SUPREME ARCH-MAGUS-Chapter 631: Blood Bath (2)

The battlefield on Mount Meru fell into an eerie silence as Kent now held the demon prince throat high in the air.

Kent’s golden mane crackled with energy, and his claws, stained with blood, gripped the prince’s throat. The once-boastful prince now crumbled in agony, his face contorted in terror.

The demons below, who had roared with confidence moments before, froze. Their eyes widened as they watched their leader dangle helplessly in Kent’s iron grip. Fear rippled through their ranks as the air filled with the prince’s tortured cries.

"Put our prince down!" one of the demon elders bellowed, his voice trembling with forced authority. "You cannot harm the prince of the Nether Realms! Release him now, mortal, or face the wrath of our entire race!"

Another elder stepped forward, attempting to rally the troops. "Attack him! Overwhelm him with your numbers!"

But none of the demons moved. Their earlier resolve had evaporated into terror as they watched the gruesome spectacle unfold.

A few braver demons launched feeble attacks, hurling fireballs and curses toward Kent, but he shrugged them off as if they were nothing. With a guttural roar, Kent slashed his free hand through the air, sending a shockwave that scattered the attackers like leaves in a storm.

"Enough!" Kent growled, his voice reverberating like thunder. He tightened his grip on the demon prince’s neck, forcing another scream of pain. "You want mercy? Hehehe… I will show you great mercy!"

The prince’s voice was choked, barely audible. "S-stop… I am… the prince… of the Nether Realms… my father…"

"Your father will know the price of your doing today," Kent spat.

Kent roared again, lifting the demon prince even higher. With a sickening crack, he tore one of the prince’s arms from its socket as easily as plucking a branch from a tree. Blood sprayed across the battlefield, and the demon prince’s agonized screams echoed across the mountaintop.

The sight of their prince’s mangled body shattered the morale of the remaining demons. Many fell to their knees, wailing and beating their foreheads in despair.

"The prince… the prince is dying!" one demon sobbed.

"We’re doomed!" another cried.

The seven demon elders, who had boasted of their strength and the prince’s invincibility, now cowered in fear. They staggered back, their faces pale. "A human... below the Nine Realms… dared to do this… to the demon prince?" one whispered, his voice trembling.

"No mortal would dare," another elder murmured, his eyes wide with disbelief. "He is something unbelievable. This is madness."

But Kent paid them no mind. He tossed the severed arm aside like garbage and brought the prince closer, his claws still gripping his throat. Blood poured from the prince’s wounds, soaking Kent’s golden fur, but his lion-like form seemed unfazed by the gore.

Suddenly, a voice pierced through the tension.

"Kent! Stop this madness!" Ignira leapt toward him, her expression a mix of anger and desperation. Her crimson hair blazed like fire, and her voice carried the weight of authority.

She landed near Kent’s chariot, her fiery aura flaring. "You’ve already gone too far! If you kill him, you’ll bring the wrath of the entire demon race upon you. The demon emperor will hunt you down, in this life and the next. Do you think you can protect your remaining companions after killing demon prince? Do you think you can outrun his vengeance?"

Kent didn’t even turn his head. His glowing eyes remained locked on the demon prince, who now gasped weakly, barely clinging to life.

Ignira’s voice grew louder, more desperate. "Listen to me, Kent! The ritual is almost complete! The sages don’t need your rage—they need your control! Stop now before it’s too late!"

But Kent was deaf to her pleas. His heart, consumed by grief and fury, had no room for reason. His body trembled, not from exhaustion but from the raw emotion surging through him. Kavi’s death replayed in his mind over and over, her lifeless gaze burning into his soul.

For a moment, his hand holding the prince’s throat lowered slightly, and the prince’s feet touched the chariot floor. The demons below, and even Ignira, held their breath. Was Kent finally going to show mercy?

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But the flicker of hope was extinguished in an instant.

Kent sat on the chariot seat, his claws still gripping the prince. With deliberate slowness, he laid the prince’s broken body horizontally across his knees. The prince whimpered, his strength gone, his once-commanding presence reduced to a pitiful shell.

"You took Kavi from me," Kent growled, his voice low and deadly. "Now, I’ll take everything from you."

He raised his clawed hands high into the air, lightning crackling around them. The demons below screamed in horror, some turning away, unable to watch what was about to happen.

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"STOP!" Ignira roared, lunging forward. But Kent’s claws came down with unrelenting force.

With a single, savage motion, Kent tore through the demon prince’s stomach, ripping him open in a shower of blood and entrails. The prince’s final scream was a grotesque symphony of pain and terror, echoing into the night as his body went limp.

The battlefield fell silent, save for the ritual chants that continued in the background. The demon prince’s mutilated body slumped lifelessly on Kent’s knees, his blood pooling at Kent’s feet.

The demons were frozen in place, their faces masks of shock and despair. Some began to retreat, others fell to the ground, wailing. The seven elders, once so confident in their superiority, stared at Kent with unmasked fear.

Ignira, standing mere feet away, was speechless. For the first time, her fiery confidence wavered. "You’ve doomed us all," she whispered.

Kent stood, his claws dripping with blood, his lion-like form towering over the battlefield. He turned his gaze to the remaining demons, his voice like thunder.

"Let this be a message," he roared. "To all who dare harm those under my protection—this is your fate."

As if to punctuate his words, a bolt of lightning struck the earth, splitting the sky with its brilliance. The demons scattered, fleeing in terror, their spirits broken.

Above them, the ritual reached its climax, the sages’ chants growing louder, their voices resonating with divine power. And atop the chariot, bathed in golden light, Kent stood as both savior and executioner, his rage unquenched.

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