Chapter : 1881

  Beelzebub was furious. His hunger was a primal force that refused to be denied. His massive body vibrated, fighting against the grey stagnation. The iron staples on his stomach groaned as his maw tried to open.

  "You... interfere!" Beelzebub roared, the sound slowly speeding up as he broke through the time dilation. "I am... hungry!"

  He took a step. The heavy air shattered around his leg like glass. He opened his mouth and vomited a stream of concentrated acid. The acid sizzled through the grey field, eating away the concept of stillness.

  Beside him, Mammon moved. The Prince of Greed was not angry; he was calculating. His golden mask reflected the struggling form of his sister.

  "Sister," Mammon hissed, his golden chains rattling violently. "You are weak. You are broken. You think you can stop the inevitable? You cannot hold us both. That human is mine. His soul is shiny. I want to put it in my vault."

  Mammon raised his hands. Dozens of golden coins materialized in the air. He flicked them forward. They didn't fly like bullets; they moved with the weight of greed. Each coin exploded on contact with the Sloth Field, creating cracks in the grey air.

  Crack. Crack. Shatter.

  Monalisa winced. A line of grey stone shot out up her cheek, freezing half of her face in a petrified expression of pain. She was burning her own life force to fuel the barrier.

  "Engineer..." Monalisa groaned, not opening her eyes. "You should probably do something clever now. I am going to nap. Wake me up when you win."

  The barrier failed.

  It sounded like a window breaking in a storm. The grey stillness evaporated. The deafening buzz of the fly swarm returned instantly, louder than before. The flies, freed from stasis, surged forward with renewed fury.

  Beelzebub lunged, his claws reaching for Lloyd’s head. Mammon’s golden chains shot out like vipers, aiming to bind Ben.

  Ben didn't cower. He shoved Lloyd aside, stepping into the path of the chains with his lance raised, his face twisted in a snarl of pure defiance. "Back off! If anyone kills him, it's going to be me!"

  Lloyd braced himself, expecting to be crushed. The Nova Cannon had cooled down; he couldn't trigger the explosion in time. Monalisa was incapacitated. They were out of cards.

  Beelzebub’s hand was inches away. Lloyd could smell the rotting meat on the demon's breath.

  Then, the second miracle happened.

  It didn't come with a bang. It came with a smell.

  Suddenly, the smell of rot, sulfur, and ozone vanished. It was replaced by a crisp, clean scent. It smelled of salt. It smelled of deep, cold water and crashing waves.

  The humidity in the room spiked, but it wasn't the gross, sticky heat of Gluttony. It was a cool, damp mist that clung to the skin.

  A vertical rift tore open in the air right next to Lloyd. It wasn't jagged and violent like Beelzebub’s entry. It was smooth, silent, and elegant. It looked like a dark blue curtain being pulled back by an invisible hand.

  From the rift, a woman stepped out.

  She was tall and veiled in layers of fabric that shifted color like the ocean tides—deep blue, foam white, and sea green. You couldn't see her face, only the outline of her form. Her presence was heavy, but not with gravity. It was heavy with emotion.

  It was pure, distilled Envy.

  She was Leviathan, the Prince of Envy.

  She didn't look at Lloyd. She didn't look at Ben. She turned her veiled head toward Beelzebub and Mammon. She didn't say a word. She didn't need to. Her aura screamed her intent.

  She looked at Beelzebub’s meal, and she hated that he had it. She looked at Mammon’s prize, and she despised that he wanted it.

  She didn't want Lloyd for herself. She simply couldn't bear the thought of her brothers getting what they wanted.

  Leviathan raised both hands, palms facing outward.

  "Authority of Envy: The Denial of Desire."

  A massive wave crashed into the room.

  It wasn't physical water. It was "Conceptual Water." It was the force of the ocean that washes away sandcastles. It washed away reality.

  The wave crashed into the fly swarm. The insects didn't drown; they were simply erased. One moment they were there, and the next, they were gone, washed away into nothingness.

  The wave hit Beelzebub. The giant mountain of gluttony was knocked off his feet. He tumbled backward, roaring in confusion as the water filled his mouth and pushed him away.

