Your Majesty's money, why don't you engrave my name on it?

As the spurs from behind the boot slammed into the belly of the mount, Nightmare raised its head in the same silence. The next moment, before all the attacks arrived, it and its mount, Raslaw, disappeared from the sea, leaving only a fleeting afterimage that was swept away by the waves whipped up by the cannon fire.

"Damn it, where did he go?! Find him for me!"

Nior snatched the massive hammer from the four sailors, roaring as he kept his eyes glued to the sea, afraid of missing a single detail. Behind them, a figure in red appeared like a ghost—the Tifflin witch. Her eyes were now completely black, and suddenly, with a piercing scream, she pointed to the deck of a two-wheeled sailing ship, where Raslaufer appeared at the same time!

The saturation bombardment immediately covered the entire ship. The ship, anchored in the harbor and with its anchor still in place, was destroyed by its own builder. But Nior, fearing that Raslaufer might not be dead, launched an even more intense barrage, and two nearby ships also met the same fate of sinking.

Leslaufer... he should be dead, right?

"Over there!" the witch screamed again, and as she pointed, Leslaufer's figure appeared once more on the mast of another ship. "He's using Nightmare's power to warp between the ethereal plane and the material plane!"

"That was too fast!" Nior saw his team unleash another barrage of firepower, but he also saw Leslaufer disappear from his spot. "Tell me where he'll land next!"

A powerful burst of magic, carrying the scent of sulfur, erupted from the witch's body. With her silence and a flick of her finger, a large red X-shaped mark appeared in mid-air. As Raslaufer once again escaped from the ethereal plane with the nightmare, a massive barrage of artillery fire immediately enveloped him in the air!

"Haha! You hit it!" Nior burst into near-maniacal laughter. "Let's see what you're capable of now..."

His laughter and the relaxed expressions of Henning and the others suddenly froze on the spot. Under the billowing smoke, they saw a pair of dragon wings covered in scales unfold from it!

The dragon wings were bony and possessed characteristics of dragon, demon, and even devil wings. As the streamlined lines extended to the base, a three-meter-long body, also appearing stitched together, emerged from the smoke and dust, with a long, whip-like tail of sharp spikes falling from behind. Beneath the axe-blade-like horns was the completely mutated face of Raslaufer, a greatsword still clutched in his hand, and while the spurs beneath his feet were almost fused with his body, the Nightmare had vanished.

Perhaps for Nightmare Riders, Nightmares are essential partners in battle, but for Raslaufer, they are merely a means of getting around.

"Reslaufer!" Seeing that his old friend, who should have died long ago, was still unharmed, Nior roared again. In an instant, the seawater around Coldstone Island seemed to darken considerably, almost turning black. As the surrounding environment changed, a large amount of black mucus gushed from Nior's pores. Fish faces, gills, fins, and even scales appeared out of thin air on his body, and his body began to become bloated and obese. The flowing black mucus was rapidly transforming into tentacles like those of a cephalopod, hanging down from his jaw and other parts of his body, and then dancing according to Nior's will.

Seeing this, a slight change finally appeared in the depths of Raslaufer's eyes, which had turned purple or even scarlet since his return from hell. He remembered this; it was the operation he and Nior had joined years ago, a light cavalryman named Benjamin who had heard Raslaufer recount that disaster. It hadn't left many marks on Raslaufer, but now it seemed that it was probably this Nior who bore all the blessings… or rather, the curse.

"Reslaufer, do you think you alone can obtain all the power in the world?!" Nior's voice had completely turned into a hoarse whisper, and even the lifeless iron armor and giant hammer on his body had changed as he was stained by the black slime, becoming as if they were alive, baring their blood-red mouths with sharp teeth at Reslaufer. The surrounding pirates and sailors scrambled away, wishing they had two more legs.

If they stayed with a chief in this state, they might actually grow two more legs—or even more!

But none of this mattered to Reslaufer.

