The Time of the Promise

Skin, flesh, eyes, hair...

Even every drop of Tibalt's flesh had been carved open.

Within it, one could see tiny mouths hidden deep inside.

And within every mouth were countless smaller mouths, endlessly cycling, endlessly multiplying...

The moment they all let out wails and shrieks at once.

The intangible, formless sound waves required no medium of transmission.

They entered the ears of every demon in the hall simultaneously.

A malice from an Outer Plane.

At that moment, it too crossed time and space to arrive.

A sense of abnormality, distortion, rejection...

And a profound sense of fear...

Surfaced in the heart of every demon.

Even the few Demon Gods with the greatest strength could only lower their heads in terror.

In truth, if Orsaga had not deliberately blocked the negative effects.

Any life-form below the level of a Great Demon that heard those wails would have been warped into monsters and used for a second round of transmission.

So, he had indeed deliberately spared his subordinates' lives.

But he did not care much about such a trivial matter.

Orsaga looked at the head dangling from his hand with a light smile.

"How does it feel? This is level 20,045 pain. It should have just reached your threshold."

At present.

Based on the Pain Authority he possessed, he had temporarily divided pain into 25,442,184 levels.

Among them, anything below level 10 was an ordinary level that normal people could experience and did not involve the soul.

Needle pricks, bumps, severed limbs, flaying, branding... all fell within that range.

Anything below level 204,214 would not have a lethal effect on life-forms that had formally reached the level of Great Demons.

Anything below level 11,134,945 would not have much effect on Abyss Lords.

The pain caused by the special spell Tibalt had used