Almodea managed to avoid another of the Masked Beast's blows, but Des Gorgitus's claws struck her in the left side. She fell to the ground, just a few meters from the monsters.

  "If you beg for mercy, maybe I can spare you! Or give you a quick death..."

  Desmond commented, extremely confident of his victory, given the presence of the two beasts on his side.

  Almodea, for her part, stood up and glared at him, filled with hatred and disgust. She hadn't suffered any serious damage from the two monsters' attacks, but she was getting tired of playing; now she was going to get serious—for real.

  "Don't get too big for your boots, human! You're the one who'll have to beg for mercy here!"

  "You insolent little thing, I-"

  "- Almodea! Stop holding back! It's time to show what true terror is!"

  The phrase echoed through the area, with an unnatural echo, so much so that Desmond thought it was the work of a spell. He would have been surprised to know it had been a simple shout from the knight.

  "Yes..."

  Almodea, on the other hand, smiled and started laughing, oozing sadistic happiness from every pore.

  "Yes, Dad! I won't let you down! Now I know I can go all out!"

  She fixed her eyes on the human in front of her, who was no longer an opponent– he was her prey.

  “Hey, Desmond! Just know that the time for games is over! Now I'm getting serious!”

  "Huh?!"

  The man was stunned. She couldn't be serious, right? That girl had held her own against his most powerful monsters, and to her it had all been a game? A mere joke? She wasn't serious- she couldn't be.

  "Damn you..."

  Even though Desmond was too hesitant to give an order, the beasts charged anyway. Almodea easily parried Des Gorgitus's clawed hand. She grabbed the beast by the arm and lifted it as if he weighed nothing, then hurled it at the Masked Beast, knocking them both to the ground. Two large monsters, thought to be legendary, had been knocked down by a girl, like they were two drunken, thuggish idiots.

  "How do you exude so much power without the use of Battle Arts or any skill whatsoever? What are you?!"

  "For the hundredth time: I'm a demoness!"

  Almodea roared.

  “But not just any demon! I am the daughter of the most powerful demon in existence! Humans, Monsters, Gods—no matter who compares themselves to him, none can surpass my father! And I am his offspring, blood of his blood, ink of his ink! A little drop of his Absoluteness!”

  "Y-You're crazy! Des Gorgitus! Stop her madness!"

  Des Gorgitus obeyed Desmond's trembling words, lunging at Almodea. It opened its clawed hand, preparing to slash her to pieces with a single blow.

  "Pathetic…"

  The thud of Des Gorgitus's hand on the brick floor was heard even by the guards arriving at the entrance. No human being would survive that blow.

  The fight was over…

  "Ah! You finally shut her up!"

  Desmond smiled; he had won after all.

  However, the celebrations were very short-lived. When Des Gorgitus raised its palm from the ground, the man could see that Almodea was no longer there; no body, no corpse.

  "She disappeared! How?! Did she escape before the impact?"

  "Nice book..."

  Desmond's heart skipped a beat when he heard that voice behind him. It was Almodea's cold, contemptuous voice.

  No! Impossible! How did she do it?

  Desmond kept repeating in his head as he turned and stared in horror at what he saw. Behind him was her, the figure of Almodea—alive and well—standing there like nothing happened.

  It was then that he noticed how tall she was; Desmond wasn't a giant by average standards, but wasn't a dwarf either—and yet she towered over him with ease. He didn't even reach her shoulders.

  "H-How are you even alive?!"

  "I'll take this..."

  "Hey! No!"

  Desmond had to let go of his shock when Almodea, with a swift, smooth movement, snatched the Book of Life from his hand, then disappeared as if nothing had happened.

  Instant teleportation?!

  "Huh? But..."

  Now in a state of complete confusion and near a heart attack from all the surprises, Desmond began frantically looking around, trying to locate Almodea. In his heart, he feared, and hoped, that she was gone. After all, if that girl really knew how to teleport, she could have killed him from the start or escaped.

  Why would she have stayed, if she had been able to escape and buy time?

  A noise broke the silence. Both Desmond and the two masked beasts looked up at the moon, which contained the figure of Almodea, some twenty meters above the ground.

  She watched the man from above, flapping the enormous dragon wings that sprouted from her back, along with a reptilian tail with a sharp red tip.

  "She was half dragon! That's why she's so strong!"

  Desmond commented, astonished.

  However, something didn't add up: Why wasn't Almodea, despite being capable of flight and teleportation, leaving? She simply stood there, watching them. The fact that she was half-dragon made her a threat, but even a dragonborn wouldn't be able to use their magic against a beast of Des Gorgitus's caliber.

