Lord of Black Water

The bloody slaughter raged on continuously for three days and three nights. There was no sun in Baator; fire and darkness filled every corner. Yet as a realm embodying Lawful Evil, its blood-red sky still observed an orderly cycle of light and darkness that governed the passage of time. Under round after round of artillery bombardment, the wasteland before the Bronze Citadel had been sheared down by several feet. Blasted, scorched earth stretched everywhere, and foul-smelling smoke churned from the deaths of countless demons, saturating the air. While the demonic tide surged against them wave after wave, the Legion of Hell remained stationed before the sturdy fortress walls, maintaining the rigid discipline and organization they had upheld since ancient times. The players, meanwhile, roamed all across the battlefield. Whenever they spotted enemies, they swarmed forward recklessly. They were madder than the demons and far more fearless in the face of death. After all, though low-tier demons returned to the Abyss upon death, they were demoted to the lowest form of abyssal larva, reduced to feed for other abyssal creatures. The players, by contrast, only had to sacrifice a bit of experience. Meanwhile, elite legions from the Cinder Empire, such as the Dragon Oath Paladins and Dragon-Pact Sorcerers, clashed with high-ranking demons. Searing gales contended against the freezing winds of the Abyss; blazing pillars of incandescent white fire pierced through walls of ice, blasting frost shamans mounted on Abyssal dragons to smithereens. Misha cried out in devout fervor, "Our Lord watches over us! His golden slitted pupils see all things under heaven—these demons are the trial He has bestowed upon us!" "For the Dragon Lord!" The golden eyes of the Dragon-Pact Sorcerers shone brilliantly as majestic torrents of energy poured from their staves. Dragonflame swept across the earth, reducing innumerable demons to ash. Clad in heavy armor and bearing massive shields, Dragon Oath Paladins stood firm before balors. "The Dragon Lord above all!" "Long live the Dragon Lord!" Their faith coalesced into an enormous draconic soul. Spouting flame and flapping its wings, the phantasmal red dragon bared its claws and fangs, wrestling violently with the balor in midair. Across the vast wasteland of Avernus, nearly ten million beings engaged in mutual slaughter. The earth shook and trembled unceasingly; war cries, wails of agony, the thunder of artillery, and the howl of freezing winds inundated this ravaged land. Amid the deafening din, even devils—whose physical forms were vastly superior to mortals—felt their ears ringing and their hearing muffled. Ten million. What did such a number signify? It surpassed the population of every nation on the Feanso Continent except for the Cinder Empire, the Kingdom of Cassander, and the Kingdom of Seleucia. It was equivalent to an entire major nation mobilizing every last soul—men and women, young and old—and marching out en masse. Almost every minute, hundreds upon thousands of soldiers lost their lives. Even the Machine Cult's several-hundred-meter-long aerial battleships appeared remarkably tiny across this sprawling battleground. The elongated front line stretched for dozens of kilometers, enclosing the entire Bronze Citadel along with the vast wilderness surrounding it. Looked down upon from high above, the millions of demons resembled a boundless, pitch-black ocean. Their assaults crashed like ceaseless giant waves, and the boundary where both sides collided formed the shoreline. Now, however, it was glaringly evident that the Avernus coalition's defense line stood remarkably firm, while the Abyssal host was falling into decline. Amidst that pitch-black ocean, countless motley specks had appeared—the players. On this battlefield, millions of demons had already perished, and the players' total death count had reached several hundred thousand. Yet there was not the slightest sign of the players thinning out. Thanks to the Cinder Empire's aid, the Legion of Hell had also solidified its lines, repelling the demon tide's unrelenting onslaught. At last, faced with a battle that was steadily tilting against them, "someone" could bear watching no longer. *Roar—* A low, rumbling bellow resonated across the firmament, layered with countless chaotic noises—plaintive shrieks, shrieks of anguish, stifled groans... These sounds overlapped again and again, as though voiced together by countless mortals trapped in utter darkness, encompassing every negative emotion in existence. Everyone looked toward the origin of the sound, only to see a pitch-black mountain slowly rising up within the demonic tide. "Is... is that a mountain?" "No, it's a demon! That mountain *is* the demon's body!" "By the Lord of the Nine Hells, this must be that damned Demon Lord! How could