"Archduke Bel?" Anbaixiu asked, puzzled. "What does that lord want with me?"
The relationship between Bel and Zariel was far too complicated. Anbaixiu was currently collaborating with Zariel; the last thing he wanted was to get mixed up with Archduke Bel.
If Zariel grew displeased, there was no telling what madness the fallen angel might resort to.
In business, challenges were not frightening; what was truly terrifying was a partner losing their mind. A godlike enemy could always be dealt with, but an inept teammate was beyond saving.
Bel was a traitor who had once stabbed Zariel in the back, and Anbaixiu had no desire to associate with him.
Yet the amnizu's next sentence changed Anbaixiu's mind.
"General Bel would like to request a meeting with you. He said he wishes to introduce you to a few old friends."
"Old friends... introduced to me? Why does that sound so strange?"
The amnizu's tone shifted, tinged with melancholy. "Because our appearances have changed so much. We were afraid you wouldn't recognize us anymore."
Amid Anbaixiu's confusion, the amnizu removed his helmet, revealing a vaguely familiar face.
"You are..." Anbaixiu racked his memory with a furrowed brow. He was certain he had seen this face before, yet no matter how hard he tried to recall, the name eluded him.
The devil sighed. "As expected, you have forgotten me."
Anbaixiu could only offer an explanation: "My apologies. My soul suffered damage, leaving quite a few of my memories fragmented. I remember your face, but I cannot recall your name."
This was not a lie. The curse of the Demonic Dragon had not been easy to resolve; even though Anbaixiu had prepared contingencies, his soul had remained shattered for so long that gaps in his memory were inevitable. Most of those lost fragments were unimportant anyway, so Anbaixiu had never paid them much mind.
In any case, over several centuries of life, he had forgotten far too many people—one more made little difference.
Still, the devil before him must have been someone of considerable note, for Anbaixiu at least recognized his visage.
Aged, sorrowful, looking thoroughly weathered by worldly hardship—even after turning into a devil, he still looked remarkably human.
Uncertain whether Anbaixiu was telling the truth, the amnizu could only introduce himself: "I am Lorencos, formerly a paladin of Ryan. It has been a long time, Master Ultraman."
Anbaixiu's memory instantly sparked, and he exclaimed in surprise, "Lorencos... Ah, I remember now! You're that bald general's friend! You had a son too, didn't you? Did he go to Hell with you?"
Lorencos: "..."
Perhaps it would have been better if he had forgotten entirely.
After an awkward silence, Lorencos could only explain, "Frodo is following Alan and has met with no misfortune. Still, I fear he may fall to Hell just as I did. Under my flawed guidance, he committed far too many errors, and he has yet to earn the forgiveness of the Lord of the Dawn."
Anbaixiu had forgotten the names, but he still held a faint recollection of the father and son's story.
Back then, in order to deal with Ryan's Iron-Blood General, Alan had persuaded Lorencos and his son Frodo to switch sides. Lorencos occupied a special position, being the Iron-Blood General's dearest friend.
In the end, Lorencos died at the hands of the Iron-Blood General, but the general himself walked into Anbaixiu's ambush and was ultimately eliminated by him.
"I never expected to meet you here," Lorencos said.
Anbaixiu was also taken aback. Who could have imagined that a paladin would end up falling to Hell and turning into a devil?
"I committed too many sins; falling to Hell was my inevitable destiny. I just never expected to survive to this day." Lorencos continued, "The general knows I have some history with you, which is why he sent me to invite you. Master Ultraman, what do you say?"
Anbaixiu asked suspiciously, "What does Archduke Bel want with me?"
Lorencos shook his head. "I wouldn't know. In Hell, I am merely an ordinary soldier."
He had long ceased caring about schemes and intrigue; his only desire was to die on the battlefield. Had Bel not commanded it, he wouldn't even have withdrawn from the front line.
Stroking his chin, Anbaixiu began to ponder. Archduke Bel held a status far higher than his own, standing among the ranks of deities. Under such circumstances, playing the sentimental card meant Bel was most likely seeking cooperation.
Yet what Anbaixiu wanted least was to partner with a backstabber. He understood that mindset all too well; such figures made terrible collaborators.
