A Core Ship From The Start

Within the dark crypt, deep underground, a massive figure was slowly walking through the tunnel.

It was an incredibly grotesque Demon, its lower half resembling a fat maggot with multiple pairs of insect-like limbs incessantly writhing on the ground. Its upper body exuded an aura of decay and stench, with sharp bone spikes protruding from its body, swaying with the Demon’s movements.

This was Duriel, the Pain Lord, one of the four Great Demons.

But unlike other Great Demons, Duriel didn’t engage with Humans; for him, there was a more important task.

Moving through the cavern, Duriel arrived in a massive underground chamber, where at its center lay a prisoner. It was a tall warrior clad in Armor, but the light-like wings emerging from his back revealed that this prisoner was not human.

He was an Angel.

"Hello, old chum, it’s torture time......"

Gazing at the prisoner before him, Duriel let out a "hehe" laugh, wriggling his body forward to stand in front of the Angel. He scrutinized him meticulously—of course, there was no face beneath the shadowed hood, and thus no expression. But Duriel was indifferent; he merely raised his right hand, extending the bone spikes, stabbing forward at the warrior in front.

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"Ugh———!"

With Duriel’s movement, the Angel let out a muffled groan. Just hearing his pain-filled voice made Duriel tremble with excitement. As the Pain Lord, Duriel’s favorite pastime was inflicting pain, whether on others or himself. To him, any kind of suffering was the ultimate enjoyment and satisfaction.

"Why, haven’t you given up yet? Angel? What are you waiting for? No one will come to save you, and sooner or later the Human World will become part of Hell...... Those fragile Humans don’t stand a chance against us, and your companions have long abandoned you, so what are you still holding on to?"

"Shut... your damn mouth... Demon!"