Shen Ji and Xiongshou did not think Mammon's methods were impossible. As apex figures of the Human Alliance, they were not so naïve.
Winner is king, loser a corpse.
Though there were limits, at critical moments anything was justified. Yet, this was no ordinary foe—it was an epic Light Singer. Asmit was not only a being of power, but a devout servant of the Goddess, one who had already embraced sacrifice and enlightenment.
Mammon's gamble was reckless. The risk was staggering. If Asmit chose to abandon Ekbert, then in the face of this epic's wrath, they would all be annihilated.
That was the difference. Shen Ji and Xiongshou lacked Mammon's terrifying confidence. He could wager everything, because even if the gamble failed, he had ways to retreat. They could not.
Even so, Shen Ji's gaze flicked toward Asmit's cold expression. For now… Mammon was right.
"Vile creature! Do you think I will not strike?"
Asmit's voice sharpened, his eyes filled with undisguised killing intent. His hands glowed, the holy light gathering at his palms.
Mammon only sneered. "Try it. Let's see—are your attacks faster, or my hand?"
The air froze. The battlefield brimmed with the scent of gunpowder, suffocating in its intensity.
At last, Asmit let out a cold laugh. "You want my treasures, greedy fiend? Then I'll give you a choice."
He slipped the ruby ring from his finger—his storage ring, brimming with divine relics.
"But hear this: God will never forgive those consumed by desire."
Instead of tossing it toward the Death Scythe Demon as demanded, Asmit thrust out his right hand. White brilliance flared, and two vast pillars of holy light crashed down upon Shen Ji and Xiongshou.
Their faces paled.
"Five-Rays Slash!""Giant Shockwave!"
Their blades and fists clashed against the falling pillars. But the gap in strength was too vast. The weightless light pressed down like a mountain, crushing them to their knees, blood spraying from their lips.
Mammon chuckled darkly. "Oh? So now you threaten them to bargain with me?"
Asmit withdrew his hand, face calm, eyes cold. "Since you use Teacher Ek as a hostage, why cannot I?"
Mammon's grin widened, sharp and mocking. "The Light God Realm, beacon of mercy and justice—resorting to villainy? How ironic."
"Mercy is for those who seek the light," Asmit's reply was colder than steel. "Creatures like you, who have fallen into darkness, are no longer worthy of salvation."
It was true—normally he would never use such ruthless means. But Mammon's vile actions had sickened even him. For Ekbert's sake, for the Goddess' sake, he had no choice.
Mammon only shrugged. "Unfortunately, Lord Singer, those two aren't important to me. Do as you please."
He did not even glance at Shen Ji and Xiongshou, whose faces darkened with fury and shame.
"Now then," Mammon's voice sharpened, "enough delays. Hand me the ring."
The flesh monster's jaws tightened. Ekbert let out a low groan, pain etched deep into his trembling body.
Asmit's brows drew together. He had expected Mammon's ruthlessness, but such utter disregard for comrades chilled even him.
With a cold snort, he flicked his wrist. The storage ring flew—directly toward the Death Scythe Demon, not Mammon himself.
Mammon's smile deepened. Of course Asmit would never risk throwing it to him directly. That was why he had demanded it be given to his subordinate. The Singer was cautious, but Mammon was more cautious still.
The Death Scythe Demon caught the ring, flashing back to Mammon's side.
"Your turn," Asmit's voice cut coldly. "Release Teacher Ek. Do not test my patience further."
Mammon's blood-red eyes gleamed as he took the ring, his smile widening when he felt its weight.
"As expected of an epic Singer. A truly rich collection…"
He pocketed it without hesitation. Then, keeping his word, the flesh monster hurled Ekbert toward Asmit.
At the same time, Mammon extended his hand toward Naruto. It was enough. He had already flooded Ekbert with ghost blood. Whatever Asmit discovered, it would be too late. Their escape was assured.
"Teacher Ek! Are you alright?"
Asmit's soft light cradled Ekbert gently, lowering him to the ground. His voice, for the first time, trembled.
But his expression froze. Ekbert's body shuddered, his skin crawling with eerie cyan lines. His curled form trembled in agony, his face contorted in a grotesque mask.
"You…" Asmit's voice cracked, rage boiling beneath the calm. "You filthy creature—what have you done to him?"
His light surged, flooding Ekbert's wounds—but no matter how he tried, the corruption could not be healed.
Then—
A violent surge of black magic tore through the air.
Asmit's head snapped up, eyes widening. The aura came from the temple.
"The Sacred Stone—!"