Last night, Level Six of Hell.
"Why replace us just because Hell disappears?" Ash questioned, "Or, does it mean if Hell doesn't disappear, you can't replace us?"
Death Mad leaned against the broken stone pillar, shaking the Smoke Ash from his hand, disappearing before it hit the ground. Just when Death Mad said, "We want to replace you," Ash attacked without hesitation, but it was in vain—Death Mad wasn't a being in reality, rather a Phantom only he could see.
Exactly like the time he met her in Shattered Lake Prison.
She could scorch Ash's palm with a cigarette, yet Ash couldn't even touch her.
"We've always been able to replace you." She calmly said, "Just at different costs."
"The ideal situation is to wait until all of you ascend to the Supreme of Magic; that's the harvest season. Once you reach our pre-resurrection limit, taking over you is Fearless against Fate's constraints."
Ash's mood sank bit by bit, a chilling cold penetrating his spine:
