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173 Limbo!
🕑 Added 2025-08-22 11:09:54 +0000 UTCThe world stabilized once more.
Russell did not return to the real world. Instead, he followed the mark to another dimension.
It was a land of molten lava.
There, a figure clad in enchanted armor was locked in fierce battle with several fire demons—Clea.
She no longer spent all her time in Kamar-Taj. With Wanda’s magic growing ever stronger, capable of guarding reality itself, Clea had turned her focus to patrolling the borders of Hell.
Her movements flowed seamlessly between spellcraft and swordplay—graceful, fierce, and untamed. Clearly, she had not been idle in her training.
But the fire demons were relentless. Their madness grew as the battle raged on.
At the peak of the fight, one demon, its chest pierced by Clea’s Soulblade, let out a guttural roar before self-destructing.
In an instant, a massive sphere of ionized fire, dozens of meters wide, erupted outward. A blackened mushroom cloud spiraled into the sky as shockwaves split the earth. Nearby volcanoes ruptured, spewing rivers of burning ash and magma.
Scarlet lightning crackled through the eruption, striking again and again until even a dozen high-ranking flame demons were swallowed by the inferno.
Then—a thunderous roar shook the realm.
All the flames from the explosion surged together, flowing like molten rivers into three distinct vortices.
From each, a colossal figure emerged, their forms swelling larger and larger until their true shapes were revealed.
The three surviving fire demons had absorbed the detonation’s infernal essence. They had evolved.
Their bodies grew to three or four times their original size. Horns spiraled forward from their skulls like demonic lances. Shattered obsidian armor clung to their hulking frames. Red-hot chains coiled in their fists, and the aura they radiated was far more terrifying than before.
Clea’s expression hardened.
“Three… Balrogs?!”
Her stomach sank. “When did it become this easy for demons to evolve?! This makes no sense!”
Was it some low-probability anomaly? Or was someone deliberately orchestrating this?
No time to wonder. Clea instantly began to weave a teleportation spell, aiming to retreat back to reality.
But before the portal could stabilize, the three newly-born Balrogs roared in unison.
Space itself shuddered. The glowing gateway flickered violently—then shattered into nothing.
Clea’s face paled.
She thrust out her palm, blasting one of the Balrogs back with a torrent of crackling eldritch energy. At the same time, a vast magic circle flared to life in the air before her.
It pulsed with power—its runes already on the verge of summoning.
Biting her tongue, Clea spat blood across the glyphs. The circle flared crimson, its light shifting from blue to blood-red.
The spell had changed. Its new function: to draw the attention of every demon nearby.
Only through chaos would there be a chance of escape.
The sky burned dark red.
A deep, mocking laugh echoed across the heavens:
“My good child… after all these years, you are still so decisive. My judgment was never wrong.”
“But this time, I won’t let you escape so easily.”
As the voice fell, the glowing runes on Illyana’s summoning circle twisted and warped, reshaping themselves into symbols of pure demonic power.
The circle swelled outward, expanding into a vast blood-red barrier that sealed her and the three Balrogs inside.
Illyana’s expression shifted instantly, her face paling. She gasped the name in fury and disbelief:
“Belasco!”
Now she understood why the Balrogs had evolved at the same time. Her old master had returned.
“No… this is impossible!” she shouted, her voice trembling with rage. “I sealed you in the outer abyss of Limbo! You shouldn’t be able to break free!”
Years ago, she had battled Belasco when he was wounded, binding him deep within Limbo’s chaotic void. She couldn’t destroy him outright—the Lord of Limbo could not truly be killed—so sealing him was her only choice. Without external power, there should have been no way for him to break the binding.
Yet here he was.
A delighted voice answered her:
“My precious student, you must understand… this world is full of surprises.”
“Just now, the very fabric of dimensions trembled. Something catastrophic shook reality itself. Even Hell shivered in response.”
“And in that quake… your seal broke.”
Belasco’s cruel laughter reverberated through the burning air. “I expected you to flee back to Earth. But instead, you lingered here. How considerate of you, my child—you’ve saved me the effort of chasing you.”
His voice dripped with malice. “Play with my three little pets for a while. Show me how much you’ve grown. And when you fail… I’ll craft punishments for you beyond imagination.”
Illyana’s face darkened. She knew exactly what he meant.
If she fell into Belasco’s hands, her body would be twisted and reshaped again and again until she became the perfect vessel for him.
The Balrogs roared in unison. Their chains of molten hellfire lashed outward, surrounding her. The blackened rock beneath her feet cracked and melted into seething magma, rising into a half-meter-deep pool that boiled and spat embers.
The heat was suffocating, forcing Illyana to expend even more magic just to shield her body.
The battle began anew.
But this time she was on the back foot. Her strikes lacked the sharpness of before. Every movement was slower, heavier. She was forced to defend again and again with spells and with her Soul Sword, unable to mount a proper counterattack.
It was only a matter of time before she fell.
A thunderous crash shook the barrier. One Balrog’s chain struck her squarely, hurling her body across the blood-red prison wall. The Soul Sword flickered in her hand, destabilized—and dissolved into nothing, vanishing into the magma below.
High above, Belasco hovered, his broken body slowly knitting itself together with streams of dark crimson energy. He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment.
“Tch. After all these years, you are still as pathetic as ever, Illyana.”
“You can’t even defeat three of my Balrogs. It seems I’ll need to reconsider how best to remake you.”
His eyes gleamed with sadistic delight. “But first… you must be punished, my dear. You must relearn what it means to betray your master.”
At his command, the three Balrogs ceased their assault. Purple fire, alien to them, ignited on their bodies like candles.
The barrier’s temperature soared. This flame did not burn flesh—it burned the soul. Agonizing beyond words, it was designed to break spirit rather than body.
Belasco smiled cruelly. “Don’t worry. As long as you don’t die, I can always heal you. Over and over again.”
But the scream he anticipated never came.
Instead, Illyana staggered to her feet, her hand pressed against her chest, her face dazed… almost confused.
She wasn’t resisting.
Belasco frowned. Was something wrong with his magic?
And then—
A cold wind blew through the inferno. A northern wind, out of place in Hell itself. It stirred her hair, streaking strands of gold into silver.
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