  Chapter : 1882

  The wave hit Mammon. His golden coins scattered, sinking into the invisible depths. The Prince of Greed was swept aside like driftwood.

  "Leviathan!" Mammon screamed, his voice bubbling as if he were underwater. "You jealous witch! Why?!"

  Then, the wave hit Lloyd, Ben, and the sleeping Monalisa.

  Lloyd braced himself, expecting to be crushed. But the water was gentle. It wrapped around him like a cool, protective blanket. He felt weightless. The sounds of the battle became muffled, distant echoes.

  He felt the sensation of being pulled backward, fast.

  Leviathan swept them into the rift. The darkness swallowed them whole.

  They were traveling through the deep ley-lines of the world. It looked like a tunnel made of rushing water and bioluminescent lights. They were moving beneath the crust of the Abyss, moving faster than any ship or dragon, far beyond the reach of Beelzebub’s hunger.

  Lloyd floated in the current, watching the lights flash by. He saw Ben floating beside him, thrashing angrily against the current, his mouth moving in a silent curse as he realized he was being "saved" again. He saw Monalisa, her stone arm hanging limp, drifting in the stream like a sleeping princess.

  Lloyd looked at the veiled figure of Leviathan guiding them through the dark waters.

  "Why?" Lloyd asked, his voice echoing strangely in the tunnel. "Why help us? We are nothing to you."

  Monalisa, drifting beside him, opened one eye. She looked exhausted, but her smile was sharp, amused, and knowing.

  "Because she Envies, little lion," Monalisa whispered, her voice barely audible. "She Envies Beelzebub's meal. She Envies Mammon's new toy. She cannot bear for them to have satisfaction. If Beelzebub eats you, he wins. If Mammon captures you, he wins. Leviathan hates it when others win."

  Monalisa closed her eye again, a faint smile on her stone-cracked lips.

  "She didn't save you because she likes you, Lloyd. She saved you to spite them. She took the toy away so nobody else could play with it. It seems you are quite the popular collectible today."

  Lloyd stared at the rushing water. "That is... incredibly petty."

  "It is her nature," Monalisa murmured, drifting back into sleep. "Welcome to the politics of Hell. Don't worry, darling, I'll protect you from her too. You're mine."

  The current accelerated. The water grew brighter. They were being deposited somewhere safe, somewhere neutral. Lloyd realized with a sinking feeling that he wasn't just a mechanic or a soldier anymore.

  He had walked into a room with four Demon Kings, and he had survived. He was now a player in their game, a pawn that everyone wanted to capture, eat, or hide.

  As the light swallowed them, Lloyd held tight to his Nova Cannon. The battle for Gator City was over, but the war for his soul had just begun.

  The watery ride through the ley-lines came to an abrupt end. The rushing bioluminescent lights faded, and the cool current of Leviathan’s mana deposited them gently onto solid, dry ground.

  Lloyd found himself back in the neutral zone—a quiet, misty landscape that existed between the hostile territories of the Princes. The air here was thin and grey, smelling of nothing but cold stone and fog. It was a stark contrast to the humid rot of Gator City.

  Beside him, Ben hit the ground hard, rolling to his feet instantly with his lance raised. The golden glow that had empowered him was gone, leaving his prosthetic limbs looking dull, scorched, and grey, but his pride was intact. He glared at the empty mist, furious. "I didn't need a bath," Ben growled, spitting water. "I had Mammon right where I wanted him."

  Nearby, Monalisa lay on her shadow cushion. Her arm and part of her face were now completely turned to stone. She had fallen into a deep, defensive sleep to preserve what little life force she had left.

  Lloyd stood up slowly, the joints of his Aegis suit groaning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small cloth bundle. Inside was the black seed of the Spirit Fruit—the "Life-Eater" seed he had harvested from the city’s energy grid.

  He looked at the sleeping Prince of Sloth. He realized that the landscape of his war had changed fundamentally. He wasn't just an engineer or a soldier anymore; he had officially entered the "Great Game" of the Devil Princes. He was a man with the cure to a god’s sickness, and his only allies were the embodiments of Envy and Sloth.

