A thousand cows—no, even if he slaughtered half this number of cows, he would still be called a master of his craft. However, the number of enemies that Grid had killed was unfathomable. His level, which had reached 900, was the result of countless deaths.
From humans to monsters, half-gods, and demons—Grid was able to draw their anatomical diagrams in his head as soon as he saw them, no matter what shape the target had. It was possible to easily cause a fatal wound and dismantle them in any environment.
Additionally, he now had the strongest sword ever in his hands. Two dragon weapons made from the by-products of an Old Dragon—the sword made by combining them into one almost unconditionally found the enemy’s weakness and was incredibly sharp. It was to the extent where Grid just felt that Baal’s self-defense and skin were ‘a bit tough.’
The king of hell, who reigned as an invincible being and determined the fate of hell and the surface, was reduced to the status of livestock to be slaughtered.
The sound of the magical self-defense and skin being pierced and slashed echoed eerily. The sound of bones being smashed and organs bursting was a bonus.
Baal had the illusion that a swarm of bees was buzzing through his mind. He kept getting goosebumps and his back was tingling.
Baal’s vision turned white as he looked down at his belly that was split apart the moment it regenerated. It hurt terribly. He had always taken his wounds lightly because he was in a position to overcome them. After witnessing his organs being pulled out and smashed several times in front of his eyes, the concept of being a brain in a vat dominated his mind.
Baal naturally resisted. He actively utilized his natural power by using the skills he had stolen from those who died and fell into hell. However, things didn’t work out as planned. It was because the metal hands held each other and pressed on him, narrowing the gap.
The God Hands—Grid’s artifacts, which had been increased to hundreds, created a circular space and it was a prison that Baal had never experienced before. It gradually narrowed and robbed Baal of his freedom.
Baal couldn’t move as much as he wanted because they didn’t break even when he hit them with all his might. At first, he thought it was okay. He was able to regenerate faster than he was cut, stabbed, and wounded by Grid. Grid had most of his sword dances sealed and wasn’t necessarily powerful. Even if Baal died, he could overcome it.
Baal was confident that he could hold out forever until this pressure was lifted. This was what he thought a while ago.
Baal let out the scream that he had barely been able to contain. It was around this time that the power contained in Grid’s sword became even stronger than before. Before he could finish regenerating, new wounds tore him apart and inflicted even greater pain.
It was only then that Baal realized his own death. Grid becoming stronger in real time meant he was dead.
“This… this jerk…” Baal cursed in a low voice. There was no time to be conscious of the epic. He felt confused. It was because emotions he didn’t understand came flooding in. Was this the feeling of the toys he had played with so far?
The emotion that rose up along with such a ridiculous idea—it was fear. For the last thousands of years, Baal had planned, witnessed, and learned about countless deaths. He had always savored with interest the despair, sadness, pain, and fear felt by the dead, and it went beyond the level of familiarity.
However, he hadn’t experienced it himself. Thus, he had been enjoying it happily without sympathizing with the feelings of the dead. Then at this moment, it became a reality.
Baal suddenly had a question—even if he could overcome death, could he really be called alive if he kept being killed by Grid? He didn’t want to feel this pain every time he died…
Baal exploded the magical self-defense armor he was wearing. The means to protect his body had no effect, so he boldly abandoned it. He had the idea that if he was going to die anyway, he would kill Grid as well. Therefore, he used all the magic power he had as a means of attacking.
Every time an explosion occurred, Grid’s absolute defense cracked and finally melted away. The red armor, which had been soaked in Baal’s blood, grew more brittle as the heat of magic surged through it. The torso inside the armor would’ve been cooked.
However, Grid’s expression was calm.
Neither heat nor cold—it was the same whether it was the fire of hell or the breath of the Frost Queen, they could neither burn nor freeze Grid’s body. His body temperature was maintained. It was because Khan’s will defended him.
“Blacksmith Khan…! I should’ve dragged him down to hell!” Baal read the will contained in Grid’s armor and shouted while trembling. How many times had he already suffered a setback from the will contained in that armor? At this point, it felt like it was Khan, not Grid, that was the cause of everything. He felt anger at the powerless heavenly gods who were robbed of Khan by Grid.
Grid’s eyes changed. His face, which had bore a dull expression as if he had been dismantling livestock, twisted.
Baal gulped without realizing it. He recalled the image of himself that was projected in the small pupils of humans. Humanity’s greatest fear—the reflection of Grid in Baal’s eyes resembled that…
Baal was briefly mesmerized, only to gasp. He was decapitated, died again, and revived.
Grid’s distorted face loomed over him.
“Baal, you don’t deserve to curse anyone now.” Grid’s eerie voice filled the narrow space. “It is because I will kill you again and again without giving you a chance to curse.”
It was a sentence that made the worst situation that Baal imagined a reality. At the pain that followed, Baal recalled a question he had in the distant past. He was a child of a God of the Beginning, but he wasn’t a god.
