The Daily Life of the Demon King

After the crushing blow with the shield, Titus slammed Beelzebub into the arena floor. The impact was so powerful that a cloud of dust rose, obscuring the arena from the spectators. When the dust settled, everyone saw the defeated demon lying on the shattered stone floor. However, a closer look revealed that Beelzebub hadn't been harmed at all. It seemed the demon was simply waiting for the right moment. Nevertheless, this was enough to cause a storm of cheers from the human spectators.

Titus stood over the lying Beelzebub, gripping his shield tightly, ready to fight again. His tense figure, like a monolith, instilled confidence in humanity. Alex, watching from the balcony, noticed that the demon was merely pretending, trying to lull the enemy's vigilance.

He barely sighed, thinking, «A classic demon, a deceiver to the core.»

But Alex's thoughts were interrupted by a loud and unexpected cry:

«FOR THE EMPEROR!»

It came from the loudspeaker of the robo-dog G.I.R., who, standing on the balcony, waved a flag with the Imperium's emblem. The dog was clad in Ultramarines armor, which only added to the effect. The entire coliseum froze, and hundreds of eyes turned to the source of the sound.

Alex slowly turned to G.I.R., trying to maintain the most serious expression possible, though inside, he felt a sharp sense of embarrassment. Both Valkyries beside him looked like they wanted to sink into the ground. But G.I.R., oblivious to the reactions around him, continued to shout louder:

«FOR THE EMPEROR!»

In his heart, Alex whispered a short prayer, hoping no one among the spectators would share the dog's enthusiasm. However, his hopes were in vain.

«FOR THE EMPEROR!» — a shout came from the crowd.

Others quickly joined in. The human side began chanting the slogan, which soon turned into a powerful, unified roar that echoed throughout the coliseum. The sound was so loud and synchronized that it even worried the gods. They had never seen such unity among humans, one that seemed to challenge divine authority.

In response to the crowd's support, Titus raised his shield above his head and clenched his fist. Alex sighed restrainedly, realizing that the situation was slipping out of control.

«Perhaps I should've chosen a different fighter,» he thought, watching the unfolding scene with an empty gaze.

Meanwhile, in the break room, chaos reigned. Rebecca and the Valkyries were trying to calm three troublemakers. After all, Alex had taken G.I.R., so why were there three of them? It turned out that Mimi and Stich had managed to 'convince' the young god of fortune, Zerofuku, who now enthusiastically joined the believers of the Emperor of Mankind.

Ignoring the deafening shouts of the crowd, Alex kept a close watch on Beelzebub, waiting for the moment when the demon's dark side would take control of his body. Suddenly, Beelzebub's eyes, black as bottomless pits, snapped open.

Titus, noticing that his opponent wasn't about to give up, raised his shield again to deliver a crushing blow. With incredible force, the edge of the shield crashed directly into the demon's chest, causing another explosion of stone dust and further destruction of the arena.

A deathly silence fell: the spectators froze in anticipation, not taking their eyes off the epicenter of the battle. When the cloud of dust cleared, it became apparent that the staff with a skull, which had previously been in Beelzebub's right hand, had now moved to his left. Moreover, an energy barrier appeared before the demon, preventing Titus' blow from reaching its target.

Titus, realizing that his first attack had been ineffective, decided to try again, believing that sooner or later the demon's shield would break. With even greater force, he brought the edge of his shield down on the barrier once more. The deafening blows, resembling the tolling of a massive bell, echoed throughout the arena. Alex, intently observing the events, pondered Beelzebub's abilities.

«What kind of staff is that, capable of blocking such powerful strikes?» Göll asked in confusion, not taking her eyes off the battle.

Brünnhilde, hugging Alex to hide her embarrassment from G.I.R.'s recent outbursts, thoughtfully replied:

«This is no ordinary staff; it's a great treasure that enhances his powers. It's called the Staff of Apomyos.»