  "I think we should stop here, you miserable worm! But first—"

  A furrow appeared on Almodea's face: It was a sadistic smile, unsuitable for her beautiful face.

  “-Let me introduce myself again; I am Almodea Fearterror! Eighteen-year-old daughter of fear and the Absolute Lord, Almodeus! You will have the honor of having me as your executioner. Are you pleased?”

  "Eighteen-year-old?!"

  The almost mocking tone, supported by the fact that such words had been said by a pretentious teenager, made Desmond blush with anger. Was he really losing to a teenager girl?

  "Enough! You may be able to fly, but Des Gorgitus will still catch up with you! Kill her!"

  "You're just a fool..."

  Almodea's right eye lit up with a crimson glow, along with the A on her chest and her right arm, now devoid of the glove concealing it. Her energy was so overwhelming, it made Des Gorgitus’s seem nothing in comparison.

  "Huh? H-How?"

  Something was wrong. Despite the order, both beasts seemed petrified. Instead of advancing, they retreated—as if afraid of the girl.

  "You think magic is useless against masked beasts? Let me prove you wrong, you idiot!"

  As she spoke those words, Almodea began to channel the dark energy produced by her body into what appeared to be a sphere in her hands.

  "What spell is that? It doesn't matter! Des Gorgitus and the Masked Beast have total immunity to magical attacks and elemental abilities!"

  "That's true, but only partially! You should know that the Masked Beast is immune to those of level 5 or lower, same thing for Des Gorgitus, but from level 7 and below, understand? This means that they cannot annual spells that I, the illustrious Almodea Fearterror, can cast!"

  Almodea opened her arms, as if calling upon something. A red sphere formed in her hands.

  “Look at an Absolute level spell! And it's not even the best I can cast, but for you… It'll be enough! ”

  At that, Desmond laughed. Absolute level? That was too much, even for a half-dragon. Magic of that caliber was impossible for humans, rare even for beings on the level of evil deities or the famous 12 Archdemons. He didn't know much about them, but he was certain that no one could cast such magic.

  Absolute Magic don’t exist; you fool!

  He was sure of it.

  "Another bluff of yours! Not even a half-dragon can cast an Absolute level spell! My beasts! Kill her!"

  Despite the expression of distrust, Almodea's smile didn't disappear. Contrary to expectations, it grew noticeably, becoming a macabre furrow on her innocent, girlish face.

  "Half-Dragon? Come on! I already told you I'm a demon and I won't show up for you again! You should have listened and paid attention in class. The punishment will be your life!"

  "No! It's not possible! M-My life's work will go up in smoke in such a short space of time? It's not fair!"

  Noticing Almodea's attitude, as well as the growing energy in the sphere she held in her hands, it was clear that it was all too real- Desmond had understood and accepted it, not that he could have done otherwise. Too little, too late.

  His fate was sealed—in fact, it had been sealed ever since he'd allowed Camille to kill those four adventurers at the shop. Desmond wanted to curse himself for that mistake, but how could he know that choice would pit him against such a powerful opponent?

  Simple: he couldn't.

  "You've been a great stress reliever, dear Desmond! For that I have to thank you..."

  Almodea's smile cracked slightly, revealing a desperate expression, but she quickly returned to smiling. She was hiding her true self. That smile was just a mask to enjoy the moment.

  That was what Almodea wanted to be at that moment: Fear itself.

  "This is for Fiora! Absolute Amplifier: Dragon Burst!"

  A beam of red energy shot out of Almodea's hands, taking the form of a massive dragon, which lunged at the two creatures Desmond had summoned. It reduced the Masked Beast to ashes in an instant, then it moved towards the other one. Des Gorgitus activated his False Weakness ability. It was all useless. Dragon Burst It was a level 8 spell, but thanks to Almodea's Absolute Amplifier skill, it had now become an Absolute tier spell. Des Gorgitus had no hope to survive that.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She wasn't lying, the spell was actually strong enough to end the game.

  “H-How…Could I have known you were so strong? My plans…my beloved Isolde…F-Forgive me.”

  As Desmond let out that sad wail, countless scenes began to flash through his mind – his entire life flashing before his eyes in those few seconds, as if he were watching a movie.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  -Desmond Capamane-Conti

  Born in a village on the outskirts of the Theocracy of Reia, his mother was a calm and serene woman. He had never known his father. He had died in the war against the Dark Elf Kingdom. He had a brother and a sister, whom he loved more than anything. His childhood had been banal at best, but he was ok with it.

  For the love of his family, he became a powerful sorcerer within the ranks of the Theocracy. His life was divided between research and his family, the thing he loved most in the world.

