Chapter 319 The Absurd Devil and the Contented Adventurer

The Baator Nine Hells, second layer—Dis.

Steep, majestic mountains stretched endlessly like the frozen waves of the earth. The sky above was a deathly, gloomy gray as it was year-round, and the air—aside from the pungent stench of sulfur that filled nearly every corner of hell—carried a heavy scent of rust.

Deep within these sprawling, savage mountains, at the center of countless converging roads that gleamed with metallic luster, sat the most magnificent metropolis in all of Purgatory—the City of Steel.

Thanks to the absurdly rich metal ore deposits in the surrounding mountains, the city boasted highly developed mining and smelting industries.

Because its ruler, Archduke Dispater, harbored a fanatical obsession with advanced technology and military firepower, manufacturing workshops and arsenals could be found on nearly every corner. This made the City of Steel the most famous munitions producer in the multiverse, supplying an endless stream of weaponry to war-crazed maniacs of all stripes.

Today was just like any other day.

With no distinction between day and night, the grinding screech of colliding metal and the deafening roar of wheels rolling across the pavement echoed above the streets.

At the very edge of the City of Steel's inner ring sat Rust District, Broken Blade Avenue No. 32.

It was an exquisite three-story house, sharing the same minimalist, practical style as the surrounding buildings and adorned with a multitude of metallic decorations.

The basement.

Unlike the bright and pristine exterior, the basement was incredibly dim. Only a few specially crafted candles resting on copper holders barely illuminated the space, their flames gently soothing the restless magical particles in the air.

The light revealed a flawless, polished floor covered by a massive array woven from countless intricate patterns and profound emblems.

At the very center of the array, a tall figure sat upon a premium velvet cushion, dressed in a formal suit.

The attire was clearly tailor-made and fit him perfectly. The cuffs, waistline, and the tapering from the sleeves to the shoulders had all been specially crafted, leaving no awkward sense of being too loose or too restrictive.

His eyes were tightly shut and his body completely still, seemingly lost in deep meditation. Though much larger and more robust than a normal human, he still maintained a humanoid physique. However, his noticeably rough, dark red skin—faintly covered in tiny scales—along with the two pinky-sized dark brown horns on his head and the fiery breath that occasionally puffed from his nostrils, gave away his true identity as a devil.

Buzz—The magical particles in the air, previously calmed by the candles, suddenly fell into chaos.

Accompanied by the high-frequency hum of surging energy, the patterns of the array flared to life. A light like congealed blood bathed the entire basement in a dark, ominous red.

"Hiss—hah!"

His eyes snapped open, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks!

It was completely abrupt. Just a moment prior, he had been maintaining a deathly still meditative trance, his breaths long and measured.

The very next second, as if he had just endured an intense physical struggle, he gasped sharply, panting heavily like a drowning man breaking the surface.

His zen-like posture collapsed as his body contorted. He fell backward, throwing one hand behind him against the floor just to keep from toppling over.

His other hand flew up subconsciously, grasping at his own neck.

Completely abandoning his dignified demeanor, he roughly tore open his collar.

Only when his palm pressed flush against his neck—feeling the rough skin, the pulsing expansion of his windpipe as he breathed, and the solid reality of his larynx beneath it—did he relax.

Amid his rapid panting, the lingering terror on Saloyan's face gradually began to smooth out.

"Damn it," he cursed, his mind flashing back to his final moments—the scorching sparks and ash that had filled his vision, along with that fleeting, razor-sharp flash of crimson light.

"What the hell was that!?"

Immediately after, the backlash from the unexpected death of his consciousness projection struck him. His entire body felt as though it had been hit by a severe illness. His aura instantly withered, his spirit grew feeble, and even his dark red face paled with weakness.

Saloyan had not descended to the Material Plane in his true body; it had merely been a consciousness projection facilitated by a specific array and special items. Even when he tricked Abi into signing the contract and temporarily seized control of the boy's body and soul, it had merely opened a slightly wider channel, allowing more of his main body's energy from Purgatory to filter through.

Therefore, after being decapitated by Xia Nan, although he had "died" in the Material Plane, his true body in Purgatory merely entered a temporary state of weakness. His core vitality remained unaffected.

Given his long lifespan—far exceeding that of short-lived races—and the wealth of experience accumulated throughout his career as a devil, Saloyan had certainly suffered failures before. In fact, he had failed quite a few times.

