Episode-1024
Chapter : 2047
"No!" Beelzebub shrieked, his voice losing its god-like resonance and turning thin and shrill. "That is mine! That is me! Stop! I am... I am hungry! I need to eat!"
"Not anymore," Lloyd said.
The effect on Beelzebub’s body was terrifying to watch.
The "White Form," which had been perfect and statue-like, began to fail. The marble skin lost its shine. It turned dull, like old chalk. Then, cracks began to appear. They started at his chest and raced outward across his face.
Beelzebub’s body began to wither. His muscles shrank. His skin sagged. He looked like a grape being turned into a raisin in fast-forward. The golden light in his eyes flickered and dimmed, turning into a muddy, terrified brown.
He wasn't just dying; he was drying up. The concept that allowed him to convert matter into energy was being ripped out of him. Without Gluttony, he couldn't sustain his massive form. He was starving to death in seconds because he no longer knew how to eat.
"Please," Beelzebub begged, his legs giving out. He slumped forward, held up only by the roots stuck in his chest. "Give it back. I feel... full. I hate it. I hate being full!"
"Silence," Lloyd said.
The flow of energy increased. The purple light moving through the roots became blindingly bright.
In the palm of Lloyd’s left hand, the energy began to collect. It swirled and hardened, taking physical shape. It looked like glass being blown by an invisible artist.
Slowly, a fruit formed.
It was the size of a large apple. It was a deep, bruising purple, covered in strange, swirling patterns that looked like open mouths. It pulsed with a heavy, rhythmic beat, like a second heart. It was heavy, dense with the condensed power of a Devil Prince.
The Fruit of Gluttony.
Lloyd felt the weight of it in his hand. It was cold. It felt dangerous. This wasn't just a power-up; it was the distilled essence of a fundamental law of the Abyss.
With a wet, tearing sound, the grey roots retracted. They pulled out of Beelzebub’s chest and vanished back into Lloyd’s skin.
Beelzebub collapsed into the mud.
He looked like a husk. He was a skeleton wrapped in dry, papery skin. His white hair had fallen out. His beautiful, terrifying form was gone. He lay there, gasping for air, his chest a hollow crater.
Lloyd stood over him, holding the purple fruit. He looked at the fallen Prince with zero sympathy.
"You spent five thousand years eating the world," Lloyd said, tucking the fruit into a secure pouch on his belt. "You ate cities. You ate armies. You ate hope."
Lloyd checked his internal energy gauge. The extraction had actually refilled his own mana reserves. He was back to 100%. He felt the hum of the Aegis suit’s logic systems in the back of his mind, even though he wasn't wearing the armor. He was ready.
Beelzebub tried to crawl away. His movements were jerky and weak, like a broken insect.
"I will... return..." Beelzebub wheezed, coughing up dust. "The Abyss... is eternal..."
"The Abyss might be," Lloyd said, adjusting his gloves. "But you aren't."
Lloyd didn't want to leave a mess. He didn't want to leave a corpse that could be resurrected by necromancers or salvaged by the Fire Fly Corporation. He needed to make sure there was absolutely nothing left.
"Physics lesson number three," Lloyd said, his voice cold. "Matter cannot be created or destroyed. But it can be changed."
He raised his right arm.
"Let's change you into a memory."
________________________________________
Lloyd looked down at the withered creature writhing in the yellow mud. It was hard to believe this pathetic thing had been a god-like entity just minutes ago. But Lloyd knew better than to trust the appearance of a Devil. Even a spark of life left in a Prince could grow back into a forest of fire if given enough time.
"Total erasure," Lloyd muttered to himself. "Clean sweep."
He held out his right arm. He focused his mind on the Unified Power Core within his soul. He didn't just call on one spirit; he called on a partnership.
"Nova," Lloyd commanded mentally. "Wake up the cannon."
"Iffrit," he added. "Bring the heat."
The transformation was smooth and mechanical. The skin of Lloyd’s right arm shimmered and vanished, replaced by the sleek, white-and-gold plating of the Nova spirit. The metal expanded, locking into place with heavy clicks, forming the long barrel of the arm cannon.
