Lyle exploded?

The display in the center of the Black Abyss Arena shuddered from a violent explosion. Demon Bats flying in the air were also affected by the shockwave, and when the picture returned to normal, the stirred-up dust began to settle, unveiling a new image before the spectators’ eyes.

A crater about twenty meters in diameter, its walls studded with bone spurs revealing just a segment, while flesh turned to ash with the explosion, leaving no debris at all. Not far away, the Demons’ Spinal Giant Wheel, its armor destroyed, broke into pieces like a dartboard filled with darts. The fate of the Demon inside was unknown, but its flesh oozed onto the barren black earth like soup, tremulous as tofu turned into douhua.

It appeared no one had survived. And at the epicenter of the explosion, Lyle seemed to be completely obliterated.

"Fuck!" Raymond’s roar thundered across the arena as a blinding light burst from behind the dense cloud cover, as if something was about to descend from the heavens at any moment.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" The stand for the Liches from Andrei Academy was like boiling water overflowing the pot, and several professors guarding Raymond immediately unleashed powerful forces, trying to stop the enraged leader of the Crusaders. The other Liches tumbled and crawled towards the exit, driven purely by instinct.

The headmaster’s face was filled with urgency, especially when he realized that the source of the riot was not only Raymond.

As the creator masquerading as the famished, Lyle had unknowingly accumulated a certain network of contacts at Andrei Academy. Now, a group of Spirit Summoning Studies professors, along with several Liches closely associated with Lyle, were turning their gaze coldly toward the Demons, as if viewing experimental materials.

The collectively cold stare of the Liches was like the most vicious death curse, facing such a threatening behavior. Although the Demons didn’t know the reason, they stared back as a matter of course.

In their minds, the Demons were actually quite puzzled— you Liches detonate yourselves, annihilating our people, and yet you blame us? Even for the side of chaos, this isn’t how chaos works.

As the city’s lord, Carlos watched anxiously from his stand as the tense atmosphere escalated between the two problematic groups, nearly panic-stricken.

Please, don’t start fighting in my City of Wandering, damn it. That list of attendees included quite a few members of the Salvation Association from Andrei and Demon lords. Dad, do something. Shit, why are you going berserk too!

As one of the instigators, the trio from the Literature Club and the Magic Research Society had already started to panic. As they began to beat up the trio from the Necromancer Figure Club, they also exchanged words with each other.

"Delusion, I plan to write an epitaph of eight hundred characters. How shall I use literary form to ensure it commemorates me for eternity?"

"Gentleman, from what I understand, you and your epitaph will turn into debris the moment Mr. Raymond makes his move, and nothing will remain. Mr. Raymond will surely kill us at the first opportunity."

Just as everyone was praying for their fate, on the large screen at the center of the Black Abyss Arena, a change occurred in the deathly still scene.

From the remaining few Spinal Giant Wheels of the Demons, alongside the blood, remnants of a young Demon slithered out. His body was relatively intact, with only a millstone-sized hole gouged out by a bone spur around his waist and abdomen.

It was this ragdoll-like Demon who opened his eyes and shakily rose from the ground.

The soil of the Hell Plane, black as soot, crawled upon his body, filling and mending the ghastly wound. Before long, the Demon’s form was as good as new.

That was the power of Hell. The Demon, a child of Hell, had managed to mend his injuries after surviving such an explosion.

The young Demons who rose with him were only about a dozen. They were relatively higher-level Demons with a closer connection to Hell. This enabled them to cling to a thread of life in the explosion, instead of waiting to be reborn like the others. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

The young Demons who had regained their strength swept their gaze around them, and their first footsteps became a drumbeat signaling the onset of battle; the recovered Demons began to slaughter each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The cream of the crop among our Demons has survived Mr. Plague Doctor’s explosion. Look at them, the surviving young generation—they will compete among themselves for the victory of this contest."

The rules of the Spine Wheel race had been entirely forgotten by the Demons. What? Getting to the finish line defines the winner? Well, if I take down everyone else, wouldn’t I be the only one left to reach the end?

In summary, the Demon Race was embroiled in conflict.

The strife within the Hell Plane had once again ignited, while the unrest in the City of Wandering escalated further.

What?! The Demon Race is actually doing fine? Our Plague Doctors at Andrei have already self-destructed! How can you be alright? Hurry up and join them in Hell!

Just as the collective will of the Liches was about to be put into action, a salvific melody graced everyone’s ears.

It was the announcer from the Black Abyss Arena, and after being fixed up, Mr. Bigby’s voice had a bit of a whistle to it due to his swollen cheeks.

"Look fast! Friends! What is that?"

The perspective on the screen zoomed out, focusing on the edge of the Demon Race’s scuffle, a concealed spot obscured by huge bone spurs.

The Hell Plane.

Lyle was hunched over, moving cautiously and slowly like a thief, inching towards the mountain’s summit portal. To conceal him, Nia enveloped his entire body, and the blackness melding with the color of hellish soil made up Lyle’s camouflage.

He was sneakily making his way home, advancing alone towards the mountain top.

"This is a race against time!" he muttered inwardly.

Damn the gloss, manipulation, and adaptability. As the president of the Necromancer Figure Club, Lyle of course knew how the self-destruct spell of the Spine Wheel came to be. It had been a long-debated topic between him and his sparkly peers about whether to keep the Spine Wheel’s self-destruct feature as a summoned spirit creature.

Lyle was against it—who would want their vehicle to suddenly explode? But in the end, Lyle had relented because the three had strongly opposed the non-explosive setup for summoned creatures, claiming it went against tradition.

But Lyle was still wondering who would be the unfortunate soul to first experience the wrath of the Death Revenant series of spells.

It turned out to be himself. With that thought, Lyle felt his head spin again.

Thankfully, those three had a bit of a conscience and installed a safety mechanism in the Spinal Giant Wheel to eject the driver.

That was also why Lyle had come out unscathed. In the instant the Spinal Giant Wheel self-destructed, the flesh wrapping around Lyle had already completed surface hardening and material transfer, forming an escape pod that propelled him onto a slender bone spur. According to the original design, this slender bone spur was to eject Lyle one second before the first shockwave from the explosion hit.

While enemies were being pierced by the rain of bone spurs, who would pay attention to the trajectory of a strange bone spur carrying a clump of flesh behind it?

After the explosion, Lyle was shaken and felt a bit dizzy.

He thought he had already won.

But who would have thought that the Demon Race would be so perverse, with limb remodeling and hyper-regeneration—weren’t those the exclusive privileges of the Liches’ flesh creations?

The Demon Race truly is perverse. Time to slip away.

Lyle lowered his head just a tad more, and with Nia, one human and one tentacled creature, they sneaked away quietly.