Date- 13 April 2321

Time- 9:52

Location- Southern Region, Southern Capital

“Belphagor, are you going to remain rooted there, or will you come over and give your buddy a tight hug?” Wyatt playfully taunted, observing the Belphagor’s deep contemplation.

“Hey, kiddo, your soul energy signature is muddled with curse energy. What did you risk this time to amp up your strength?” Belphagor inquired, skepticism written all over his face. He couldn’t fathom how the boy, who eight days gambled his soul to borrow power to take down a semi-demigod and save his sweetheart, could now possess abilities surpassing even regular demigods. 

Belphagor refrained from hastily ending Wyatt’s life and claiming his soul for a specific reason. After experiencing defeat in Wyatt’s hands, he developed a newfound respect for the young man. Hence, he approached the situation with caution, unwilling to be careless against an adversary he now recognized as formidable.

Belphagor wasn’t convinced that Wyatt would sacrifice himself solely because a devil offered to spare others in exchange for his life. He saw Wyatt as someone far more cunning and strategic, possessing a game plan that needed thorough comprehension. He understood that Wyatt’s intelligence surpassed the notion of making such a rash and selfless decision. 

This was why Belphagor did not immediately take action instead took his time to gather his thoughts and understand what Wyatt was up to. He refused to rush headlong into action instead he sought to discern the intricate web of intentions woven by the young enigma before him and learn where and what Wyatt’s true purpose was. 

ραndαsnοvεl.cοm “Even if you are my buddy, I’m afraid that’s classified information,” Wyatt retorted calmly, his attention momentarily diverted towards monitoring the progress of his mutated soul, which had set out on a mission to put an end to Matron once and for all.

“Your soul belongs to me. I will not allow you to willfully damage it or wager it with someone else,” The Belphagor declared his claim over Wyatt’s soul confidently implying that he had harvested Wyatt’s soul. 

“Sure buddy, then why don’t you come get it,” Wyatt retorted playfully, beckoning Belphagor with a confident gesture of his finger.

In the face of Wyatt’s taunting gesture, Belphagor’s composure wavered his initial intent to withhold vengeance temporarily giving way to an overwhelming surge of fury. Succumbing to his emotions, he abandoned caution and lunged ferociously at the boy, driven by the determination to deliver a swift and decisive blow to his head, seeking to end Wyatt’s life in an instant.

Like a blazing comet streaking through the heavens, Belphagor’s unparalleled speed was a sight to behold. In the blink of an eye, he closed the gap between him and Wyatt, summoning the primal force of his physical body into his fist. With unrestrained power, he unleashed a devastating punch aimed at Wyatt’s face, the sheer intensity of his strike would blow up his head like an exploding watermelon which would shatter into countless fragments. 

As the tempestuous fist hurtled towards him, Wyatt’s demeanor remained unwavering, his steady gaze fixated on the oncoming threat. Yet, instead of flinching or evading, a mesmerizing spectacle unfolded before their eyes. A human hand materialized in front of Wyatt, seemingly borne of perfect muscles, intercepting Belphagor’s mighty punch with astonishing ease. The humanoid arm’s appearance was similar to Wyatt’s arm filled with incredible strength, halting Belphagor’s advance in its tracks and rendering him momentarily motionless. A profound sense of wonder and uncertainty filled the air, as the clash of two forces painted an otherworldly illusion between the boy and the devil.

Wyatt’s remarkable feat of catching Belphagor’s punch effortlessly left the devil utterly astonished. With a newfound sense of vigilance, Belphagor hastily withdrew his hand and quickly retreated with his eyes fixed on Wyatt with a complex fusion of fear and bewilderment written across his face.

Belphagor felt as such because Wyatt’s floating humanoid arm stopped his punch with more than just strength. To be accurate there was no force behind Wyatt’s floating when it caught his punch puzzled Belphegaor deeply. His fist felt a suction force, previously unknown to him, lay within the floating arm. Like a voracious vortex, it had absorbed the entire kinetic energy behind his punch, halting his attack without a struggle.

In the wake of this revelation, a newfound caution for Wyatt’s unyielding prowess swept over Belphagor, prompting him to proceed more carefully, as Wyatt appeared to have gotten his hands on quite a troublesome ability that was too strong to overcome with mere physical strength. 