After weighing the matter back and forth, Anbaixiu finally said to Lorencos, "Very well. Lead the way." Dodging the summons today wouldn't be an issue, but the Blood River Fortress was a place of supreme importance, and Bel was the chief commander of the Blood River. Anbaixiu would have to deal with Him sooner or later. Rather than snub Bel now and be forced to meet Him later under duress, it was better to extend him some courtesy and go along with the flow to see what He had to say.
At the very least, things had not yet reached a point of open hostility.
Relieved, Lorencos fastened his helmet back on and turned to guide Anbaixiu.
Anbaixiu remained hidden within the magic mirror, hovering beside Lorencos, and probed him for information along the way.
"You're doing pretty well for yourself in Hell, aren't you? As expected, paladins can shine and thrive anywhere."
"I wouldn't call it 'well.' It's just far easier to kill people here. No matter how much I slaughter, I don't have to worry about committing another mistake. Whether devil or demon, all of them deserve to die—myself included."
Lorencos's story was actually quite mundane by infernal standards. Upon descending to Hell, he had been shoved into a maggot pit. Aside from sinners who had sold their souls long beforehand, most souls cast into Hell were subjected to this punishment.
Swallowed and chewed up by infernal maggots, enduring boundless agony, then excreted as a blob of slimy sludge, left to dry out, and finally transformed into a lemure or some other lowly devil.
Such had been Lorencos's fate. After being digested for who knew how long, he had finally regained his freedom, but his luck was abysmal, placing him right on the banks of the River of Blood.
At first, he barely scraped by as a scavenger. But Lorencos was a battle-hardened paladin after all; though he had lost the power of the Holy Light, his combat experience remained intact. Among the scavenger hordes, he proved to be one of the stronger ones.
He soon went from half-starved to enjoying a modest surplus, his body growing steadily stronger as he continually devoured soul fragments.
In the end, he chose to step onto the Blood River battlefield.
Unlike other sinners, who only wanted to cling to life, Lorencos genuinely sought atonement. Once he learned the significance of the Blood River battlefield, he threw himself into it without hesitation.
Yet whether by some cruel twist of fate or not, the more he wished to die, the harder it was to perish.
Through one perilous battle after another, Lorencos instead accumulated enough merits to evolve from a lemure into an amnizu—a formidable race—and proceeded to rack up even more military exploits.
Eventually, he caught the eye of Archduke Bel, who bestowed upon him the highest grade of infernal engine modification and inducted him into his personal guard.
Presently, Lorencos was far more powerful than he had been as a human, yet he yearned desperately to die once and for all in a glorious battle.
He no longer harbored any illusions of washing away his sins; he merely wanted to make his death worthwhile.
Lorencos had heard the Deceiver's renown countless times. Who could have imagined that the lich from back then would go on to achieve such earth-shattering feats? Even more unexpected was that he would meet him again in Hell.
Anbaixiu offered comforting words: "Don't be so hard on yourself. Who doesn't make mistakes? The gaze of the Lord of the Dawn can pierce countless planes; perhaps He is still watching over you."
Lorencos's voice trembled with excitement. "Is that true?"
"It's possible. I'm just guessing. But Hell is a place for sinners to atone. Once all the sins are repaid, what then? Sinners must have a final resting place, right?"
Lorencos looked up at the blood-red sky, murmuring with deep emotion, "If that is so, then perhaps Rachel and I might one day return to the embrace of the Holy Light. That would be wonderful indeed."
"Rachel? That name... sounds so familiar."
Lorencos gave a bitter smile. "He is the bald general you mentioned just now."
The Iron-Blood General, Rachel Angelo—the very paladin Anbaixiu had schemed into his grave. Given the atrocities he had committed, ending up in Hell was his natural fate.
Realization dawned on Anbaixiu, and he remarked awkwardly, "He's in the First Layer of Hell too? What a coincidence."
"Er, yes, quite a coincidence. And just like me, he serves as General Bel's personal guard. You'll be meeting him shortly."
An ominous premonition suddenly washed over Anbaixiu. He wasn't afraid of any Iron-Blood General; once turned into a devil, the man was nothing to fear.
However, those two were far from the only enemies Anbaixiu had made. Over the past several centuries, most of the people he had schemed to death hadn't been good folk either. Could it be that all of them were waiting for him in the First Layer of Hell?
The sheer thought of how many enemies he had sent to the grave made Anbaixiu's scalp tingle with dread.
Chapter 552