Game of the World Tree-Chapter 417

Throughout the long ages of him being an ancient demon lord whose activity even dates back to the Titan Era, Azazel has been sealed countless of times.

By now, he already experienced being imprisoned in all kinds of seals…

Some pulled him into an endless dream of some sort, sealing him within an imaginary dream world.

At other times, they directly shackled his divine power and even his soul, causing his body to fall into deep slumber while only a faint trace of his consciousness remained awake.

There were even times when he was sealed yet remained fully conscious, whilst subjected to daily torture and punishment that would be unbearable for most ordinary beings.

He had experienced far too many of such circumstances.

However, Azazel felt that none of those previous seals he had encountered in the past had ever disgusted him more than the one he was currently at.

—Deafeated.

He had been utterly defeated.

Defeated by a group of insignificant ants who hadn’t even reached the golden-rank!

Although his defeat was mainly due to his powers being sealed, such disgrace was still unacceptable to him.

Even though he’s a demon, he himself is still technically a God.

And regardless of his ties to the Abyss, his power was no different from that of ordinary deities.

As such, for divine beings like them, their dignity shall not be desecrated at any cost, and this applies to Demon Lords as well.

Yet now, despite being the illustrious and mighty Seventh Demon Lord and one of the rulers of a hell, Azazel had been reduced to nothing more than a stepping stone for these insignificant ants!

To say that he was furious, would be an understatement.

But what infuriated him even more was what happened afterwards, once these long-eared cretins had managed to successfully sealed him once again.

Just when he thought that he would finally have some peace and quiet for a while…

He was forcefully “awakened” once more!

To make matters worse, Azazel realized he had been rudely awakened only just a few hours after being forcefully put into slumber!

In front of him stood another group of elves.

And just like the ones before them, these group were also fully armed with their faces brimming in excitement, whilst sporting those aggravating, shit-eating grins of theirs.

Seeing the way they gazed at him made Azazel’s heart burn with utmost fury.

It was that look once again!

The look one gave to a mere toy or prey.

The excitement in their eyes and the glee they exuded—it was all too familiar to Azazel, for it was the very same expression he had when he watched those fools, whose been bewitched by him, tear each other apart.

He couldn’t understand it.

Not at all.

Even though he was a demon, he knew a bit about these elves and how they had been portrayed throughout the ages.

So when did these gentle, rabbit-like long-eared creatures become like this?

Why did they have such expressions, such looks?

Were these really the peaceful and nature-loving elves, or perhaps it is their true nature, akin to that of devils, and they’ve been merely masquerading it all along?

Moreover, weren’t beings of the material world supposed to inherently fear demons like himself?

Even if his strength was restricted, and even if they were here to reinforce the seal, as mortal beings, shouldn’t they still approach him with trembling reverence?

What’s wrong with these elves?

How can they keep laughing and have such a carefree attitude while fighting him?

These elves didn’t seem to have any of the reverence that lower beings should normally have toward higher beings like him.

On the contrary, Azazel could even sense a different emotion from their expressions and gazes…

Beneath the surface of their carefree demeanor lay an air of superiority, a subtle belligerence for his presence that was palpable during the prior battle.

And this realization only further deepened the humiliation that he felt deep inside.

What were they so proud of?

What gave them the right to be so arrogant?

Did they think they were the center of the world?

These elves were nothing more than overconfident insects, akin to maggots sitting in their nest, imagining within their puny minds that they ruled the world!

That wretched Yggdrasill—was she constantly sending these pests to torment him?

Azazel would never forget the very moment these elves had somehow managed to successfully sealed him.

Their excitement and smug satisfaction…

The joy they derived from stepping on him filled Azazel with indescribable rage.

It was like a regal king being pissed on and mocked by wretched beggars—a truly sickening feeling.

Humiliation.

This was by far, the utmost humiliation he has ever felt in his long span of existence!

He couldn’t let them succeed.

He absolutely couldn’t let them gain another victory over him at all cost!