Doble stared at the strange figure standing on the city wall, listened to its words, observed its movements, and even processed its aura. All of this, in Raslaufer's eyes, ultimately transformed into a single, unmistakable thread running across Nior's body. And all of this, Nior perceived without hesitation.

"You intend to defeat me with a single strike? How utterly arrogant!" A gash appeared on the grotesque body on the ground, the part that could no longer be called a "head." "The call from the deep sea allows me to see into minds; none of your intentions can escape my notice! You will surely die today!"

Looking at the twisted and swollen body, Leslaufer couldn't help but smile.

Indeed, he has never been able to handle this kind of ability... but today he has no mood to experience that kind of brute force clash.

The next moment, a lance burning with grayish-white hellfire suddenly appeared in Dubler's hand. The next moment, as the lance flew towards Nior, the blade of his two-handed greatsword had already pierced through the spine of the Ampiri, cutting the still trembling body in two at the waist!

Having endured the baptism of bloody battles, Raslaufer was already able to discern his opponent's every move, a skill that compensated for his inability to perceive the mind. As for Nior, a fool who had abandoned his martial arts to embrace the deep sea, transforming himself into something neither human nor ghost, even if Nior knew all of Raslaufer's actions and intentions, he couldn't possibly keep up with his movements at this moment! With his usual overwhelming fighting spirit, Raslaufer unleashed two full rounds of power!

Within mere seconds!

The sword slicing through his waist wasn't the only strike, merely the finishing blow. As Nior was cleaved in two, Raslaufer crashed to the ground, the seemingly still-living black slime sliding off upon contact with him. His eyes briefly returned to their original icy blue, and as he scanned every living creature present, he spoke in human language:

"You have three seconds to take your own lives."

A scarlet tongue emerged from the crack in the skull, sweeping across the upper and lower lips.

"And the rest of you will be jealous..."

"……deceased."

Chapter 725 Philna's Intervention

The waves continued to crash against the rocks of Coldstone Island, but behind this noisy background noise were countless desperate groans and cries.

Dozens, or perhaps hundreds, of intestines were twisted together in a cable and dragged in one hand. Behind that body, which resembled neither a dragon nor a demon, was a shell that matched the number of these organs.

Blood flowed through the cracks in the bricks of the fortress, just like the life of their former owners that was slowly slipping away. However, under the influence of magic, even though the blood plasma could float the wooden blocks, it would still take much longer for these people to meet their final death.

They probably couldn't have imagined that death could also be a continuous verb.

Although their deaths were far more painful than those of the few who were initially terrified and committed suicide, their suffering will seem sweet and…merciful in the not-too-distant future compared to the rest of the population.

"Where are your devilish friends, witch?"

Raslaufer dragged the chain hammer made up of a large number of dying people, step by step approaching through half of the fortress until he reached the central platform. There, the once beautiful Tifflin witch had now reverted to her hunched and ugly appearance. She trembled and huddled in a corner, her only remaining eye staring in terror at the gradually enlarging Raslaufer through her disheveled hair under her hood.

Three thousand six hundred people, plus non-combatants, nearly five thousand! Even now, the witch can't believe that all of them were slaughtered by a single person on the other side! Only a handful of people remain!

This was by no means an oversight on Leslaufer's part—he did it on purpose! He wanted to leave them until the very end to kill them, even though they possessed martial arts and magic!

Because these pose absolutely no threat to him!

However, what the witch was more eager to figure out now was something else entirely: why, why, no matter how she called out or pleaded with her master in Hell for help, could she receive no response?!

No devils! Not a single one! If we could summon an entire devil squad like we did when we kidnapped Duncan, things wouldn't be like this—

Raslaufer's arms moved, the heavy, fleshy chain mace carving deep furrows in the ground. Even he couldn't lift it, only drag it along the ground. Yet, this ball of flesh, carrying unparalleled force, slammed into the witch's side. In an instant, as if struck by the cannons and catapults of an entire fortress, the witch felt her skeleton shatter into pieces. Her tattered body flew through the air, crashing heavily into the dust.

