Chapter 737: Lord of Blackwater
The bloody slaughter had raged on for three days and three nights.
There was no sun in Baator, only fire and darkness everywhere, yet as a plane symbolizing lawful evil, its blood-red skies still followed a semblance of day and night.
Under round after round of bombardment, the wasteland in front of the Bronze Fortress had been flattened by several feet, now scorched and cratered, reeking of sulfur and demon blood.
Despite the relentless tides of demonic assaults, the hell legions remained stationed before those impenetrable walls, keeping their ancient formations intact.
Meanwhile, players surged across the battlefield. Upon spotting enemies, they rushed forward fearlessly—more reckless and death-defiant than the demons themselves.
After all, when low-tier demons died, they returned to the Abyss only as wormlike larvae, fated to be consumed by others. Players, however, merely lost some experience points.
Elite forces like the Dragon-Oath Paladins and Draconic Warlocks of the Ember Empire clashed with high-tier demons. Scorching winds battled abyssal frost, blazing white pillars of fire pierced ice walls, vaporizing frost shamans riding abyssal dragons.
Misha shouted devoutly, "Our Lord watches over us! His golden slit-pupil sees all—these demons are His trial for us!!"
"For the Dragonlord!"
Draconic Warlocks' golden eyes gleamed. Their staves unleashed surging torrents of power, and dragonfire swept across the land, incinerating countless demons.
Dragon-Oath Paladins, clad in heavy armor and wielding giant shields, stood tall before Balor Flame Demons.
"The Dragonlord above all!"
"Long live!"
Their faith coalesced into a massive dragon soul—a crimson phantom of a dragon that breathed fire, flapped its wings, and clawed at the sky, battling the airborne Balor Flame Demons.
Across the vast Avernus plains, nearly ten million beings clashed in a catastrophic melee. The earth trembled, thunderous war cries, wails, explosions, and howling winds filled the air.
The noise was so deafening that even devils, whose bodies far surpassed mortals, felt their ears ringing and minds muddled.
Ten million souls.
What did that even mean?
That number exceeded the population of every kingdom on the Feanso Continent—except the Ember Empire, the Kingdom of Kasande, and the Seleucian Kingdom. It was like an entire nation, regardless of age or gender, marching to war.
Every minute, hundreds if not thousands perished. Even the Machine God Cult's hundred-meter warships looked tiny on this battlefield.
The warfront stretched dozens of kilometers, enveloping the Bronze Fortress and the surrounding wastelands.
From above, the millions of demons looked like a boundless black sea, with their unending attacks crashing forward like waves. The frontline was the shoreline.
Now, however, one could clearly see the Avernus coalition's line holding strong, while the Abyssal legions faltered. Colored specks appeared in that black sea—players.
Millions of demons had perished, and player deaths numbered in the hundreds of thousands, yet their numbers showed no sign of dwindling.
Thanks to the Ember Empire's reinforcements, the hell legions held the line, resisting wave after wave of demonic onslaught.
But finally, someone—or something—could no longer bear watching the demons lose ground.
"ROAR—"
A low, resonant roar split the skies, layered with countless noises—screams, howls of agony, stifled moans.
It sounded like thousands of mortals lost in darkness crying out in unison, embodying every negative emotion imaginable.
All eyes turned to its source—a pitch-black mountain rising from the heart of the demon tide.
"Is… that a mountain?"
"No—a demon! That is a demon's body!"
"Lord of the Nine Hells! That has to be a damn Abyssal Lord! How can any demon be that massive?!"
"Holy shit, that boss is absurdly huge!"
"Ugh—disgusting to look at."
In that moment, both devils and players were stunned, their awe genuine and overwhelming.
It was a demon.
Why? Because it was just that massive. Even on this colossal battlefield, it was impossible to ignore.
The beast stood nearly 200 meters tall, like a looming mountain, its entire form covered in thick, viscous black slime, reeking with a stench that blanketed the battlefield.
As it approached, the truth became clear: its grotesque body was made entirely of tentacles, bloated with pus and embedded with over a thousand blood-red eyeballs that blinked with eerie red light like sinister stars in a pitch-black sky.
Whip-like tentacles writhed around it, each slick with mucus, constantly dripping black water that made sickening, squelching noises like crushed guts.
—This was the "Lord of Blackwater," Ixinix, a demon from the Abyss, one of those unnamable, grotesque monsters twisted by the void.
Perhaps the polluted remains of a god's body, or chaos coalesced into flesh, or even the result of some ancient sorcerer's experiment.
Whatever the case, the origins of Ixinix had long since been lost to history.
Winged demons known as Rot Harbingers crawled from pustules on the Lord of Blackwater's back.
They flapped their slime-drenched wings, buzzing like flies and darkening the sky in a vile, inky veil.
Soon after, a horde of ooze-like creatures spawned from Ixinix's body, crawling forward. Their translucent bodies devoured filth as they moved, swelling in size.
Accompanied by harsh roars, shaking earth, and squelching slime, that "black mountain" slowly advanced on the Avernus coalition's frontlines—unstoppable.