The word «treasure» immediately sparked a greedy interest in Alex's eyes. He stared intently at the staff, mentally evaluating ways to acquire it. Brünnhilde noticed the gleam in his eyes and sighed heavily, realizing just how captivated he was by the weapon. Even Titus had been fully equipped for all eventualities thanks to Alex's efforts.

«This staff can become an impenetrable shield capable of withstanding even Thor's hammer if held in the left hand,» Brünnhilde continued explaining. «In the right hand, it transforms into a weapon capable of destroying even the armor of gods.»

Alex, listening to her words, absentmindedly rubbed his hands together, his thoughts already circling the idea of adding the staff to his collection. He even began to quietly chuckle, resembling a villain plotting a clever heist.

Meanwhile, Titus, seemingly undeterred by his failures, continued bombarding Beelzebub's barrier with powerful shield strikes. Each blow intensified the pressure on the demon, and his figure sank deeper into the stone floor of the arena. Gradually, a deep crater formed beneath them.

Beelzebub, realizing that this couldn't go on forever, gripped his staff tighter. In that instant, the barrier surrounding him flared with blinding light, as if preparing for a counterattack.

As Titus raised his shield once again to strike, Beelzebub's barrier flared brightly. This time, the collision of the shield and barrier caused a powerful explosion, throwing Titus backward. His feet left deep grooves in the stone floor of the arena as he skidded, finally stopping only at his halberd, which was stuck in the ground.

Beelzebub slowly climbed out of the crater. His black clothes were covered in dust, but he had barely been harmed. Only a small wound on his ear served as a reminder of the recent strike.

«Looks like that's all you're capable of. You're just a relic of the past,» Beelzebub said scornfully, pointing his staff at Titus.

Seeing that the demon was unharmed, Titus reached for his Psychosoul halberd and yanked it from the stone floor. The halberd crackled with electric discharges, which ran like lightning along its blade, leaving charred marks on the ground. When the discharges subsided, Titus confidently aimed the weapon at Beelzebub.

«We're just getting started, demon. Do you think hiding behind your staff makes you the victor? Many before you relied on relics, but all of them were crushed beneath the feet of our order,» Titus declared in a rough voice.

Without a word, Titus gripped his halberd tighter and strode quickly toward his opponent. Beelzebub, noticing Titus's approach, gripped his staff tighter, preparing to use it again. When the distance closed to the minimum, Titus struck with a powerful thrust, aiming directly at the demon.

Beelzebub instinctively activated his shield, hoping it would stop the attack. However, the Psychosoul Halberd had been specifically crafted to pierce through any defense. Slowly, but relentlessly, its blade began to penetrate the barrier. The shock on Beelzebub's face became evident to all observers. Alex, sitting on the railing, simply smiled, watching the demon's reaction.

«Sister, you said Beelzebub's shield could withstand even Thor's hammer, but now it's pierced by a halberd,» Göll remarked in surprise, pointing to the unfolding scene.

Brünnhilde remained silent, stunned. Just recently, she had claimed that Beelzebub possessed an absolute shield and spear, but now her words seemed doubtful. Alex, noticing her embarrassment, laughed loudly.

«Don't worry about it, Brünnhilde. Everything I create is meant to kill. I'd be more surprised if my halberd didn't pierce that weak barrier,» he said with a smile.

The Valkyrie glanced at Alex, who was happily swinging his legs, clearly enjoying the spectacle. She became curious about what other weapons were hidden in his arsenal, especially since even the halberd he made could pierce such powerful defenses. She also recalled Chastifol—the spear that changed shape—that Alex had used as a means of transportation. This meant his collection likely contained even more deadly weapons.

«How much more weaponry do you hide in your inventory?» Brünnhilde asked with interest, giving Alex a gentle shake to get his attention.