  However… One day, while returning to the village during a vacation, Desmond watched his house burn, with his family inside. He was told that a lightning bolt had caused it all.

  It was nobody's fault.

  Desmond fell into a deep depression and withdrew into his work. He never returned to the village and remained in the Theocracy capital, barricaded in his laboratory.

  It was in that desperation that he encountered a glimmer of light: a woman named Isolde.

  She was the daughter of an Archbishop, named after one of the 12 Gods, and had become interested in Desmond's magical practices. The two quickly fell in love and married, becoming a happy couple.

  Everything seemed to be looking up for Desmond: He had a great career, a wife who loved him, and a baby on the way.

  What could go wrong?

  Everything, since he was there in front of Almodea.

  The reason he ended up in that place was because of his wife's death.

  There she was, on the living room floor of his house. He'd come home from work a little late that evening because of some little matter he couldn't even remember. He'd found her like that—dead—without being able to do anything about it.

  He threw himself to the ground in tears and called for help. According to the clerics who examined her, she had died of illness.

  There was no one to blame. No, no...Desmond believed someone was responsible. That was himself. If only he had returned home sooner, he could have saved his wife with his magic. If he had been there, he could have made her smile one last time. He only learned later that his beloved had been murdered by the Theocracy's higher-ups, because many envied Desmond's abilities and hoped to drive him to self-destruction through grief.

  They didn't kill him because they could use him as a launching pad for fame.

  “I have surpassed the great Desmond!” his opponents would shout.

  The person who had caused his beloved wife's face to twist in agony was none other than himself.

  It was then that Desmond decided to atone for his crime – in other words, he would bring his wife back to life.

  There was a level 5 resurrection spell from the divine magic branch, but that spell couldn't resurrect his wife. Resurrection expends a tremendous amount of life force from the deceased, and the deceased who lacked sufficient life force would not be resurrected, but reduced to ashes and dust. His wife was a mere level 1 priestess—quite mediocre compared to him, lacking the necessary vitality.

  Realizing that holy magic wouldn't help, he tried necromantic magic. He achieved excellent results at first, summoning undead with small memories of their past lives. However, there was another problem: timing.

  Summoning a low-level undead wasn't difficult for a necromancer, but bringing a person back to life while retaining their memories and humanity? Not even the best of dark wizards could do it. A human would die before they could get the solutions Desmond wanted.

  He had to surpass human capabilities—he gad to become immortal.

  This was the conclusion Desmond had come to.

  He escaped the Theocracy and managed to get his hands on an ancient tome, the Book of Life. It was said to have once belonged to one of the Seven Great Sins, who specialized in resurrections. The book was sentient and did everything it could to take control of his mind.

  Had he become an undead, he would have been immune to mind control thanks to the innate abilities of the race, but he refused to give up what his dear Isolde loved the most of him.

  After decades, he had finally managed to gather enough energy, as well as the masks required to summon one of the strongest monsters in the book: Des Gorgitus, the Supreme Masked Beast. With such a monster, he would have achieved his goal without difficulty, and without losing his humanity.

  And then, just as his wish was about to be granted, an insurmountable obstacle appeared in his path.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  “H-How…Could I have known you were so strong? My plans…my beloved Isolde...F-Forgive me.”

  Her desperate cry was answered by cold laughter.

  “I don't care about your dreams or hopes, human! Thanks for giving me the chance to vent my rage on you!”

  After the destruction of the Masked Beast and Des Gorgitus, Dragon Burst moved toward its final target: Desmond. He watched helplessly as the enormous red energy dragon soared toward the moon, before plunging headlong toward him.

  The end came in an instant.

  The impact was so devastating that Desmond's screams continued even after his body was reduced to ashes.

  His dream was erased in less than a second. He was given no chance to beg for mercy or escape.

  "It's over, finally..."

  Almodea commented. She flapped her dragon wings to stay high in the sky—now that she was done playing, she could enjoy watching her beloved father at work.

  "Make her suffer, Dad.”

  She smiled. Her heart was beating faster and faster.

  “Make her suffer for me too!"

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  "What are you doing? Have you given up?"

  Camille commented in confusion as she watched Amon plant his sword in the ground.

  "Let me guess. Was that a coded message to your daughter just now? Did you want her to run away because you realized you're hopeless against me?"

  "Not at all..."

  "So what are you doing?"

  "I told my daughter to put away the toys, so I think I will too! It was all a lot of fun, but play is nice when it's short—not that I'm 100% in favor of it, but those are details..."

  "Tsk! Are you serious, you bastard?! You're just all brawn and no brains! You think you can win? If I hadn't lost my temper at the beginning of the sale, I would have lost it now, damn it!"

