Becoming the Demon Lord: Taming the Demon Queen Begins

"Is this... really the power of the Transcendence Realm?"

Belladonna looked up at the sky, her face showing a fear she had never felt before.

A massive golden hand loomed above, almost completely covering the sky.
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Compared to it, the seven of them—even with the combined power of the seven Sacredfire Mountains—seemed utterly insignificant.

"Is that a Sacred Form?"

"No... there's something else in that Sacred Form, a power connected to him!"

Belladonna poured every ounce of her strength into the sword aimed at the sky.

The sword's light flared, stronger than anything they had ever managed to unleash together before.

But the more they pushed their limits, the more the seven of them realized just how small they were in comparison to that overwhelming force.

The golden hand descended, blotting out the sky. In contrast, the sword energy they had gathered with all their might seemed pitifully weak.

In just an instant, the sword energy came to a complete halt.

It was like trying to move an immovable mountain—utterly futile.

"This is bad!"

Fear flashed across Belladonna's face.

She knew all too well what would happen when that hand came crashing down.

Not only would they be obliterated, but even the entire Sacredfire Mountain would be wiped off the map!

Her gaze flickered to the six other Ebon Goddesses beside her, and a cold, resolute look appeared in her eyes.

Raising her hand again, a crimson pattern began to spread across her palm.

No one noticed that even her eyes had taken on a strange, eerie red hue.

That chilling red color was disturbingly similar to the aura of the Dragon Blood Formation—the very force that had plunged the Sepulcher of the Sacred on the continent of Elant into chaos!

A streak of blood-red light suddenly appeared on the sword energy.

In an instant, its power surged to unimaginable levels.

Waves of blood-red energy rippled outward, filling the air with a nauseating stench.

"Belladonna, what are you doing?!"

But as the sword's power grew, Thalassa and the other Ebon Goddesses' expressions changed dramatically.

To their horror, they realized that strange red patterns were spreading from their palms at an alarming speed.

In the blink of an eye, the patterns had consumed their arms and were rapidly crawling up their bodies, toward their necks and heads.

Wherever the blood-red lines passed, they felt their strength being drained away.

Their skin shriveled, their flesh withered, and even their life force was visibly slipping away.

Their spiritual energy, their cultivation, their youth, and their very lives were being sucked dry!

"You!"

Thalassa glared at Belladonna, but even her voice had become frail and withered.

It was only then that they realized—Belladonna was draining their life force to fuel the sword energy that had been formed by the combined power of the seven of them!

The other Ebon Goddesses were terrified. They had trusted her completely.

They had willingly pooled their strength into Belladonna's hands, letting her take control.

But they never imagined that, in order to survive, Belladonna would sacrifice their lives without hesitation!

The six of them struggled desperately to resist.

But the blood-red patterns had already grown too strong after feeding on their power.

As Ebon Goddesses, they all knew exactly what this forbidden blood formation was—an ancient, sinister ritual that no one outside their circle even knew existed, and one that wielded terrifying power.

They had lost all ability to resist the blood formation.

Thalassa, her voice now weak and filled with pleading, begged, "Belladonna, please... don't do this!"

The six of them, too weak to even stand, collapsed to their knees, clinging to the last remnants of their strength, begging for mercy.

"I'm sorry, but if only one of us can survive, then I choose myself."

Belladonna's face twisted with a crazed, manic expression.

Not only did she ignore their pleas, but she intensified the blood formation, draining their life force even faster.

She wanted to live, but she knew she couldn't defeat Timothy on her own.

So, she resorted to the only option left.

As long as she sacrificed their lives and harnessed the power of all seven of them, she was sure she could win!

"The Nether King... I have to return to him. When he emerges from seclusion, I cannot die here!"

Even Belladonna's smile had a touch of madness.

A surge of blood-red energy erupted from the six Ebon Goddesses, flowing into the sword energy in the sky.

Moments ago, the six of them had stood tall and proud, but now they lay collapsed on the ground.

Their once jet-black hair had turned stark white, and their skin aged rapidly, wrinkling and cracking like dry parchment.

The faces that had once been youthful and beautiful were now withered, resembling old women on the brink of death.

Their eyes were filled with hatred and despair, but it was all in vain.

The sword, now infused with the blood of the six, glowed with an intense crimson light.

On the surface of the blade, countless skeletal faces appeared, their hollow eyes screaming in agony.

They howled and wailed, desperately trying to break free, but it was futile.

The air was filled with their piercing cries, and the sword radiated a dark, forbidden power.

For a moment, hope flickered in Belladonna's eyes as she gazed at the sword aimed at the heavens.

"Maybe..."

But in the blink of an eye, that hope was utterly crushed.

The massive golden hand descended, and the sword—despite its terrifying, forbidden power—had no effect at all.

It was like an ant beneath a boot, or a ghost exposed to sunlight—completely powerless.

"Boom!"

The blood sword disintegrated like smoke, vanishing into the air. The golden hand continued its descent, not even pausing for a moment.

"Nether King! Please, save me!" Belladonna's eyes filled with frantic desperation.

But her cries were met with silence.

The only thing she could feel was the overwhelming pressure, as if the entire world was about to crush her.

It was suffocating, terrifying beyond words.

Finally, despair consumed her completely. "Damn you! All of the Netherworld should belong to chaos! Even if you kill us, when the Nether King returns, your death is certain!"

"Boom!"

The golden hand came down, and her voice was abruptly cut off.

Timothy withdrew his hand, the light in his eyes slowly fading back to calm.

But beneath him, the vast land was marked by a massive handprint.

The once-mighty Sacredfire Mountain had been completely flattened with a single strike.