716. What Belongs to the Owner Returns

"Gaaaah—!"

Mofulei clutched her head and sank to her knees in agony.

That brief clash of mental power had nearly made her pass out.

The Demon King's soul was not as vast as Sigismund's, like an endless sea, but how could someone with Ultimate Magic Mastery ever leave his mind undefended?

Those defensive spells were layered one over another, building his consciousness into an impregnable fortress, sealing even the tiniest cracks shut.

If Mofulei's mental power had not been somewhat special, she likely would not have been able to pry open even that instant of the Demon King's distraction.

But it was enough. That instant was enough.

Mortis lifted the Demon King's body with one hand.

The slime inside the Slime-folk form ran down his arm, one drop, two drops, slower and slower, thicker and thicker.

That body, which had once been able to change the course of a battlefield with a mere turn of its hand, was now like a punctured waterskin, shriveling inch by inch.

The corners of Mortis's mouth finally rose again. The smile was not ostentatious, but it carried the exhilaration of three hundred years of suppression finally released!

"I knew you relied on Ultimate Magic Mastery and never took my skill lock seriously." His voice was not loud, meant only for the Demon King before him. "Even if I dispelled every spell you cast, before your almost-instant casting speed, it would still be futile."

"But when it comes to mental attacks, that one instant was enough!"

"How does it feel? To be devoured by your own experimental creation? Though after all the experiments you've done, I'm afraid you don't even remember her anymore."

The Demon King did not respond. His body had still completely flattened, leaving only a layer of jelly-like outer skin draped over