Fein's mind buzzed with the revelation that Imeng, his mentor, was none other than the Demon God's younger brother. The pieces of the puzzle clicked into place, and he finally understood the immense power that flowed through Imeng's veins. Yet, in the midst of the fierce battle unfolding before him, Fein knew he couldn't afford to be distracted by such thoughts. He shoved the revelation to the back of his mind, focusing on the immediate task at hand.
Raising his hand, Fein summoned a swirling wisp of dark flames. The flames danced and flickered, casting an eerie glow in the room. With a swift motion, he hurled the flames towards three of the Satans who dared to challenge him.
Reacting swiftly, two of the demons erected a thick barrier, hoping to shield themselves from the impending onslaught. Meanwhile, the third demon conjured a magnificent flame dragon, its fiery presence snarling and writhing with power. They were prepared to put up a fight, to resist the dark flames that threatened to consume them.
But their efforts proved futile.
As the wisp of dark flames reached its targets, it swelled and intensified, growing in size and ferocity. The flames hungrily devoured everything in their path, swallowing the protective barriers and the majestic flame dragon with ease. The once-imposing defenses were reduced to mere ashes, floating in the air like fragments of a defeated dream.
Fein's gaze shifted from the decimated remnants of the Satans to Lucifer and the remaining 32 demons. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he spoke, his voice laced with a chilling confidence.
"Four Satans down," he taunted, his words dripping with mockery. The atmosphere crackled with tension as he clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. His intense focus caused ripples in the space around his hand, compressing it with an otherworldly force.
Lucifer's expression contorted with a mix of fear and realization. He sensed the imminent danger emanating from Fein, and his instincts screamed at him to get the hell out of there. Without wasting a second, he unleashed a space-type spell, teleporting himself to a safe distance away from Fein's reach.
Meanwhile, Beelzebub, thinking he could trap Fein within his spell, quickly cast a magical barrier to isolate him in a confined space. But little did he know, he had just walked right into Fein's trap. As Fein reared back and unleashed his mighty punch, something extraordinary happened—the space around his fist expanded infinitely, shattering Beelzebub's spell like fragile glass.
Beelzebub's eyes widened in shock and horror as the realization of his grave mistake hit him like a ton of bricks. He had overestimated himself, and now he was about to pay the price. Fein's fist, growing larger with each passing moment, came crashing down with unstoppable force, reducing Beelzebub's feeble attempt to hold him back to nothingness.
The remaining Satans, witnessing the utter devastation and the sheer might of Fein's overwhelming power, were consumed by panic. Their thoughts turned to escape, to fleeing from this unstoppable force that had decimated their comrades. But their hope for survival was short-lived.
Fein's colossal fist continued to grow exponentially, dwarfing everything in its path. It descended upon the terrified demons, smashing into their bodies with bone-crushing impact. The sickening sound of flesh being obliterated filled the air as at least four Satans were reduced to nothing more than a grotesque mixture of blood and pulp.
Their faces contorted in agony and despair, the Satans realized the futility of their resistance. Fein stood amidst the carnage, an embodiment of unstoppable destruction, his eyes ablaze with an unholy determination. The room, once filled with the prideful arrogance of the Satans, now reeked of death and defeat.
Lucifer's trembling gaze shifted from the gruesome scene of mangled flesh and bone. His heart pounded within his chest, a wild mixture of relief and terror coursing through his veins. He couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude that he had managed to evade Fein's devastating fist. The mere thought of being caught in its path sent shivers down his spine.
His eyes fell upon Beelzebub's lifeless and decimated body, and a gasp escaped his lips. Beelzebub, a formidable opponent whose strength was not far behind his own, had been annihilated by a single punch from Fein. It was a sight that defied all logic, a testament to the terrifying power that Fein possessed.
Fear etched itself deeply into Lucifer's features as he stared at Fein. In that moment, it felt as if he could glimpse the shadow of the demon god looming over him. The overwhelming aura of darkness and destruction radiating from Fein sent waves of dread crashing over him, threatening to consume his very soul.
'H-he's a monster! What kind of demon did that old man train!?' Unable to bear the weight of his terror any longer, Lucifer's body succumbed to the overwhelming fear. His legs gave way beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground, consciousness slipping away as darkness claimed him. The last thing he saw was Fein's menacing figure towering above him
Fein's eyes wandered from Lucifer's knocked-out form to the scattered bodies strewn across the wreckage. A look of disappointment flickered across his face as he took in the sight. Seriously, were these guys really that weak? Or had he become so ridiculously strong that taking down 36 SS-ranks didn't even get his blood pumping? It was a mind-boggling thought that left him at a loss for words.
As he stood there, the reputation of the 36 Satans and Lucifer echoed in his mind. These guys were supposed to be tough, feared and respected by all. Yet here they were, reduced to lifeless corpses in the aftermath of his rampage. It made Fein scratch his head in bewilderment, trying to make sense of the situation.
Was it possible that they were just a bunch of weaklings, unable to match up to his insane power? Or had he unknowingly become some kind of unstoppable beast? The questions swirled around in his head, leaving him feeling both amazed and maybe just a tad cocky.
His gaze shifted back to the fallen bodies, and a hint of introspection crossed his face. Were they victims of their own limitations, or was he truly a force to be reckoned with? The weight of the moment sank in, reminding him of the sheer magnitude of his strength.
A small smirk tugged at Fein's lips as he pondered the question. The room was filled with the echoes of silence, the wreckage serving as a testament to the sheer chaos of the battle. Yeah, it seemed like he had knocked them out of the park with his power.
With a final glance at the lifeless adversaries, Fein's expression hardened. Weak or not, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that he was standing at the top of the food chain, a badass demon who could make heads roll with a single punch. "From now on, I am the master of this realm."
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