a demon be this massive?!" "Holy crap, this boss is ridiculously huge!" "Ew... that looks repulsive." In that moment, devil soldiers and players alike felt immense shock, letting out heartfelt exclamations. To think it was actually a demon! And for good reason—it was simply too colossal, an existence impossible to overlook even on so vast a battlefield. The monster stood nearly two hundred meters tall, resembling a massive, bulky hill. Its entire body was coated in thick, viscous black fluid, giving off a rancid stench that permeated the entire battlefield. Only as it drew closer could onlookers discern that this peerlessly gigantic body was actually composed of tentacles, studded all over with pustules. Embedded in its hide were over a thousand blood-red eyeballs that opened and closed continuously, radiating a dim crimson glow like bizarre, ominous stars in a pitch-black night. Countless whip-like tentacles writhed around it, each enveloped in slime from which black water dripped constantly, producing a nauseating, squelching sound like squeezing entrails. —This was the "Lord of Black Water," Ixinix, a demon hailing from the Abyss, one among the countless indescribable, twisted monstrosities born of that realm. Perhaps it was a product formed from the corrupted corpse of some deity, perhaps a life born of coalesced chaotic energies, or perhaps an experimental creation left behind by ancient spellcasters... In any case, across the vast stretches of time, Ixinix's origins had long been buried by history, forever unknowable. Winged demons known as heralds of rot burst forth from the pustules on the Lord of Black Water's back. Beating wings drenched in viscous black water, they emitted a fly-like buzzing that filled the sky, staining half the firmament an unnatural black. Immediately afterward, countless sludge-like monstrosities condensed from black slime spawned from within the Lord of Black Water's body, squirming and crawling forward. Their translucent forms swallowed up the filth along their path, swelling ever larger. Accompanying piercing roars, the rumbling of the earth, and the wet squelch of flowing slime, that "black mountain" advanced slowly toward the Avernus coalition's defense line, unstoppable in its momentum. An overwhelming aura of chaos blanketed the entire battlefield, and pressed down even more heavily upon the heart of every soldier, instilling in millions of beings a soul-deep dread and tremor. Such was the power of a Demon Lord; such was the terror spawned in the deepest recesses of the Abyss! It was an instinct shared by all living beings—an inescapable dread of the most terrifying unknown horrors. Even the "soulless" players suffered multiple negative status effects, including Fear, Stun, and Stupor. Afar atop the Bronze Citadel, Cassius narrowed his eyes at the distant black hill, sensing the chaotic power harbored within that immense pressure. He murmured in a low voice, "A troublesome enemy. And... that guy is disgustingly ugly." Bel's expression was grave as well, his hand instinctively gripping the infernal broadsword at his waist. "This is the Lord of Black Water, a monstrosity from an uncharted layer of the Abyss. Regrettably, aside from this name, I know next to nothing about it. "The Abyss has spawned countless twisted entities that even the Lord of the Nine Hells knows nothing of—this creature is clearly one of them." "Maybe it's the large intestine of some deity, tossed into the Abyss who knows how many tens of thousands of years ago," Cassius quipped offhandedly. After all, even Gruumsh's blood and eyeballs could spawn aberrations. This lump of demon that looked like an intestine and oozed foul-smelling liquid might very well match his guess. *Boom!* Even as they spoke, the Lord of Black Water had already slithered into the battlefield. Its dark, hill-like bulk imposed an overwhelming sense of oppression. "Damn it, as expected of an aberration spawned from the Abyss—absolutely disgusting! Hold it back!" A devil officer brandished his saber, roaring orders. Hellfire orbs, flaming arrows, blood-red lightning... a chaotic barrage of attacks was hurled all at once toward the titanic demonic form. Yet that pitch-black slime seemed capable of devouring and dissolving all things. Every arrow, bullet, and artillery shell vanished into the black water like clay oxen sinking into the sea, leaving not a trace behind. As for spells of all kinds, they dispersed and unraveled within a hundred meters of the Lord of Black Water, deconstructed by the power of chaos into countless disordered elemental particles. *Hiss, hiss—* Black slime rained down like raindrops, sizzling through the earth to corrode pit after pit. Several devil soldiers even had more than half their bodies melted away; the armor forged from infernal iron offered not the slightest bit of protection. The