"So tell me—how can someone who relies on borrowed power become so arrogant?"
The force behind Shalba's punch was enough to split mountains and shatter stone, yet Yoru simply stood there, watching him, and spoke at an unhurried pace.
"Impossible! I've fully mastered the 'snake' Lord Ophis bestowed upon me! My power should already surpass that of a Maou!"
It was the exact same claim Diodora had made earlier, and Yoru couldn't help but feel amused.
"Power given by others will never truly be your own. The reason weaklings are foolish… is because they don't realize just how weak they actually are."
The moment his words fell, Yoru clenched his fist and swung it toward the unsuspecting Shalba.
It looked nothing like the overwhelming blow Shalba had thrown earlier. This punch had no waves of force, no visible shock—just an ordinary strike, pale and unremarkable. Yet, seeing it, Shalba's eyes widened in shock.
The feeling of death instantly consumed his entire being. There was no way to dodge—it was as if he was facing his natural enemy.
And indeed, it was his natural enemy. Against Nezha's power, any form of Dragon's might was a joke.
His face twisted as his body was sent hurtling backward, the world around him becoming distorted and surreal.
He felt as if his skull had been shattered by that single punch. He couldn't even tell whether he was alive or dead.
Soon, even thought itself faded, his consciousness blurring as his body turned into a shadow, crashing hard into the temple wall.
Boom!
The explosion echoed. In the sizzling sound of stone being corroded, the wall where Shalba had struck crumbled into fragments, collapsing entirely and burying him under the debris.
Without sparing him another glance, Yoru turned his eyes back to the empty sky.
"So… how about you come out and meet me, Ophis? I'm really interested in you. And I think you're interested in me too, right? So… how about it?"
But there was no response. A faint trace of disappointment crossed Yoru's face. Had he been wrong? Was Ophis not watching him?
Then… what was this strange feeling, as if someone's gaze had been on him all this time?
As he pondered this and started toward the collapsed wall where Shalba was buried, a sudden, overwhelming sense of danger erupted from deep within his heart.
His expression turned grim. In the same instant, he darted aside at high speed, and a beautifully-crafted, diamond-shaped ice shield materialized in front of him.
At that exact moment, from the space he had just vacated, a white skeletal claw tore through the air.
The claw's force was unstoppable—it smashed Yoru's hastily-conjured ice shield to pieces with ease, then continued forward, striking Yoru squarely in the body.
"Urgh—!"
This was without a doubt the most powerful enemy Yoru had ever faced. The sudden sneak attack had dealt him a heavy blow.
"Interesting… the power of death, huh?"
Forcing down the blood rising in his throat, Yoru coldly eyed the skeletal claw emerging from the spatial rift.
Sensing Yoru's retreat, a chilling snort came from within the rift. The claw's owner didn't press the attack. Instead, after forcing Yoru back, it reached toward the rubble where Shalba lay buried.
In the blink of an eye, a black mass was snatched up and pulled into the spatial rift—vanishing without a trace.
It had all happened so quickly that no one else in the arena had seen it.
Crack… crackle…
With the claw's departure, the illusory arena created by the barrier began to shatter apart. Moments later, a group of figures appeared in Yoru's sight.
"Are you okay?"
Rias, her crimson hair fluttering, ran toward him with worry in her eyes. Seeing the blood at the corner of his lips, her heart ached.
"I'm fine. Just got ambushed by someone."
Yoru waved his hand, indicating it was nothing serious. From the other side, Sirzechs and Azazel approached—and to Yoru's surprise, so did Odin, the lecherous old man.
It seemed that despite his unpleasant personality, the Norse Chief God wasn't disliked because of moments like this—he could be unexpectedly reliable.
"A soul injury… Kid, what did you run into?!"
Odin's eyes narrowed in surprise as he examined Yoru's condition.
"I'm not sure. It was a skeletal claw that tore through space."
At those words, not only Odin, but the two Maou present also stiffened in shock.
"…A skeletal claw that tears space?!"
Odin's usually carefree face now showed deep wariness and even a hint of dread.
"It was that bag of bones—Hades. Could it be that he's planning to ally himself with that terrorist organization? If so, that's a real problem."
For someone of Odin's stature to react like this, Yoru grew curious about who exactly this "Hades" was.
"Hades…? Lord Odin, you mean that Hades, the ruler of the Underworld…?" Rias asked cautiously, as if seeking confirmation.
"I don't want to admit it, but yes—it was him. The Lord of the Underworld, ruler of death and souls—the Grim Reaper himself, Hades!"
Everyone drew in a sharp breath—except for Yoru, whose eyes gleamed with a peculiar light.
"W-why would the ruler of the Underworld target Ken… and even rescue the Old Maou, Shalba Beelzebub…?"
"Hmph! That bag of bones despises all other pantheons—especially you devils, who are among those he hates the most. If it weren't for Sirzechs's deterrence, he might have already waged war on the Underworld."
From Odin's tone, it was clear he didn't think much of Hades either. Stroking his long white beard that trailed to the ground, Odin's expression turned pensive.
"But kidnapping an Old Maou… Hades is far too arrogant to accept the Old Maou Faction's allegiance. Damn it—what is that sinister skeleton planning? Could he really be trying to start a world war?!"
By the end of his words, Odin's voice carried clear anger toward Hades's actions.
---
Access more chapters at patreon.com/dzeref887
Read my new novel translation.