Upon hearing the Valkyrie's question, Alex thoughtfully stroked his chin, pondering his answer. But, of course, he didn't have an exact reply. His inventory was literally packed with various weapons, created from bursts of creativity and the desire to unleash his masterpieces onto enemies, much like that golden king.

No matter how much Alex tried to recall, he couldn't pinpoint the exact number of weapons in his arsenal. Brünnhilde, noticing his prolonged silence, realized that he truly had more weapons than one could count. However, another thought began to worry her: why did Alex even need so many weapons? And, most importantly, what was the purpose of such a collection?

Göll, watching Alex's contemplations, involuntarily broke into a sweat, realizing that his collection was so vast that he couldn't even name its count.

«Honestly, I'm not exactly sure how many weapons I have,» Alex admitted. «But to simplify, imagine my inventory is like a machine gun. I can fire weapons continuously, like a burst from a barrel, for several minutes.»

Brünnhilde froze, trying to make sense of his words. «Firing weapons»—what did that even mean? In her mind, an image immediately appeared: portals, from which dozens of swords, spears, and blades protruded, bombarding enemies in an unceasing stream, accompanied by Alex's satisfied laughter in the background.

She was slightly shuddered by the image that formed in her mind and quickly pushed those thoughts away, pretending she hadn't asked anything. Göll, on the other hand, was further intrigued by her imagination—it made her want to see it with her own eyes.

Noticing that there were no more questions, Alex returned his focus to the battle. On the arena, Titus was increasing the pressure on Beelzebub's barrier with his psychosoul halberd. The pressure on the shield grew with every passing moment, and even the demon began to realize that his defense was about to collapse.

Realizing this, Beelzebub decided not to wait for the barrier to be broken. Gripping his staff with both hands, he attempted to attack and defend at the same time. But before he could strike, the halberd pierced the shield and cut through his shoulder.

The demon staggered, feeling the pain of the wound, and instinctively took a step back. Blood flowed from his black attire, staining the fabric a crimson red.

«So this is what your 'absolute shield' is capable of, demon,» Titus said coldly, pointing the halberd at his opponent. «This is what happens when you blindly rely on relics.»

On the balcony, Alex almost fell off at his clone's words. He couldn't understand how his clone came up with that phrase, especially since he himself relied on weapons that Alex had personally created. The feeling of embarrassment turned into shame when Göndul let out a light, melodic laugh, like the ringing of a bell. She was clearly enjoying the situation and couldn't resist making a comment.

«But you yourself rely on your weapons,» she remarked sarcastically.

Alex sighed, mentally convincing himself that his technology wasn't magical relics, but a product of skill and craftsmanship. That helped him soothe his ego a little.

On the arena, Beelzebub, irritated, pointed his staff at Titus's halberd.

«You speak of relics, but you depend on that weapon in your hands,» he retorted.

«The difference is, my halberd is a product of technology, made by human hands, not an artifact created from the remnants of someone else's power,» Titus answered firmly, countering the demon.

Alex nodded, recalling how he had made this halberd in Night City. At that time, he had used advanced technology and the help of his loyal robo-dog, who advised him on how the weapon should work. Upon hearing Titus's words, Beelzebub reluctantly acknowledged their truth. However, between them, a tense silence fell, giving Titus time to reload his bolter.

Noticing the hesitation, Beelzebub decided to take advantage of the moment. Quickly shifting his staff to his right hand, he concentrated energy and released a powerful shockwave aimed directly at Titus. Titus, seeing the approaching threat, finished reloading and immediately raised his shield. However, the force of the wave was so great that it began pushing him toward the very edge of the arena.

Feeling the ground beneath his feet becoming increasingly unstable, Titus planted his halberd into the stone floor to slow his movement and stay on the edge. But Beelzebub wasn't about to miss such a convenient opportunity. Lunging forward, the demon prepared to deliver the finishing blow, sending a powerful shockwave from his staff straight toward Titus.

