At this moment, Fargo was utterly terrified. From the moment he piloted the Dawn mech to this region, he had sensed an unknown presence watching him with a cold and detached gaze. After activating a special state in his mech, this feeling became even more intense.
He felt as if this unknown presence had drawn closer, observing him, scrutinizing his every move. It seemed that every secret of his body was laid bare to this invisible, unfathomable existence, filling him with a deep sense of helplessness.
Yet despite this foreboding sensation, none of his optical sensors, thermal detectors, or other observation equipment on the mech could detect any life forms around him. His surroundings appeared completely empty.
Fargo began to question whether his mental state was faltering. Was he simply too nervous, causing his mind to play tricks on him? There were certainly cases where extreme stress led to such delusions.
Even though he constantly felt as if he were being watched, Fargo's excellent combat training allowed him to focus most of his attention on the dragon turtle. He poured every ounce of his energy into battling it.
Now, however, after using every weapon available on the Dawn mech to fight, none of his attacks worked on the fully evolved dragon turtle. He couldn't inflict any damage, and in return, the dragon turtle's counterattacks had left him nearly crippled, barely able to move.
At a loss for what to do, Fargo finally remembered the presence he had subconsciously dismissed as a figment of his imagination.
"Can you help me?" Desperate, like a drowning man clutching at straws, Fargo pleaded to the unseen entity he had sensed.
Having been trained in the system, Fargo knew exactly what the birth of a disaster beast signified. It meant that, in the near future, millions of Xirons could perish without warning.
The destructive power of a disaster beast was terrifying. To this day, the Xirons had not developed any effective means to stop or kill such creatures.
In the past 3,000 years, including the birth of the sixteenth disaster beast before him, the Xirons had only managed to kill three. Each victory came at an enormous cost, often pushing their economy to the brink of collapse.
Fighting these beasts was essentially a one-sided sacrifice, with the Xirons throwing their lives at them. Each battle resulted in the deaths of countless ace pilots and the destruction of entire military units, a devastating blow to Xiron civilization.
Seeing the emergence of another disaster beast plunged Fargo into despair. Every time a disaster beast was born, countless lives would perish in its wake. And this one seemed particularly filled with hatred toward the Xirons.
In his despair, Fargo uttered a desperate plea, almost like a dream, and to his surprise, a voice responded. The voice spoke directly in his mind.
"You can sense me?" A slightly puzzled voice echoed in his head, causing Fargo's face and body to stiffen.
Sensing something was one thing, but having it manifest as reality was something entirely different. After all, there had been no tangible evidence to support his suspicions, and he had even doubted his own mental state.
But now that a voice had spoken in his mind, everything changed. His earlier fears weren't just figments of his imagination—he truly had been sensing an unknown presence.
"Yes," Fargo finally responded cautiously after a long pause, his voice laced with fear. He knew his reply must have sounded timid.
In truth, anyone in Fargo's position would feel the same. The unknown always inspires fear, but once fully understood, the terror diminishes.
"Do you know who I am? And yet, you dare ask for my help?" The emotionless voice sounded again in his mind, but this time, Fargo detected a sinister undertone.
As he listened to the voice, images of a hellish landscape filled his mind—a land scorched by flames, where desperate souls wailed in agony. Horrifying creatures moved through the fire, devouring souls and laughing in satisfaction. Fargo felt a deep and visceral terror.
"I don't know," Fargo replied, trembling. Now that the unknown presence had responded, his fear of being crushed at any moment by this powerful entity grew stronger.
"Let me tell you, I am a devil from hell, a being who loves to devour souls." The voice, now filled with wickedness, continued to echo in his mind, exuding a seductive quality that made one want to listen more, leading their soul into ruin.
"..." Fargo remained silent. Hearing these words terrified him into silence.
When a mythical, evil being stands before you and reveals its identity, do you really have the courage to keep talking?
"But don't worry. Although I'm a devil, I have professional ethics. Even though you're weak, I won't forcibly take your soul. I'll offer you a deal, an irresistible temptation to acquire your soul."
Sensing that the local was too afraid to speak, the devilish Muria, relishing in his twisted sense of fun, continued.
"For example, I can temporarily grant you the power to defeat this disaster beast." Muria's voice was dripping with endless temptation as it echoed for the third time.
"Really?" Fargo, initially terrified into silence, now cautiously responded.
"Little one, are you doubting my power?" Sensing that the local was on the verge of giving in to temptation, Muria smiled slightly. "In that case, let me give you a taste of my power."
After speaking, Muria manipulated a wisp of his golden aura, letting it descend upon the local.
From Fargo's perspective, it felt as if a mountain had suddenly pressed down on him—no, it was even more crushing than that. Every cell in his body screamed under the pressure, and he felt as if death was imminent.
However, strangely, the pressure stopped just short of breaking him. It was enough to cause immense pain but not enough to kill him. The experience was agonizing, making him feel as if he were teetering on the edge of death.
"How does it feel?" To Fargo, it seemed as if only a moment had passed, but it also felt like an eternity. The unbearable sensation finally lifted.
"I feel…"
"Isn't it great to be alive?" Muria asked, a smile in his voice. He knew all too well how his dragon's aura affected lesser beings.
"Yes... yes," Fargo panted heavily in the cockpit, appreciating for the first time just how wonderful it was to simply breathe and observe the world around him.
"So, do you want to make a deal with me?" Muria asked, mimicking the seductive tone of a devil, though his imitation lacked the full persuasive power of a true devil.
"Can you really kill this already deified beast?"
"Killing it would be difficult, but making it disappear from this world is something I can do." Having set his sights on the newly ascended soul-level dragon turtle, Muria played a linguistic trick.
"What's the difference?" Fargo asked, confused. Weren't those two things the same? Then he quickly realized the being in front of him must not be from their world.
"For you, there's no difference," Muria replied. "So, have you decided? Will you trade your soul to make this beast vanish? It's a pretty sweet deal for you."
"May I ask, what will happen if I give you my soul?"
"Let me explain. We devils love to enslave, torment, and devour souls. What happens to your soul depends on my mood, but I can guarantee it won't be anything pleasant."
"Will it be painful?"
"Of course."
"Then, my lord devil, please take my soul."
"Hmm? Aren't you going to reconsider? Having your soul in my hands would be a terrible fate."
"No need to reconsider. As you said, trading my soul to eliminate this beast is already a bargain."
"Very well."
"As a reward for your decisiveness, I offer you two options to make the beast disappear. The first is that I do it myself. The second… I will let you experience a higher level of power and defeat the beast with your own hands."
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