Chapter 154 A trip to hell II

Chapter 154: Chapter 154 A trip to hell II

Through the past several corridors, Oliver found himself being dragged across the entire population of Hell. Everywhere he looked were terrifying creatures that appeared only a minute away from tearing him apart if Lysander wasn’t beside him.

Demons immediately moved out of their way. Some watched from a distance, others followed behind them, curiosity getting the better of them as they tried to understand why a witch was walking through Hell alongside their prince. But Lysander didn’t care about any of them. His dark eyes remained fixed ahead, and anyone unlucky enough to cross his path was violently thrown aside.

BOOM! One demon slammed into a pillar so hard that the entire structure shook. Another was sent crashing into the wall.

Lysander didn’t even slow down. His aura alone was enough to make the surrounding demons retreat.

Oliver could only stare. This place is insane.

The deeper they went, the more terrifying Hell became.

Then Lysander suddenly stopped.

Standing ahead of them was a gorgeous golden-haired demon. His hair looked almost as though it had been dipped in flames, and his eyes carried the same fiery intensity.

Marak. The second-in-command of Lucifer.

Marak crossed his arms and gave Lysander a questioning look. Lysander’s gaze immediately became more venomous. He grabbed Oliver and hurled him behind himself, where the witch stumbled before catching his balance.

Marak’s eyebrow rose. "What is your grace doing with a witch right across Hell’s ground?"

Lysander narrowed his eyes. "And I am answering to you now because...?"

Marak’s lips curled into a grin. "Obviously, I’m here to stop you from making the worst mistake of your life." He glanced toward Oliver. "I don’t understand what you’re planning, but dragging a witch into Hell is already a dangerous move and—"

He stopped.

His eyes landed on Oliver. He looked at Oliver’s forehead, then his eyes moved downward, taking in his appearance, his hands, and the faint traces of Phoenix magic surrounding him. Marak’s expression changed.

"Have you lost it?"

Oliver swallowed.

Marak looked back at Lysander. "That’s a Phoenix witch." His voice dropped. "Don’t you know they’re the witches we don’t mess with?" He gestured toward Oliver. "They’re disasters themselves." Marak shook his head. "So this whole thing is just a mess, bro."

Lysander sneered. "Don’t anger me further, Marak." His voice was cold. "I am here to speak with Lucifer about a crucial matter that cannot wait." He took another step forward. "So if you don’t move..." His eyes flashed crimson. "...I will move you myself."

Marak’s body shivered slightly. "And trust me, you don’t want to know what happens if I actually have to do that."

Marak’s smile disappeared. For a moment, he simply stared at Lysander. He knew that tone. Something was seriously wrong.

Lysander and Lucifer had been at odds for a very long time. Their relationship had always been more like two cats constantly trying to tear each other’s throats out, except their arguments came with ridiculous sarcasm, insults, and enough biting remarks to make even other demons uncomfortable. Marak had long since lost track of how many times they had nearly destroyed parts of Hell during their arguments.

But now Lysander had returned. After two hundred years. And he had brought a witch—a Phoenix witch—straight to Lucifer.

Marak couldn’t help wondering if Lysander had finally lost his mind. Does he actually want this poor witch to die?

Then another thought crossed his mind. He looked at Oliver again. The witch was... dangerously cute.

"Hey!" Oliver’s eyes widened.

Marak pointed at him. "At least can I hold the witch?"

Oliver’s face immediately filled with fear. "What?!" He staggered closer to Lysander.

But Lysander didn’t even stop. He continued walking toward his father’s palace, his expression furious. "You’re going to ruin my goal." He glanced briefly toward Marak. "So stay aside."

Marak blinked.

Lysander continued. "Wait until I’m finished." Then his lips curled slightly. "Maybe afterward, I’ll let you have some fun with him."

Oliver’s entire body froze. His balance nearly disappeared. "What the hell?!" The only reason he didn’t fall was because Lysander’s iron grip remained locked around his arm. Oliver stared at the demon prince in horror. "You can’t be serious."

Lysander ignored him. Then he looked back at Marak. "And don’t you hate witches too?"

Marak shrugged. "What can I say?"

Lysander’s eyes narrowed. "Stop playing games." His voice became dangerously low. "Because with my mood right now, I can’t guarantee that your head will remain attached to your body."

Marak’s smile disappeared completely. That was one of the most vile threats Lysander had ever made toward him, and Marak understood immediately. His friend was having a very bad day. So he stepped aside. But he didn’t leave. Instead, he followed them. There was no way he was missing whatever was about to happen.

