The Doctor glanced at Constantine as he spoke, affirming the man's earlier suggestion.
The Cybermen's adaptability to energy attacks was simply too powerful. No one could say when they might suddenly complete an upgrade to counter magical energy.
Just as the best way to kill Cybermen with technology was to destroy them all in a single attack, this "upgrading" was the most terrifying aspect of the Cybermen.
Given enough time, Cybermen could gradually approach the concept of "perfection."
The Doctor temporarily shifted his hope for solving the Cybermen problem to direct soul attacks.
These Cybermen likely never considered the existence of a soul. After all, being obsessed with technology, they wouldn't go out of their way to pursue a concept like the "soul."
Although magic might simply be a completely different way of using energy, the Doctor currently had no time to analyze the nature of magic.
"Great Sorcerer Supreme, could I trouble you to send a Cyberman's head over?" Constantine stood up somewhat stiffly and shouted at the Ancient One.
It wasn't that he was deliberately moving in such a rigid manner, but rather that his motor control had declined after being shocked by the Cyberman earlier.
Although Constantine was bisexual, he hadn't developed that kind of bold idea regarding the metal-bodied Cybermen.
Flesh and blood colliding with metal? That was too horrific.
Constantine had heard the name Odin, but he didn't think he could make a "Great God" like that pay attention to him. Comparatively, the chances of the Sorcerer Supreme listening to him were higher.
The Ancient One casually tore off a Cyberman's head. Her hand flashed with cold light, and after four sharp snick sounds, she tossed the disassembled Cyberman over.
The Ancient One knew magic that targeted the soul, but the invasiveness of such magic on the body was not comparable to the minor skirmishes they were engaging in now.
Soul-type spells, in particular, required preparation time to cast.
The more bizarre the magic, the more preparation time it needed—much like those mysterious witch doctors who were always tinkering with strange items.
Unfortunately, the Ancient One didn't have time to prepare.
Although she and Odin could ensure the Cybermen couldn't break out of this perimeter, doing more than that was momentarily impossible.
The idea of charging through the spatial rift to wipe out all Cybermen remained just a thought. Bul-Kathos had already proven that passing through the rift didn't necessarily land you where the Cybermen were.
Moreover, neither Odin nor the Ancient One possessed infinite lives. Crossing the time rift was barely better than suicide.
It was well known that mages in this world generally had poor health, and Odin was so old he could barely control his daily increasing power.
Time, for them, was a lethal poison.
For instance, her future disciple, who would take the name Doctor Strange, would develop severe stomach issues from using magic.
In the original timeline, there were only three disciples capable of inheriting the position of Sorcerer Supreme, and all three were Doctors.
Doctor Doom, the physics and energy expert with a string of titles, Tony Stark, and the medical Doctor, Stephen Strange.
Perhaps the next step after 'Mage' was the title of 'Doctor.' From Master to Doctor—it made perfect sense.
The English word 'Master' also implies a Master's degree. For these highly educated individuals, getting their academic title wrong was a sign of great disrespect.
Especially for Stephen Strange, the surgeon; a Master's and a Doctorate were two completely different worlds.
The Ancient One shook these strange thoughts from her head and focused on the matter at hand.
To use a spell sufficient to extinguish the souls of all Cybermen, even the Ancient One had to consider the cost.
It would at least require confirmation that targeting the soul was a viable path before she would pay the price to unleash magic of that magnitude.
The power of the Dark Dimension no longer harmed the Ancient One's body, but magic itself still took a toll.
Even Agamotto, who had become one of the Vishanti, could not avoid this.
"Although I wanted to say just a head would be enough, this works too."
Constantine hugged the Cyberman's head and began drawing a magic circle on the ground. There was a world of difference between "harming the soul" and "only harming the soul."
At this moment, Constantine couldn't help but think of his old friend, the Hell Lord Nightmare!
For Nightmare, damaging only the soul was his area of expertise.
With the Dream Dimension as his backing, hurting the physical body was actually more troublesome for him.
Meanwhile, in Hell.
The glowing egg that was currently in the process of resurrection—Nightmare—was being frantically squeezed dry by Baal.
Cassius had turned and left after throwing that one punch. Baal, straining to remain undetected, was doing his utmost to suppress Nightmare from absorbing energy.
Cassius's fist had contained Fury. Nightmare, having been attacked, possessed an instinctive need to absorb energy to recover, which hadn't been restricted by the Fury because of Baal's interference.
If Cassius were to turn back and discover that Nightmare was showing signs of recovery after being hit by an attack infused with Fury, Baal's discovery would be a foregone conclusion.
Barbarians were never easy to deal with. Even Baal found this problem a headache.