But this wasn't just the Nova Cannon.
Chapter : 2048
Inside the barrel, a deep, angry crimson light began to glow. Iffrit, the Demon of Fire, poured his essence into the weapon. The clean, white plasma of Nova mixed with the dirty, destructive magma of Iffrit. The result was a volatile, swirling energy that looked like liquid sun.
[Fusion Protocol: Active.]
[Weapon: Magma-Laser.]
[Output: Maximum.]
The air around Lloyd’s arm began to distort. The heat was so intense that the mud beneath his feet hissed and baked into dry clay in seconds.
Beelzebub looked up. His muddy, brown eyes widened. He recognized the energy. It wasn't just fire. It was the concept of Annihilation.
"Wait..." Beelzebub rasped, raising a trembling, skeletal hand. "We can... negotiate..."
"No," Lloyd said. "The market is closed."
But Lloyd paused. He looked up at the sky. It was cloudy and grey, but he knew what was up there. Satellites. Drones. The Fire Fly Corporation was watching. If he set off a nuclear-level explosion right here in the swamp, the thermal sensors in orbit would light up like a Christmas tree. They would pinpoint his location instantly.
He had promised King Liam he would be quiet. He had promised to be a scalpel, not a hammer.
"I can't let the noise out," Lloyd realized. "I have to keep the explosion inside."
He needed a silencer. A really, really big silencer.
Lloyd reached into his Void Power. He accessed the [Spatial Power] ability he had gained from the System. Usually, he used this to store items or teleport. But today, he was going to use it as a cage.
"Spatial Barrier," Lloyd whispered. "Invert."
He pointed his left hand at the space around Beelzebub.
A cube of transparent, white light materialized around the fallen demon. It was about ten feet wide on each side. It wasn't a physical wall; it was a cut in reality. The space inside the cube was separated from the rest of the universe. Sound couldn't get out. Heat couldn't get out. Light couldn't get out.
It was a perfect, isolated pocket dimension.
Beelzebub looked at the white walls of his prison. He pounded weakly on the barrier. There was no sound.
Lloyd walked up to the edge of the cube. He pressed the barrel of the Magma-Laser against the field. The spatial magic allowed his weapon to pass through, just the tip of the barrel entering the isolated space.
"Goodbye, Gluttony," Lloyd said.
He pulled the trigger.
Inside the cube, the world ended.
A beam of blinding, red-gold energy erupted from the cannon. It hit Beelzebub’s chest.
There was no scream. There was no struggle.
The sheer temperature of the Magma-Laser was millions of degrees. Beelzebub’s dry, paper-like skin didn't burn; it sublimated. It turned directly from solid to gas. His bones flashed into white dust and then vanished.
The energy filled the cube. Because the barrier was sealed, the explosion couldn't expand. The pressure and heat built up instantly, turning the inside of the cube into a miniature star. The white light was so intense it was painful to look at, even from the outside. The mud inside the cube vaporized. The air turned into plasma.
Lloyd held the trigger down for three full seconds. He poured everything into the shot. He wanted to make sure there wasn't a single cell, a single molecule of the Devil Prince left.
The cube vibrated. The reality around it warped, trying to contain the impossible energy.
Then, Lloyd released the trigger.
The beam stopped.
Inside the cube, the blinding light slowly faded. The plasma cooled down. The smoke swirled, trapped against the invisible walls.
Lloyd waited. He watched with his [All-Seeing Eye], scanning the interior of the prison.
He looked for a heartbeat. He looked for a soul. He looked for a trace of mana.
There was nothing.
The space inside the cube was empty. The floor was a smooth, polished bowl of black glass—the melted remains of the dirt. In the center, there was a small pile of fine, grey ash.
That was it. Five thousand years of terror, a King of Hell, reduced to a handful of dust in a glass box.
"Target erased," the System Administrator confirmed in Lloyd’s mind. "Biological trace: 0%."
Lloyd exhaled. He felt the fatigue hit him, his knees shaking slightly. Maintaining the barrier and firing the fusion cannon at the same time was exhausting.
He waved his left hand. "Release."
The white cube flickered and vanished. The barrier dropped.