Chapter 652: Nine Hells 3

Draco cracked his knuckles as he faced Baal head-on. The final Demon Lord gazed at Draco with two parts hate and eight parts fear. He had just watched everyone in his cla.s.s of power get turned into either smoking debris, or incapacitated to watch the horror.

He roared to increase his own courage, wielding a greatsword in his right and a greataxe in his left. His aura grew as a red light surrounded him, causing his power to drastically increase as blood filled his eyes.

Berserk!

Since they were in the game, Baal technically did have system-recognized skills. He spun around in a circle and tossed his greataxe towards Draco like a whirlwind, rus.h.i.+ng behind it with his greatsword dragging low to the ground.

Draco grinned and simply pulled his arm back, a red light gathering on his fist. The red light stacked upon itself, growing stronger and stronger until it was like a burning flame.

When Baal saw this, his heart chilled as he sensed death. He quickly halted his charge and dove to the side, leaving his spinning greataxe to go forward.

Draco gathered the power he had stacked and punched out, cracking reality itself with sheer power. A line of red light came forward from his fist, colliding with the incoming greataxe and shattering it apart with ease.

“Demonic shotgun!”

Baal was left speechless when he saw the remains of his weapon that were so plentiful, it would take years to piece them back together. He could only pick himself up and wield his greatsword with two hands.

He saw Draco who was grinning at him lazily and understood that he was merely being toyed with. However, he had no choice but to roar, rush forward with his greatsword held up, and swing it down with all his force once he came before the Demon Supreme.

Draco responded with a punch that connected with the center of the blade, breaking it apart as his fist continued on to smash into Baal’s nose. The Demon Lord’s ugly face was knocked inwards, yet Draco did not stop there.

He gave two rapid jabs to each cheekbone, denting the Demon Lord face even more, before punching him full force in the stomach, lifting his body slightly into the air.

Baal still held onto his greatsword’s hilt, the broken blade glowing weakly as it had been destroyed. Despite the pain he was in, he used his close proximity with the Demon Supreme to angle the broken blade towards his back, aiming to run Draco through from behind.

Draco idly kicked backwards, knocking away this pathetic attempt at an underhanded attack, shattering the rest of the blade. He then slapped Baal on both sides of the face, causing a small shockwave of air on either side.

The Demon Lord looked quite comical with his face in such a cartoonish way that you couldn’t even see his eyes, nose, or mouth, yet his trembling body still glowed with some weak Demonic Energy as he tried to stand up.

Draco shook his head with disdain, and entered a boxer’s stance. He then began punching Baal everywhere on his crouching body that Draco could reach, breaking bones, tearing muscles, and causing a great amount of pain as each hit was strong enough to leave a shockwave.

Paimon, who was still tied to the wall, could only shed a tear and look away. This sight was too much for her to take in. When the others had been beaten down, she could accept it as Demon Lords had their own beef and spat with each other, but Baal was different.

He was their true and spiritual leader, someone all of the other 8 Demon Lords respected from the depths of their hearts. Watching Draco beat him up was like seeing your elder brother getting abused right before you.

Belial who was still unable to move from his hole in the wall was only looking on with dull eyes filled with regret. He, unlike Paimon, could not even look away because his arrogance and foolishness had caused all of this.

If he looked away, he would be spitting on his fellow Demon Lord’s suffering for his sake. He had to engrave this sight into his soul so that he would never forget the consequences of his rebellious att.i.tude.

As for Vine, Purson, Zagan, Balam, and Beleth, they were between life and death, their blackened bodies had yet to show any signs of healing. Not that their presence would change the situation in any way, though they were slightly conscious enough to recognize what was going on.

They too felt the pain and humiliation with every blow Baal took, but there was nothing they could do. This new Demon Supreme was cruel and powerful. If they refused to bow after this, they would suffer even more… and even that would require him to spare them afterward.

Draco finally gave the last punch to Baal and stepped back. He then raise a palm and closed his fingers together while placing his thumb in the center of his palm.

“Hahaha, you have done well to last this long, but your time is up. Spend some time on the brink of death like your allies and use that time to recognize who the true master is.” Draco said as a ball of Light Energy formed on his palm, growing until it reached the size of a baseball.

He then manifested his wings and flapped them flying slowly into the sky as he gazed down at Baal who was still struggling to move using sheer willpower alone.

“Welcome, to Demonic Draco’s Light Ball Attack!” Draco roared as he pushed the magical construct forward, its size growing with each second it pa.s.sed until it was big enough to smash a house.

It then collided with Baal’s position, exploding into a huge white light that was worse than a flashbang. When the light subsided, all that was left was another blackened and charred body in the center of a new crater, its twitching coming to a stop.

Draco gazed down upon what he wrought with a cold light in his eyes, the aftershock of his attack making his features appear indiscernible for a movement.

Looking at this, Paimon and Belial understood that this Demon Supreme was truly a malevolent ent.i.ty, something they should never have fought against.

He did not enjoy their suffering but he did not despise it. Rather, he was satisfied with what he had done. That realization chilled them more than anything.

Draco then slowly turned to face Paimon and Belial, who where s.h.i.+vering.