But at the last moment, Titus deflected the staff to the side, and the wave, missing, hit a massive stone column. It collapsed with a deafening crash, scattering into countless pieces. Seizing the opportunity, Titus took the initiative. Gripping his halberd tightly, he delivered a horizontal strike, accompanied by bright electric discharges that left burns on the floor.

Beelzebub attempted to raise a barrier to block the attack, but to his horror, he found that the halberd easily sliced through his defense. Barely dodging in time, the demon avoided a blow that could have sliced him in half.

«My barrier couldn't stop your halberd... why?» he asked, looking at Titus with a cloudy, anxious gaze.

«Because I no longer see the point in holding back for another demon,» Titus replied calmly, stepping closer to his enemy with every move.

Meanwhile, Beelzebub began to change. His once cloudy gaze grew even more strange, as though he was about to lose control. Alex, observing the situation, decided to check the demon's essence. What he saw made him sigh heavily: the corrupted side of Beelzebub's soul was overtaking his mind, gradually consuming his original essence.

Alex wondered which force of the Outer God was hidden inside Beelzebub. Meanwhile, Titus had discreetly attached a chain to his halberd. Taking a few more steps forward, he abruptly threw the halberd at the demon.

Beelzebub, seeing the approaching projectile, raised his staff and poured all his strength into the barrier to block the attack. However, the halberd passed close by, embedding itself into the stone floor behind him. For a moment, a tense silence filled the air: it seemed Titus had missed.

But suddenly, the sound of the chain ringing echoed. Before Beelzebub could comprehend what had happened, the chain had wrapped around his neck. Titus yanked it sharply, mercilessly tightening it, intending to decapitate the demon in the most brutal manner.

Beelzebub's eyes gradually grew clouded as each tightening of the chain squeezed his neck more and more. With each passing moment, his vision dimmed further, and soon, it felt as if he was falling into a cold, bottomless darkness. In that darkness, something enormous and terrifying waited for him.

This feeling was familiar—he had experienced something similar when the mad ecstasy that overtook him was followed by frenzy. In those moments, when he lost control, he had killed those he cared about—his friends and his beloved.

Beelzebub didn't want to sink into this emptiness again, but he could feel something ancient and sinister whispering to him in an unknown language. He tried to resist, but the force of the voice was unbearable, and the darkness seemed to consume his consciousness.

Alex, watching what was happening, saw Beelzebub's soul fading away. He realized the situation was spiraling out of control: less than 20% of the demon's soul remained. The spectators held their breath, watching as the chain tightened further around Beelzebub's neck, and it seemed his head would soon be ripped from his body.

The tension was so great that any other creature would have already been dead. When Beelzebub's hands, which had been struggling to free themselves from the chain, finally went limp, and he hung like a puppet with no strings, it became clear that his soul was nearly consumed.

Alex kept his gaze fixed on the process, watching as the last flickers of Beelzebub's soul faded away like stars dimming in the sky. Realizing there was no time to waste, he vanished from his spot, teleporting to the arena's fence.

His sudden appearance caught everyone's attention. People started whispering, trying to figure out what he was planning. He remained in his child-like form, standing on the fence and not taking his eyes off the nearly extinguished soul of Beelzebub. Where it had once been, there was now only an impenetrable darkness, from which a strange, ancient whisper emanated.

Brunhild felt that something terrible had happened to Beelzebub. She remembered Alex's words about how the Outer Gods could bring destruction just by their presence—whether it was a fragment or the God itself. This realization made her uneasy: something extremely dangerous might happen now.

Rebecca, who was in the rest room, also sensed that something important was happening. She noticed Alex standing on the fence and immediately understood that he felt the situation was slipping out of control. The Valkyries near her stopped watching the series, their faces darkened, and they focused intently on the arena.

Buddha, watching the broadcast, noticed the tension on the faces of the women and understood that something significant was happening.

«What's happening?» he asked, turning to Rebecca and the Valkyries.

