My Lust System: I Inherited The Sin Of Lust And His Three Wives-Chapter 126: What It Means To Be A Duke Of Hell
"Do you truly believe," his three voices overlapped, deep and mocking, "that an archangel can compare to a demon noble?"
As if the world itself responded to his words, the green torch hovering behind him began to spin. Slowly at first, then faster, until it became a vortex.
"Then watch closely."
BOOOOOOM!!!
An eruption of hellfire burst forth.
A terrifying quantity of emerald flames exploded outward from the spinning torch, flooding the sky in an instant. Unlike ordinary fire, these flames carried a suffocating weight, thick and violent, writhing like living beasts as they surged upward to meet the descending sea of divine light.
The two forces collided.
BOOOOOOM!!!
The impact was catastrophic.
Golden flames crashed against emerald hellfire in a violent explosion that tore through the sky. Shockwaves rippled outward in every direction, distorting space as the clash of opposing forces sent waves of destruction cascading across the battlefield.
For a brief moment, they held. Divinity against damnation, Light against abyss. But the balance did not last!
The emerald flames surged.
Like a tide breaking through a fragile shore, Duke Haborym’s hellfire began to push forward, devouring the golden flames inch by inch. The divine sea trembled, its radiance flickering as the oppressive force of the hellfire overwhelmed it.
Then it collapsed.
The golden flames were driven back violently, shattered apart as the emerald inferno surged through, unstoppable.
"GH—!"
Gilbert was struck head-on.
The force of the backlash slammed into his massive frame, launching him backward through the air with incredible speed. His wings flared instinctively, golden feathers scattering light as he tried to stabilize himself, but the impact had already taken hold.
He was driven back several meters before his feet finally touched the ground.
BOOM!
The earth cracked beneath him as he landed, but even then, his body continued to slide, staggering backward under the sheer force of the collision. Each step crushed the ground beneath his feet, leaving deep impressions in the shattered street as he struggled to halt his momentum.
One step.
Two.
Three.
Finally, he stopped.
His wings twitched slightly before settling, his grip tightening around the flaming sword as the last traces of golden light flickered around him.
Gilbert stood firm once more.
But for the first time since the battle began, his stance was no longer effortless.
Gilbert’s head snapped toward Damian, his expression sharpening as the pressure from Duke Haborym continued to rise.
"Move!" he roared, his voice no longer calm but cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Do not stand there, help me!"
Before the words had fully settled, his massive frame shot forward.
Boom!
The ground beneath him cracked as he launched into the air, his wings tearing through the atmosphere as he raced straight toward Duke Haborym once more, golden light trailing behind him like a blazing comet.
Damian did not hesitate.
Bam!
He sprang forward at the same instant, his body cutting through the air with explosive force as white flames coiled around him, his eyes locked onto the towering Asura ahead.
They came from two sides, a perfect pincer.
Duke Haborym saw it. All three heads turned slightly, his six eyes tracking their movements with chilling clarity. There was no panic in his gaze. No urgency.
Only cold calculation.
Then he moved.
One of his massive hands reached back and seized the floating torch behind him. The moment his fingers wrapped around it, the flames surged violently, reacting as though they had been awakened.
Then something unnatural happened.
His central head tilted back as his jaw began to stretch until it extended far beyond what should have been possible, the bones cracking and reshaping as his mouth split open to an inhuman length.
And then he swallowed the torch whole.
Gulp!
The flames vanished into his body.
For a split second, everything went still.
Then his eyes ignited.
A violent emerald glow burst from all six of them, burning with terrifying intensity as his entire body reacted. Thick green veins bulged across his skin, spreading like roots as his flesh darkened under the surge of power.
At the center of his chest, a heart appeared, visible from the outside. It was a glowing, pulsating core of green light, beating violently against his ribs.
Boom!
With each beat, waves of hellfire surged outward from his body, leaking through his pores, pouring into the air like an endless furnace unleashed.
Boom!
Boom!
Each pulse grew louder.
Stronger.
The heat spiked to an unbearable degree as the flames intensified, the air itself beginning to warp under the sheer density of power.
By the time Damian and Gilbert closed the gap, they were already stepping into a storm.
They were seconds away from striking.
"GRAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"
Duke Haborym unleashed a monstrous, inhuman scream. The sound tore through the battlefield. And with it the flames exploded.
BOOOOOOM!!!
Tidal waves of emerald hellfire erupted outward in every direction, surging like a raging ocean as they expanded rapidly, swallowing everything in their path.
"Divine flame!"
Golden fire burst from Gilbert’s blade and wings at once, erupting outward in a radiant surge as he pushed against the incoming inferno, his light clashing violently against the emerald tide.
Damian followed.
"YOU!!!!"
White flames roared to life around him, surging forward in a violent wave as the Ninefold Samsara Firefox erupted with full force, crashing head-on into the advancing hellfire.
The collision was immediate.
Golden, white, and emerald flames devoured each other in a chaotic storm, the battlefield dissolving into a sea of fire as shockwaves tore through the surroundings.
Yet despite their combined efforts they were losing ground.
Slowly.
But undeniably.
Damian’s jaw clenched as his white flames struggled against the overwhelming tide. He could see it clearly. His Ninefold Samsara Firefox was working, consuming the hellfire inch by inch, breaking it down, turning it into part of itself.
But it was too slow.
The sheer volume of Duke Haborym’s flames was monstrous, an endless supply that kept pouring forward without pause. For every inch Damian consumed, ten more surged forward to replace it.
If it were any other flame, he would have already been swallowed whole. Even now, the pressure was suffocating.
Beside him, Gilbert fared no better.
His divine flames held firm, their purity allowing them to resist the hellfire without being immediately overrun. Golden light clashed against emerald destruction in a steady, unyielding struggle.
But even that resistance had limits.
The quantity of Duke Haborym’s hellfire was the problem.
The Duke’s power was not just overwhelming in quality, but in sheer, crushing volume. It was endless, flooding the battlefield like an unstoppable tide that refused to recede.
Gilbert’s wings trembled slightly under the pressure as he held his ground.
Behind him, Corbin had been forced back, retreating into the shelter of Gilbert’s divine flames, his figure barely visible through the storm as he shielded himself from the encroaching inferno.
The entire street had become a burning hellscape and at its center Duke Haborym stood unmoved.
His green heart pulsed violently, each beat unleashing another wave of destruction as his six arms spread wide, commanding the inferno like a god of ruin.
The Duke alone possessed the destructive power of an army.
