Ashton stood in the midst of the Netherworld, his eyes surveying the two Demon Emperors and the Demon King before him. They towered over him, their twisted, demonic features a testament to the Ancient Demon’s corruptive power.

Ashton could sense the immense strength radiating off his foes, and he knew this would be no easy fight. The demons were blessed by the power of the Ancient Demons, making them incredibly strong but also completely insane. They would fight without reason or mercy, driven only by their insatiable bloodlust.

Taking a deep breath, Ashton steadied himself and raised his staff, readying himself for battle. The air around him crackled with magic as he began to chant an incantation, his voice low and steady.

The demons charged towards him, their claws and fangs bared, but Ashton stood his ground, the power of his magic shielding him from their attacks. He fought back with equal ferocity, his spells hitting their mark with deadly precision.

The battle raged on for what felt like an eternity. Ashton was locked in a deadly dance with his demonic foes, each move calculated and precise. He knew he couldn’t let up for even a moment, lest he is caught off guard and slain.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ashton stood victorious. The demons lay at his feet, their twisted forms still smoking from the sheer force of his magic.

Ashton let out a sigh of relief, his body aching from the exertion of the fight. He knew that he couldn’t rest for long, however. There were always more demons lurking in the Netherworld, waiting for their chance to strike.

Ashton felt the last of the demon’s energy fading away, and he relaxed, thinking the battle was won. But suddenly, a dark energy swirled around him, and he felt a tug at his soul.

“What’s happening?” Ashton cried out, struggling against the unseen force that held him in place.

The demons’ laughter echoed in his mind, and then he heard their words, “You thought you could defeat us so easily, Archfey? We will not be so easily vanquished. We curse you to remain here in the Netherworld, never to return to Elstar!”

Ashton felt a cold dread settle in the pit of his stomach. He was trapped, cursed to remain in this dark realm forever. The demons were gone, their twisted forms fading away into nothingness, but their curse lingered, binding him to this place.

Ashton struggled against the invisible chains that held him, but they were too strong, and he felt his strength ebbing away. He fell to his knees, his eyes scanning the bleak landscape around him.

The Netherworld was a desolate place, a twisted reflection of the world he knew. There was no sun here, no stars, only endless, suffocating darkness. The air was thick with the stench of decay, and the ground beneath his feet felt like it was slowly swallowing him up.

Ashton realized that he was truly alone here, with no hope of escape. The curse was too powerful, too binding. He would never see his home again.

With a heavy heart, Ashton closed his eyes and whispered a prayer to the gods, hoping against hope that they would hear him and somehow free him from this terrible fate. But there was no answer, only the emptiness of the Netherworld, mocking him with its silence.

But it didn’t end there…

“Shit!”

From wherever it was coming from, Ashton saw a literal rain of projectiles heading his way. He hurriedly erected a barrier to surround and protect himself with.

Ashton felt himself being bombarded by a seemingly endless rain of projectiles, each one striking him with deadly force. He didn’t know where they were coming from, but he knew he had to defend himself or risk being killed.

He raised his staff, calling forth a stronger shield of magic to protect himself. But the projectiles kept coming, tearing through his defenses and striking him from all sides.

Ashton felt a growing sense of panic as he realized the citizens of this world wanted him dead. He had no idea what he had done to earn their ire, but it was clear they would stop at nothing to see him destroyed.

He tried to reason with them, calling out for them to stop their attack, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the projectiles raining down upon him.

Ashton was cornered, with no escape from this relentless assault. He knew he had to act fast, or he would be overwhelmed and killed.

Summoning his magic, Ashton unleashed a powerful blast that cleared a path through the projectiles, giving him a chance to escape. He ran as fast as he could, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for a way out of this deadly trap.

But no matter where he turned, there was no escape. The projectiles followed him relentlessly, their aim true and their force unrelenting.

Ashton knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. He was running low on energy, and the constant barrage of projectiles was taking its toll. He needed to find a way to end this, or he would be killed.

…or at least, that’s what it appears on the surface.

‘Goodness gracious!’ He exclaimed to himself, ‘I guess they really want me dead, huh?’

Ashton couldn’t help but smile as he watched the projectiles rain down on his illusion. He had known from the beginning that his enemies would try something like this, and he had been prepared for it. Casting the illusion had been part of his plan all along.

He knew that those abominations were up to something. He could tell that from the moment they confronted him and he was ready for it.

It’s funny how they all thought that a mere binding curse would affect him when he literally displayed how skillful he was at magic. It seems that their desire to kill him muddled their brains and their reason, causing them to forget some important details about him.

This illusion that he made isn’t anything ordinary either. It was made using his true specialty – Dream Magic/Laws.

To those who were watching behind the scenes, it would look as if their plans worked – that they managed to push him into a desperate situation. In reality though? Ashton was perfectly safe and sound.

The projectiles rained down on nothing. They dug a deep hole into the netherworld and the audience thinks that Ashton was included in there but no, far from it actually.

As the projectiles continued to rain down on his decoy, Ashton concentrated, tracking their trajectory to figure out where they were coming from. He could feel the magic pulsing in the air, and he knew that his enemies were close.

Keeping himself hidden, Ashton began to move through the Netherworld, his senses on high alert. He could hear the demons moving around him, their voices raised in excitement as they thought they were getting the better of him.

It’s funny to see them this way. This is one of the reasons why he liked his Dream Magic/Laws. Using them makes him seem like a prankster. Things never get boring whenever he’s playing with his enemies.

Finally, he spotted his enemies. They were a group of demon mages, their faces twisted in anger as they hurled spells at his illusion. Ashton watched them for a moment, studying their movements, before he began to weave a spell of his own.

‘I already made an elaborate Dream for those who were watching. Eliminating these things shouldn’t have any side effects.’ He mused to himself.

The magic crackled around him as he focused, drawing on the power of Aether within him. He could feel the energy pulsing through his veins, and he knew that this was his moment.

With a shout, Ashton unleashed the spell, a wave of magic crashing into his enemies. They staggered back, surprised by the sudden attack, and Ashton took advantage of their moment of confusion to strike.

His own spells rained down on his enemies, their power fueled by his determination and focus. The demons were no match for him, and they fell one by one, their bodies crumbling to ash as he struck them down.

Their death spelled the end for the rain of projectiles. But since his audience was still captivated by the dream he made for them, in their eyes, he was still suffering.

As the Dream continues, so was Ashton’s duty.

He thought that, since he was already here and got everyone distracted, he might as well detach a couple more of their outposts.

Ashton bolstered the dream to warp the audiences’ perception of time. Then he began searching for pins to remove.

He found one nearby and he detached it, causing that piece of the Netherworld to disappear permanently from Elstar. Usually, doing this causes a commotion but since his audience was mesmerized by his dream, they didn’t do anything to stop him.

Ashton then detached a total of five outposts from Elstar before deciding to call it quits for today.

Before he left, he manipulated the dream to show a scene where he miraculously come back to life and forcefully left the Netherworld, flipping off the audience right before he disappeared.

Ashton chuckled in mischievousness as he returned to Elstar unharmed.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep