114 Chapter 114

"This is the first request from my friend in eight years so I hope you don't mind me taking it seriously." The boisterous laugh of Sairaorg Bael was nothing like the impression he had made on Damian eight years ago.

The descendent of the Great King had been a swirl of depression and sorrow yet not a trace of that could be seen in his strong eyes. There was no telling if that was because Valerie had cured his mother of her sleeping disease or because he had finally found a goal in life but it didn't matter either way.

Damian and he hadn't spoken much even eight years ago. They sat at the same table at many political events and their relationship was far from poor but it was good either. They were acquaintances at best. And, truth be told, that was exactly what Sairaorg needed.

At that point in his life, there was no way for him to have the desire to make friends and laugh with those his age. All he had on his mind was an unrelenting whispering in the back of his head threatening to corrupt him at all times.

"Friendships? What a foolish notion." Clicking his tongue in annoyance Sairorg's opponent, the Deity of Destruction Perses was unrelenting in his condemnation of his words. Perses was a master of destruction whether it be physical objects or intangible things such as bonds.

"They are pretty stupid at times. But I'd have them no other way." Laughing boisterously once more Sairoarg quickly ducked to the side at Perses' strike. The God's patience had run thin it seemed, his desire for destruction winning over his desire to converse.

Swinging his golden axe with enough force to shatter mountains Sairaorg was almost pleasantly surprised by what he saw. His weapon did not repel off harmlessly nor did it pierce his skin, the earth shattering weapon in his hands unable to break through the unbreakable shield that was the deity's flesh.

"I guess you don't want to talk much." Chuckling to himself Sairaorg sent more power into his strike, a drop of blood spilling from either side of his sharp blade. Perses wasn't a God of Destruction in the usual way, he took a different path to the same goal.

Perses was more of a calamity than destruction incarnate. The Greek god was a being of physical might so immense that the only thing he knew from birth till now was destruction. It was his strength that gave him his title rather than any divinity.

Leaping back to dodge the kick sent his way, Sairoarg pondered how exactly he was to win this battle swiftly. He had no doubts he would win, that was why he was sent here of all places anyway, but to do so quickly was a different thing altogether.

The only opponent of relative similarity was Riser Phenex but even that wasn't overly helpful to him. Perses couldn't regenerate nor was his undying, he was just so absurdly durable that even the weapon born from the Lion King's corpse could do nothing to it.

Clashing once again his axe met Perses' fist, their strengths even for a moment before Sairaorg was very quickly beginning to lose ground. Surrounding his body in the white glow of touki was all it took to make up for the difference but making ground was different.

Laughing like a madman, Perses' muscles swelled like a balloon, his arms doubling in size while the rest of his body remained the same. Flying backward Sairaorg only barely managed to catch himself before Perses came flying at him once more.

With his body in the shape of a right triangle at the moment there was little he could do to dodge so Sairaorg crossed his arms in front of his chest and braced for impact. The strike was powerful, the earth shattered for dozens of miles as bones flew into the sky.

"Not bad." Wiping away the blood from his split lip Sairaorg ignored the worry of his pawn for a moment, his mental request to that same pawn taking much more prominence. The acceptance he received was more than enough to kick start their comeback.

Charging forward at Perses despite the difference in strength Sairaorg began chanting, his Touki surging with each word as its color gradually shifted into a royal gold. By the time his fist was about to strike the palm of Perses a golden glove manifested on his body

"…!" Shooting back like a speeding train, Perses crashed into dozens of different mountains of bones before finally coming to a stop. Laying on his back for only a moment Perses had a look of extreme bewilderment in his eyes before realization followed by excitement took over.

"This seems more fitting." Even from so far away Perses could see and hear Sairaorg. The young devil was covered in crimson armor from head to toe, a lion's head atop his chest while golden Touki flowed from him without restraints. 

Touki was lifeforce and devils had plenty of it yet Sairaorg released so much from his ever pore that even a devil shouldn't be able to endure such a thing. The fact that he could with such ease meant one of two things. Sairaorg either had an unnaturally long lifespan or…

"You've trained your ass off!" Perses didn't need to see the overflowing Touki to realize something so basic, the powerful muscles of the young devil that nearly rivaled his own showed that enough. But it was still surprising how much Touki the newest Lion King had.

"I had to if I didn't want to fall behind." Sairaorg didn't have any grand reason for growing stronger. He didn't want equality like Sona nor did he want to spread joy like Rias. He didn't even have a hobby like Seekvaira. All he had was his competitive nature.

They were all monsters and he didn't want to fall behind. Even Damian who once lagged behind them had shot so far ahead that Sairaorg couldn't even see his back anymore. He was glad for his friends and their talent but the Lion King wouldn't fall behind. He would keep pace and surpass them if they released for even a moment.

That was his promise to himself. And he had no intention of breaking it even if a God demanded it. He would grow, adapt, and overcome until he could stand shoulder to shoulder with the boy that helped him out of his depression. That would be his repayment.

"Come at me, Lion King!" Shouting wildly, Perses charged at him like a bull, an eager smirk gracing Sairaorg's face.

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