«This abomination we spoke about is about to appear. I hope Alex can stop it in time, or it'll get ugly. The last time something like this happened, we had to fight an entire army,» Rebecca replied, not taking her eyes off the broadcast.

Alex watched Beelzebub, whose soul had been completely consumed by the darkness. All that remained were faint memories, and the demon's essence had vanished into the impenetrable blackness. The darkness now inside him carried foreign evil, but Alex still couldn't determine which Outer God it belonged to. No matter how hard he tried to recall, his thoughts gave him no answers.

The spectators froze in silence, waiting tensely for what would happen next. The people, full of hope, thought victory was near, while the gods hoped Beelzebub could break free from the situation, even though his consciousness had already faded. None of them realized that Beelzebub no longer existed. In his place had come something born of Chaos. The only comfort for Alex was that it was only a small part of the Outer God, not the God itself. But even this fragment posed a deadly threat to everyone in the arena.

The oppressive silence was suddenly shattered when Beelzebub's lifeless hands, dangling like those of a puppet, twitched. The spectators came alive: they thought Beelzebub hadn't given up yet. His hands, without opening his eyes, slowly reached for the chains that bound his neck. Alex instantly understood what was happening, and with a stomp of his foot, he activated an invisible barrier to block the Outer God's influence on those around him.

Beelzebub easily broke free from the chain wrapped around his neck, but his head remained tilted back, as if he still hadn't regained consciousness. His movements appeared chaotic and instinctive.

The gods watching this assumed that perhaps Satan, the entity inside Beelzebub, had taken control. However, the truth was far more terrifying. It was not Satan, but something much older and more alien. Having freed himself from the chains, Beelzebub's body swayed from side to side, as if changes were taking place within him, invisible to the naked eye.

Titus, being a clone of Alex, immediately understood what was happening. He pulled the chain to bring the glaive back into his hands. Meanwhile, Beelzebub's body began twitching, as though an internal struggle was occurring. Then, the demon leaned forward, as if trying to comprehend how to control his body. After a moment, he straightened up and opened his eyes.

The eyes of the new Beelzebub were like two black holes, absorbing light. If before, his gaze had resembled that of a dead fish, now they had become the embodiment of hopeless darkness. These changes caused terror even among the gods, who were now certain that something ancient and nightmarish had taken control of the demon's body.

«Hmm... the air of this world. Just as disgusting as always. This life, everything around, is nothing more than proof that it all must be destroyed,» the new Beelzebub spoke in a cold, indifferent voice.

His gaze instilled fear in all who dared to look at him. Alex quickly scanned the spectators in the stands, checking for signs of contamination. Fortunately, the barrier he had set up beforehand prevented the influence of the Outer God from spreading. Still, no one could withstand the gaze of the new Beelzebub. Everyone tried to look away, as if fearing that meeting his eyes would bring only death.

The new Beelzebub shifted his gaze to Titus, who held a shield in front of him and pointed the glaive at the demon. There was a flicker of surprise in his dark eyes.

«I did not expect to see the loyal dog of that corpse sitting on the golden throne here,» Beelzebub said, indifferently pushing his hair back.

Alex tensed. These words confirmed his worst fears: this Outer God was connected to the Warhammer 40,000 universe. Perhaps this reality had existed since the great war with Chaos. Even the avatars of Nyan-Nyan knew about the Emperor's Throne.

«Identify yourself, disgusting creature of chaos!» Titus shouted, directing the glaive straight at the new Beelzebub.

Titus's words only made the new Beelzebub laugh hysterically. This sinister, piercing laugh, penetrating the very consciousness, paralyzed the spectators with terror. Humanity and the gods were in agreement for the first time: this Beelzebub should not exist.

Even Zeus, sitting on the balcony of Olympus, understood with a grim expression that the time to act had come. He felt that this creature had become too dangerous, and if allowed to leave the arena, the consequences would be catastrophic.