Why? Why did Yatan leave heaven to build a shelter for the dead and cast him into this place?
“…Why? Why should I have to deal with nothing but death…?”
Baal’s eyes, which had lost their focus due to the sword lodged in his heart and became blurred, came alive again. No, malice was the more appropriate word. Was a life where everything went his way really freedom?
Baal’s eyes, which had always been the same, expressed emotions such as anger, resentment, and killing intent without hiding them. At the same time, it became huge.
His pupils, eyes, and face—finally, his entire body grew dozens and hundreds of times larger, shaking the prison created by the God Hands. Eventually, the grip of the God Hands were released.The metal sun with blood pouring out from it finally shattered and scattered.
A giant—Baal’s figure became so huge that he could be seen anywhere in hell and he stood tall in the center of hell.
Grid thought of Marie Rose’s castle. He remembered the mythological records he had seen there, a place that was originally Beriache’s castle. They were pictorial records of the birth of hell. From the fifth painting onwards, images of the Three Evils of the Beginning were depicted.
‘Amoract was red, Beriache was green, and…’
Baal was a giant. Just like right now.
That’s right—Ball was usually reflected differently according to the viewer’s perception, and this was the first time his true appearance was fully revealed. This was probably his fourth phase after going past his normal phase, the phase he was in when he used the energy of a God Killer, and the phase when he absorbed Braham’s power. Circumstantially, this was likely to be his final form.
However, Grid didn’t think it was the coming of the end. No matter what type of raid it was, the final phase was meant to be the beginning, not the end. He shouldn’t be excited. It was real from now on.
Grid raised the stamina and concentration that had been consumed by fighting for half a day and gritted his teeth.
[Why… why is everything above my head…?]
Ironically, the large body was meaningless. From the moment Baal was born, he had to always look up at the sky. There was the surface beyond the sky. Those who died up there fell to this place. He had no choice but to look up and wait…
“With that large body, take care of the dead who will suffer from the loss of death and mourn.”
Yatan’s disgusting voice lingered in Baal’s ears.
“Asgard? It is beyond the surface. It is the furthest place from here, so you don’t have to look at it.”
The surface above the sky, and heaven above that—from the moment he was born, everything reigned over his head. This was even though he was a child of a God of the Beginning. This was despite being born with a body that was bigger than anyone else’s. He had to stare endlessly at those that were out of reach.
[It was absurd…]
Oppression—Baal considered all the circumstances he was born in as oppression. Naturally, he started to resent Yatan for giving birth to him. He came to hate the world. This was how the great evil that wanted to destroy everything and drag it all down to hell was born.
It was a type of twist. Unlike Yatan, who left Asgard because he was good, his children weren’t born good. They went against Yatan’s wishes.
[Only One God Grid.]
A storm blew. It was a storm created by Baal’s fist causing the atmosphere to stir. Then an earthquake occurred. It was an earthquake that happened when Baal took a step and the ruined great hall collapsed.
[Despair. Fear me.]
This was also a cry to the gods who, as always, would be looking down on this place. Baal only aspired for the destruction of the world. His ultimate goal was to drag the gods, who were supposed to be lower than him or at the same level as him, down to hell. He couldn’t be held back by a god of the surface.
Thousands of thunderbolts overlapped. It was due to Baal’s fist. The destruction washed over Grid and stretched beyond the crumbling walls toward the exposed horizon. The attack area was so large that it was difficult to dodge.
Grid made a judgment and used Freely Move, which he had been saving. Rather than assessing the enemy’s level while defending, he chose to immediately counterattack. He took the initiative in order to get an advantageous flow.
The six fusion sword dance was unfolded as he maintained Item Combination. Heavy red rain poured down onto Grid as he moved and hacked at Baal’s neck, which was as wide as dozens of soccer fields glued together. Blood gushed from Baal’s neck and drenched all of hell.
[The target has received 58,012,600,339 damage.]
[You have broken the record for the highest damage dealt to a single being in the world!]
[Someone imprisoned in heaven’s prison has noticed your amazing achievement and mumbles nonchalantly.]
[”I can also do that… maybe…”]
Baal, who had revealed his original appearance—he was powerful enough to threaten Grid with a single gesture, but his defense was weak. It was natural. Right now, he was just a giant, not a concept created by building up the fear of humanity. He had lost the advantage he gained in the process of trying to become a god. He had returned to his primal form in an attempt to shake off the fear he harbored of Grid, but it became poisonous instead.
Baal’s loud scream that reached all the way to the surface was the trigger.
[Humanity’s fear has faded.]
[Humanity’s fear has faded.]
People were starting to feel it.
Baal could also feel pain. He was huge, but he was a giant that resembled a human being.
The source of all evil, whom they had feared all their lives, actually wasn’t that different from them…