After all, many souls that devils considered highly valuable were extremely difficult to acquire, and the vast majority of intelligent creatures maintained a healthy vigilance against the "devil" race.

Sometimes, the tiniest of oversights could expose his identity and intentions, causing all his efforts to go to waste.

However, what he had just experienced—losing absolutely everything at the very last second, right when he was completely in control and the scales of victory had entirely tipped in his favor—was a first for him.

"Why?"

"How is that possible?"

Without even bothering to stand up from the array, the intense disbelief and confusion in his heart drove the devil noble of the second layer of Purgatory to begin reviewing his experiences in the Material Plane.

Naturally, the primary focus of his review was that black-haired youth named Xia Nan, the one who had sent his consciousness packing back to Purgatory. 'It doesn't make sense,' he thought. Saloyan was supremely confident in his own judgment.

Although the youth's soul smelled highly chaotic—which repulsed him—judging from the aura he exuded and his actual combat performance later on, his class level couldn't possibly have exceeded Level 5.

His combat abilities might have been slightly stronger than an adventurer of the same rank, but Saloyan had observed the entire fight between him and the Barbed Devil.

The black-haired youth had absolutely gone all out just to barely defeat the Barbed Devil. Afterward, Saloyan's own interference had resulted in the boy's chest being pierced, his heart completely stopping.

He should have been dead beyond dead.

What exactly had caused him to resurrect and suddenly gain such an explosively powerful, qualitative leap in strength?

It couldn't possibly be a divine descent, could it?

Saloyan simply couldn't figure it out.

But what confused him even more were the exaggerated traits Xia Nan had displayed in those brief ten-odd seconds after "resurrecting."

His speed, explosive power, and even his Strength had all seen comprehensive enhancements. The crimson flames wreathing his body, along with the lingering embers and sparks left in his wake, seemed to grant him some kind of potent, state-boosting buff.

Even the few moves that looked like combat techniques had undergone corresponding transformations, multiplying in power.

Even now, Saloyan still found the sequence of events right before his decapitation utterly absurd.

It was so absurd he almost wanted to laugh.

An adventurer with a class level no higher than Level 5.

In just a few short seconds, he had first relied on some sort of mental resistance with a counter-effect to completely immune his [Charm Person] and [Tasha's Hideous Laughter]. Then, using another unknown ability similar to [Mage Hand], he forcefully warped the trajectory of the [Freezing Ray].

Finally, to top off the ridiculousness, he had forcefully tanked two consecutive blasts of [Scorching Ray], with all six fiery beams leaving nothing more than minor flesh wounds.

"How does that make any sense?"

Did he think he was a divine Chosen, or the heir of some devil archduke?

Saloyan felt it was purely absurd.

At that moment, an image surfaced in his mind. It was the vision that had inexplicably flashed before him when he locked eyes with Xia Nan's eclipse-like pupils.

That grand but ruined palace, and that withered, decayed, rusted knight.

He couldn't link that image to any powerful entity or deity in his memory.

But without a doubt, that knight was an existence on the same level as a god, if not higher.

Perhaps the chief god of some outer-domain pantheon, or the fallen sovereign of some world?

Saloyan didn't dare think about it any further. When it came to existences of that caliber, even a fleeting thought could be sensed.

He simply buried it in the deepest recesses of his memory.

As for revenge... what a joke. If the entity backing that boy actually came knocking, would Lord Dispater really start a war over a completely insignificant little Baron like him?

Following the battle, his arrogant pride in his status as a devil noble and a subordinate of the Iron Archduke had taken a complete one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn.

Of course, having failed his plan, there was no way he would just let it go peacefully.

He needed an outlet to vent his pent-up frustration.

And under the current circumstances, that unlucky scapegoat naturally became Dalot, the person in charge of the Baron's intelligence network in the Material Plane.

If Dalot hadn't provided such vague intelligence, failing to even pinpoint the exact location of the Goblin Lair and causing him to wander lost in the Underdark for so many days, how could Saloyan have been delayed for so long, perfectly timing his encounter with Xia Nan and that Adventurer Squad?

He merely needed to briefly investigate the traces left behind in the lair; a few dozen minutes would have been more than enough.

Furthermore, his encounters along the way made him suspect that Dalot had taken dirty money from a few of his mortal enemies, deliberately omitting crucial information about the Petrification Lizard and Xia Nan.

