Chapter 281

Excerpt from the book *Demonic Hearts*:

"Among the true demons, Lucifer, my master, was undoubtedly the most powerful.

But among the true demons, the undisputed warrior was Satan of Wrath.

As chaos was about to begin, I arrived at a desolate area on a vast plain.

In the middle of it all stood a house—neither large nor small.

Beyond that plain lay a city.

I never got around to exploring that city due to circumstances.

But some time later, I heard it was a great place to live a peaceful life.

I wanted to visit it, but in the end, I couldn't.

I still remember that moment—when I first set foot on that plain, an oppressive power nearly brought me to my knees, but I resisted as best I could and said:

"Lord Satan, I am Merac Grensad, disciple of Lucifer of Pride."

The tyrannical energy emanating from that true demon ceased.

That was a rather unique demonic energy; I never saw another demon with such a peculiar energy, not even among the descendants of Satan of Wrath.

Although, maybe that's exactly why. Yes, his descendants.

Since, in order to have descendants, he had to have at least one wife.

And that's how it was: she and two of his children died during "The Ruin."

Yes, that era that made the True Demons great also left a huge void in the lives of some others.

Especially when the loss stems from the most unexpected betrayal.

A betrayal capable of provoking such intense rage that it distorts the very essence of demonic energy.

But back to that moment.

The moment when my journey through Pandemonium was coming to an end, since my Rank had risen through various trainings and battles, and I was therefore destined to return to my master's side to honor him.

I still remember that true demon who wore pants, a shirt, and boots—all simple, nothing luxurious.

His gaze was steady; he stood nearly three meters tall, and his body was muscular.

His eyes looked like intense flames capable of burning in an instant.

His long horns were a dark, brilliant red.

Not a single scar marred that reddish-white skin.

And long black hair that reached down to his waist.

"What are you doing on my territory, disciple of Lucifer?"

"I was just traveling through Pandemonium; my intention was to meet the Great Demon Lords," I said respectfully.

"Hmm, I think you picked a bad time," he said, frowning as he looked toward the horizon.

At that moment—as I've already mentioned—my Rank was even higher; to be specific, I had reached the King Rank (Third Rank).

I must say I felt very discouraged.

To me, the power of the True Demons was unfathomable and awe-inspiring.

But on that day, I—who had defeated many chimeras—

I sensed the presence of an "Unnameable One"—it was so chilling and abysmally nauseating.

It was as if that being's gaze and perception laid bare my innermost self, showing me that I was nothing in the face of them.

I hated it; I felt I had failed to honor my master.

"If you hate being weak, you have the chance to become strong; if you had merely felt fear, you would have been a disciple unworthy of your Master."

Those were the words Satan of Wrath left me with.

Sometimes I think it was a kind of lesson.

But that's all I remember of his image.

Because after that encounter, a new and devastating era began, called "Chaos"…

…

During the day.

In a sumptuous hall with white walls and a ceiling 5 meters high, adorned with several beautiful golden chandeliers, six cardinals, Lord Gemini, and the Hierarch of the Temple of Endless Heaven gathered in front of a large white marble table.

"In the center of the table shone a mirror with a red frame, from which emerged the projection of the Cardinal who had previously been guarding the seclusion room where Arian was held.

"We have examined the young Arian; he is currently stable, but his Spiritual Core is unstable. After several examinations, we have concluded that this is a curse."

After those harsh words, everyone seemed pensive, though their emotions varied.

"A curse again," murmured the Hierarch of the Temple.

Everyone looked at the man with the gentle voice, dressed in a pure white robe with gold trim. The Hierarch smiled kindly, and two dimples appeared on his solemn, weathered face; then he said:

"This was the work of that Demon Marquis who also calls himself Mephistopheles, and we believe he is the same man the Hero and the Saint met in the Great Mountain Range; hmm, more than just believing, we're practically certain."

The Cardinals exchanged glances; they did not understand why the Hierarch had withheld this information, but shortly afterward, they all sensed a serene yet imposing power.

"Lord Trismegistus," the Hierarch pointed to the opposite end of the table, and a golden chair appeared there.

Two Cardinals swallowed hard; for some of them, Lenard Trismegistus was almost a legendary figure.

But to everyone's surprise, Lenard did not come alone; he was accompanied by a handsome young man with an expression full of confidence and superiority.

"Grand Master, it seems they don't have a seat for me here," said Vann Mither with an intriguing air.

One of the cardinals directed his perception toward the young man wearing an elegant black suit over which he wore a white robe.

Their perceptions collided, and suddenly the black-haired cardinal lost consciousness, and his chubby face slammed against the hard marble of the table.

"Oh, thank you," Vann pushed that cardinal out of his seat, and he sat down and then said with an air of superiority, "We can continue."

The Temple Hierarch glanced at the founder of Inquisiderian.

Lenard Trismegistus merely nodded.

"Inquisiderian went to the islands that made up the archipelago where that human supposedly lived, but upon arrival they found only ruins; it's easy to deduce that the demons covered their tracks to buy time, but now that we've discovered the hero was cursed, there's no longer any doubt that that individual wasn't human—he was the demon whose identity we all know," stated the Hierarch of the Temple of the Endless Sky.

"But why inform us of the cooperation with Inquisiderian at this very moment?" asked a Cardinal with wine-colored hair and a black beard.

Cardinal Jeremaia was waiting for a response from the Hierarch, but it was Vann Mither who spoke.

"It's because we want you to hand over the hero to us; he'll be of greater use in our hands."

Although Vann's voice now sounded serious, his mischievous gaze told a different story.

All the Cardinals looked at the Hierarch of the Temple of the Endless Sky.

"This is an important decision that we must make together," the Hierarch said honestly.