Return Of The Strongest Player

Since consuming Devil Blood was taboo within Hell, stronger Devils kidnapped weaker Devils and feasted upon them in private, disallowing any commoners from even getting a glimpse of the delicious liquid.

Of course, many commoners killed their own families merely to lick Devil Blood, but they were condemned beyond belief for doing so.

That was why many refrained.

But now, after being summoned through a mysterious object that Nihilus could not identify, he received the opportunity of a lifetime–to consume what was considered dirty for commoners, even with Devil Standards.

'I have been unable to become a Devil Subordinate, no matter how hard I tried,' Nihilus clenched his teeth, imagining the possibilities. If he returned as a Devil Subordinate, wouldn't his peers be forced to respect him?

[A/N: Devil Subordinate is equivalent to Beast Subordinate (501-5000 Beast Marks)]

Hell was a place without morals. It revolved around solely power, with not a shred of remorse for any acts that might be considered atrocious, even in Heaven's Spire. If one was weak, even if they were correct, one would still be suppressed.

Only with a steel fist could one revolt.

The powerful suppressed, and the weak suffered the suppression.

Only by turning the tables, and entering the realm of the strong, could Nihilus begin his journey. He didn't wish for change or to fix the skewed system, but to merely enter the top half of the spectrum.

Once he did so, his words would gain much more authority.

"What do I do?" Nihilus asked, licking his glossy, cherry-red lips in a lewd manner. He longed for the taste of the blood of his species, his claws dancing in anticipation. "Kill that giant lizard thing over there?"

"I'll give you a down payment, first," Arthur suggested, pointing at a pile of rubble in the distance. He sneaked a glance at Bob's attack, noticing it was still brewing. Perhaps it was due to their hasty conversation or the sheer power of the Dragon's attack, but time felt surprisingly slow.

Nihilus turned in the direction Arthur faced, his expression brightening. Like a hungry dog, he hurriedly thanked the latter before running off into the distance, approaching the Gruelling Devil's corpse.

At that moment, Arthur felt a wave of exhaustion.

He narrowed his eyes, glancing at his purple wing, then the gold one. Both of them dwindled in terms of brightness and power, having been stripped of their initial majesty and glamorous appearance.

As soon as he furled his Celestial Wings, the Draconic Authority suppressing his existence intensified, but it wasn't something he couldn't endure–although with much strain. He sneaked a glance at Nihilus.

'If we fought right now, I would lose,' the crimson-eyed man concluded.

It was a scary feeling… To have to trust a Devil without the means to control him. Arthur couldn't help but release a sigh, realizing how low he'd fallen since the initiation of the Thirteenth Floor. Eros still smiled widely like a child.

'Yeah, my misery must be entertaining.'

Arthur raised his middle finger at the Guardian, causing him to grimace. However, the latter simply clenched his teeth, unwilling to react to the obvious provocation. It was natural that he–as the superior–would need to be the bigger person.

The crimson-eyed man maintained a thin layer of mana around his body, protecting himself from obvious harm. 

He then exhaled, relaxing his body amid a battlefield.

It didn't matter if, in only a few seconds, the Dragon would release his attack. It didn't matter that a Devil was present on the battlefield. Arthur was merely trying to sort his thoughts, to enter a calm state of mind…

In preparation for the State Of Mushin.

*

"My first time…" Nihilus muttered bashfully, turning a shade of scarlet due to embarrassment. With hesitation vivid in his actions, expression, and gaze, he squatted before the Gruelling Devil, staring at him. "It's one of these idiots…"

"Ew, consuming the blood of a barbarian disgusts me."

Sigh!

"But it's necessary. To grow stronger, I need to drink blood, even if it's of an inferior species," Nihilus concluded, lengthening his claws to an appropriate size and sharpness. He then extended his arm.

Rolling up the sleeves of his rather luxurious suit, he brutally stabbed the Gruelling Devil's abdomen, retrieving the small and large intestines with a single swoop. He laughed boisterously at the sight.

"Disgusting, yet so much power hidden within."

Crunch! Slurp!

"Never mind, I take that back. No matter the inferiority of the sub-species, this is the most delicious dish I've ever tasted," He licked the black blood from his fingers, commenting on the pleasant taste.

Nihilus then gouged out his eyes, munching on the eyeballs with a nonchalant expression.

Finally, within seconds, he slurped up all the black blood, finishing the massive Devil's corpse without even breaking a sweat. Instead of being exhausted or full, Nihilus wished for more and was overflowing with energy.

'Yes! This is what I want!'

Nihilus could feel it… He was merely a centimeter away from becoming a Devil Subordinate. When he did, he could–with much pleasure–betray the crimson-eyed man and return to Hell with unmatched power.

The Dragon would be but a toy after his ascension.

'Speaking of which, what is that dumbass doing?' Nihilus wondered, cocking his head. Turning around, he witnessed the sphere of unparalleled, intense energy shooting toward Arthur, yet the man did not move.

"What the fuck!?" Nihilus couldn't help but shout in indignation, bewildered by Arthur's course of action. 

"My fucking blood supply!"

With a crazed expression, he rushed toward the scene, his claws extended and blood smeared across his pale face. Shadows engulfed his feet, allowing him to travel long distances without breaking a sweat.

Within a couple of seconds, he arrived before the crimson-eyed man.

"What're you doing?" He asked, shoving Arthur with all his might.

Yet, Arthur did not move.

He was like a boulder, motionless, non-living, and unable to be moved even with an external force.

At that moment, a gaze devoid of emotions emerged from Arthur's eyes, which had only now opened.

"Move."