  "Well," Lloyd said to the misty air, a sarcastic smirk touching his lips. "At least my allies have personality. I suppose I should be grateful I didn't get stuck with Lust. That would have been awkward."

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  He pocketed the seed securely. He checked his System Coins—the cost of the "Void Wood" and the suit repairs would be high, but the harvest had been worth it. He turned to Ben, who was still fuming. The traitor was dead, but the real work of surviving the Abyss was just beginning.

  Chapter : 1883

  The sensation of spatial travel was never pleasant. It felt like being squeezed through a very thin straw while the rest of the universe spun in the wrong direction. But this time, it was simply an annoyance. The exit from Gator City hadn’t been a desperate escape; it had been a tactical relocation initiated by a third party just as the fight was getting interesting.

  When the swirling vortex of water and shadow finally spit them out, Lloyd Ferrum touched down with practiced grace. He didn't crash; he simply absorbed the momentum, his boots skidding slightly on polished black stone before he snapped into a perfect combat stance. He didn't pant or heave. He stood with the calm, regulated breathing of a machine, his chest steady, his eyes scanning the new environment with the cold, rapid-fire processing speed of a combat computer.

  "Clear," Lloyd muttered, though the word was laced with frustration. His body hummed with the adrenaline of the backlash from the fight with Rubel, and his mana reserves were still surging, agitated by a battle that had been cut short. He wasn't running on empty; he was running hot.

  A few feet away, Ben Ironwood landed. He didn't roll. He didn't stumble. He simply hit the ground with the heavy, metallic thud of a war machine and stood up straight, immovable as a mountain. Steam hissed from the joints of his prosthetic legs, not from damage, but from the rapid cooling of his combat systems. He dusted off his shoulder with a look of supreme annoyance, as if the dimensional travel was merely a rude interruption to his day.

  "Sloppy," Ben said. His voice was deep and lacked any warmth. He looked around the silent chamber, his mechanical eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the lighting. "That exit vector was unstable. If I hadn't reinforced my internal gyroscope, I would be irritated right now. The magic in this realm is crude. Powerful, but crude."

  "We are positioned, Ben," Lloyd said, standing up and straightening his coat. He checked his Nova Cannon arm; it was glowing faintly, still holding a charge he hadn't fired yet. "In my book, that counts as a successful calibration."

  Ben let out a short, sharp scoff. "Interruption is the baseline, Lord Lloyd. It is not an achievement. The fact that we had to disengage from trash like Beelzebub is an insult to my engineering. I had the calculations ready for a counter-offensive."

  Lloyd ignored the jab. He knew Ben well enough by now. The man was arrogant, prickly, and possessed an ego the size of a small moon. But he was also right. They hadn't run because they were afraid of dying. They had been moved. If Leviathan hadn't intervened, they wouldn't be dead—they would have just been forced to burn down half the city to finish the job.

  Lloyd turned his attention to where they were. They weren't in a wasteland. They weren't in a cave or a dungeon. They were standing in a hall that defied every expectation Lloyd had about the Devil Realm.

  The architecture was vast, soaring hundreds of feet into the air, but it wasn't the jagged, chaotic rock formations he had seen in Beelzebub’s territory. This place was... organized. The black stone walls were smooth and perfectly cut. The pillars were spaced with mathematical precision. The floor was a seamless expanse of obsidian that reflected the pale, blue light emanating from glowing crystals set into the ceiling at regular intervals. The air smelled sterile, like ozone and cold stone, lacking the sulfurous stench of the rest of the Abyss.

  It didn't look like a demon's lair. It looked like a corporate headquarters designed by a minimalist architect with an unlimited budget. It felt strangely, hauntingly familiar.

  "Where are we?" Lloyd whispered, his guard still up. "This doesn't feel like the Abyss."

  "It is the Abyss," Ben said, walking over to a pillar and inspecting it. He ran a metal finger along the surface, checking the density. "But the geometry is different. It’s cleaner. Efficient. Whoever built this place hates wasted space. Look at the load-bearing stress points. They are perfectly distributed."