“And then, there were two.”

He suddenly appeared before Belial. “Does it hurt?”

Belial gazed at Draco blankly, wondering why he was asking such a question at this time. Still, he found himself speaking without thinking.

“It’s the most painful thing I have ever experienced, physically and mentally.”

Draco nodded with satisfaction. “It only gets worse from here for you lot. The final act is coming and it’s going to be extremely good for me, but terrible for you all.”

Draco then s.h.i.+fted out of his Horned Demon True Body as the time had elapsed. He would not be able to return into it for another 3 hours. However, he wasn’t bothered as he treaded the air.

He then took out a set of blacksmithing equipment, then created some resources on the spot using a little bit of energy. He then tossed them under his hammer, which then drained huge amounts of energy to upgrade them upwards.

After a few minutes of clanging, he tempered whatever he made and then drew some runes in the air that were embedded into the items, which also drained more Aetheric Energy from outside his body to manifest.

When done, he inspected what he had made.

｢Demon Subduing Lock – Ornamental Item

Rank: Legendary

Durability: 1,000,000/1,000,000

Effects:

Pa.s.sive 1 – Demon Binding: Any target with Demonic Blood, a Demonic State of Being, or a significant affiliation with Demons bound by this lock will not be able to remove it unless the user wills it.

Pa.s.sive 2 – Obedience: The Demon Subduing Lock is able to sense the slightest of hostile intents or negative thoughts towards the master from the trapped target, and will burn them with Holy Light energy until they repent.

Active 1 – Insta-Kill: Activating this skill allows the user to explode the head of the tapped demon, killing them thoroughly. Cooldown: None.

Description: An item made by a relatively new Grandmaster for purposes unknown, this lock has yet to make any legends in the world.｣

Currently, making Legendary Items on the spot was as easy as taking a dump for him as long as he knew what he wanted and had the resources/energy to accomplish it.

He didn’t even need to waste Aether Crystals on Enchantment anymore with his Inner Universe so full of energy. That would be a colossal waste, even if he did have so many Aether Crystals currently that he could build a continent with them.

Draco changed the aesthetics of the lock using the Grandmaster Menu to adopt a white color and add anti-demonic symbols on it. It was quite gaudy, but it would serve its purpose.

He had made 9 of these locks, and he flicked a finger. Immediately, 7 of them clamped around the necks of the charred Demon Lords as well as Belial, with only Paimon and the hidden Asmodeus exempt for now.

Belial was the only one to react with a bit of a struggle but he was instantly baptized in Holy Light that made him scream in unbelievable agony, making Paimon shudder with fear.

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Holy Light was the bane of Demonic Energy. Why do you think Draco had used Light or Lightning energy to turn these fellows into charred husks? Why else would they be unable to regenerate as fast as usual?

Obviously, the chosen element was ‘super effective’ as they say.

To be bathed in such energy was no different from having boiling hot cooking oil poured over you from head to toe. You could just imagine how terrible that would feel.

Draco nodded with satisfaction at seeing this effect. He then pointed to the charred bodies on the ground, sending out thick green lights towards each of them. The moment those entered those charred husks, they shuddered greatly, the blackness receding as the Demon Lords came out as healthy as a newborn baby.

They looked around groggily, taking in their current situation as their faces became grim. They then saw the collars on their necks and identified their uses, their face changing from horror, to humiliation, to anger, then to despair.

They remained silent, only converging together while glaring at Draco, yet none dared to antagonize him in any way. The smoking Belial by the side was a good enough example of what would happen if they did so.

“Is this necessary?” Baal asked Draco in a deep voice.

Draco chuckled. “Only until this next bit is over. I need to make sure none of you disturb me having fun as I claim my prize.”

Draco then pointed before him, energy gathering at his finger as a bed manifested from nothing. Well, seemingly, nothing, but there had been a small bead in his palm beforehand.

Just a trash-tier item he carried around in case he needed to use Refinement to make something quickly. After all, he still needed source materials at his stage.

Draco snapped his fingers and brought Paimon over. The tentacles that had held her, now strapped the female Demon Lord tightly onto the bed, making her face change. The other Demon Lords also showed shock and anger as they understood what Draco meant by claiming his prize.

“INSOLENT! You may be the Demon Supreme, but defiling a Demon Lord is a great sacrilege!” Zagan roared, however the next moment, he was lit up by Holy Light Energy as he screamed in agony beyond what a Demon should feel. The others avoided him, not wanting to be burned, but were ashamed of their reactions.

However, their fear of Holy Light Energy was instinctive, so no matter how bad they felt about it, they would probably do it again.

Draco only chuckled with amus.e.m.e.nt. “Then let me ask you this, what is the Demon Race’s motto?”

Their faces went blank as they responded almost instinctively. “Kill, Torture, Rape, Slaughter!”

Draco made a ‘so you see’ gesture. “I’m merely living up to our racial beliefs, yet you dare to try and chastise me?”

These Demon Lords could only grit their teeth but could not refute Draco even without the Demon Subduing Lock. Reading their minds pa.s.sively, he was shocked to find that despite not liking it, they accepted whatever he was going to do next.

