Could it be that Mephisto was trying to shift trouble elsewhere?
No, Mephisto wasn't that foolish.
Leon's suspicions were confirmed with Mephisto's next words.
"In the limbo of Hell," Mephisto began, "there's a ruler named Belasco. He's a dark wizard, and within Limbo, his power rivals that of any Heavenly Father—even me."
Leon regarded him with a sly smile. "So, you've considered this Limbo before?"
Mephisto nodded, sighing helplessly. "Anyone who discovers that place covets it. But everyone—myself included—has been repelled by Belasco. If he truly intends to fight, the consequences are too dire for anyone to bear."
In his domain, Belasco could match any intruder blow for blow, and if pushed, he would take them down with him. Mephisto, ever cautious, had no intention of testing those limits.
But Leon was different. Mephisto had witnessed his unsettling ability to sever the blessings of domains entirely. If Leon desired, he could likely claim Limbo for himself.
There was no denying it—Mephisto had grown wary of Leon.
Though Leon was young, barely in his twenties, his power had already eclipsed Mephisto's in certain ways. The demon lord couldn't shake the belief that, given time, Leon would ascend to heights even he couldn't reach.
As one skilled in survival, Mephisto understood his best course of action. Why provoke a being of such immense potential? Better to secure a favorable relationship now. Retaliation wasn't in the cards. Instead, Mephisto welcomed the idea of aligning with Leon, however humiliating it might seem.
"Thank you for the warning," Leon said after a thoughtful pause. He smiled, but it was laced with ambiguity. "I believe we'll make excellent friends."
With that, Leon's form dissolved into shimmering golden particles, leaving Hell behind.
As the oppressive atmosphere lifted, Mephisto felt his connection to his domain restored. His wounds began to heal, the ambient power of Hell seeping back into him.
Hovering midair, Mephisto chuckled to himself. "Heh, I might've taken a beating, but I recognized a diamond about to shine. Gaining his goodwill? Not a loss—quite the opposite."
Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he vanished, his pleased laughter echoing in the empty space.
Asgard's Grand Arena
The duel arena of Asgard stood vast and imposing, a testament to its ancient traditions. The circular platform spanned tens of thousands of meters, encased by towering walls and tiered seating capable of holding hundreds of thousands. At its apex, the grand main platform offered a perfect vantage point for honored guests.
Today, the arena was abuzz with excitement. News of a duel between Thor and the formidable Midgardian warrior Sumarokov had spread like wildfire. Asgardians, young and old, flocked to the arena, their anticipation palpable.
Even the gods of the Aesir had gathered, curious to witness the clash. Among them was Frigga, who arrived with Natasha, Wanda, Sergei, and others, claiming seats of honor.
Frigga's presence surprised many, but the queen was eager to witness the rare spectacle. Her radiant smile revealed her amusement as she turned to Wanda and Natasha.
"I haven't seen such enthusiasm in centuries," she said warmly.
The Asgardian soldiers tasked with guarding the event weren't as fortunate. They could only hear the deafening roars and cheers from their posts, their duty barring them from the spectacle. Even Heimdall, the ever-vigilant guardian of the Bifrost, relied on his all-seeing gaze to catch glimpses of the action.
Roars erupted as Thor and Sumarokov stepped into the arena, both bare-chested and brimming with power.
Thunder flickered in Thor's eyes, while Sumarokov's pupils glowed blood red, his aura radiating an overwhelming dominance.
The crowd's energy was electric. Families cheered, lovers waved, and warriors roared encouragement.
Frigga leaned toward Wanda, who watched the chaos with a mix of curiosity and bemusement. "Do you enjoy battles like these?" the young witch asked.
Frigga chuckled, patting Wanda's head gently. "Don't forget, I am an Asgardian," she replied. "When I was young, few warriors could best me in combat."
The revelation surprised Wanda. Frigga's serene demeanor and nurturing aura seemed at odds with the image of a fierce warrior.
"Asgardians thrive on strength," Frigga continued. "I was no exception. It's in our blood."
Wanda chuckled, almost fooled by the queen's gentle exterior.
Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Thor and Sumarokov stood less than a hundred meters apart. The arena fell into a tense silence as the two giants faced off.
Thor spoke first, his voice resonant and steady. "Brother, let us savor this battle tonight."
Sumarokov grinned boldly, his voice booming. "Show me the God of Thunder!"
Boom!
A thunderous roar signaled the start of their clash, shaking the arena to its core.