Chapter 3237: Belphegor’s Demands

Date: Unspecified

Time: Unspecified

Location: Myriad Realms, Dark Realm, Seven Prince of Hell Territory, Pandemonium City

Bloodawn rolled her eyes, listening to Belphegor’s first demand, wondering if he really believed that he could get away after toying with the Bloodrool race. There were hundreds of thousands of devil merchants born every day, most of whom believed they were the chosen ones, the smartest, the best. Among them, some even believed they could cheat the Bloodrools and play them for fools, but where were they now, while the Bloodrools continued to prosper and thrive? There weren’t even any rumors about them left. Because the Bloodrools were just that thorough.

Despite knowing this, there were always fools who believed they were different, just like Belphegor was doing right now. He thought that just because he had something they wanted, they would bend over backwards to accommodate him. Maybe, but once his leverage was gone, nothing could save him from the wrath of the Bloodrools.

“… Second off, I want the Bloodrools to help me achieve the peak of the ruler-class realm—”

Belphegor paused mid-sentence, his expression contorting in pain as his body below the neck exploded before he even realized it.

He wasn’t fortunate enough to have his unholy core in his head, but Bloodawn had purposefully avoided it, as she was just taking out her anger and not trying to sabotage her mission herself.

Seeing that Bloodawn didn’t actually object to his second demand, Belphegor didn’t bother reconstructing his body, knowing she would either be beaten or tortured, and he had sadistic tendencies, not masochistic ones. He continued, “Thirdly, I want a hefty allowance every month, which would increase with my realm—”

Before Belphegor could finish, Bloodawn kicked his floating head like a football, aiming for the Pandemonium city barrier, only for his head to bounce back to her at the same insane speed upon impacting the city barrier, as if she were doing wall volleys for her rebound training. With each kick, she precisely calculated the force behind it to ensure Belphegor would die. But she had gotten a bit aggressive with her kicks, seeing that Belphegor’s life was more tenacious than that of an Undying Roachrex.

The Bloodrool hybrid assassins looked at their princess and shook their heads in dismay. Each time she kicked Belphegor’s head, they saw the end of their bloodline flash before their eyes. They had no idea why the higher-ups attached that level of importance to the matter of the rights to the Card World. If they failed because of the Princess’s temper, the Princess would only lose her life and her descendants’ lives, but for them, it was different. Their entire bloodline would be rooted out of the Sunless Realm and killed in the most horrific way they could think of, making an example out of them.

Therefore, they were already discussing whether they should contact their handlers and report the princess, potentially saving their own lives and those of their entire bloodlines, for disrespecting the royalty. Out of the four of them, two had already agreed. Only one more vote was needed, but the other two hesitated, understanding the weight of the vote on the lives of all four of them.

The 780th Princess, Bloodawn, was extremely strong and smart. She had never failed a single mission she had taken on after her coming-of-age ceremony. The assassins were beginning to doubt her record, seeing how she was struggling with such a simple mission.

“Lowly trash, what do you take me for?”

Done venting her rage, Bloodawn shouted at Belphegor’s head, which she had just caught in a mitten made out of blood. Belphegor’s goat eyes were still rolling as his humanoid head with goat horns slowly turned into the head of a big mule with jet-black fur and horizontal rectangular pupils. His brain was scrambled, and he could no longer maintain the morph spell he was using to hide his true form: a four-armed, half-mule, half-man Muletaur.

Muletaurs were one of the bottom-tier races in the Dark Realms. Throughout most of their history, they had mostly been slaves used for hard labor by other dark races. Therefore, even if one were to rise above them all and make it on their own, society would not accept them. Still, he had been able to find friends who didn’t look down on him because of his race and had founded a faction with him. Granted, they were all outcasts in the eyes of society. Yet, he hadn’t thought twice before betraying them.

Neither Bloodawn nor the hybrid assassins were surprised by this. They were all aware of his true race, having read the dossier that the representative who was in contact with the Seven Princes of Hell to purchase the rights to the Card World had provided them. They didn’t care that Belphegor was a lowly Muletaur because, to them, all the dark races were lowly compared to their Bloodrool bloodline.

Coming to his senses, Belphegor didn’t care that his morph spell was broken and his mule head had been exposed. Because, as a Calamity Daughter Gem, he no longer carried his former complexes. To him, everyone but his master, his master’s loved ones, the bloodkins, and Daughter Gems were lowly and ignorant beings.

“Princess, please let me finish my demands first, then we can negotiate,” Belphegor asked with the same creepy smile that had looked gentle the first time but appeared downright creepy on subsequent occasions.

“There are more demands? We are already taking care of you until you reach the peak of the ruler-class realm and giving you a monthly allowance. What else could you possibly want?” Bloodawn said in sheer disbelief at the audacity of the Muletaur before her.

“Fourth, I want your help in developing the Seven Princes of Hell faction into an absolute ruler-class force—”

“Your Highness, please forgive this lowly one for interrupting, but let us just turn him into a blood slave and have him offer the rights to the Card World to the Bloodrool Hegemony.”

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