The laughter suddenly stopped, replaced by the cold, penetrating voice of the new Beelzebub, which seemed to come from all directions:

«I was called Tsishakon, and I was an object of worship. But what will my name give you, mortal? You will die, just like all who are present here.»

Alex frowned, trying to recall anything about the Outer God with that name. However, his search through his memory proved fruitless. The name meant nothing. Alex suspected that Tsishakon was a bastard creation of two unknown Outer Gods, the lesser of them, but still dangerous.

While Alex analyzed the situation, Tsishakon took notice of a cane lying nearby. A skull was visible at its base. A tendril of thick darkness shot out from the creature's body and drew the cane into its hands.

«Unexpected that this vessel even had a relic blessed by me,» Tsishakon said mockingly, tearing the skull from its base with a single motion.

Without wasting time, he gripped the skull in his hands, and darkness surged toward him like a black river. The skull began to darken, its shape distorting as if nature itself refused to accept this object. Alex noticed how the concentration of energy inside the skull grew at a terrifying speed.

«The explosion is inevitable,» he thought, stamping his foot and reinforcing the barrier protecting the arena.

When the transformation of the skull was complete, the accumulated dark energy exploded out of it in an instant, causing a powerful detonation. A black dome engulfed the arena, as though devouring it. However, the barrier Alex had erected held the darkness in place, preventing it from spreading beyond the arena.

The spectators watched in horror as the dome began to shrink, like a retreating wave. They involuntarily turned their gazes to Alex, standing at the edge of the barrier with a calm expression, fully focused on what was happening. Zeus, approaching the railing of his balcony, muttered thoughtfully:

«So that's why he was walking along the arena's fence. Could he have known this might happen?»

The dome continued to shrink, and soon the spectators saw the aftermath of the explosion. The arena was mangled, and at the epicenter of the destruction, like an impenetrable mountain, stood Titus. His massive shield had protected him from the darkness.

Tsishakon carefully scanned the arena before smirking at Titus.

«No one died. That means the barrier around it worked. Very interesting… There are those in this world who can challenge me, even when I'm in such a weakened state,» he said, as though curiously studying a new toy.

Tsishakon looked around and locked eyes with Alex. However, in Alex's gaze, he saw… nothing. It was empty, as if there was no living being before him. Even staring directly at Alex, Tsishakon felt no soul, no power, not even a hint of life. For a moment, he doubted his vision — after all, the child standing at the edge of the arena was real. However, attributing his sensations to his weakened form, Tsishakon decided that this boy was so insignificant that he was simply impossible to sense.

Turning his head, he noticed Titus, who should have perished at the center of the explosion.

«Ho… the mutt serving the corpse on the golden throne survived. Surprising,» Tsishakon said, not hiding his astonishment.

Titus remained silent, his gaze fixed on Tsishakon. As a clone of Alex, Titus understood what needed to be done. Thoughts of not allowing this creature to regain its strength completely overtook his mind. Realizing this, Titus launched himself into the attack.

At first, his steps were fast, then transitioned into a lightning-fast charge. In the blink of an eye, Titus was in front of Tsishakon, raising his glaive for a strike. Tsishakon, confident that regular weapons wouldn't harm him, raised a finger to stop the blade. But when his finger was severed and the glaive continued its course toward his neck, Tsishakon's expression twisted.

Realizing the threat, he vanished into the shadows and reappeared at the far end of the arena. Looking at his bloodied hand, now missing a finger, Tsishakon frowned. Thick, dark blood oozed from the wound.

His thoughts were interrupted as Titus charged toward him again. This time, the glaive came down vertically, as if to slice Tsishakon in half. However, it was a feint.

Tsishakon dodged, pinning the blade with his foot to prevent Titus from lifting the weapon. But beneath his helmet, Titus's expression remained unchanged. Releasing the glaive's handle, he grabbed the chain coiled around his waist and threw its end straight into Tsishakon's chest.