But Dobler wasn't going to let her off so easily. His wings flapped behind him with a whooshing sound as they cut through the air, and the next second, his fist, as big as a pot, was already pressed against the witch's broken jaw.

"Mistress—!"

Knowing that she could not escape no matter what, the witch gave up her last thought of survival. In an instant, with her shrill scream, her last eyeball and her remaining life force became a sacrifice to the Nine Hells. Green infernal flames rose up instantly and enveloped Dubul.

With a cold snort, Raslaw simply swung his arms, shattering the fragile and powerless counterattack. At the same time, the witch's last remaining flesh and blood were also scattered, turning into foul-smelling ashes in the air.

However, among the countless fleeting flames that should have dissipated, one wisp did not vanish like its kind. Instead, it took root and quickly sprouted and blossomed on the land covered with blood and flesh, forming an oval-shaped gate to purgatory.

Leslaufer narrowed his eyes. He could have stopped its growth, but... he would have preferred to sever the neck of the demon that emerged from within.

A graceful figure emerged from behind the faint curtain of flames of the portal—Leslaufer was certain it wasn't Zhengling, Museco, or Zariel.

But it might be even worse.

"Long time no see, dear soldier?" The red-skinned devil with small horns, wearing a gorgeous robe, stepped out of her expensive custom-made boots and stepped into the filth on the ground without any hesitation. She raised one index finger and placed it next to her red lips with a faint smile. "It's been so long, and you are still... so impatient."

Are you trying to strangle me with your claws?

With a clang, Raslaufer retracted his right hand. If he still didn't know the other party's name by now, he would be too slow-witted: "Grand Duchess Philna. You were behind all of this?"

“Me? No, why would I do that?” The Demon Grand Duke lowered his fingers and admired the newly applied dye on his nails. “You should still remember how all this started, shouldn’t you? The one who made the contract with me was the old king, and you killed him. This person in charge is Gracia’s, and has nothing to do with me… well, at least not after that king named Henning ascended the throne.”

Leslaufer frowned, then realized everything: "That bastard's wish is for his father to die early so he can inherit the throne, but he doesn't want to do it himself?"

“That can’t be considered an early death,” Philna shrugged. “Apart from that, it’s just as you said. As for this time, it’s entirely your fault. Who told you to kill one of her Sin Demons? That arrogant fool Gracia was planning to keep him for herself, after all, he actually intended to break free from his queen’s rule by transforming into a Nightmare Rider. But… I told her, but she still underestimated your intensity, tsk tsk.”

Gracia was more than happy to give Raslaufer a "small" nasty scare, but sending an army of demons to fight him to the death? Forget it. And that's why the witch couldn't summon a single demon no matter what she tried.

"Anyway, I'm here. How about we stop? Your method of killing is putting me in a difficult position."

Raslaufer lowered his body slightly. Behind him, the abandoned mass of flesh and blood, the chain hammer, was still not completely dead. And throughout the fortress, the groans of bandits, who had been completely deprived of their mobility but were still alive, rose and fell with the tide.

"I don't think this has anything to do with you."

“Of course it’s related. Have you forgotten about that demiplane you’re attached to?” The Demon Grand Duke shook his head. “More than half of the souls here are qualified to fall into hell. If you kill them all, it will be a real and huge loss.”

"For my sake, hand them over to me, how about it? To become numb spirits and eternally tormented souls, I think you would prefer the latter as their future."

Raslaufer sized up the great demon. He still couldn't quite figure out why she had targeted him. If only similarities in style were considered, perhaps Zariel's favor would be more plausible. But regardless, both Philna herself and her follower, Zhengling, had provided Raslaufer and his friends with considerable assistance—whether on equal footing or not. If she insisted on taking these souls…

“Yes,” Doble nodded slowly, “but there are three people left, and they must be exceptions.”

Chapter 726 Blood Eagle Punishment

Philna knew who Raslaufer was referring to. Even if she didn't know, there were only three or five living people left on Cold Rock Island besides the prison, so it was hard not to guess.

But she still followed Raslaufer with great interest, wanting to see what fate awaited these people.

If the Demon Queen truly had that kind of patience, she might need to watch for several days until they finally breathed their last.

Count Cartina hid himself in a dog hole, but Raslaufer grabbed his legs and dragged him out. He didn't even have a chance to beg for mercy before a wooden pole went through his back door and out his throat.

A few minutes later, Louise Strongman met her end. One of her eyes peeked out from the bloody hole in her chest, staring unfocused as the man walked in another direction. She tried to scream, but taking a deep breath would only cause her internal organs to block her mouth.

Her protector had long since died somewhere unknown, or perhaps, part of his remains were among the enormous flesh and blood chain hammer on the central platform.

Raslaufer stood before the spot where Henning had hidden—a water vat, a place that should not be the burial place of a king.

He probably needs... air.

Raslaufer yanked open the lid and pulled Henning out like a child. The king covered his head and crown in terror, trembling all over. Even though he hadn't looked outside at all, the pitiful wails of Count Katina and Louise were enough to terrify the young man.

“You…you can’t kill me, I am your king…no, no, no,” he pleaded, suddenly recalling that snowy night years ago, “I was forced into this situation, I made a pact with the devil, not everyone has the right to defy him…”

Leslaufer threw him to the ground, and as he stepped on Henning's chest, he suddenly noticed a scar on his face: "Who gave you this?"

"What...this!" Henning snapped out of his daze and hurriedly said, "It's...it's Lady Skadi, no, Lady Skadi! When we were making our move, she suddenly attacked me...this...this is already considered punishment, right?"

If he manages to return alive, he will likely be known as "Scarface" Henning for the rest of his life, but compared to dying here, and dying in the same way as those two, that would be an immense blessing.

Where is she now?

“She…she’s alive! Yes, I didn’t do anything to them!” Henning clung to a lifeline. “Scotty, Dieter, Duncan! They’re all alive! In the cell! I ordered that we not do anything to them! Please, I…I’ll do anything…”

Ignoring Henning's pleas, Raslaufer continued to press, "What about the children? And that goblin bear called Beast?"

"The children are all in the capital, the goblin... Louise did the goblin thing!"

Leslaufer nodded: "So, in that case, you can be considered a king to some extent."

Henning lay on his back on the ground, nodding with difficulty but as much as he could: "Yes, yes! No matter what, we can't do this to a few children—"

“Then, I will give you a result commensurate with your status as king,” Dubler looked at his rough hands and transformed back into his original human form. “Grand Duchess Philna, would you mind doing me a small favor?”

Philna, who was watching, or rather, admiring, all of this, raised an eyebrow: "What, are you afraid he'll die halfway through because it's too complicated? I'll have to ask the sect leader for his opinion."

The Great Demon's eyelids closed slightly, then reopened after a moment. She had already received the answer from her colleagues: "Perfectly possible. However, Gracia is bored with your executions. If the last one still doesn't satisfy her, you'll need to provide an explanation for the constant killing of her followers and leaders. What do you think?"

Before Leslaufer could answer, the Grand Duke suddenly laughed: "Of course, I can also give her that explanation for you, it's not difficult, is it? But to be honest, I also want to see how you do it. If you can satisfy me, perhaps I can tell you something—aren't you ever confused about your own existence?"

Raslaufer glanced at her. "This devil is getting excited," he thought. Trying to actively pursue this would backfire; the devil loves nothing more than seeing people wanting something they can't have.

However, Raslaufer has no intention of changing his final ruling on Henning.

The king, listening to the conversation between the "human" and the devil, was now as pale as paper. But inexplicably, a powerful magic surged from the depths of his soul, stirring up a boundless life force. No matter what punishment he was about to suffer, this was enough to ensure that he would still live in this world.

Immortality—a power many people dream of—but if it were used for something like this, Henning only regretted not heeding Raslaufer's warning sooner and ending his own life.

