A moment before Luke cut up the two little evil spirits in the secret chamber in the belly of the mountain, somewhere in the hell dimension, a white-haired old man in a black suit was examining an altar expressionlessly.
He then took out his tablet and opened the notebook.
He found the catalog of Collection Point 249. It said that the last time a large number of qualified souls had been sent here was forty years ago.
With a thought, the white-haired old man instantly searched the entire altar and his subordinates.
There was nothing wrong with the altar. Perhaps the subordinate in charge of the altar had conducted a large-scale sacrifice forty years ago, which attracted the attention of certain existences and was suppressed.
With this possibility in mind, the white-haired old man didn't waste any time. He was about to check the next place, when the altar in front of him suddenly lit up.
However, there were nearly a thousand altars that had been transferred from the core throne in this area, and one of them opened every now and then.
The souls that were sent here were automatically processed, and there was nothing for him to do. The old man turned around and flew to the next collection point.
Just as he turned around, a portal opened up in the middle of the altar, and a pale golden radiance that was several times thicker than his entire body emerged from it.
The altar's protective mechanism was immediately activated, and an isolation barrier was raised.
However, the power of faith contained in this pale golden light had a natural anti-magic property.
A certain guy who had so many points that he was crazy wanted to gamble, and placed a "heavy bet" of 600,000 in one go.
The isolation barrier that had been set up normally only weakened its energy a little, and instantly shattered.
The pale golden light that was shooting in the opposite direction of the white-haired old man was blocked by the arc-shaped isolation barrier, and it made a U-turn and shot behind him.
Sensing the abnormality, the white-haired old man's lifeless eyes lit up with a red light, and his white hair fluttered. He suddenly turned his head, and a blinding pale golden light filled his entire field of vision.
"F * ck …" he cursed.
The pale golden light enveloped his upper body and completely disappeared into it.
The old man's fluttering white hair suddenly fell down, and the red light in his eyes turned into "Fiery Eyes," which emitted golden light.
He struggled to finish the second half of the sentence. "… F * ck!"
Countless pale golden lights appeared on his body, cutting him into smaller and smaller pieces.
Boom!
The old man exploded into golden dust, as if it were raining gold powder.
The faint golden light seemed to have not been damaged at all as it swam in the air, leaving a series of afterimages. It seemed to be very happy.
But half a breath later, it suddenly turned around and stared at a tiny, needle-like black hole in the old man's shattered golden powder.
There came a distress message from his "comrades": Oh my, this old man is so powerful. Our brothers are retreating in defeat! Support! We need support!
The faint golden radiance that was like a swimming dragon suddenly shone brightly and plunged into the tiny black hole.
…
Somewhere in the distant Hell Dimension, in the core palace of the entire Hell, Mephistos was sleeping quietly.
Some time ago, he did not have the patience to use his main body to manage the chores in hell, so he simply borrowed the shell of an Exquisite Soul and created a clone, giving it the most basic logic and authority.
Then, this clone would move all the items in the core palace that had major safety hazards to a further place and centralize their management.
As long as his avatar did not leave the Hell Dimension, he could use the power of Hell to resist the strange power that could destroy souls.
Old Mo had been tormented by this strange energy for a long time and had "personally experienced" its essence.
This was the power of faith, one of the so-called "powers of God."
But the one that Old Mo encountered had been adjusted and enhanced by some mysterious existence. Not only was it more effective against Hell creatures, it was also very difficult to get rid of.
In fact, Old Mo was already a little hesitant about whether or not to seek revenge on that Big Dipper after he recovered.
After all, that psycho Big Dipper was just a hired thug that mysterious existence had sent out.
Generally speaking, this kind of hired thug was just expendable cannon fodder.
But there were always some exceptions who could be outstanding even as hired thugs.
For example, Ghost Rider, or … Supreme Mage Ancient One.
The upper limit of Big Dipper's strength was temporarily uncertain, but the existence that could create this strange "power of God" was definitely difficult to deal with.
Old Mo had survived all these years safely by relying on his exquisite "Teleportation Spell" — when he encountered a big problem, he would immediately stay at home.
As long as he stayed at home, no one could kill him! He, Mephistos, was such a reliable Demon Lord.
…
Suddenly, in his deep sleep, he sensed that his clone had been destroyed in an instant. A sense of danger struck his heart, and the Absolute Defense, which was connected to his mind, was activated at the same time.
A spot of gold lit up not far from Old Mo's body, and then an insanely thick pale golden light squeezed out of the tiny black hole and shot straight at the pure black Absolute Defense like a laser cannon.
Poof!
The black Absolute Defense suddenly turned gray, and a hole the size of a bowl appeared on it.
At this moment, Old Mo's body had just jumped up from the throne, and the pale golden light, which was slightly better than the Absolute Defense, decisively rushed into the warm embrace of his companions.
"Ahhhh ~ ~ ~" Old Mo clutched his old waist and let out a miserable cry.
But in this core palace, no one could see the Lord's miserable state, nor could they hear his screams — provided that he didn't get angry and let the entire dimension know.
After a while, Old Mo first patched up the hole in the Absolute Defense that had been broken, then gritted his teeth and sat down, taking deep breaths. "Don't be angry, I'm not angry, calm down, you must calm down."
With that said, he carefully checked his injuries, and suddenly his face relaxed. "Fortunately, I was prepared. This attack was ten times stronger than the previous two times, and my injuries didn't worsen much."
At this point, his face suddenly changed. The third time! This was the third time Seven Star attacked. He didn't have the demeanor of a super expert at all, and his attacks were always sneak attacks.
If he continued like this, he wouldn't be able to go to Earth, and he would have to guard against sneak attacks every day. A certain Lord finally felt a strong sense of unease.
Ancient One was so powerful, but he wasn't as troublesome as this guy! He cursed in his heart. Ancient One's style was high, and he knew that he had to retreat, so he didn't take the initiative to come to him again.
Unlike this Seven Star, it was like he was crouching at the door of hell, ready to rush in and bite people at any time!
Would he really have to find Seven Star for revenge in the future? Or … should he quietly negotiate? After thinking about it, Old Mo still couldn't make up his mind.
He had lived for an unknown number of years, and it was normal for him to decide something within a few decades, and it was not unusual for him to take a few hundred years.
However, he couldn't use his doppelganger to replace management. That kind of "Divine Power" was simply poisonous, and it could even track down soul fragments.
He could only blame himself for being too lazy. It seemed that he still had to keep up with the times and keep up with the pace of the times. The Lord's mind was made up very quickly.
He took out the tablet, issued orders to several of his subordinates, and fell back to sleep.
In the Hell Dimension, several Great Demons scattered in several places heard a soft text message prompt.
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