somber silence. He didn’t speak. He didn’t meet my gaze.

I poured out all my feelings for him to see— I showed him that I was telling the truth. And I pleaded with him to do what was right. Not for the sake of justice, but for his own sake.

So I looked at the Devil, waiting for his response. I had nothing else left to say. He had heard my souls, and now it was his turn to act.

[The World Of My Mind] returned to normal. My pocket space stopped shifting, and the reflections of my memories faded away. There was an all-encompassing silence that remained. A sense of solitude that made it seem like it was only the Devil standing here.

Not me. Not Haec. Not his friends. Not the lake of fire.

It was just Sal. The Devil. Formerly known as Samuel. The first King of the Netherworld, disgraced and forgotten with time.

His gaze was shadowed over. His brows were arched over his head, casting a darkness that seemed to envelope his body. It was almost unsettling to see. He stood eerily still. It was like he was a statue— refusing to move and refusing to act.

Or so I thought.

His head creaked back as the shadow was lifted from his body. The Devil’s black eyes bore into me, and I stood my ground. Was he glaring at me? Was he upset by what I said? I couldn’t quite tell. The expression he wore on his face was unreadable.

I watched his lips moved. Sal whispered something, and I blinked.

“What?”

I asked, but my dad didn’t stick around to give an answer. A rift opened behind him— a portal that was pitch black. He stepped into it, and the hole in space sealed shut.

The Devil was gone.

It took a moment to register what had happened. Haec had watched the entire conversation as a spectator— he didn’t even feel like he belonged here. Everything that was said and shown felt too… personal.

But he was there for it. He watched it all unfurl. And when the scene came to an end, he didn’t even realize it was over.

But the Devil just walked away— opened a portal and left. Just like that, the conversation had ended, and now the former Heir of the Netherworld was left sitting there with his head spinning. The only reason he broke out of his stupor was because he felt a finger poking him from the side.

“Haec…”

He glanced over to Taburas who was biting her lower lip. She wore a worried look on her face.

“What do we do?”

“I—”

Haec gritted his teeth. He glanced at Bertrugil— the normally quippy [Abraxas] was quiet now, processing what was said. Next to him, Aemula was stunned, but also confused. It looked like she didn’t quite understand the gravity of what was discussed.

Taking in a deep breath, Haec shook his head as he turned back to the [Succubus].

“I do not know, Taburas. If this is a problem that even the Devil flees…”

But Salvos spoke up, cutting him off in an instant.

“Nope.”

Haec blinked at her simple response. He turned to his first companion, and she stood there with her hands on her hips, still staring at the empty space where the Devil had once stood. She shook her head, continuing with a small smile on her face.

“My Dad isn’t running.”

“He… isn’t?”

Haec furrowed his brows. And Salvos nodded, turning to face him. She looked confident as she finished.

“Not anymore.”

A powerful explosion ripped across the dark tunnel. Fragments of broken buildings were sent flying in every direction, knocked back by a pulse of iridescent light. This expanding ripple formed bubbles of non-existence, popping up alongside rifts that distorted space itself.

Belphegor stumbled back, staring at the remains of dozens of [Gargoyles] lying at his feet. He wiped the black blood from his face and raised his gaze. He heard a cacophonous chittering— he saw the bright light as it drowned his senses.

The end of the world approached, and it drew closer faster than it had ever moved. Despite his best efforts, there was nothing Belphegor could do to stop it. It would consume the Second Layer of the Netherworld, just as it consumed all the others before it.

The Guardian of the Netherworld could have given up. He could have fled like many of his comrades did in the past. He hesitated, looking back down at himself as the aura of divinity wisping off him vanished.

And he made his decision.

“I won’t run.”

He was going to continue fighting— he was going to perish like those who stayed and fought alongside him.

“I won’t give up.”

Belphegor rose to his feet, clenching a fist. His gaze landed on stared a distortion moving through the end of the world. It hid behind an army of corruption. Whether it was Corrupted Netherstones or Corrupted Netherstructures or even Corrupted Hellspaces.

They all seemed to protect it. Like it was their leader. This was the very first time Belphegor had seen such a behavior. And the only reason this could happen was because he had left the Second Layer.

It was so brief. He had sensed something amiss in the First Layer, so he went to visit it. And he underestimated how much worse the time dilation had become between the Second Layer and the First Layer.

Enough time had passed down here to create… that.

Belphegor watched as it emerged from the end of the world. Bigger than before. Even though it was already massive. It was—

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A giant Corrupted Hellspace.

One that was larger than any he had ever seen before. It had so many tendrils, he couldn’t even keep count. The aura of distortion that normally covered a Corrupted Hellspace wasn’t there, instead it had become fully visible, even to the naked eye.

He didn’t even think it was a Corrupted Hellspace any longer. It had to have become something else… or maybe it was in the process of becoming something else.

Belphegor didn’t know. He just knew he had to stop it now— before it got even stronger. He straightened, taking a tired step forward. And another. And another.

The giant Corrupted Hellspace screeched, unleashing its tendrils at him. Belphegor sprinted forward, even as the corrupted army descended upon him. Even if his body broke— even if he grew tired— he wasn’t going to stop fighting. He wasn’t going to surrender. He wasn’t going to run away. Because he did it all for—

“[Godkiller].”

A familiar voice echoed throughout the second layer. It was a reverberation that shook the ground beneath Belphegor’s feet. The words alone sent the closest of the corruption recoiling back.

And an instant later, the army of corruption was obliterated.

Belphegor’s eyes grew wide as he saw a shining object rip through Corrupted Netherstones and Corrupted Hellspaces alike— like they were all made of nothing. It was a speeding projectile that moved so fast, it reached the giant Corrupted Hellspace in a split-second.

The giant Corrupted Hellspace couldn’t react in time. Its core was pierced— a hole ripped through its body. The sheer force of the impact sent it flying straight back into the end of the world along with the glinting object.

And there was a flash of light as the project clashed with the wall of infinite corruption. Belphegor watched as the end of the world trembled— slowing for just a moment from the attack.

But as the giant Corrupted Hellspace sank into the corruption, the projectile stopped at the edge of the end of the world. The bright light slowly dimmed, and Belphegor saw what it was.