Hell Demon King Conference

Russell knew very well that Dormammu had already fallen to his knees—dead beyond death, with no possibility of resurrection.

Even if Dormammu could be resurrected, losing the Dark Dimension would reduce him to a third-rate mage with no further threat, unless he found another dimensional space and became its master.

But since someone had called out that name, they had clearly mistaken the Dark Dimension power on him for Dormammu. Russell thought for a moment, then strode toward the round table.

He had no idea whether he was late, because many of the stone chairs around the round table were vacant. Russell chose one saturated with Dark Dimension Magic Power and sat down.

The source of the power in the chair could be traced back to Dormammu, but that had been in the past. Now it belonged to Russell.

Russell swept his gaze across the surroundings and found that the beings present were all demon gods from different dimensions. Having left their own dimensional worlds, their strength varied, as did their relationships with one another.

In terms of appearance, the demon gods came in every imaginable form, many of them so creatively designed that even Russell's wildest thoughts could not have conceived of them.

There was a blue octopus head, its beard made of writhing sucker-covered tentacles, looking very much like Davy Jones, captain of the Flying Dutchman.

There was a black-and-white skeleton, crimson light blazing in its eye sockets, its body wrapped in hard frost armor that constantly spilled black smoke.

There were nouveau riche demons dripping in gold and silver, and hunched Ents dressed like scarecrows; enormous red venomous serpent-dragons and dwarf-like purple-skinned people; ugly demon Witches so hideous they extinguished all desire, and seductive Witches commanding solemn respect...

In short, there were all kinds of beings, and