A middle-aged man in a crisp white suit, his face twisted into a neurotic grin, and an elderly gentleman in an impeccably tailored black suit, leaning on a walking stick, stood before the sea of fire. The golden Divine Fire surged forward, yet the distance between them seemed to stretch infinitely. Despite their stillness, the flames could not reach their feet.
Gazing at the roaring Divine Fire, the man in the white suit grinned, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Wow, wow, my old neighbor. It seems you've provoked someone truly formidable. This fire... it feels far more terrifying than my brothers."
"What are you doing here?" The elderly gentleman, dressed with impeccable sophistication, seemed more wary of his neighbor than the ever-advancing Divine Fire. "This is my Hell, not yours. Showing up so abruptly—should I assume you're declaring war on me?"
"No, no, no, don't think that way, my old neighbor!" The man in the white suit waved his hands frantically, his mouth stretched into a wide, utterly innocent smile. "I just heard some commotion and came to take a look. You know, if a neighbor's house catches fire, it's only natural for a neighbor to lend a hand."
"Lend a hand with the fire? I'd say you're looking to loot the burning house!" The old gentleman's face darkened with fury. He slammed his walking stick down heavily. Instantly, the vast expanse of land before him, engulfed in Divine Fire, completely overturned.
The ground sank, and mountains crumbled. Massive fissures, like writhing dragons, tore apart all the land ignited by the Divine Fire. Then came a deafening roar as the entire landmass, like a drifting tectonic plate, completely collapsed and flipped over.
An endless Void appeared beneath the earth. Like a colossal beast devouring heaven and earth, it slowly swallowed the burning land piece by piece. Faced with this infinite Void, the expressions on the two men's faces were starkly different.
The old gentleman's face seemed as calm as still water, but a closer look revealed his brow and facial muscles twitching. Clearly, after causing such a massive disturbance, he was already feeling the sting of the loss.
In contrast, the man in the white suit was all smiles, his face beaming with an indescribable glee.
"Wow, wow. As expected, only a veteran like you would have such a deep reserve and the guts to pull this off. To think you'd just carve out such a huge chunk of your domain for the Void! I thought you'd try to find a way to put out the fire or something!"
Hearing these blatantly mocking words, the old gentleman's expression darkened further.
"Satan, you are not welcome here. If you don't leave this instant, don't blame me for being impolite."
As the threat hung in the air, billowing black smoke erupted from the old gentleman's body. Countless undead spirits and vengeful ghosts writhed within the smoke, letting out terrifying wails. Against this backdrop, the old gentleman's face instantly transformed into something truly monstrous. His dead, stiffened muscles and torn-looking mouth, paired with those vicious, yellow vertical pupils, made him look exactly like a demon. Or more accurately, he *was* a demon.
Mephisto. He was the oldest of the true demons born into this world, and he possessed a Hell Domain—a dimensional space independent of the world itself. He was its sole ruler.
"If I'm not welcome, then I'll just leave. We're neighbors, after all, so let's not get physical."
The man in the white suit kept a cheerful smile on his face, his joy radiating from his very bones. As he spoke, he wiggled his toes. A viscous liquid, thick like asphalt petroleum, flowed from beneath his feet, turning the ground he stood on into a black swamp.
This man, called Satan, was no ordinary figure. He had once been the Vice-Lord of Heaven, but now he ruled over another Hell Domain. He commanded countless Fallen Angels and powerful demons. In terms of sheer strength, this former Archangel turned King of Demons was hardly inferior to Mephisto, the oldest of demons. This was evident from the wariness Mephisto displayed.
Thus, it was clear just how little credibility there was in his claim to simply "visit a neighbor."
Demons were not creatures capable of getting along harmoniously. In fact, their struggles against one another were sometimes more brutal than the war between demons and God.
However, as rulers of their respective Hells, neither Satan nor Mephisto had any intention of starting a war. Satan had only come to see if he could kick Mephisto while he was down. Even if he found no opportunity to do so, simply watching this old rival suffer a setback was a pleasure in itself.
And now, though he had gained no tangible advantage, Satan was already completely satisfied just by seeing Mephisto suffer a loss. The Hell Domain expanded at an agonizingly slow pace; a vast territory like this would normally take millennia to grow. Now, a single fire had forced Mephisto to amputate his own limb to save the rest. How could Satan not be delighted?