Even with the restrictions imposed on his power and these damned elves under Yggdrasill’s protection, Azazel would never let them win so easily!

Azazel’s pride would never allow it!

And so…

The mighty Seventh Demon Lord finally began to take these new batch of elves more seriously.

He started observing their movements, while also constantly adapting his tactics in response.

His ultimate goal was only one thing:

—That is, to defeat every last one of these damned pests who dared challenge him, wave after wave!

He would show these cursed long-eared cretins that, despite being sealed and restrained, the dignity of the Seventh Demon Lord was not to be trifled with!

However, as Azazel put in the work and adjusted his tactics with each wave, the elves’ subsequent reactions left him feeling even more perplexed.

Instead of panicking, they seemed even more excited as he began to study their combat habits and alter his strategies…

“Whoa! This dungeon boss’s AI is really advanced! It has high memory schematics and can formulate and adapt to our tactics!”

“Now this is a real challenge! Don’t be scared! Everyone, charge! Take him down!”

Azazel: “…”

Despite his intentions, Azazel’s efforts were not entirely in vain.

His increased diligence in countering the players’ strategies created noticeable troubles for the subsequent challengers.

Thus, for a significant period, each wave of challengers’ success rate plummeted, and their performance ratings reflected a stark decline.

Yet, this status quo didn’t last long.

What left Azazel utterly exasperated was that no matter how fast he adapted, these lowly ants adapted even faster.

These fearless long-eared creatures seemed inherently born for battle.

And every time Azazel adjusted his strategy to counteract their tactics, they developed new methods at an even faster pace!

And it didn’t stop there.

Even though he had fought one group of elves today, the next day brought a completely different set of adversaries.

These new elves, however, seemed eerily familiar with the tactics and strategies employed by their predecessors.

It was as if they had absorbed all the knowledge and experience from the previous group, anticipating his every move and countering it with precision as though they had been there themselves.

And no matter how hard he fought, the outcome remained always the same:

—He would be re-sealed, time and time again.

Whether he defeated a few waves of elves first, or held out for a day or two, the result was always the same.

Experiencing such an endless cycle of defeat day after day, was far more mentally exhausting and frustrating than any prison he had experienced in the past.

Over time, as he observed these elves repeatedly, Azazel finally understood how they saw him as…

“So… to them, I’m nothing more than a mere figure to be toyed with!”

“Wretched Yggdrasill! She created this entire labyrinth just to entertain these pathetic ants with me as the central piece, to be toyed with and manipulated at her whim!”

Realizing this almost made him explode with rage.

“No, I can’t keep going like this. I won’t let them win anymore!”

He was tired.

Truly exhausted, physically drained and humiliated beyond measure…

Thus, Azazel finally made a bold decision:

“Fine, do as you will. I’m not playing along anymore!”

Thus, he gave up.

He simply refused to fight.

He even let them seal him easily if they wanted.

It wasn’t like he could escape anyway…

At least in this way, he wouldn’t be giving these despicable creatures any more fun at his expense!

However, when Azazel decided to “went on a strike,” the elves’ reactions were entirely unexpected.

“Whoa! The boss isn’t moving! Is it a bug?!”

“Hahahaha! What a great opportunity! Everyone, charge! Take advantage of this bug and finish him off! We’ll definitely gonna get a perfect rating!”

“Wait! Wait up guys! Let me get a selfie with the boss first!”

With excited cheers, the elves became even more thrilled, attacking the “currently-on-strike” Azazel with greater violence and enthusiasm than ever before.

They jumped around him, poking and prodding, while also posing for pictures.

As Azazel sank into slumber yet again for that day, the last thing he saw was those elves’ faces, filled with even more glee like never before…

Those smug, satisfied look of theirs felt as if they had scored a massive victory.

Azazel: “…”

Why did it feel like…

They were even happier now?!

At that moment, Azazel was left utterly confused.

— 417 —

【 THEY WERE EVEN HAPPIER NOW? 】

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