When the chain pierced Tsishakon's body, he attempted to hide in the shadows, but felt himself being yanked back with great force. Titus yanked him out of the portal, as if pulling a fish from the water, and without giving the enemy a chance to recover, grabbed him by the throat.

The creature desperately struggled, but Titus's grip was ironclad. Tightening his hold, Titus slammed Tsishakon into the ground with force. Each strike was accompanied by the cracking of stone until a deep crater formed in the floor.

The spectators froze in horror, watching this scene. What had once been a battle of strategy and skill had now become a manifestation of primal fury.

When Tsishakon was immobilized, Titus raised the glaive and drove it into the enemy's chest, pinning him to the ground. This weapon, imbued with sealing power, blocked Tsishakon's abilities, preventing him from escaping.

«No… this isn't Ultramarine…» Tsishakon whispered, realizing that the warrior before him was someone else, merely taking the form of the familiar fighter.

Ensuring the enemy was completely powerless, Titus raised his shield. The edge of the heavy shield slammed into Tsishakon's face with deafening impacts. Each strike, imbued with an invisible yet destructive power, damaged not only his body but the very essence of him.

Tsishakon felt his essence slowly deteriorating. When the blows ceased, his face was a mangled mess. However, the dark blood flowing from his wounds began to heal the damage.

The clone of Alex realized that physical force alone wasn't enough to completely destroy Tsishakon. Making sure the glaive had gone deeper into the enemy's chest, he pressed it down with his shield to eliminate any chance of escape. Then, reaching for his belt, Titus drew a chainsword, which immediately came to life with a menacing roar, resembling the sound of a chainsaw. The blade drove into Tsishakon's chest, tearing through flesh as it neared his heart.

Tsishakon felt his heart literally shattering, and with it, his essence began to fade. Every attempt to escape was futile: the destructive energy contained in the glaive continued to tear him apart from the inside. However, Titus didn't stop there. He reached behind his back and pulled out a flamethrower. The flames reflected in his eyes as he aimed the weapon at Tsishakon.

«You're not the first Outer God I've killed,» Titus said in a cold tone. «You should've stayed in your chaos like the others. Or did you think your nature made you omnipotent? Chaos is much more vast than you can imagine, and within it are beings far stronger than you. If you were Nyarlathotep's avatar, I might have toyed with you a little longer to amuse Nyan-Nyan. But you're just a bastard spawned by two lesser Outer Gods.»

The name Nyarlathotep froze Tsishakon in place. His eyes, filled with terror, locked onto Titus. Fear even crept into his ancient essence. But the clone of Alex had no intention of showing mercy. Before Tsishakon could say a word, Titus pulled the trigger. A stream of fire, filled with destructive energy, poured over the body of the Outer God.

A wild, bestial roar erupted from Tsishakon's mouth. The flames consumed his flesh, his essence, and his very existence. But Titus felt no pity or compassion. The fire raged on until the screams ceased. When it was over, nothing remained where Tsishakon had stood—only the glaive and the chainsaw sword, firmly embedded in the ground.

The spectators stood frozen, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Beelzebub, possessed by Satan and seeking to destroy everyone present, was erased from existence. Everything happened so quickly that neither gods nor mortals had time to understand it. As the crowd's consciousness returned, the battle was already over, and there was not even ashes left of Tsishakon.

Alex, now back in his adult form, ascended to the balcony where Brunhilde stood. He thoughtfully lit a cigarette, allowing himself a brief moment of relaxation.

However, one thought echoed in his mind: «One is ready. But this is far from over. Now, I just need to find the rest.»

Noticing the tension on his face, Brunhilde gently approached, placing her hands on his cheeks and massaging them, trying to pull him away from his heavy thoughts. Meanwhile, Heimdall declared the victory of humanity's representative, but Alex, ignoring the jubilant crowd, along with two Valkyries and the robo-dog, headed for the corridor. He sought solitude to contemplate the next steps.

To be continued…