"Damn it, get Dalot in here right now!"

"If he doesn't give me a good explanation today—"

"I'll personally send him to the Blood War!!!"

The devil's furious roar echoed through the basement.

The core region of the Misty Forest.

Deep underground, in the expansive Goblin Lair.

The sharp, excited shrieks of the goblins had long since faded, and the shrieking and wing-flapping of the devils were no more.

Only the lingering stench of sulfur in the air and the scorched marks left on the ground by flames bore witness to the battle that had taken place here.

The headless corpses of four Imps were haphazardly piled to the side alongside their severed heads. Their steel pitchforks, weapons forged in Purgatory, had naturally been confiscated and were now lying quietly in a corner of the camp.

The two utterly terrified Spined Devils had likewise failed to escape the fate of decapitation, their bodies lying motionless on the ground like roast chickens displayed in a roadside butcher shop.

As for the "instigator" behind all this, he was currently staring at the campfire in front of him with an attitude of extreme concentration.

To be precise, he was staring at the massive pincer roasting over the fire, which was even larger than a normal human's body.

Before his transmigration, Xia Nan hadn't often eaten seafood like shrimp or crabs.

It wasn't because he was allergic to seafood or disliked the taste.

He just felt that peeling shells was too troublesome, and he didn't want to expend extra effort while eating.

Getting his hands covered in seasoning and struggling to peel off the shell just for a tiny bite of meat—where he could barely even taste the flavor—felt like a poor return on investment.

But right now, facing this massive pincer that radiated a tantalizing aroma and was too thick to wrap both arms around at its widest point... the supposed hassle of peeling the shell had simply become a small price to pay before enjoying a delicacy.

The continuous roasting from the intense heat had turned the severed pincer a mouthwatering, scorched red. Tiny bubbles of oil sizzled out from the cracks in its carapace, releasing a rich grease mixed with the faint, unique aroma characteristic of this type of monster into the air.

His keen Perception precisely and perfectly monitored the cooking time.

Enduring the slight sting of the scorching heat against his skin, Xia Nan gripped the hilt with his right hand and shoved his two-handed longsword—now pitted and useless from melting—into the fire, giving the cracked surface of the pincer a hard whack.

Crack.

A crisp, loud sound of shattering rang out amid the flames.

A burst of steam, a thousand times denser than before and carrying an indescribable fragrance of meat, sprayed out, enveloping the entire camp.

Between the shattered pieces of the carapace lay the fully roasted, incredibly plump, crystal-clear crab meat, its snowy white color tinged with a faint pink.

Distinct, fibrous bundles of meat clustered tightly together, quivering slightly in the hot air currents as they seeped with translucent, sweet juices.

He swallowed hard, gulping down both the intense meaty aroma filling his nose and the saliva unconsciously pooling in his mouth.

Unable to hold back any longer, Xia Nan used the hilt of his sword in tandem with [Gravity Control] to yank a huge chunk of the shattered pincer out of the fire.

Ignoring the residual heat on the shell, he grabbed it with both hands and took a massive, vicious bite!

In an instant, scalding hot, incredibly savory juices—like a rich seafood bisque—exploded across the tip of his tongue, wrapped within the soft, springy meat!

The ultimate natural sweetness blended perfectly with the smoky flavor of the roast. A faint hint of charcoal, mixed with the rich aroma of fat, filled his mouth. With every chew, he felt the wonderful, satisfying resistance of the plump, firm fibers snapping crisply between his teeth. After swallowing, a deep, almost mineral-like sweetness lingered at the base of his tongue, making it impossible to resist taking another bite.

Unconsciously, holding the scorching red pincer in both hands, Xia Nan narrowed his eyes in pure enjoyment.

It was as if all the exhaustion from the previous battle had been entirely chased away the moment he swallowed the meat and felt the warmth spread through his body.

If he had a steaming bowl of cream of mushroom soup to go with it, this would undoubtedly be the greatest pleasure on earth.

As if suddenly remembering something, Xia Nan forcefully suppressed the urge to continue gorging himself. He turned his head and looked toward the other side of the camp, where two bandage-wrapped figures were staring at him with strange expressions.

He waved the meat in his hand, asking in a tone laced with genuine pity that they couldn't share in the feast.

"Are you two sure you don't want a taste?"

"It's really good!"