Chapter 893: Lord Tier Bloodline
Shock and horror rippled across the eyes of every Devil in the core of the Third Layer as the massive body of the three-headed hellhound crashed through the wall and tumbled bleeding onto the scorched ground.
"Lord Cerberus?" one of the Devils whispered in disbelief, its voice trembling with awe and confusion.
Cerberus was no mere beast. He was a Superior Legend, one of the most feared guardians of the Third Layer—an apex predator whose duty was to guard this sector of the Wall of Torment. His presence alone was enough to terrify any fiend short of a Lord. He was respected, feared, worshipped, and hated in equal measure. None dared to challenge him. Yet now he lay broken, one of his heads obliterated, his body rolling helplessly in a pool of his own blood.
All eyes immediately shifted to the blasted gates. From the ruin of blackened stone and burning soul-flesh, a group of figures emerged.
The lesser Devils felt the pressure of their auras and froze. Instinct overtook them. They turned and fled in terror. There was no such thing as collateral damage in Hell; stronger Devils never cared how many lesser ones they crushed beneath their battles. To linger here would be suicide. The only survival for the weak was to run and hide, praying to be overlooked.
Vlad did not spare even a glance at the scattering rabble. His eyes locked upon Cerberus. There was no pity in them, no mercy—only cold calculation. And yet, deep in that gaze, a flicker of surprise burned. Not for the hound, but for himself.
He had underestimated the power of his altered body. Overlord’s transformation had been completed mere minutes before their descent into Hell. He had not yet had the chance to properly analyze the results. And already, his single punch had shattered a beast feared by all the Third Layer.
For a moment, Vlad allowed himself a breath and gave a mental command.
"A.I. Chip—scan me."
The robotic tone echoed in his mind, cold and precise:
[Beep! Initiating Scan of Host...
...
Name: Vlad Xaos
Race: True Depravita
Class: True Sun Depravita
...
Level (Energy): 27 → 29
Level (Body): 34 → 36
Life Level: Lord Tier
Lineage: Destruction Sun Devil (Lord Tier)
...
Stats:
Strength: 54.1 → 89.2
Agility: 46.2 → 79.1
Vitality: 61.1 → 100.4
Energy Pool (Depravita Aura): 8.1 → 20.1 → 31.2
Soul Force: 22.1 → 36.7
...
Seal of Sin: Soul of Wrath
...
Racial Skills:
Will of Wrath
Eyes of Wrath
...
Gift: Depravita Samsara Typhoon]
A wide smile tugged at Vlad’s lips as the data streamed across his consciousness. Most of the changes were cosmetic—altering his form so thoroughly that he could pass as a Devil and even harness the hostile Laws of Hell as fuel for growth. But hidden among those aesthetic shifts was the true treasure: Overlord had successfully transplanted the bloodline of Acrox, the Devil Lord that Vlad had slain.
That bloodline had healed the wounds left by the backlash of Depravita Samsara Typhoon and, more than that, had elevated him. His body and soul both surged upward. His energy pool had leapt into the High Legend Rank, and his body now brushed dangerously close to the peak of the Superior Legendary Realm.
It was a victory in itself. Yet Vlad’s eyes quickly grew cold again.
They were on a timer.
Even now, the armies of Graecia spread like wildfire across the Zanis Homeworld. Every sector, every fortress was falling under their march. They were closing in on the scarlet force field at the planet’s heart. Their invasion would strike the moment Vlad and his group destroyed its core from within.
There was no room for hesitation. No room for mercy.
He stepped toward Cerberus. The massive beast still lay dazed and bleeding, its two surviving heads groaning, its body twitching with pain. Vlad kicked it, his foot striking with such overwhelming strength that the hellhound’s body rolled through the streets, shattering black stone buildings and crushing dozens of lesser Devils unlucky enough to be in its path.
The impact jarred the beast awake. Its remaining heads lifted weakly, their burning eyes flickering with both rage and dawning horror. They turned toward the pulp of gore where the third head had once been—and then toward Vlad.
The young devil walked toward it, calm, composed, gaze sharp and merciless.
"Who is the Master of this Sector?" Vlad asked coldly.
He had done his homework before descending into Hell. Outside the Wall of Torment was chaos—nothing but mayhem and slaughter. But inside the core, there was structure. Hell’s hierarchy manifested in the form of Sectors, each one defined and bound by an Infernal Monolith. Whoever seized control of a Monolith seized control of the Origin Force of that sector, their power swelling to terrifying heights.
But it came at a price. To rule a Sector was to paint a target on one’s back. Every Devil would see you as prey. The strongest survived; the rest were torn apart.
Vlad’s mission was not simple bloodshed. His group could not simply storm through the Third Layer demanding the location of the hidden portal. That would alert too many, draw too much chaos. The smarter path was to rise—to take a foothold in the hierarchy, seize authority, and use it to quietly unearth the portal’s location.
It was dangerous. It was brutal. But it was certain.
Cerberus did not dare defy him. Broken, humiliated, one head gone, his body drenched in blood, he lowered his gaze and rasped out an answer.
"The Sector Master... is Loatan."
A brutal smile spread across Vlad’s lips. His eyes glowed faintly with the light of Wrath.
"Good," he said softly. "Take us to him."
The next second, Vlad jumped into the back of the massive hellhound, and so did the rest of the True Depravitas and Overlord. They had just destroyed one of its heads, and now they were using it as a mount. It was a great offense, but it was also very normal.
This was Hell.