The surface of the great lake was in complete chaos, shaken violently by the titanic battle between a brave knight and the King of Hell himself, Mephisto. Gigantic waves rolled out in every direction, devouring the banks and dragging entire lakeside homes into the furious water. It was a battle not just of power, but of principles — light versus shadow, soul versus sin.
BOOM!
Through the crashing waves, a streak of flame sliced across the sky before a young figure came plummeting down, smashing into the lake like a meteor. Mud erupted from the bottom, clouding the water and turning it murky.
Bubbles rose. Blood leaked from the corner of the boy's mouth.
Deep beneath the surface, the youth clenched his teeth, struggling to maintain consciousness. He was injured — no doubt about that — but he didn't seem to care. What mattered was that he'd narrowly escaped something far worse: contamination by Mephisto's Hellfire.
He had seen firsthand what it did. This wasn't fire that burned flesh — it burned souls.
Once it touched your spirit, it would ignite it endlessly. No matter how small a fragment remained, the Hellfire would cling to it, devouring what made you you until only pain and screams remained. A truly cursed flame.
The boy, known to most as Sanjid, shivered at the thought. If he hadn't reacted quickly, if he had hesitated even for a moment, he would have lost everything. His body, his soul, his mission.
Now, as he floated to the surface, he exhaled with relief but also respect — true fear and awe at the strength of the one called the King of Demons.
"So this… is what Bella faced alone?" he murmured as his head broke through the surface of the water.
He stood atop the lake, soaked but defiant. The once-raging waves had now calmed, but the atmosphere remained charged, humming with holy and unholy energy.
Floating a short distance away, cloaked in eerie red light, was Mephisto, arms outstretched like a dark preacher basking in his own twisted sermon.
"This is only a glimpse of true power!" Mephisto bellowed into the night. "Only a mere fraction — one ten-thousandth — of my glory as the Great Demon King!" His voice echoed across the water, seductive and powerful. "Cast aside your weakness. Embrace Hell, and I will grant you the power to rule everything. You'll become a god!"
But Sanjid simply scoffed.
"A god who kneels to you is no god at all," he replied coldly. "There is only one king I follow — and it's not you."
He raised his hand, and the battered silver cross-shaped sword he held disintegrated into glowing particles. In its place, a radiant blue magic circle expanded across the lake beneath his feet, and from it emerged two divine weapons — one glowing crimson, the other pure white.
"You dare—?!" Mephisto's grin faltered.
His blood-red eyes narrowed as he saw the weapons materialize. A deep growl rumbled in his throat.
He recognized the energy instantly.
These weren't ordinary weapons. They were pseudo-artifacts — divine weapons of enormous destructive potential, infused with the holy breath of Asgard and the mysticism of the Sanctum Sanctorum.
"So this is her doing," Mephisto muttered, his voice darkening. "That woman..."
He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to.
Bella.
Even now, her presence lingered in the weapons she left behind.
The hell king's demonic form shimmered, and he spoke in an ancient, forbidden language not meant for mortal ears. The water beneath him churned violently as if opening a portal to another dimension.
CRACK!
Suddenly, the lake bottom split apart, revealing fiery rifts leading to the realm of Hell itself. Through the cracks, dozens of chains made of burning hellfire burst forth, spiraling up through the lake and snaking toward Sanjid with deadly speed.
At the same time, the lake itself surged, as if the ocean was being dropped upon him.
This was no longer a test or a taunt.
Mephisto was trying to kill him.
But Sanjid didn't back down.
His fingers wrapped tightly around the twin guns. Magic coursed through them, the air around him distorting from the raw, divine power.
The wind howled. The sky flickered between night and day.
His coat flapped violently, and even though the strain made his arms tremble and his face contort in agony, his eyes never lost focus.
The blue veins on his forehead bulged. Magic was being burned like oil in an inferno, but still — he stood.
"Hecate's Elegy!" he screamed.
The crimson and white guns lit up, forming two radiant magic circles at their muzzles. They spun like vortexes, then erupted — sending out torrents of divine energy.
BOOOOOOM!!!
The beams tore through the hellish chains like paper. The boiling lake evaporated. The burning red and pure white lights blasted directly toward Mephisto, who barely had time to react.
His demonic eyes reflected the oncoming destruction before everything was swallowed by light.
The resulting explosion split the heavens.
The lake no longer existed — evaporated into steam. The surrounding forests were flattened, and waves of holy energy radiated outward, leveling the nearby houses and blasting away anything unholy in its path.
It was a cataclysm.
Meanwhile, across the ruined town, on a rooftop, Clint Barton fired a perfect shot from his perch. His arrow struck a vampire mid-air, and it exploded into ash.
"These freaks just don't stop!" he muttered, glancing at the Blood Clan swarming the streets below.
He tossed a grenade without looking — BOOM! A blast of silver spikes exploded, clearing dozens more vampires in an instant.
Over his comms, Tony Stark's voice crackled in:
"I've lost sight of Johnny and the kid. No comms signal either. I think something's happening over there…"
But before he could finish the sentence—
A massive shockwave ripped through the city.
The earth trembled. Buildings rattled. It felt like a magnitude 7 earthquake had just hit them.
Red and white lights exploded into the sky, shining so brightly that the night turned to day.
Even the vampires froze, their eyes drawn to the epicenter.
On the ground, Steve Rogers, shield in hand, was fighting off a horde of Blood Clan when the explosion happened. His eyes widened.
He recognized the light.
"That's... Bella's magic," he muttered.
Without hesitation, he turned toward his allies.
"Thor! Hulk! Move! Now!" he barked, rallying the Avengers.
Back at the impact zone, the dust slowly settled.
The lake had been annihilated. All that remained was a scorched crater, faintly glowing with residual holy energy. Steam hissed into the night, and silence reigned.
Sanjid fell to one knee, exhausted. His guns had vanished, the magic drained from his body.
But Mephisto... was nowhere to be seen.
Had he been destroyed?
Or had he merely retreated?
There was no sign of his presence — no scent of sulfur, no echo of demonic laughter. Just silence.
But Sanjid didn't let his guard down. He knew Mephisto was not so easily killed.
And he knew one thing for sure — he had survived. He had faced the King of Hell and lived.
Because of Bella. Because of the power she entrusted to him.
As he looked up at the sky, the stars began to return, twinkling above the steam. He smiled.
"This is your elegy, Bella. Your power. Your legacy."
End of Chapter 154.
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