There was a strange lake in the First Layer of Hell, made not of liquid but of light. Floating above it was a towering crimson figure, seemingly forged from living radiance and sharpened flesh. His elongated body was plated with jagged, armor-like growths that glowed from within.
A single immense eye crowned his head, set within a fractured halo. Pale currents of crimson light spiraled around him, bending in obedience, as if illumination itself recognized his authority.
He was Devil Lord Fulgarion.
Coldness filled his eye as he saw that not even light could escape the God Prison. He then turned his gaze toward the Viking woman walking forward.
"I assume that killing you will set me free."
Freya did not utter a single word. She tightened her grip around her sword and shield as her killing intent exploded outward, golden light flowing across her figure.
The lake of light became solid beneath their feet as they walked toward each other.
Fulgarion moved first.
He did not charge.
