Episode-1022
Chapter : 2043
His face, which had been a jagged mess of wrinkles and teeth, smoothed out. He became handsome in a terrifying, alien way. He looked like a king from a world where nobody had ever tasted food. But the most striking change was his eyes. The nervous yellow was gone. In its place were two glowing pools of molten gold.
This was the White Form. The purity of Starvation.
Lloyd felt a cold shiver run down his spine. This wasn't just a power-up. This was a phase shift. Through his [All-Seeing Eye], Lloyd could see that the demon wasn't radiating energy anymore. He was doing the opposite. He was a hole in the fabric of the world.
"The menu is changing," the White Prince said. His voice now sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once, resonating in the very air. "I'm tired of eating your metal. I'm tired of eating your fire. I think I'll start by eating the light around you. And then? I'll eat the seconds of your life."
Beelzebub didn't move a muscle. He just opened his mouth.
He didn't scream. He just inhaled.
The effect was like a dam breaking. The yellow swamp water didn't just flow toward him; it was ripped out of the ground. The mist, the air, the light—everything was dragged into the white void of the Prince.
Lloyd felt his feet slide. He dug his boots into the mud, activating his [Steel Blood] to make his legs as heavy as lead pillars. But it didn't matter. The ground itself was being pulled toward Beelzebub. The mud was flowing like a conveyor belt, carrying Lloyd directly toward those gold eyes.
"System!" Lloyd shouted in his mind. "What am I looking at?"
[Warning,] the Administrator replied, the voice sounding slightly distorted. [Target has moved from physical interaction to conceptual interaction. He is currently deleting the distance between Point A and Point B. He is not 'pulling' you; he is erasing the space in front of him.]
Lloyd gritted his teeth. "So I'm walking on a disappearing floor. Great."
He looked at Beelzebub. The Prince was standing perfectly still, his white skin gleaming. He wasn't even using his hands. He was just... existing. And because he existed, the world was disappearing.
"You can't fight a vacuum, Lloyd," Beelzebub said, the words carried perfectly to Lloyd's ears even though the air was rushing away from him. "The more you resist, the more energy you burn. And the more energy you burn, the more I have to eat. You're just seasoning yourself for me."
Lloyd didn't answer. He was too busy trying to breathe. The air was getting thin, his lungs burning as the oxygen was stolen before he could catch it. He felt his own mana—the blue energy that kept his body strong—starting to leak out of his skin like steam. It was being sucked toward the Prince in long, wispy ribbons.
He was being digested while he was still alive.
"I need to get out of the pull," Lloyd thought. "I can't fight him if I'm being pulled into his mouth."
He focused on a spot of high ground about thirty yards to his left—a pile of dry rocks that seemed to be resisting the flow.
"[Void Steps]!" Lloyd commanded.
He used his energy to fold the space, trying to teleport to the rocks. It was a move that usually happened in the blink of an eye. He expected to feel the sudden shift in perspective, the cool air of the new location.
Instead, he felt a sickening tug in his gut.
He flickered. For a millisecond, he saw the rocks. Then, he was slammed back into the mud, only five feet from where he started.
[Error,] the System droned. [Spatial coordinates are being consumed. The 'bridge' cannot be built because the destination is being pulled into the target's center.]
Beelzebub chuckled. The sound was soft and mocking. "You tried to skip the distance? How cute. But I'm eating the distance, Lloyd. There is no 'away' anymore. There is only 'here.' And 'here' belongs to me."
Lloyd stumbled, his boots splashing in the yellow muck. He was only fifteen feet away now. He could feel the intense, cold void coming off the White Prince. It felt like standing in front of a giant fan that was sucking the heat out of his blood. His skin was turning pale. His vision was starting to tunnel.
Chapter : 2044
He realized the terrifying truth of Beelzebub’s "High IQ" power. The demon wasn't just strong; he was a tactical nightmare. He had created a situation where every standard defense was a failure. Running made the pull stronger. Teleporting was impossible. Shields would just be more food.
Lloyd Ferrum, the man who knew everything, was running out of math.
"Is this it?" Beelzebub asked, his molten gold eyes glowing with a cruel light. "The great Major General? The man who built the suit? You look like a very small, very lost child in my garden. Don't worry. It will be over soon. I’m a very fast eater."
The suction increased. Lloyd’s feet left the ground. He was floating now, being pulled through the air like a piece of paper into a furnace. He was ten feet away.
The White Prince opened his mouth a little wider. He wasn't even a monster anymore; he was just a beautiful, white end to the world.
Lloyd looked at the Prince. He looked at the golden eyes. He felt the emptiness trying to hollow out his soul.
"You're right, Beelzebub," Lloyd whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the vanishing air. "I can't outrun a black hole. And I can't punch a vacuum."
He closed his eyes.
"But I don't have to."
________________________________________
The wind was a monster now. It wasn't just air moving; it was the sound of the universe being torn into small pieces. Lloyd was hovering in mid-air, his body tilted forward, his fingers clawing at nothing as the "White Hunger" dragged him toward those golden eyes.
Everything around him was a blur. The trees, the mud, even the light itself seemed to be stretching, turning into long, thin lines that all pointed to the center of Beelzebub’s chest. It was like being inside a tunnel that was shrinking every second.
Lloyd could feel his heart rate slowing down. Not because he was calm, but because the Prince was eating the "action" of his body. The electricity in his nerves, the heat in his blood, the very will to move—it was all being drained away.
Beelzebub stood there, his white tunic fluttering in a wind that only he controlled. He looked like a god watching a bug crawl into a trap. He was smug. He was certain. He had calculated every move Lloyd could make and found an answer for all of them.
"The silence is nice, isn't it?" Beelzebub said. His voice was a calm whisper that somehow stayed clear despite the chaos. "No more plans. No more responsibility. Just give in to the hunger. Become part of something bigger than yourself."
Lloyd opened one eye. It was bloodshot, but the blue ring in his iris was spinning with a frantic, desperate energy.
"I'm... not a big fan... of being on the menu," Lloyd grunted.
He reached deep into his soul. He didn't look for the fire of Iffrit. Fire needs oxygen to burn, and Beelzebub had eaten all of it. He didn't look for the lightning of Fang Fairy. Lightning needs a path to travel, and the space between them was broken.
He went to the one thing that didn't care about air, space, or distance. He went to the clock.
"Zafira," Lloyd whispered.
The name was like a secret code.
Deep in the back of Lloyd’s mind, he heard a sound. It wasn't a roar or a blast. It was a click. The sound of a heavy gear finally snapping into place after a thousand years of rust.
The air behind Lloyd didn't just ripple; it cracked open like a mirror.
From the dark rift, a figure stepped out. She was tall, thin, and moved with a jerky, unnatural rhythm. She was wearing a long, black dress that looked like it was made of funeral lace and smoke. Her face was hidden behind a veil, but through the thin fabric, a single golden eye glowed. It wasn't a normal eye. It was a clock face, with tiny hands that were ticking backward.
Zafira, the Weaver of Eras.
The suction of the White Hunger hit her, but it did nothing. Zafira didn't exist in the same "Now" as the swamp. She was a ghost of time, a being that walked in the gaps between seconds. To her, Beelzebub’s vacuum was just a lot of noise in a room she wasn't really in.
She placed her long, freezing-cold fingers on Lloyd’s shoulders.