Round 6: The Battlefield of Hell

Neither side’s forces could be called organized in any sense—on the demon side, the lowest-ranking fear demons pushed forward, flanked by either voluntary or forced non-demon fodder; on the devil side, the lowest-ranking imp demons did the same, surrounded by voluntary or forced non-devil fodder. The two sides resembled two murky tides colliding violently.
Stephanie tried to retreat as much as possible, but it was impossible—higher demons roared from behind, urging them on. Flo, with its vulture-like head, even waved its claws to cast collective charm on the warriors around it, forcing them to charge fearlessly. Meanwhile, the fear demons, who occasionally remembered to use their own abilities, recklessly unleashed dark spells, fear spells, or stench clouds, plunging those around them into darkness where they couldn’t tell direction, or into panic as they screamed aimlessly until they were killed, or into agony as they were engulfed by toxic yellow-green clouds, vomiting and coughing… Absolute chaos.
In comparison, the devils seemed more organized. The imp demons rushed forward like a tide, ignoring any obstacles. They had no weapons, no armor, and not even the magical abilities of the fear demons, but they were fearless and thoughtless, with only one purpose: to tear apart anything in their path with their claws.
Minotaur Valerius no longer cared about Stephanie. He swung his flail, shattering anything that got too close—whether enemy or ally.
A blinding flash of lightning shot from Stephanie’s hand, hitting an imp demon that was almost upon him. It then seemed to leap like a living thing, spreading to several nearby creatures. The intense energy caused them to explode one after another, and the pervasive stench made Stephanie feel nauseous. She cast a lightning chain spell to clear a small area ahead, but more enemies rushed in, and this minor reprieve also attracted several fireballs. Stephanie fled in disarray, abandoning further attacks, hoping her protective spells would keep her alive until this damned battle ended…
Not this.
The metal man glanced at the heart in his hand and discarded it dissatisfiedly.
He couldn’t remember who he was or why he was here. All he knew was that he had lost something very important—he couldn’t recall where it was, perhaps because of the damage to his body, which had made him somewhat unstable.
I wander these burning lands, searching for what can make me whole…
I must get it, get her.
Why her?
The metal man was confused, but his movements were swift.
A devil in the shape of a giant insect rushed forward, its two compound eyes glowing with vicious yellow light. The fear it emitted made people back away.
The metal man sidestepped to avoid its first attack. Before it could adjust and charge again, he reached out, grabbed its hind legs, and threw it to the ground. Then he stepped on its waist, gripping one of its legs in each hand. The devil screamed in agony as its six sharp claws scratched desperately, but aside from leaving minor scratches on the metal man’s body, it achieved nothing.

A bone-chilling tearing sound came from his chest and abdomen. The Metal Man exerted force through his feet and pulled with his hands; this demon, which might have been able to move sideways in some places, was torn in half with screams and splashing bodily fluids. The Metal Man picked up the two severed halves and took a look. The demon’s lower body was spilling out internal organs in great quantities through the wound—unknown organs all. The Metal Man frowned—or thought he did, feeling he couldn’t find what he needed on it—and casually threw the two halves away. The main forces of both sides had now begun to fight. The demons threw blazing fireballs, as if it were a rain of fire in the air, while the demons chanted vile spells, creating large areas of darkness. Neither darkness nor fire had any effect on the Metal Man. He slaughtered, searched, immersed himself in thick smoke and raging flames, even feeling a slight comforting warmth—as he ripped out each enemy’s heart and stuffed it into his own chest, yet still felt empty. This angered him greatly. The battle finally ended not because one side had won or achieved some strategic goal, but because the fodder had been nearly exhausted. Stephanie hadn’t found Valer; he hadn’t returned. A battle-hardened minotaur had disappeared silently, without anyone noticing how—he died in battle? Fled? Captured? Unlikely; neither side was interested in prisoners. Perhaps that was the only fate for those who participated in such battles. But the succubus hadn’t gone missing, as she couldn’t escape without breaking Stephanie’s control spell. The moment she saw the succubus, Stephanie almost eagerly pulled her into an empty tent—there were many such tents after the battle—to relieve the mental stress that nearly drove her crazy. Soon, Stephanie fell into a deep sleep. The succubus stood upright, her crimson tongue flicking between her lips as she looked at the powerful mage beside her with a hint of disdain and triumph. Though his mental defenses were still strong, they had been breached by anger, fear, doubt, lust, and other instinctive emotions—something the succubus considered almost the same as collapse. This mage was no longer a threat. The succubus slipped out of the tent and stretched lazily, leaving the survivors in awe. In fact, if she wanted, she could easily join the ruling class of this camp—but she had once been a favorite of a Balor demon and didn’t want to go through that again. It was more interesting to freely tempt mortals. The succubus stood on tiptoes, a posture that fully displayed her curves and rhythm. She was used to using her feminine form to tempt others and had almost forgotten how to showcase male masculinity. She paid no attention to the greedy looks cast at her; she disdained these people. Surviving a battle didn’t mean they were strong—perhaps they were just lucky. As for whether luck would favor them in the long run, time would tell.

Some signal reached the succubus’s mind—those were the unique mental communication abilities among hellish creatures. Succubi could even use this ability to summon other demons for help, though it depended on their mood. Succubi had almost never used this ability, as it would put her in debt to the demons she summoned.

It was the voice of that little Quesemei, Pipi… Although the succubus didn’t feel anything special for her just because they were fellow prisoners—after all, talking about emotions among demons was nothing but a joke—she still decided to go check it out, as she suddenly developed an unusual interest in the tin man Pipi had mentioned.

Pipi had a gloomy expression, her cunning features tightly furrowed as she tried to think of a way to escape from this monster—she really shouldn’t have flown that close!

The metal man held one of Pipi’s wings, not with much force, casually as if a child were catching a dragonfly, but he completely controlled her life and death. He observed her with his demon-like red eyes, seemingly thinking she was too small to fit into the hole on his chest—which, to Pipi, looked like an insatiable maw. From the start of the battle, she had deliberately followed this tin man, believing that clinging to a stronger opponent was the best way to survive in a bloody fight. By now, since tearing apart the first demon, the tin man had stuffed nearly a hundred devils or demons’ hearts into that hole, crushing one after another and turning it into a mess of blood and flesh. Even his entire body now emitted a bloodstained scent identical to that of demons, yet the metal man showed no sign of stopping!