It isn't quite accurate to say that I'm lost.
To be precise, Constantine couldn't find his way back.
And in this Hell,
not only did no demons attack him,
on the contrary—when demons saw him, they ran away.
There were also mindless creatures roaming about; Constantine was speechless.
I'm supposed to be the vanguard of the invasion of Hell.
So much for that.
He wanted to cry.
He smoked a cigarette as yellow sand blew straight into his face.
Why did it feel like he was only getting farther and farther from where he needed to be?
What a tragedy.
At this moment, a new line of text lit up in the group.
Tanjirou: "Then build an altar already. Don't be an idiot!"
The Money-Loving Fox: "He's obviously anxious. If you've got people around, it's fine—set up a transmission channel."
Demon Hunter: "Hey, I came to Hell to have tea with Satan, but that old boy totally snubbed me and ran off! Fake…"
Blond Boy Sam: "Then make an altar and summon a goddess heroic spirit to help. Got any sacrifices?"
Demon Hunter: "Yeah, there are still some trinkets in Hell."
In front of him,
a black, dragon-etched longsword lay on the ground.
It was a magical weapon—
a treasure of Hell—
brimming with energy, enough to power an altar.
Countless black divine runes rose from the earth and fanned out to form a vast array.
The rocks on the ground,
drawn by supernatural force,
gathered into a square altar.
Click.
The magic sword plunged into the center of the altar.
Constantine began to pray.
29 "Great God of Eternity, Your believer Constantine is in trouble and seeks the aid of a goddess heroic spirit. With this magic sword as a sacrifice, I summon a heroic spirit to descend into this world…"
When the chanting ended,
black light speared into the sky.
…
God-Realm.
A cluster of Dark Goddesses at play all received the notice at once.
"I'm going!!"
"No way, Sister Baguio, it's my turn this time…"
"You're crazy, Yaoyao. Shouldn't I get a turn this time?!"
"All of you, stop it. We've all been to the lower realm. Let El Quette go this time."
El Quette.
Commonly known as Sister Kui.
She was a woman who seemed calm but was actually battle-mad.
Even Yaoyao feared her a little.
Because when El Quette fought, reason didn't apply at all.
And thanks to her former existence as a vampire, she had extraordinary regenerative power.
She specialized in the soul, too.
Now, body and soul alike were terrifyingly strong.
Among the goddesses, she was a solid mid-to-upper-tier figure.
At this time, El Quette was holding a book and quietly savoring the story. Hearing her friends chatter, she folded the book with a small smile. "Sisters, don't quarrel. If you want to go, go. I can keep reading."
Compared to going down to the lower world to play,
she preferred to socialize here and read.
However, since she said that,
no one else felt like going.
Instead, they gave the honor to El Quette.
Seeing that her sisters had stopped arguing,
the blonde, mature woman smoothed her hair, her body dissolved into blood, and she vanished from sight.
"You think El Quette is going to dominate the lower realm again?"
"Mm… maybe."
"Depends on the world, right?"
"So which world is Sister Kui going to?"
"A world of ghosts and gods—its priest is trapped in Hell and can't find his way back…"
…
In an instant,
the room fell silent.
The goddesses held their foreheads.
Yaoyao ground her teeth and sighed. "We were just bickering and totally forgot—that woman goes all-in when she fights."
"It's fine. Didn't Ishtar get knocked around not long ago? If she gets punished, she'll be quiet for a bit."
Karen was delighted, though her face stayed cool.
How delicious.
Hehehe…
There weren't many goddess summons now; most worlds had already been gathered into the God-Realm.
Only a few still needed help.
So they treasured every chance to go out.
This time, though, the geographical environment was abysmal.
Light and Life factions both passed on it.
The other factions didn't want Hell at all; only the Dark Goddesses wanted to go.
Otherwise, this would've been the Light Element Goddess's turn.
…
El Quette sat upon the Stage of the Gods; her soul separated swiftly under the pull of the summoning.
In the blink of an eye,
she arrived in a Hell of wind and sand.
Constantine, beside himself with relief, bowed flatly. "Greetings, My Lady Goddess. May I ask your name?"
Burgundy eyes regarded him.
"El Quette." Then: "What do you need?"
"It's like this. I used instant teleportation to get into Hell, but it dumped me straight into the back corner. It's been ten days now—I still haven't found a portal out of Hell. The army can't get here…"
Constantine poured out his grievance.
"Oh, that's all."
El Quette's tone was extremely flat.
No reaction at all.
Then Constantine was so frightened he nearly wet his pants.