  Ben turned back to Lloyd, a rare look of grudging interest on his face. "I hate to admit it, but the structural integrity here is... adequate. Better than the garbage back in the human kingdoms."

  "Adequate?" Lloyd raised an eyebrow. "That’s high praise coming from you."

  Chapter : 1884

  "Don't get used to it," Ben snapped. He looked toward the massive double doors at the far end of the hall. "So, the water-witch brought us here. Where is she? I don't like waiting."

  As if on cue, the massive doors groaned. They didn't creak with rust; they slid open with the smooth, silent hiss of perfectly oiled mechanics—or high-level wind magic mimicking mechanics.

  "Enter," a voice echoed from within. It was calm, cool, and commanded absolute obedience without needing to shout.

  Lloyd and Ben exchanged a look. Ben shrugged, his demeanor relaxed but ready to kill anything that moved. Lloyd took a breath, centered his mind, and walked forward.

  They entered a throne room that was even more impressive than the hall. It was a vast, circular chamber dominated by a central pool of dark, still water. Suspended above the water was a platform made of silver and glass. And sitting on a throne atop that platform was the entity known as Leviathan, the Devil Prince of Envy.

  She was humanoid, wearing a gown that seemed to be woven from the night sky itself, shimmering with tiny points of starlight. Her face was hidden behind a heavy veil of silver chainmail that obscured her features completely. She sat with perfect posture, her hands resting on the arms of the throne. To her left sat Monalisa, the Prince of Sloth, who looked bored and slightly terrified, clutching the Spirit Fruit Lloyd had given her earlier.

  "Welcome," Leviathan said. Her voice was distorted, layered with a magical resonance that made it impossible to identify her age or origin. "You have caused quite a mess in the Gluttony State, Lloyd Ferrum."

  Lloyd stopped ten paces from the pool. He didn't bow. He stood tall, acting the part of the Major General. "I cleaned up a mess," Lloyd corrected. "Viscount Rubel was a stain on my family and a liability to your world. You should be thanking me."

  Ben stood just behind Lloyd, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked at the Devil Queen not with fear, but with a critical, evaluating stare. He didn't speak, but his body language screamed that he was unimpressed by the theatrical lighting.

  "Thank you?" Leviathan tilted her head. "You started a war between the Princes. Beelzebub and Mammon are currently tearing the border apart looking for you. I risked my own standing to pull you out of the fire. And yet, you stand there with your chin up."

  "I am a busy man," Lloyd said flatly. "I don't have time for false modesty. You saved us for a reason. Devils don't do charity. Especially not for humans. So, let’s skip the pleasantries. What do you want? Is it the Aegis blueprints? The Lilith Stones? Or do you just want to use me as a weapon against the other Princes? Whatever the price is, state it. I prefer open negotiations."

  Leviathan stood up. She was tall, her presence filling the room. She glided down the steps of the platform, moving with a grace that was almost mechanical in its precision. She stopped at the edge of the dark pool, just a few feet from Lloyd.

  "You think this is a transaction," she said. "You think I want something from you."

  "Everyone wants something," Lloyd said, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. "That is the first rule of politics. And war. You didn't bring me here for tea."

  "Is that what you think?" Leviathan asked. The distortion in her voice faded slightly, becoming clearer. "Always the cynic. Always the soldier calculating the odds. You look at a miracle and you search for the wires."

  Ben let out a loud sigh from behind Lloyd. "We are wasting time," Ben grumbled. "She knows who we are. We know she has an agenda. Can we get to the point?"

  Leviathan ignored Ben. She kept her veiled face turned toward Lloyd. She raised her hands to her veil.

  "Stop looking for a fight, Major General," she whispered, her voice trembling just a little. "And look at me."

  The silence in the throne room became absolute. Even the ambient hum of the magical crystals seemed to fade away. Lloyd felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. His instincts, usually so sharp, were screaming conflicting signals. His combat sense told him she was a threat—a Sovereign-level entity capable of crushing him with a thought. But his intuition... his intuition was telling him something impossible.

  Leviathan lifted the veil.