The Death Knell

The little devil flew crookedly, as if his body was not obeying its orders. It was still dozens of meters away from the three Deathstrokes, when it fell to the ground, then hurriedly crawled over, kowtowing repeatedly.

"Sir Supreme Mage, please don't kill me. I was appointed by the Queen to lead you. I have never eaten human souls. I am a good devil."

Hell is full of chaos, but it is also the place where classes are most clearly distinguished. The only truth pursued here is that the strong is respected.

Everything of the weak, including life and soul, belongs to the strong, so Deathstroke hasn't spoken yet, but just the title of Supreme Mage scares the kid to the point of shaking like chaff.

The most powerful spellcaster in the material dimension, is this title a title that anyone can claim?

It didn't know Deathstroke, nor did it know that Deathstroke was actually an Anti-Mage, but as long as it knew that it couldn't afford to offend the humans in front of it, that was enough.

Although Su Ming likes to inflict fear on others and use fear to achieve some of his own tactical goals, he doesn't want to target such a little devil. That would be too low.

"Get up and lead the way. If you delay my time any longer, I will extract your soul and feed it to the fourth-dimensional tapeworm."

He smiled kindly at the little devil and spoke warm and encouraging words.

There is no way, the world is like this, you want to have a good talk with the devil? They can't understand it. If you use language to communicate with demons, the temptation of profit or the threat of terror must be equal parts.

After hearing this familiar curse and threat, the little devil became more relaxed. It smiled and nodded repeatedly, got up from the ground, flapped its red bat wings and took off into the air, hovering at a height slightly lower than the sight of the death knell:

"Of course, of course, the great Supreme Mage and two distinguished ladies, please come with me. I will never dare to waste your time. Please fly this way."

Its flying speed was too slow, so Su Ming simply caught it on the flying carpet and only needed to guide it.

The relationship between the hell dimensions is similar to the relationship between the hell lords. Because they both belong to hell, there are various connections between these dimensions, giving people the feeling that they are like the nine realms on the world tree.

Each is independent, but it is a whole. According to logic and common sense, this whole is located in the broken field of the middle dimension.

But the magical world on the mysterious side doesn't follow logic and common sense, so it's not there.

It sounds a bit like a tongue twister, but Su Ming feels that it exists more in people's common consciousness. It is human desires and dark fantasies that constitute hell.

First there were humans, humans had thoughts, and thoughts gave birth to hell.

In short, starting from Satana's hell, you can lead to the territories of Marduk, Mephisto, Satanish and others. If you pass through Mephisto's territory, you can reach the border of Mysterio's hell. After passing the limbo of hell, you can return to the real material world, which is the main dimension controlled by Deathstroke.

There is little meaning in memorizing these things, because for those who want to go to hell, they can go directly to wherever they go.

It is impossible to leave a certain hell by physical movement. It requires at least a magical magical object that can travel through dimensions like a magic floating cloak. As for whether riding in Barry is feasible, Su Ming is not sure. Maybe he can do it next time if he has a chance. Try it in DC.

The scenery in each hell is different, which is often a manifestation of the power attributes of its corresponding lord. There are countless demons staring at the moving people along the way, but no one dares to come up and block the way.

The black and yellow armor is really a warning color. A devil with a little common sense will automatically retreat when he sees the death knell.

However, the little devil who was responsible for leading the way sat on the edge in front of the flying carpet, not even daring to sit down with his whole buttocks, only slightly touching the edge.

But it had already begun to act like a tiger, looking arrogantly at the demons watching the action in the distance, looking at them fiercely, its arrow-like tail still raised high.

"The great Supreme Mage, ahead is the territory of the 'Prince of Black Death'. Passing there, you can reach the Lightless Prison." After passing through the border of the territory of the Demon King Satanish, the dog-legged The little devil nodded and bowed to report the situation to Su Ming, his yellow eyes full of flattery.

The devil is so realistic, as long as you are stronger than it, there is no need to say anything, it knows its position very well.

"The Dead Black Prince, if I remember correctly, this title belongs to Kx'ulthuum. He should be dead long ago, right?" Deathstroke sat cross-legged and smoked, and he calmly waited for the arrival of the battle: " What? No one has taken over the territory he left behind?"

"Ah, the great Supreme Mage, how wise and knowledgeable you are. You know everything about hell. Compared with you, the wisdom of mortals is like the reflection in a fly's eye trying to compete with the sun hanging in the sky. ah!"

Putting aside everything else, the little devil first offered a bunch of flattery, and then started talking about the real thing:

"You are right. It was three thousand blood moons ago when Prince Black Death lost his power, but his hell is still filled with xenophobic souls of the dead. The environment is more like the underworld. No demon would want to live there. Even Lord Hela, Queen of the Underworld, doesn’t like that kind of place.”

Of course Hela didn't like it there. The abandoned Hell of Hell was even more barren than Satana's territory. There was nothing but hauntings, just hauntings. Hela's own Hell of Hell was boring enough. Even if she occupied the Black Death Hell, the result would be nothing more than mathematical zero plus zero.

Not only could she not get anything out of it, but she also had to deal with countless resentful spirits that were not under her control. That was a total loss.

"Losing power? Blood moon?" Wanda held the big book given to her by Deathstroke, feeling its pulse and heartbeat, and asked the question: "The teacher never told me this, Deathstroke, what does this mean?"

"Your teacher Agatha doesn't do much hell magic. She's good at weather magic and dark alchemy. Naturally, she won't teach you about hell."

Su Ming, who was smoking, explained simply, took out some drinks for the two women, and also rewarded the little devil with a bottle of monster blood collected earlier:

"Losing power is a taboo term, and low EQ is 'died'. As for the three thousand blood moons, it is a way of counting years. If converted to earth time, it should be eight million years ago? Probably, All you need to know is that it was a long time ago.”

"Dead? Isn't it said that hell lords are generally difficult to kill? What's more, in its own hell dimension." Wanda was still curious, her big eyes opened like a cat, eagerly pursuing knowledge.

The Supreme Mage patted the back of her hand, smiled and replied:

"That's common sense, but the person who killed it was very unusual. His name was Conan the Barbarian. He was a macho man who single-handedly chopped down dozens of incarnations of the ancient ones."