"Since we're simply in Hell, we'll just destroy it. As for the portal, we'll crack a gap between the two worlds."
Before the words finished falling,
El Quette stamped her foot.
The ground for thousands of miles around shattered on the spot, a terrifying hurricane erupting from her body.
Her long golden hair
turned blood-red in an instant.
A smoky armor shrouded her—face and all.
"Bloodline Magic Art: Flying Dragon Break!"
El Quette roared.
Her fist smashed into the weakest point in the sky.
Crack.
For ten thousand miles, the firmament laced over with spiderwebbing fissures—
then splintered apart.
Only then did Constantine see Hell's true face, and understand why he hadn't been able to find the way.
He had been trapped inside a spell.
Using a world as the anchor,
a small world had been created.
If not for El Quette's strike, he would have remained in the dark.
It was shameful to think about.
This Satan was a wily old thing.
Just then,
in the true depths of the Demon Realm, Satan suddenly jolted awake; the wineglass in his hand slipped, hit the floor, and shattered.
"Well, the barrier's broken!! The messenger of God should be here…"
This was the most beautiful place in the demon world,
and at the same time, the place where evil gathered the most.
The Seven Deadly Sins.
The Fallen Angel camp.
A multitude of Dark Wizards.
Woooooo—
As the trombone of horns sounded,
the demon army assembled at speed.
A red light speared the sky and came down before the gates of Satan's palace.
The shock wave
obliterated the buildings nearby.
Even the magic arrays were crushed one by one.
Satan's face grew extremely solemn.
A slow bead of cold sweat tracked down his cheek.
He could actually smell a darker breath radiating from the other side.
Through the smoke,
El Quette walked out at an unhurried pace. The air-currents spiraling around her looked like living tentacles, waving lazily in the void.
"So it's you—the one who's been defying God's decree?"
Her voice was cold and rasping,
like frost from the ninth heaven, boring into everyone's hearts.
Satan wanted to say, It wasn't me, I didn't—
But the Arrogant Demon beside him bellowed, "What kind of bird are you, mouthing off to our Lord of Hell? With me—kill this stinking woman!"
"Heh-heh-heh… I like this fallen woman—her scent is intoxicating. I can't help wanting a taste…"
The Demon King of Desire sauntered forward.
They were all vile, one and all,
and none of the demon kings noticed Satan's face twisting.
El Quette snorted and couldn't be bothered to answer.
Her body vanished on the spot.
Puff.
A spray of blood blossomed in midair.
The Arrogant Demon's entire body was ripped into pieces of flesh—so fast that no one saw it coming.
"Time—freeze!"
The Demon King of Desire roared.
Time in the area simply stopped.
It wasn't only Lucifer who could use such spells; they could, too.
At that moment, the Demon King of Desire realized those strange red tentacles had already slid beneath his jaw.
The next step would be his obliteration. 980
Satan's eyes lit—thinking he'd seized his chance—he unleashed his power to smother El Quette.
Just as he moved,
a cold voice drifted into his ear.
"Do you really think time is under your control?"
In Satan's consciousness, he had already rushed forward and struck this strange woman.
But in reality,
he hadn't moved at all.
Time was still stopped—only this time, they were the ones controlled.
The scarlet tentacles flexed and tightened.
El Quette's voice sounded again.
"Our God holds true time. Even goddesses like me, who aren't specialists in time, can master time magic.
So… I was toying with you just now. I'm bored now. You can all die."
Puff.
Puff.
With each wet sound, a flower of blood opened.
Satan's blood ran black.
After death he re-formed in the blood—his power only diminished.
"It seems that, as King of Hell, you've got some strength. Then how about this?"
She felt the little divine power left in her body.
A blood-soaked divine curse flared in El Quette's palm.
"Bloodline Magic Curse—Kill."
She used blood as the medium and cursed Satan, Lord of Hell, to death.
The whole of Hell shuddered.
It was as if the realm itself wept for Satan's fall.
Before the Goddess of Blood, Satan was nothing but a toy.
Great gouts of blood streamed down.
Satan—dead in the truest sense!
El Quette turned and said to the figure behind her, "Well, that was fun. Goodbye~~"
Her smile bloomed bright—
like a big sister from next door.
Constantine answered her without thinking.
Only when her figure vanished did the magic sword he'd offered as a sacrifice reappear before him.
In the end it crumbled into wind and sand, and disappeared.
"This goddess… is she evil, or innocent…"
She killed without blinking—more terrifying in her evil than any demon.
But when it was all over, her smile was purer than a naked child's.