Bul-Kathos was troubled. Inside his head, Azmodan was chatting with Andariel. This bizarre sensation made him ponder what to do.
Resurrect Leoric!
He's a lunatic!
But the Prime Evils are really annoying!
Forget it, Leoric might not want such a resurrection. Let the poor guy rest.
Two opposing thoughts constantly clashed in Bul-Kathos's mind.
"Bul-Kathos, greetings."
Odin looked at Bul-Kathos's strange expression, and his own expression turned strange. To break the awkward atmosphere, Odin had to speak first.
"Odin? I thought you'd come a bit later."
Bul-Kathos looked up. "By the way, how did you handle your hammer son?"
Faced with such a piercing question, Odin's face turned colorful.
"I came to learn more about the Prime Evils," Odin said, clearly embarrassed. He couldn't exactly say he had thrown his hammer-son into the mortal world, where he was currently being observed and studied by a group of humans.
"Prime Evils? Weren't you at the scene before? Did something happen that I don't know about?" Bul-Kathos asked, perplexed.
At the mention of this topic, even Azmodan and Andariel in the Black Soulstone stopped chatting, quietly waiting for what Odin would say next.
"My daughter was taken by a Prime Evil from her prison."
"What does that have to do with me? I didn't tell him to do it."
Bul-Kathos was still immersed in the question of whether to resurrect Leoric and didn't feel he had said anything wrong. But inside the Black Soulstone, Azmodan laughed out loud, followed immediately by Andariel's mockery.
Bul-Kathos, I still can't understand why the Barbarians would make you the next Immortal King. Is it because you are too barbaric?
Because of Andariel's taunt, Bul-Kathos's face turned green.
"Alright, I think I understand what you mean. I'll help you find your daughter. But why did you lock her up?" Bul-Kathos asked grumpily.
"No, I am not asking you to help find my daughter. I want to say that she is a massive threat to this world," Odin said helplessly. He had a headache dealing with Bul-Kathos's crudeness. "That Prime Evil also killed one of my sons."
Odin decided to clarify everything quickly, lest he hear more embarrassing words from Bul-Kathos.
"My son possessed powerful immortality, yet he was still killed."
"Immortality? How did he get it? Magic or bloodline?"
Bul-Kathos was slightly interested in this topic. Based on his understanding of the Prime Evils, immortality sometimes only meant more torture. Thinking of this, he felt sadness for Odin.
"Magic. An ancient blessing. Nothing could harm my son except mistletoe."
Odin hesitated. He still couldn't understand how Baldur had been killed. Although he had greatly overestimated the power of the Prime Evils, he still couldn't figure out how they achieved it. Baldur's immortality was extremely potent; even Death itself would not find it easy to take Baldur's life. He had read this in the book recording that magic, which was why he had sent Baldur to guard Hela.
"Are you sure that was a blessing and not a curse? Or rather, was your son willing to accept this protection?"
Bul-Kathos keenly sensed the problem. For a person, immortality imposed by external forces was rarely a blessing; sometimes, being undying was more like a curse. Especially when that undying person met torture.
If the Prime Evil Baldur met was Duriel, he would likely have been treated as an amusing toy to be tortured repeatedly. But if it was a curse, then more than half of the Prime Evils could solve it. A curse is inherently a negative emotion; to a Prime Evil, a curse might just be a flavorful supplement.
"Fine. It was a curse."
Odin's face became even uglier. When Baldur gained immortality, he also lost much, such as the sensation of pain. More specifically, he lost sensation entirely.
"Understood. Probably Mephisto's work," Bul-Kathos said, scratching his beard.
He desperately wanted to empty his mind right now. After Mephisto escaped him earlier, he had sulked for a long time. When Dracula told him Mephisto hadn't left, he had roamed the city trying to find him.
And it turned out Mephisto had gone to Asgard in such a short time?
"Dracula clearly didn't tell me everything," Bul-Kathos mumbled.
Odin watched Bul-Kathos, sweat forming on his forehead.
"So tell me, do you want a living daughter, or do you want to hack her to death along with Mephisto?"
Bul-Kathos stood up, crushing a clay jar in his hand as he shouted the question.
The Prime Evils wouldn't hide forever; they would constantly stir up trouble for power. Mephisto was whatever; eventually, he'd just hack him to death and stuff him into the Black Soulstone. Against one or two Prime Evils in a head-on collision, they wouldn't even make a splash against Bul-Kathos.
It was just dealing with their conspiracies that was troublesome.
"I am the God of Fear! I am Fear itself!"
In a place no one could find, Cul roared at the entity before him.
But the figure in front of him just laughed rampantly.
In his rare state of wakefulness, the first thing Cul saw was this figure, and he couldn't look away. He could only roar, fierce of mien but faint of heart, to mask his insecurity.
"You are Fear itself? Then who am I?"
As the figure spoke, it revealed its true form!
A body covered in sharp bone spikes, skin a mix of crimson and darkness. The color of blood and the fear that devours all things flowed across his body!
Diablo!
The Lord of Terror!
Among the seven Great Evils, his individual power was second only to the Lord of Destruction, Baal. Before his last defeat, having briefly possessed the power of all seven Evils, Diablo had likely surpassed Baal.
He, who had once been the Prime Evil, was the true incarnation of the rule of Fear!
Even though he had not yet recovered his full power, in front of Cul, Diablo showed not a shred of apprehension.
If Cul were still in his state before becoming the All-Father, Diablo would not have arrogantly appeared before him in this weakened form. But the current Cul had long since become a slave to fear!
God of Fear? Just a piece of trash trying to pry at the authority of Terror!
When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you!
Cul, the God of Fear, had lost the vast majority of his selfhood to fear long ago. Even his power had been assimilated by fear. It was precisely because of fear that he acted so brutal and heartless.
"Who are you!"
Cul roared at Diablo, but Diablo simply stood there with a terrifying smile.
There was disbelief in Cul's voice, but mostly, there was panic!
After occupying Leah's body, Diablo was no longer the massive, bulky figure of the past. His current body was slender and grotesque, possessing a strange, soft aesthetic.
Diablo was incredibly excited!
He hadn't expected that after escaping Malthael's binding, he would retain enough power to avoid falling into slumber. Nor did he expect that upon arriving in a new world, he would immediately find the perfect food!
"Now, become my sustenance! Become my cover! Become... my best disguise before my revenge!"
Diablo roared wantonly, then extended his arm and pressed it against Cul's face.
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