But now it's all too late.

Raslaufer found a large axe, walked back, and kicked Henning over. The sharp blade of the axe cut through the king's clothes and flesh on his back until his spine and ribs were exposed. As Henning screamed, two lobes of his lungs were pulled out of the wound and hung on his back like a pair of bloody "wings".

Unable to die, Henning breathed violently in fear, the air churning his lungs as they expanded and contracted, making him resemble a chick flapping its wings, waiting to be slaughtered. As long as his sect leader continued to enjoy this state, he would forever remain in this miserable condition.

“The Ampiri call it the Blood Eagle or the Blood Pigeon,” Raslaufer nodded to Philna, took two steps back, and looked at the blood splattered around Henning, outlining the two wings that were still flapping, thin lungs larger than wings. “Since you like to find an Ampiri to help you solve your problems, then this is your fate.”

Henning was completely speechless at this moment, and could only look at Philna with pleading eyes. However, it was clear that asking a demon duke for help was destined to be fruitless. Looking at this mortal who kept writhing on the ground but could do nothing, and could not even wait for death, the demon showed a satisfied smile to Leslaufer.

“Very good, soldier,” Philna stretched out her hand. In that instant, Henning’s life force was stripped away, but Philna infused him with new life. “Although Gracia still doesn’t find it interesting, I know she’s just being stubborn. I will keep my promise.”

"Reslaufer, do you know what kind of being would have absolutely no memory of the past?"

The devil laughed wickedly, stretching out her hand. A chaotic sphere of black and white light projected onto her palm: "Normally, only those lives 'created' midway through their existence. If you were born a teenager instead of living for over a decade, how could you possibly have memories of time that don't exist?"

The two-colored sphere rolled around in Philna's hand. Suddenly, as Raslaufer's pupils contracted, the black and white parts separated, turning into two completely pure colors. The black part looked large and thick, while the white part was small and thin.

“Look, this is where it is,” Philna said, glancing in the direction Leslaufer was looking. “Oh, don’t get it wrong, the big one is you. Oh, right, not entirely.”

As he spoke, the white ball in the Grand Duke's hand was instantly stained gray, while on the other side, a line of clear white was born from the pure black ball.

Philna uttered a lament: "Ah, this is disorder and chaos, isn't it? Perfect order is inevitably corrupted, while pure chaos can give birth to normal rules. How difficult to control, how... disgusting."

Chapter 727 Saving People and Killing People

Are you talking about me?

Raslaw raised an eyebrow: "If that's really what you think, then why are you helping me?"

“Of course it’s profitable,” Philna shrugged. “And let me clarify, I’m not targeting you personally, I mean… cough, I mean a ‘phenomenon’.”

"But explaining too much to a non-researcher like you would be a waste of breath, wouldn't it?" The great demon revealed a strange smile, then waved her arm, and a flame instantly transformed into a portal, appearing beside her.

Goodbye, darling, we'll meet again.

Doble watched helplessly as the Grand Duke disappeared into the material world. He wanted to stop her, but for a moment he couldn't think of what he should do to stop her—if Philna insisted on speaking in riddles, then no matter what question he asked, she probably wouldn't give Raslaufer an answer.

But... what exactly do those two spheres, one black and one white, mean?

Raslaufer had little time to ponder. At his feet, Henning, still passively full of life and vitality, continued to groan in pain and despair, begging Raslaufer to give him a quick death. But Raslaufer was destined not to grant him that mercy.

“Even if you were coerced by the devil’s pact, you still had a choice, but you chose the most dangerous path,” Raslaufer kicked him, and his two flapping lungs suddenly quickened their pace. “I gave you a throne, which means I never worry about whether I can take it back.”

He took two steps to the side, bent down, picked up the metal headband that was no longer of any use to Henning, and casually put it on his wrist: "Alright, it's about time, come with me."

Even without transforming, Raslaufer could still lift Henning up with one hand. He carried the "Blood Eagle" step by step across the "hell" he had created, heading towards the prison.