“Is that the best you can muster? You colossal swine!” Wyatt’s triumphant shout pierced the air as yet another of his floating fists materialized alongside Belphagor. Swift as lightning, it delivered a resounding blow to the devil’s face before he could react. The force of the punch sent Belphagor hurtling through the air, propelled an astonishing distance of 200 to 250 meters before he finally came to a jarring halt.

The impact of the punch was nothing short of cataclysmic. The devil’s once fearsome visage was distorted, his two formidable tusks broken and rendered in a state of disarray. The sight of his shattered facade stood as a testament to the overwhelming power concealed within the floating arms that Wyatt conjured, leaving the mighty Belphagor both humbled and astounded before his formidable adversary.

“…” Belphagor gasped, gazing upon his shattered tusks with wide-eyed astonishment. His eyes then shifted towards Wyatt, who stood motionless as if rooted to the ground since the onset of the tumultuous battle, utterly bewildered. The unfathomable question lingered in his mind: How could Wyatt’s mere conjured fist hold such unimaginable physical might?

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Wyatt playfully goaded Belphegor, “Hey buddy, let’s remove the safety gloves and get serious, shall we? Don’t say I didn’t warn you when I claim your life before you unleash your full might!”

His voice brimmed with confidence, a daring challenge flung into the air like a gauntlet. Wyatt had paid a lot to gain the power that lay within him waiting to be unleashed. The time had come for him to display the depths of what he was capable of to the world.

As the words hung in the air, the battlefield seemed to hold its breath, anticipating the impending clash of wills. Belphegor’s demeanor shifted, recognizing the subtle transformation in Wyatt’s aura. It was no longer that of a mere demigod but something else more profound.

Fueled by Wyatt’s provocative remarks, Belphagor refused to indulge in verbal jousting. With a flourish, he unleashed his twin chain whips, their metallic serpents dancing in the air. But that wasn’t all he had in store. Channeling his mastery of time rule, he concocted a mesmerizing spectacle, creating a tertiary time flow overlapping the existing secondary and original time flows. 

This newly crafted time flow was longer than the other two time flows, exclusively for the deadly dance of his whips to traverse, seeking out Wyatt as their prime target. It was a breathtaking display of skill and rule power, showcasing the awe of Belphagor’s unparalleled prowess.

Wyatt’s soul pupil beheld the twin chain whips hurtling towards him, guided by the enigmatic tertiary time flow. As the whips drew nearer, his vision split, revealing a breathtaking spectacle of two overlapping realities. One reality showcased the paused secondary time flow, while the other unveiled the moving tertiary time flow.

Such an otherworldly display failed to perplex Wyatt, for he was no stranger to this wondrous phenomenon. Many a time, he had witnessed the intertwining time flows whenever the malevolent Belphagor unleashed his chain whips upon the demigods. 

After much contemplation and profound introspection, Wyatt had grasped a crucial realization: his body and soul possessed the remarkable ability to acclimate to different time flows, but this adaptability was contingent on the time flow directly influencing him. The devil’s cunningly crafted tertiary time flow, a product of its time rule mastery, currently exerted its influence solely over his vision, allowing only his soul pupils to embrace its essence and perceive its manifestations. However, the rest of his physical form remained firmly entrenched in the familiar grip of the secondary time flow.

As a result of this dichotomy, he found himself in a perplexing state—a keen observer of the impending chain assault, yet incapacitated to evade it due to the temporal incongruity between his perception and his body’s response. Within Wyatt, a potent struggle unfolded—an inner conflict between his perception of time rule and the constraints of his physical body.

Having discerned the flaw in his enigmatic immunity to the time rule, Wyatt had devised a method to surmount it. This involved him using the physical one with the world state to form a harmonious connection with the world around him. In this state, he aimed to assimilate as much of his surroundings as possible, making them a part of his physical body. When the devil’s chain whip entered this vicinity, it would influence the interconnected surroundings that had become a part of him, triggering his mysterious immunity to time. This, in turn, would enable him to access the tertiary time flow brought about by the devil. Once Wyatt’s body could harness this tertiary time flow, he would adeptly evade its effects.

Wyatt’s keen deduction proved accurate, for the moment the infamous Belphagor’s chain whips slithered into his surrounding, he felt the tertiary time flow the chain whips had used to travel faster than the secondary time flow. Embracing the mystical tertiary time flow, he deftly sidestepped the vicious whips, mere hairs’ breadth away, much to Belphagor’s astonishment and bewilderment. This sudden twist had left even the devil himself shell-shocked.

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