The aura of chaos blanketed the battlefield and crept into every soldier's heart, instilling soul-deep dread and trembling in millions.
Such was the power of an Abyssal Lord—a terror born from the depths of the Abyss!
It was primal instinct—the fear of the incomprehensible unknown.
Even players, "soulless" as they were, suffered from fear, confusion, and status debuffs.
Far on the Bronze Fortress, Cassius squinted at the distant black hill, feeling the chaos within its oppressive aura. He muttered, "What a troublesome foe… and damn, that thing's ugly."
Bael, face grim, instinctively gripped his hellforged sword. "That is the Lord of Blackwater, a monstrosity from an unknown abyss. Sadly, I know nothing beyond the name."
"The Abyss births many twisted things. Even the Lords of the Nine Hells cannot comprehend them all. This is clearly one of those."
Cassius quipped, "Maybe it's a god's colon, tossed into the Abyss eons ago."
After all, even Gruush's blood and eyeballs could spawn evil things.
This gut-like demon leaking stinking fluid might just prove his theory.
"BOOM!"
As they spoke, the Lord of Blackwater oozed onto the battlefield, its presence like a suffocating weight.
"Damn it! It is an Abyssal abomination! Disgusting as hell! Stop it now!" a devil officer roared, brandishing his saber.
Hellfire balls, flaming arrows, blood-red lightning—every kind of attack was hurled at the beast.
But the black slime devoured and dissolved everything. Arrows, bullets, even cannon shells disappeared into it like stones in water.
Spells crumbled a hundred meters away, undone by chaotic energy into disordered elemental particles.
"HSSSS—"
Slime rained down like acid, corroding pits in the ground. Some devil soldiers had half their bodies melted, their helliron armor offering zero protection.
A single whip of its slime-coated tentacle swept up thousands of players and devils.
"No!"
"Help me!"
"Damn it, stop that tentacle! Don't let it through!"
"AAAAHHH! It's so gross—"
Touching the black slime produced a terrible hiss. Skin melted, then flesh, organs, and finally bones—all dissolved into the demon's food.
Buzzing like flies, the Rot Harbingers dove into the crowd, spewing foul mucus that stripped flesh and exposed bloody muscle and bone.
"Fuck, this boss is so disgusting. We can't even do damage, and it has a bunch of nasty little minions."
"Are we actually gonna lose this war quest?"
"Fucking shit-tier design. What were the devs smoking? This thing looks like someone's intestines!"
"What sensitivity settings are y'all on? This stench is unreal—I'm gonna puke!"
With the Lord of Blackwater's arrival, the tide of battle flipped instantly.
In mere minutes, casualties among players and devils soared into the hundreds of thousands. Their defensive line was crumbling.
"Quick! Hold it off!"
"This thing is unstoppable!"
The beast crossed the moat. Chaos erupted within the hell legions. Screams and panic filled the air. Even devil ranks broke.
This was no mere demon—this was a world-ending abomination.
Devils spoke not of duty, sacrifice, or bravery. They followed only one rule: profit.
And their calculation was simple: flee, and maybe live. Stay, and die.
Even the high-ranking devil officer flapped his wings and flew toward the Bronze Fortress. He sliced a lesser devil down and shouted, "Who said you could retreat?! Stand and fight!"
But a slimy tentacle lashed out through the air.
The officer's face twisted in terror. He flapped desperately, even burned his power trying to teleport away.
But under abyssal suppression, spells failed. His efforts were pitiful.
"No—you can't kill me!"
With a final scream, the elite devil was caught like a fly and fed to the black slime.
After the Lord of Blackwater arrived, the hell defense shattered like a flood-swamped dam.
Seeing the losing tide, Cassius glanced at Bael's gloomy face and raised a brow. "Abyssal monsters really are fascinating. So, Bael, think you can take it?"
"If you need help, I can step in. Of course… that'll cost extra."
Bael frowned. "And what would that cost me?"
Cassius smiled. "Friendly price. Half of your hell authority… and a colony the size of a kingdom."
"Are you mad?"
Bael sneered, "Tch, you really are Tiamat's spawn. Just as greedy as always."
Cassius replied calmly, "With leverage, who wouldn't bargain? If you ask my dear mother for help, she'd probably demand your title as Hell Lord."
"Given this moment of life or death, I'm being very generous, Lord Bael."
Bael growled, "Cassius, you're too greedy. I will never accept such outrageous terms."
Cassius tilted his head. "So—you're going to handle it yourself?"
"Of course."
Before his words finished, Bael unfurled his bat wings, gripped his Infernal Greatsword, and soared skyward.
Watching the Hell Warlord ascend, Cassius sighed. Another missed chance to half-colonize Avernus.
Still, it wasn't urgent. With more players joining Avernus, deeper cooperation, and Cassius' growing strength, Bael would eventually become a "puppet lord" under the Ember Empire.
But for now, seeing the Lord of Avernus in action would be quite the show.