Those four words, did they mean more to the Demons than just a motto or something they shouted before slaughtering? Interesting.

Paimon herself who had been struggling up until now also suddenly became docile, a look of defeat in her eyes. It seemed that she had accepted her place as a spoil of war meant to be enjoyed after the battle.

(Author’s Note: Quick warning, if you’re the type to dislike non-vanilla s.e.x where consent is implied but not expressly given, please skip the next part!

Second warning, if you don’t mind the former, but dislike unromantic s.e.x, please skip!

Third warning, if you dislike mind-break or humiliation s.e.x, please skip!)

Draco ignored the impotent Demon Lords and made a claw in the air, tearing through something. Immediately, Paimon’s robes were ripped apart, displaying the underwear of the Demon Lord, which was black for both top and bottom.

“Oho? Gothic. Not bad.” Draco commented casually, ignoring Paimon who felt shame at being exposed like this before her compatriots.

Draco then walked over to the bed and climbed atop it slowly, allowing his armor to recede into his body. He sat casually on Paimon’s flat belly and gazed at her huge mounds which were barely kept at bay by her bra.

“Tsk, tsk, this bra has suffered. Brother bra, you can rest now.” Draco remarked solemnly.

The bra seemed to agree with him as it chose this moment to snap freeing the two huge b.r.e.a.s.t.s that bounced around until they settled. Draco was not a breast man, but he had to admit, Paimon had lovely t.i.ts.

He reached out and cupped each one, squeezing them slightly to gauge the texture and the firmness. He was surprised to see that there was not much fat in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, which allowed them to stay upright on her chest even though she was lying down, rather than flopping to the side due to gravity.

Usually, b.r.e.a.s.t.s that did so were fake or altered, but clearly, there was no plastic surgeon in h.e.l.l.

Cough, I mean, no plastic surgeon in this h.e.l.l.

Draco was also surprised that Paimon’s skin texture was no different from a human woman, except maybe the fact that she was extremely warm. He could feel intense heat swimming in her body, which was her blood most likely.

He kneaded her b.r.e.a.s.t.s softly for a bit, making the Demon Lord squirm a little, her legs rubbing against each other as she sought to distract herself from the sensation.

Draco noticed her actions and chuckled. “Naive. As punishment, I will show you the limits of pleasure that I can inflict upon you.”

Draco raised his thumb and index of both hands and rubbed them together. Eventually, a crackle appeared in between them that formed a thin band of electricity.

Paimon was shocked by this, but could only react by shrieking out loud when Draco brought each of his electrically charged fingers to her nipples. One could hear the sparking as electricity met flesh, and Paimon arched her back as her tongue stuck out.

Draco made sure that the charge was low enough to stimulate without causing pain. This shock would only cause a sharp sensation that her brain would interpret as pleasure.

The idea that s.e.x involving pain would break a mind was foolish and crude. It might work, but you would only create trauma.

True humiliation came when the woman didn’t want to feel the pleasure, but it was all that encompa.s.sed her mind and body, and you were the one causing it.

Because afterward, even if her consciousness would choose to reject you, her body would release juices in your presence and her subconscious would desire you. Upon every subsequent encounter, she would have to fight her mind and body that would be telling her to kneel at your feet and display her genitals for your usage.

That, was true humiliation.

Even worse, when she tried to get with another man, unless he would be able to top your performance, she would always subconsciously feel unsatisfied and rate them as inadequate, no matter how much her consciousness resisted such thoughts.

It was like feeding someone a drug and then giving them common powder for so long. It just wasn’t the same, so they would start to crave the drug again, and that breaking point, where they had to acknowledge that they needed it to continue, was where the humiliation would peak.

Draco had learned all this from Maria in the previous timeline. Why she had taught him this much, only she and her G.o.d knew. Whatever the case, he would put it to good use now.

Paimon thrashed underneath Draco, trying to escape the sensation on her chest that was coursing through her body. It felt like a line had formed from her nipples, connecting to her brain and her c.l.i.toris, causing all of them to share the same stimulation.

Her legs waved about as the intensity slowly increased. Draco was maintaining a stable output, but her reception was spiking due to her sensitivity increasing as a result of arousal.

The Demon Lord’s nipples were now as hard as stone, and they were receiving a buzz that would have left a weaker woman out cold. Paimon eventually slowed down as her eyes bulged, her legs clamping together as if they were trying to stop something from coming.

However, Draco who had never relented, didn’t give her the chance as he increased the output slightly, finally making a gap in her defenses as her expression became lazy, her eyes glazing over with pleasure as her clamped legs released.

From her genitals, her discharge came as a response to her climax.

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Author’s Note: It has come to my attention that some readers are complaining about ‘wasted’ coins on chapters with a lot of menus or misc text used to enhance the experience.

There’s a lot I can say, but there is no need to fight with my own readers over this.

I offer a simple solution. Send me a link to your Paypal and I will pay back that $0.06 that makes up 3 coins or less.

I don’t wake up and spend 60% of my waking hours and sacrificing my social life writing daily so that someone can point at me like I want to purposefully steal your $0.06

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