He wanted to know exactly what Lysander was doing. After all, Lysander hadn’t been in Hell for years. Everyone had eventually assumed he was gone. Some even believed he had abandoned Hell completely. Marak had once told Lucifer that something might have happened to him, but Lucifer had never bothered looking. And now, after all these years, Lysander had suddenly returned. Marak wasn’t going to miss the explanation. He wanted the full story.

As they entered the palace, Oliver’s fear only increased. There were even more demons inside. Many of them looked toward him immediately. Fangs appeared. Claws extended. Several demons growled. The entire atmosphere threatened to erupt into chaos.

But the moment they noticed Lysander, they fell silent. They knew him. They remembered him. They remembered how he had butchered demons who had once been loyal to him—sometimes for punishment, sometimes because they had crossed him, and sometimes just because he could.

No one wanted to find out which version of Lysander had returned, especially not with the murderous aura surrounding him now.

Oliver swallowed.

The palace itself was unlike anything he had ever seen. The architecture wasn’t natural. The entire building looked as though it had been forged from dark metal, shaped into a massive castle surrounding something that resembled a gigantic cathedral. And the entire structure appeared to be built above fire. A massive lake of flames flowed around the palace.

Yet when Oliver’s feet touched the marble floor inside, it wasn’t hot. It was strangely cold.

He stared down at his feet. How does that even make sense? He quickly stopped questioning Hell’s logic.

Around the walls were enormous paintings and carvings. Demons attacking humans. Creatures tearing flesh from bodies. Monsters possessing people. Entire armies being swallowed by darkness. It was horrifying.

Oliver’s entire demeanor shifted. He had been terrified of Lysander before, but now another thought entered his mind. Lysander was extremely gorgeous, almost unnaturally so. He didn’t look anything like the monstrous creatures surrounding them.

And that made Oliver wonder something that chilled him. What if this isn’t his real face? What if the beautiful appearance Lysander showed humans wasn’t what he truly looked like? What if beneath that face was something far more monstrous?

Oliver’s heart dropped. "Oh shit..."

He had trusted a demon. How could they have been so foolish? Because of Noah, he had placed the safety of the entire squad in Lysander’s hands. And now look at where they were. Hell. Surrounded by demons. With his magic stripped away. And being dragged toward Lucifer himself. Oliver wasn’t even sure he would survive this.

They continued through the palace. They passed hundreds of strange mirrors. Some showed reflections. Others seemed to show something deeper. Oliver caught glimpses of himself in some of them, but the images weren’t always the same. He quickly looked away.

Eventually, they reached a massive corridor. At the end was the main hall where Lucifer held most of his meetings. Several succubi stood beside the enormous doors, but the moment they saw Lysander, they immediately opened them without being asked.

Lysander stepped inside. Oliver followed reluctantly.

The moment he entered, a heavy pressure descended upon him. Hundreds of demons filled the enormous hall. Every conversation stopped. One by one, heads turned.

Then a beautiful, almost angelic voice echoed through the entire hall.

"My son." A pause. "Son, son, son..." The voice carried amusement. "You’re finally here to see your dear old daddy." A chuckle followed. "But judging from that face, something is wrong."

Lucifer leaned forward. "Let me guess." His eyes settled on Lysander. Then he smiled. "Ashton Lane."

The entire hall went silent.

"Or should I say..." Lucifer’s smile widened. "Noah Evernight."

Something happened that none of the demons in the hall had ever expected to witness. Lysander’s composure cracked. His face darkened instantly. His crimson eyes gleamed with murderous intent. The entire atmosphere changed.

Lysander slowly lifted his head. "You immortal asshole."

Several demons stiffened.

Lysander’s lips curled. "Seems like you haven’t changed yet." He took a step forward. "Still bitching around, I see."

A few demons looked away, pretending they hadn’t heard anything.

Lysander continued. "But that’s okay." His eyes remained locked on Lucifer. "I’m here to make you a deal."

He grabbed Oliver and pushed him toward the center of the hall. Oliver stumbled forward. Every demon’s gaze immediately turned toward him. His heart began pounding violently. I’m going to die. This was it. He was completely surrounded.

Lucifer’s gaze slowly moved toward Oliver. The entire hall became darker.

Lucifer leaned back. "Well..." His voice carried amusement. "I feel insulted." He glanced at Lysander. "But let’s see what you want." His smile became sharper. "And why you’ve returned after leaving for two hundred years."

Lysander’s expression hardened. That wasn’t a part of his life he wanted to discuss—not now, not when Noah was missing, not when Lamia might be dead. He pushed those memories aside. There was only one thing that mattered. Finding Noah.

Lysander stared directly at Lucifer. "Let’s go straight to the point, Lucifer." He didn’t call him Daddy. He hadn’t used that name in a very long time, and he certainly wasn’t planning to start now. "I need your help."

He finally let go of his pride asking shamelessly.