Bul-Kathos's temporary departure hadn't been noticed by Baal, but even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered.
Imperius resurrecting in peak condition was not something that could be hidden from the Demon Lords. Even without Bul-Kathos sealing them, they wouldn't want to face Imperius without regaining their full strength.
Because that Archangel of Valor, in his prime, was like a honey badger. If you showed the slightest weakness, he would chase you to the ends of existence.
Imperius was absolutely capable of such honey-badger-like behavior.
Perhaps calling him the Archangel of Stubbornness would be more fitting; Imperius's obstinacy was on par with Tyrael's.
However, the situation wasn't too bad for Baal right now. He no longer had to share Hell's energy with that weakling, Nightmare.
Once those three Barbarians left Hell, he could absorb energy without scruples.
Baal might resurrect even faster than originally estimated!
When that time came, he just needed to avoid the short-legged Barbarians. Although Imperius was stronger than him, it wasn't to the point of being completely overwhelmed.
As the strongest of the Seven Evils in frontal combat, wasn't it always Baal who held off Imperius during the Eternal Conflict?
As for Diablo...
Who could expect the brain of Valor to understand the emotion of Fear?
If not for the massive energy Diablo possessed, he would have been pinned to the floor and pummeled by the Archangel long ago.
His essence was useless against the five Archangels; only against humans could Fear display its maximum effect.
The shrewdest among the Seven Evils was definitely not the arrogant Lord of Lies, Belial, nor the deeply scheming Lord of Sin, Azmodan.
It was Diablo—the one who disguised himself as a brute, yet orchestrated the tragedy of Leoric's family.
"I can't be wrong. There's definitely something disgusting in there."
Cassius's voice suddenly transmitted into Baal's consciousness, making him feel his very soul tremble.
If he were discovered now, he would have to flee while taking a beating.
With zero strength, Baal didn't even have the ability to outrun a Barbarian.
Cassius tugged at his braided beard, sounding distressed.
He had just gone to the place where Satan was waiting to resurrect and played a stress-relieving game of ball, yet he still hadn't found anything.
"Could it be that the one hiding here isn't Belial?"
Cassius spoke thoughtfully, then prepared to unleash a second loud mockery.
The Cursing-Dirty-Talk-Personal-Attack-Flow War Cry had already traveled with Cassius's deep breath to the back of his throat.
Baal was silently praying that Cassius wouldn't call out his name.
God knows why Cassius could achieve such a level, but his taunts—which functioned like cosmic laws—rendered anyone he named completely unable to suppress their rage.
"Diablo! I..."
Bang!
Cassius only managed to get out the first half of his roar before Madawc slapped him directly into the ground with an axe.
"Cassius, are you a moron?! Under these circumstances, how could those guys possibly be drawn out by your taunts?"
Madawc roared at Cassius, holding the blue half of Satanis's leg in his hand.
"You taunted that idiot Belial earlier; did he release his aura? Are you underestimating the patience of the Demon Lords? Or does Andariel, that brainless wretch, getting provoked every time make you think all Demon Lords are idiots?"
As Madawc got worked up, he swung the half-Satanis around, smashing it against the crimson, scorching ground of Hell with loud thud-thud sounds.
"Cassius, although we are younger than you, we haven't fought any fewer Demon Lords. The Demon Lords never reveal their emotions easily."
Korlic walked over carrying the red half of Satanis. Hanging from the weapon on his shoulder was the body of Mephisto, making him look like a fisherman returning home with a big catch.
"I remember back then, even though Baal bypassed us, his conspiracy still succeeded. Truly a terrifying Demon Lord," Madawc said with a tone of reminiscence.
"Indeed. The most terrifying thing about a Demon Lord isn't their power, but those omnipresent schemes and calculations! Think of Leah; from the moment she was born, she carried Diablo's aura. Capable of planning such a terrible conspiracy, how could a Demon Lord be easily provoked by you?"
Korlic threw Mephisto onto the ground and pressed his axe against the head of the inhuman Demon Lord.
"Right now, they are in the dark, and we are in the light. They won't lose their composure and expose themselves."
Madawc patted Cassius on the shoulder, looking heavy-hearted.
The heavy-heartedness was genuine; he was truly worried about the calamity the Demon Lords would cause upon their resurrection.
All the Barbarians were worried about this.
Baal, listening quietly, retracted his aura even more diligently. Listening to Madawc and Korlic describe the powerful and terrifying nature of the Demon Lords, his heart didn't waver in the slightest.
I'm so sorry that as a Demon Lord, I would have been enraged by Cassius's taunt!
Thank you for stopping that bastard from continuing the roll call!
If there is a chance, I will definitely do as you said—use conspiracies to bring you infinite fear, satisfying your expectations of me!
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