  "To be as agile as a cat, you bark like a hungry dog."

  "Bastard...Tsk! Okay, then! Let's end this!"

  Camille took up position, drew her daggers and began her final assault.

  "Physical Enhancement! Superior Enhancement! Acceleration! Flow! Clear Mind!"

  The woman charged with disarming speed, far greater than ever before. In response, Amon didn't move, remaining still, waiting for the blow.

  “You're mine, Bastard! Die!”

  Camille's dagger struck the helmet's opening squarely, stabbing Amon in the right eye. But the woman wasn't finished—she used her second dagger to stab the knight in the neck, a vital point.

  "Don't think I'm done! Twin Blast!”

  He detonated the energy stored in his daggers until then, generating an explosion from inside the armor that raised a great cloud of dust.

  "You were really pathetic! Acting so big and mighty, and instead..."

  The girl stopped speaking when she heard something affirm her. She looked down, but could only glimpse what looked like a red claw. Only when the dust cleared did she realize she was trapped in a huge hand.

  "W-What? What the fuck?!"

  Camille's attention returned to the knight, who remained motionless and silent even after the double stabbing. The red limb was protruding from the right hand of the armor, which seemed to have melted.

  "I've never seen weapons like this before. They use spiritual magic, very interesting..."

  Those were the only words that left the knight's mouth, spoken in a calm, even tone, as if he hadn't just been stabbed and detonated from inside his armor.

  "How are you still alive?!"

  Camille completely forgot about the hand that was holding her down from the stomach, to unleash her fury against the knight who for her should be well and truly gone. She didn't even notice that the armor had started to leak black liquid, or rather, more precisely, it wasn't leaking liquid, it was becoming liquid.

  "I think I owe you an explanation..."

  Amon's armor began to bubble, as if melting, but it didn't fall to the ground - on the contrary, it began to reform into a new shape, with a pulsating red A inscribed in a circle in the center of his chest.

  "What the hell are you?! A Slime?!"

  "A Slime? Almost right! My daughter and I actually share some properties with that species, but we're not part of it or an evolutionary variation of it..."

  "So what the fuck are you, you bastard!?"

  The grip on her belly tightened.

  "I am many things: a demon, the monster under the bed, the one inside the closet, the Absolute Lord, a devoted husband and father... But they all have one thing in common: fear! That's what I truly am!”

  Almodeus moved his face towards her.

  “Instead, you are just a miserable human being."

  "Don't underestimate me!"

  Camille began to seethe with rage, especially after she realized too late that she was trapped from the belly down in the right hand of the former knight, now transformed into a huge humanoid monster.

  Noticing the girl's futile efforts to free herself, Almodeus laughed, amused by the situation.

  "That's precisely why I faced you as Amon. You weren't strong enough for my true form."

  Camille began to freak out at those words, screaming like the depraved lunatic she was. Almodeus was tempted to reveal that she'd actually been telling a half-truth—that the form he was currently using was merely a form of containment and that he could become even stronger if he had transformed—but he decided to remain silent so as not to prolong the matter.

  "You fucking bastard! Let go of me!"

  She began to struggle, but her efforts were in vain–she was completely at the mercy of the devil.

  "Now it's your turn..."

  Almodeus removed the daggers from his right eye and neck. Instead of extracting them normally, he engulfed them in his body, letting them sink into his inky like pebbles in water. With that done, he focused his two-toned eyes on Camille and began to tighten his grip, slowly and painfully.

  "Huh?! What do you want to do?!"

  "Under normal circumstances, I would have blown your head off. But, you're the cause of my daughter's suffering. Now, that deserves special treatment..."

  Almodeus' grip began to tighten, so much so that some ribs of Camille's armor began to come off and fall to the ground.

  "Fear of death, fear of the unknown, fear of defeat...They're all different, but the result is the same: desperation. Sometimes even death if you are lucky. Fear and death go hand in hand, you know?"

  More ribs popped and fell to the ground, others pierced Camille's flesh, making her cry out in pain.

  "You...Bastard!"

  Her insult was ignored, like she wasn't even there.

  “The second is always accompanied by an inevitable feeling of terror, from which one is freed only at the moment of breathing the last breath."

  Realizing what the demon was about to do to, she began punching and headbutting her opponent, to no avail. The one who got hurt between the two was Camille herself.

  "But in your case there will only be terror! No liberation! No eternal peace! No hope..."

  Camille completely lost control: she hit, scratched, punched, bit, and headbutted. The result? She'd knocked out almost all of her teeth, fractured her fingers and broken her nose in a vain attempt to free herself.

