"For Andrei!!!"

In the stands of the Black Abyss Arena, the Liches seating area fell deathly silent. They silently watched the roaring figure on the screen, like a row of lifeless corpses.

The arena was silent, the commentary had ceased, and only Lyle’s declaration reverberated throughout the space.

No laughter, no exchange.

Even those who sensed the sinister atmosphere and wished to warm up the crowd were hushed by the people around them.

The Liches exhaled a cold breath of death.

"I hear it..."

"The beating of my heart."

"My blood flows through veins, magic stirs within my flesh and blood."

Liches are cold, like a dead pool of water.

Yet someone had provided them with the warmth of flesh, the taste of food, a rising tide of desire, and the flame of glory.

Lyle was a stone thrown into the still water, causing ripples to spread outward.

The ripples would spread before eventually returning to calm.

But the Liches with beating hearts, the Liches longing for bygone emotions, would not let go of this hard-won impulse easily.

From within the dead water, countless cold hands reached out, stirring the tranquil surface into a tide.

"For Andrei!!!"

"Defeat him, Plague Doctor!"

"Kill that despicable member of the Demon Race! For Andrei!"

"Comrades! That’s one of our Literature Club’s Four Heavenly Kings! Yes! It’s one of my people from the Dark Legion! Let’s unite under the Plague Doctor’s call! Take down the Demon Race first, then crush that idiot Raymond and his Holy Light! Those who want to join the Dark Legion, come and sign up with me!!!"

Andrei stirred once more, and this time, the headmaster did not stop it.

Watching the feeble figure on the screen that seemed like it might collapse with a touch, the headmaster stroked his beard, a smile appearing on his face.

His decision was correct; the Plague Doctor was indeed quietly changing Andrei in the direction he hoped for.

The headmaster lifted his staff and struck it down hard onto that person.

"Damn you, George..."

Dong!

Mr. Raymond, about to deal with the disturbance caused by the Dark, was hit hard on the helmet by the headmaster’s Enchanted Staff.

Faced with Raymond’s confusion, the headmaster smiled like a kindly old man.

"Never mind that guy, Raymond, you have more important things to do."

"?"

"You can reach the Hell Plane, right?" The headmaster settled back leisurely in his seat. "Don’t let the light of hope for Andrei be hurt too badly, and don’t take out your frustration on the little Demon Race brat. I will tell the enforcers of the City of Wandering that you sneaked away when I wasn’t looking."

"Hmm, I’ll take good care of the Plague Doctor," Mr. Raymond settled back in his seat, "but I believe in the Plague Doctor, he will surely deliver on his word."

However, Lyle, who had spoken eloquently, actually had no confidence.

There was indeed a way to victory, but there was only one, and it wasn’t highly probable.

His physical state was poor. If not for Nia’s flesh sustaining him, he couldn’t move at all. His right arm couldn’t function normally, and Nia, to protect herself, could not provide any means of mobility. The only functioning arm, his left, could only use Vilimlo’s claw for one attack.

He had only one chance.

And Lyle had seized the opportunity to win.

The reason Gogallan was able to show an overwhelming advantage, in the end, was the enhancement by hellish power.

Accelerated Regeneration, resistance growth.

And after repeated contact, Lyle had finally discovered the flow and source of the hellish power.

It was beneath their feet, within hell itself.

Hell Plane number six was a pie.

Wrapped in a thick layer of rock strata, deep within hell, lay a potent force.

The power of hell, a black energy buried underground, a power of fear.

Black, buried underground, capable of burning energy.

In Lyle’s mind, the power of hell was now equated with natural gas.

The current situation was that the Demon Race, through their own advantages, could draw on the deep "gas" of hell to strengthen themselves. In the rock layers, there was a complex, invisible network of "gas" pipelines.

Therefore, theoretically, as long as he cut off Gogallan’s source of power and delivered a fatal blow in that instant, Lyle could achieve victory.

Originally, without understanding the true nature of hellish power, Lyle was helpless.

But he understood now. The power of hell, that is, the power of fear. A potent emotional force, and emotions originate from the soul.

Although Lyle’s knowledge of souls was poor and he had only just begun, he still remembered how to dispel fear, which was the first lesson Troy taught him, Soul Scream.

Soul Scream could dispel the power of fear, causing local blockage in the "gas" pipelines beneath hell.

Inside that bone spear stuck in the ground, Nia’s flesh was moving; she had already touched the stratum below. With just a thought from Lyle, Gogallan Black Abyss would experience "suffocation."

Theoretically, it was simple.

But Lyle’s fragile body was the biggest obstacle to realizing all these plans.

He was too tired, both physically and mentally. He felt as if his blood was about to run dry, his vision started to blacken, and his hearing gradually weakened, feeling he might lose consciousness the next second.

His body was teetering, unable to support himself upright, and he had to shift his weight onto the bone spear.

"Lyle, just hold on a little longer, Nia will definitely flatten that dumb prince!"

"Okay, Nia." After giving a simple reply to Nia, Lyle shifted his gaze back to Gogallan’s towering body.

The Prince of the Black Abyss stood like a mountain, a statue, and after Lyle made his declaration, fell silent for a moment.

"I take back my words, Plague Doctor," Gogallan opened his eyes, revealing a ferocious smile on his demonized face. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"I apologize for the derogatory remarks about Andrei Academy in my own words. You are a qualified warrior."

"As a mark of respect for the Plague Doctor, next, I will unleash all I have," Gogallan’s eyes emitted a dangerous glint, "I will meticulously, earnestly crush every bone in your body."

Lyle chuckled weakly, responding without strength.

"Come on, Prince of the Black Abyss."

Before Lyle’s words had even finished, the towering Demon Shadow had already teleported in front of him.

"Annihilation, one blow."

The gigantic fist kept enlarging in front of Lyle’s eyes.

Soul Scream! From beneath the strata, Nia let out a soul’s roar, climbing swiftly, heading towards Lyle’s true body.

The black smoke on Gogallan’s body disappeared, and his aura did indeed weaken a bit, but was still dangerous.

The power of hell, indeed, was suppressed.

"Lyle! Lyle! Grab the spear! Attack now!" Nia screamed anxiously, a second away from regaining control over Lyle’s body.

But that one second was so slow.

Lyle slowly pointed Vilimlo’s spearhead towards Gogallan’s skull.

It was just a bit more, just a single thought, a thought to drive magic, and Vilimlo would pierce through the arrogant Demon Race’s skull.

But it was just that little bit.

Lyle couldn’t even muster a thought to attack, and the strong human lost consciousness.

The hellish power, once restrained by Nia, climbed back onto Gogallan’s body and with his fierce attack, slammed into the human’s flesh and blood.

Gogallan looked at his fist in confusion; his fist was already touching the frail, thin body.

But nothing happened, no blood splattered, no bones shattered.

Only black mud.

A layer of black muck welled up on Lyle’s body.

"Giggle giggle giggle giggle giggle..." A sinister laughter echoed in front of Gogallan; he looked up and saw that face.

It was staring at him, using Lyle’s face.

The eyeballs seemed devoured by darkness, devoid of whites, and the face sported a weird smile, producing a spine-chilling laugh. Black muck flowed from "Lyle’s" eyes and nose.

The power of hell burned on Him, but it didn’t hurt Him.

"Giggle giggle giggle giggle..." The writhing flesh mixed with the black muck, pulling at the tattered body, twisting, transforming.

The laughter of a boy and girl merged, with the distorted limbs growing continuously.

In the end, what stood before Gogallan was a black giant entwined with the power of fear.

That filthy, evil voice murmured a simple word, exuding endless malice.

[Lyle]