115: Chapter 115 Goodbye Beirut!
Youlan Prefecture.
"Halt!"
A rough shout exploded.
Two prefecture guards clad in black standard-issue armor held their long spears horizontally, the tips pointing directly at Allen Dawson's throat.
These two prefecture guards had powerful auras; both were rare Six-Star Fiends in Hell.
If they were outside, they would be enough to establish a medium-sized bandit group, yet at this moment, they could only guard the gate here.
"State your name."
The guard on the left lifted his chin.
The look in his eyes as he gazed at Allen Dawson was like looking at a stray dog on the roadside.
This was the norm in Hell.
The Lord of Youlan Prefecture struck fear across the Bloodridge Continent.
When an unmarked stranger approached, they naturally wouldn't give a friendly face.
Allen Dawson stopped his steps.
He couldn't be bothered to waste words with these bottom-tier guard dogs.
"Go tell Lord Beirut."
"Allen Dawson has arrived."
The air suddenly turned deathly silent.
The two prefecture guards widened their eyes.
What did this brat say?
He actually dared to call the Lord of Youlan Prefecture by his name?
"You are courting death!"
The guard on the right was furious.
He gave his long spear a sudden shake.
The Divine Power of the Laws of Destruction erupted instantly, transforming into a black venomous snake that lunged at Allen Dawson's face.
Allen Dawson lowered his eyelids slightly, not even moving a finger.
Boom!
An extremely violent Divine Might erupted from within his body.
This was by no means ordinary Highgod Divine Might, but a terrifying aura belonging exclusively to a Peak Asura.
A red gale surged up from the flat ground.
The space within a thousand meters twisted violently.
The black venomous snake condensed from Divine Power instantly shattered into nothingness.
"Pfft—"
The two prefecture guards were struck as if by lightning.
Fresh blood sprayed wildly from their mouths.
Their kneecaps made a cracking sound, unable to bear the weight.
The two were forced to their knees on the obsidian floor by this aura.
The floor tiles cracked inch by inch.
Fear.
Uncontrollable fear gripped their hearts.
Where on earth did this monster come from?
Just by emitting his aura, he made them, two Six-Star Fiends, unable to even move a finger?
Rapid footsteps came from inside the castle gate.
A steward wearing silver robes ran out, covered in sweat.
He was a powerhouse at the Seven-Star Fiend level.
But at this moment, facing Allen Dawson's Divine Might, his legs were also trembling.
"My Lord, please calm your anger!"
The steward shouted from far away.
"The Lord of Youlan Prefecture invites you in."
"Please follow me, my Lord."
Allen Dawson withdrew his Divine Might.
The surrounding solidified air began to flow again.
The two prefecture guards collapsed on the ground, gasping violently, not daring to even look at Allen Dawson again.
"Lead the way."
Allen Dawson's tone was calm.
The steward wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
He quickly turned around, bowing his waist to lead the way in front.
This god of slaughter was too terrifying.
When did Youlan Prefecture produce such a figure?
Passing through layers of black corridors.
The walls on both sides were carved with intricate magic Formation patterns.
Allen Dawson silently observed these Formations.
As expected of a Sovereign's residence, the defenses were truly strict.
A moment later.
The steward stopped in front of a heavy, dark red door.
He respectfully pushed open the door and then stepped aside.
Allen Dawson stepped into the great hall.
The great hall was extremely spacious.
There were no superfluous decorations, only twelve thick stone pillars supporting the dome.
At the end of the hall, a wide black throne was placed.
Sitting on the throne was a thin, withered old man with a handlebar mustache, his small eyes rolling around.
It was the famous Lord of Youlan Prefecture, Beirut.
Or rather, Beirut's Darkness God Clone.
"Allen, kid."
Beirut held a purple fruit in his hand and took a bite.
"I haven't seen you for several hundred years, and your temper has grown."
"You even dare to smash the gate of my Youlan Prefecture."
Allen Dawson walked straight to the bottom of the throne.
He casually found a chair and sat down.
"I haven't stretched my muscles in several hundred years."
"I had to warm up."
Beirut swallowed the fruit flesh.
His gaze sized up Allen Dawson from top to bottom.
This kid's speed of strength improvement truly exceeded his expectations.
He had long heard of the title Skyfire Asura.
Being able to kill even an old-timer powerhouse like the Thunder Asura, he truly had some ability.
But this was not enough.
In Beirut's eyes, an ordinary Asura was not worth mentioning at all.
He was a Sovereign.
Even if this was just a God Clone, it was an invincible existence possessing 0.8 parts of Willpower.