  "Shit! No! Noooo! You bastard!"

  "You took it easy with Fiora and Annie, so I'll do the same with you..."

  Almodeus began to raise his second arm, closing his left hand around his right, joining the strength of both limbs. His grip tightened further, and the sound of cracking bones began to be heard.

  "Accompany me in the dance of acceptance. The rite of passage that will lead you to your new existence."

  He looked into Camille's eyes one last time.

  She was bleeding, her nails broken, her teeth shattered, and her nose broken. Hope had fled her body, but Almodeus wasn't finished yet. His daughter had suffered, and now Camille would suffer a fate worse than death.

  "..."

  "..."

  "..."

  Crack!

  After the ominous noise, the girl's body was thrown to the ground, treated like garbage. Her face had lost its sadistic smile, now displaying a terrified expression.

  "You need to know something about me, Camille. I'm extremely...selfish."

  "Wow! Always poetic in your kills! Right, Dad?"

  Almodea commented, breaking the silence. The young demon, still in her half-dragon form, landed next to Camille's body and looked at her father, who was also intent on looking at the woman on the ground.

  "So...What do we do with her?"

  "Let's take her to the Fear Tower. I have some experiments to do..."

  "Got it! What about the others?"

  "Leave them to the adventurers and the guards. From what I understand, they're already on their way here. Leave the corpses but take the equipment."

  “Why do I have to leave the corpses?”

  “They'll make a perfect scapegoat. We'll blame them for the real thing, not that it's our fault in any way.”

  The demon fell silent and looked at his daughter, then changed back into Amon.

  "You look good in your Dragon form, you know?"

  "You like it, huh? Yeah! I love dragons! I know you're more for kraken or ravens, but I've chosen another animal as my favorite..."

  Almodeus burst out laughing.

  "Ahahaha! That's fine, don't worry! Now come on...Let's go see if Desmond had any other books. Did you get the Life one?"

  “Yes! He's talking to me…”

  “Is he talking to you? He?”

  Almodea handed him the tome. He could hear its voice too, as it pleaded with him.

  “Hail to you, Absolute Demon, King of Terror.”

  Those words echoed in his head. It wasn't a mental attack, otherwise it would have been blocked. The book just wanted to talk to him.

  “What…Who are you?”

  “I am the Book of Life. I belonged to Obscurio, one of the Seven Great Sins. But now, I will serve only you, Supreme King of Terror. I beg you to grant me your power, superior to any other.”

  “You want to serve me?”

  "Yes."

  “Why? What do you long for, Book of Life?”

  He was referring to that book as if it was a person. It was natural; an object endowed with reason could be considered a living being.

  "I wish to discover the truth behind life and death. By serving you, I will gain the opportunity to speak with the Voice of the Universe."

  “The Voice of the Universe?”

  "It's an entity that governs this world. Few can speak to it."

  “A kind of God. I understand…”

  “Compared to you, it’s nothing, my Absolute Lord. I will serve you until the end of time.”

  “I accept your services, but you must serve me without hesitation. Do you accept?”

  “Yes, my Absolute Master.”

  Almodeus broke off communication with the book and passed it to Almodea.

  “Can you still hear his voice?”

  "Certainly."

  “Good…We’ll give it to Shockwave for analysis, then I will have a chat with it. Now let’s go!”

  With that, he began walking briskly toward the central mausoleum, followed by his daughter, who placed a hand on her stomach. It looked as if she were digging through gelatin, or ink. She began searching, as if trying to pick up a stone from a bucket of water.

  "I wanted to tell you that, in addition to Desmond's strange book, I also took the Masked Beast's scepter and the Mask of Legacy that Des Gorgitus leaves behind when he is defeated."

  While the first granted immunity to spells of level 5 or lower, the Mask of Legacy allowed one to gain control of those who wore it.

  "Very good, they are precious objects!"

  Almodeus replied, seething with collector instinct.

  “Changing the subject, I hope you're not mad that I fought Camille..."

  Almodea laughed and flapped her wings a couple of times. She knew her father had done everything for her own good, so she hadn't taken it personally.

  "Don't worry! I'm fine...Although I admit I'd like to let off some steam a little more!"

  "Hahaha! I thought so! How about I send you to that bandit base we talked about before all this mess?"

  "Ohhh! I love it! Thanks, Dad! You're the best!"

  The demoness's eyes lit up with joy as she rushed to her father to hug him affectionately.

  “Almodea, please get back into Alcina’s shoes.”

  “Huh? And why?”

  “Because we'll be meeting the guards soon—”

  Almodeus waved his cloak with style.

  “It's time for our triumphant return!”