monster lashed its slime-coated tentacles, instantly sweeping thousands of players and devil soldiers into its enormous body. "No!" "Save me!" "Damn it, block that tentacle! Don't let it get any closer!" "Aaaargh! It's so gross—" The instant they touched the black water, a hissing sound arose, and their skin began to melt. Flesh and internal organs followed, until finally even their bones dissolved into the black water, turning into sustenance for the demon. Those fly-like heralds of rot also buzzed forward into the crowd, spewing putrid slime. The skin of numerous soldiers was eaten away, exposing large patches of raw flesh and even white bone, a truly ghastly sight. "Fuck, this boss is disgusting! We can't deal any damage at all, and it has a whole swarm of repulsive minions." "Are we going to fail this war quest?" "A total piece of shit monster. What were the devs even thinking when they designed this thing? It literally looks like a steaming pile of crap." "What did you guys set your sensory perception to? Why does it smell so bad to me? I'm gonna puke!" With the Lord of Black Water joining the fray, the tide of battle shifted drastically in an instant. Within just a few minutes, both players and devils suffered heavy casualties, the death toll reaching over a hundred thousand, and their defense line wobbled precariously, on the brink of shattering. "Quick! Hold it back!" "Th-this thing can't be stopped at all!" By now, the Lord of Black Water had already crossed the moat. Within the Legion of Hell's defense lines, devils shrieked and wailed across the field, and routs even began to break out. After all, this demon—or rather, this aberration—was simply too powerful, driving them to utter despair. Devils never cared for duty, sacrifice, or courage; calculating profit and loss was their sole guiding principle. They quickly arrived at a conclusion: turning and fleeing offered a sliver of hope for survival, whereas continuing to hold the line left only one outcome—being consumed by the Lord of Black Water. Even the high-ranking devil officer flapped his wings and fled toward the Bronze Citadel. He even cut down an imp in front of him with a slash of his sword, bellowing, "Who ordered a retreat?! Hold it back!" Yet a slime-slick tentacle lashed across the air, whipping toward the devil officer. Panic and dread instantly flooded the devil officer's face. He flapped his wings madly, even exerting every shred of strength to activate his teleportation spell-like ability. Regrettably, under the oppressive Abyssal aura, all magic lost its effect, rendering his struggles pitifully futile. "No! You cannot kill me!" With a wretched scream, this high-ranking devil was swept up by the tentacle as easily as a fly snapped up by a frog. Swallowed whole by the black water, he fell utterly silent. After the Lord of Black Water appeared, Hell's defensive lines breached one after another, riddled with holes like a dam washed away by a flood. Watching the battle deteriorate, Cassius turned to the gloomy archdevil beside him and raised an eyebrow. "These Abyssal aberrations are truly something. Bel, can you beat it? "If you need help, I can step in right now. However... that'll cost extra." Bel frowned and asked, "If I have you deal with that aberration, what would I have to pay?" Cassius smiled and said, "I'll give you a friendly discount: all I want is five percent of your Hellish authority, plus a colony the size of a kingdom." "Are you dreaming?" Bel sneered mockingly. "Tch, as expected of Tiamat's brood. Greedy as ever." Cassius replied in an even tone, "When given a chance to jack up the price, who would pass it up? If you went to seek aid from my revered Mother Goddess, She would probably demand you surrender your position as Lord of Hell. "At a critical life-or-death juncture like this, the fact that I didn't demand to become the supreme overlord of Avernus is already giving you plenty of face, Lord Bel." Cassius deliberately stressed those last few words. Bel answered coldly, "Your Majesty Cassius, you are far too greedy. I will never accept such an unreasonable demand." Cassius asked with mild curiosity, "So—you intend to handle it yourself?" "Naturally." Before his words even finished echoing, the Lord of Hell flapped his powerful bat-like wings, lifted the infernal broadsword that symbolized authority and power, and soared into the air. Watching the pit fiend take flight, Cassius shook his head with slight regret at missing another prime opportunity to "semi-colonize" Avernus. Still, he was in no hurry. As more and more players flooded into Avernus, as their cooperation deepened, and as Cassius's own strength grew, Bel would eventually become a puppet lord controlled by the Cinder Empire. Besides... taking this opportunity to observe how the Lord of Avernus fought wouldn't be bad at all.