Below Great Perfection, he, Beirut, did not put anyone in his eyes.
"You wouldn't come to my hall without a reason."
Beirut patted the fruit crumbs off his hands.
"Speak, what did you come to find me for?"
"Don't tell me you came to catch up."
Allen Dawson raised his head.
His gaze locked directly onto Beirut on the throne.
"Lord Beirut."
"I want to ask you for a favor, to fight me."
The great hall was eerily quiet for three seconds.
Beirut picked his ear, seemingly doubting he had heard correctly.
"What did you say?"
Beirut's mouth twitched.
"You want to fight me?"
"Kid, is your brain fried?"
Allen Dawson's expression was incomparably calm.
"I'm not joking."
"I need a real battle."
"A battle that can make me feel the threat of death."
Beirut laughed.
It was as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.
Did this kid think he was invincible just because he killed the Thunder Asura?
Truly ignorant of the height of the sky and the depth of the earth.
"Allen, I admit you are a Genius."
"But you know nothing about true power."
Beirut stroked his handlebar mustache.
This condescending posture.
This was the confidence brought by absolute strength.
Beirut didn't take Allen Dawson's challenge seriously at all.
In his view, this was just the arrogance of a young person.
Allen Dawson did not refute.
He just leaned slightly back against the chair.
He spat out a light sentence.
"My Fire God Clone has already fused 99 percent of the sixth Mystery of the Laws."
Plop.
The purple fruit Beirut had just picked up fell to the ground and rolled far away.
The old man jumped up from the throne abruptly.
His small eyes widened, staring fixedly at Allen Dawson below.
"You... what did you say?"
Beirut's voice changed pitch.
It was as sharp as a cat that had its tail stepped on.
Ninety-nine percent?
Five Mysteries perfectly fused, and the sixth about to reach Great Perfection?
How is this possible!
In Beirut's mind, a million thunderclaps seemed to resound.
He knew too well what Great Perfection meant.
In the entire countless planes, the number of Great Perfection powerhouses could be counted on two hands.
Which one wasn't an old monster who had cultivated for hundreds of millions of years?
How long had Allen Dawson cultivated?
At most, not even a thousand years!
In less than a thousand years, to walk to the threshold of Great Perfection?
This speed of cultivation could no longer be described as Genius.
This was a monster, a super freak who had broken the logic of the Universe's operation.
"Say that again?"
Beirut's figure instantly disappeared from the throne.
The next moment.
He appeared directly in front of Allen Dawson.
The tips of their noses were almost touching.
Allen Dawson's expression did not change.
He let the aura released by Beirut hit his face.
"Five Mysteries completely fused."
"The last bit of the Bottleneck has stuck me for over thirty years."
Beirut's figure instantly vanished from the throne.
The next moment, he appeared directly in front of Allen Dawson.
The tips of their noses were almost touching.
Allen's expression remained unchanged.
He let the aura released by Beirut wash over his face.
"Five Mysteries of the Laws are thoroughly fused."
"The final Bottleneck has had me stuck for over thirty years."
Beirut stroked his handlebar mustache.
This was a posture of looking down from above.
It was the confidence brought by absolute strength.
Beirut did not take Allen's challenge seriously at all.
In his view, this was nothing more than the arrogance of a young man.
"This kid thinks that just because he killed a Thunder Asura, he is invincible?"
"Truly ignorant of how big the world is."
Allen did not refute him.
He merely leaned back slightly against the chair.
He spat out a light, airy sentence.
"My Fire God Clone has already fused ninety-nine percent of the sixth Mystery of the Laws."
Plop.
A purple fruit Beirut had just picked up fell to the ground, rolling far away.
The old man jumped up from his throne with a start.
His small eyes were wide open, staring fixedly at Allen below.
"You... what did you say?"
Beirut's voice had changed pitch.
It was sharp, like a cat that had had its tail stepped on.
Ninety-nine percent?
Five Mysteries of the Laws perfectly fused, and the sixth about to reach Great Perfection?
How is this possible!
In Beirut's mind, it was as if millions of thunderclaps had resounded.
He knew too well what Great Perfection meant.
Across countless planes, the number of Great Perfection experts could be counted on two hands.
Which one of them wasn't an ancient monster who had cultivated for eons?
How long had Allen been cultivating?
At most, not even a thousand years!
To reach the threshold of Great Perfection in less than a thousand years?
This speed of cultivation could no longer be described as Genius.
This was a monster, a super freak who had broken the logic of the Universe's operation.
"Say that again?"