Flesh-Forging Pool

Kishino's crossroads.

The center of Chaos Hell.

Yicha cast his gaze toward the rightmost of the three split ridges, the one that was a mangled mass of flesh.

Kishino's Flesh Ridge.

Above the ridge rose a terrifying, constantly throbbing thick pipe covered in tumors. Chunks of flesh mixed with mucus-like substances flowed through it continuously toward the foot of the mountain. The mountain itself was decorated like a Christmas tree with countless internal organs, made up of tumors of varying sizes and slick sacs.

Following the Flesh Ridge all the way would lead to the Flesh-Forging Pool. Compared to reaching the end of the sky canopy or digging deep into the Underground Judgment Arena, this winding, swollen, vibrant route was actually easier to investigate.

Yicha felt it was necessary to take a look.

The "Man-Eating House" might not be there, but Beelzebub's demon army would certainly be stationed there.

He could use the time before Xiqisi arrived to investigate their preparations for war and gather information.

Although Beelzebub had not gone to his Floating Island Courtyard, she had most likely returned to the Flesh-Forging Pool.

But since she showed no sign of wanting to find him, there should be no problem as long as he was careful not to be discovered.

And he had a faint feeling:

Even though he had returned to his demon form, Beelzebub could not trace him. For some miraculous reason, she was unable to establish the connection that existed between demons.

Yicha was delighted to return to himself—the rank of an angel had felt like a gorgeous but uncomfortable formal suit, chafing his armpits until they itched terribly.

"If you get there first, wait for me at the center of Hell."

He activated the blood pact and sent the message to Xiqisi.

After some thought, he tugged at the soul link in his blood and summoned Goodbye here as well. A Hellhound skilled at fleeing and capable of devouring all kinds of energy was undoubtedly a powerful assistant who could ensure survival under any circumstances.

As for the others—

Yifomiet, Nese, and the enlightened Sankarabi should have more than enough strength to defend against attacks other than Beelzebub's beneath the restored dome.

He filled his wings with Hell's Yan Feng and shot along the serpent-like path of the Flesh Ridge.

As the ridge stretched onward, the terrain beneath Yicha changed.

The dry, dark-brown cracked mud, webbed with thick fissures, suddenly plunged downward, forming a vast, boundless mountain wall with no visible beginning or end and a drop of a thousand meters.

Below the cliff, crimson Disaster Stone jutted out in rolling waves, with thick mushroom-shaped stone peaks standing everywhere. Amid them, nine towering stone pillars encircled a massive blood pool. On the lower ground to the other side lay a dry, smoking forest.

At this point, Kishino's Flesh Ridge also plunged downward like a waterfall, splitting into hundreds of fishbone-like branches. The thick flesh pipe likewise divided into the same number of dark purplish-red tributaries, spreading out on both sides and winding deep in every direction.

Flesh-Forging Pools of all sizes hung like evil fruit at the end of each tributary.

Yicha slowed down and descended into the dry forest.

He began wandering along its edge, keeping as far away as possible from the enormous blood pool—known as the Cup of Dark Birth, it was one of Beelzebub's favorite haunts.

It was easy to imagine that the area around the Cup of Dark Birth, where Beelzebub resided, would be guarded by the most elite legions. The other two demon grand dukes and the armies they commanded were likely stationed near the seven great organ pools beneath the Cup of Dark Birth.

According to the leaders' ranks and the strength of their legions, all demon armies radiated outward from the Cup of Dark Birth in descending order.

The deepest part of the Cup of Dark Birth held the elite troops.

At the forest's farthest edge, there would only be—

"Yicha... Inter..." A voice behind and above Yicha asked in slow surprise.

He turned around and saw two furry creatures hanging from the bare branch of a tree to his right not far away. Both had round black noses and a pair of bright yellow eyes.

"...Duke?" one of the furry creatures said with effort, extending a paw—or rather, trying to extend one. It took him nearly five seconds just to raise two fingers.

So only sloth demons like these are left, Yicha thought.

It was truly unbelievable. Beelzebub's conscription had not even spared them. He could not imagine how these two could possibly help destroy the world.

By the time the world was destroyed, they might only have crawled to its basement.

"Flo," he called.

Teaching this fellow back then had undoubtedly been a nightmare—the kind that lasted six hundred and ninety years.

What most people did not know was that sloth demons learned quite quickly. But if you wanted to test whether they had learned anything, then it would be...

Ex...

cru...

ciat...

ing...

ly...

slow...

Forget it. He had no desire to recall it.

"This is..." The sloth demon named Flo seemed to want to introduce the comrade beside him. The two fingers he had finally managed to raise struggled to change direction in the air.

"Hel...lo..." The other furry sloth demon also began the slow process of raising a finger.

"Hello. Hello."

Even the air seemed to stop moving for them. Yicha briefly missed the bottle of Law Speed Charm Stones he had given Sankarabi—there had been five Haste spells inside.

Almost instantly, he abandoned any thought of questioning them and asked instead, "Where is Duke Vabula's legion stationed?"

"At..."

The two sloth demons shifted angles and began raising their paws again.

Come to think of it, although Yicha had not had much contact with Vabula, after considering it, he felt that Vabula would be a good person to question.

Duke Vabula was much older than he was, simple in temperament, and rarely displayed any special fondness for violence—something rare among demons.

He liked tinkering with little handmade objects—something he had in common with Yicha.

He also loved philosophy—something they had nothing in common over.

"What meaning is there in studying these things, trash?" Vabula had once read one of his books and made that comment at a gathering.

That left a deep impression on Yicha. After all, most demons did not read at all.

There was also something important.

Vabula was weak, solitary, and very distant from the other high-ranking demons. He posed absolutely no threat to Yicha, making him very safe—his position as duke had been earned purely through age.

"What meaning is there in strength, trash?" Vabula often said. He seemed to use the word "trash" as a filler.

"At..."

The sloth demons had raised their hands. They pointed toward the side of the forest near the Flesh Ridge.

"...Charred..."

"Thank you, Flo. Thank you, other one. You didn't see me today. Goodbye." Yicha darted away.

Charred Shell Garden.

Sure enough, Vabula was not valued much. That old demon had been assigned to an extremely remote place with harsh conditions. It was perfect for meeting him.