As Satan vanished back into his own Hell with an infuriating laugh, Mephisto's fury intensified.
He tapped his foot on the ground, causing the patch of earth soaked in Satan's black ichor to tear away from his Domain. Then, he banished it directly into the still-receding Void.
Mephisto knew his old rival all too well. The man was as cunning and treacherous as himself, if not more so. He knew the footprints left behind were no ordinary marks. Mephisto was certain they concealed some vile trick.
Without a second thought, he severed the land. He had already sacrificed so much; what was one more small piece?
Still, the thought of his losses today sent a wave of heartache through him. His power was drawn from this Hell, and severing a piece of his domain was no different from cutting off a finger. The pain was bone-deep, and he harbored a profound hatred for the one who had inflicted it.
*Divine Fire... a New God in the mortal realm?* Mephisto had identified his enemy just by the flame's power. He began to mutter darkly to himself, already plotting his revenge.
Gods were never truly supreme—at least, not to demons. No matter how great a god might be, their day of falling from the heavens would eventually come. Mephisto had witnessed countless such examples, and thus, he held absolutely no hope for his enemy's future.
Zhou Yi remained unaware of the trouble his small spark of fire had attracted. He was still inside Victor Manor, waiting for word from the Dark Council.
The manor, once a desolate and ghostly place, had been completely transformed. Under the skilled hands of Emilia, the master vampire, the estate had been utterly revitalized.
A colossal crystal chandelier hung in the main hall, radiating blinding light. Every window was now flanked by multiple light sources, their brilliant glow illuminating nearly every corner of the mansion. It was a blatant proclamation to the Dark Council: they had returned.
Such an overt display was an undeniable provocation to the Council. Yet, even fully aware of this, Antonidas dared not make any rash moves.
The moment he received the report from his subordinates monitoring Victor Manor, he rushed over. Yet, faced with the brazen remnants of House Victor, he dared not act. The reason was none other than the man seated in the master's chair.
Thoughts of the renowned yet now silent Vampire Elder, coupled with the bizarre orders just delivered from the Council, forced him to cast aside all pride. He bowed in the deepest respect to the man who once held their lives in his hands and to the very vampires of House Victor whose fates they had once controlled.
Not only did he release the captured members of House Victor—whom his men were forbidden to touch or detain—but he also delivered a formal missive on behalf of the Dark Council. In a sense, this was a sign of surrender from the Council, an unprecedented event in its nearly thousand-year history.
As a member of the Council, Antonidas felt a profound sense of humiliation. But even the deepest shame must be swallowed whole in the face of absolute power.
Facing a powerhouse like Zhou Yi, Antonidas knew he stood no chance of avenging his humiliation. Rather than throwing his life away for a moment's satisfaction, it was better to swallow his pride and survive. Surely, a man of his stature wasn't even worth such a person's notice.
In fact, just as Antonidas had hoped, Zhou Yi didn't spare him a glance.
He took the so-called formal letter from the beautiful vampire of House Victor, flipped through it, and then smiled at the insignificant figure.
"So, the Council wishes to apologize for their previous actions? And the one in charge will even come to visit me personally. Is that correct?"
"Yes, esteemed lord. Everything is as you see. I merely represent the Council in offering our deepest apologies. We will also return all of House Victor's properties to them. Furthermore, we will transfer several clans within the United Kingdom and the properties under the Council's name to House Victor as a token of our humble sincerity. Additionally, the Grand Speaker has already departed and will arrive in London shortly to personally offer her apologies to you."
Antonidas bowed deeply, his voice dripping with sincerity. He wasn't just offering a verbal apology; he had prepared a generous gift to prove his contrition.
Zhou Yi didn't know the exact value of the gift, but Emilia's heavy, ragged breathing told him all he needed to know. For House Victor, this was an unprecedentedly lavish offering—something she had never even dreamed of.
Indeed, Emilia was reeling. The Council's gift far exceeded her wildest expectations, making her feel as if she were in a dream. But she knew this was reality, and it was all because of the powerful man standing beside her. The thought only hardened the resolve in her eyes. She had already made her choice: she was willing to sacrifice everything she owned.
House Victor no longer mattered to her. She had seen a far vaster, deeper world.
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