Multiverse: Deathstroke

Chapter 398: Ch.397 Complicated Demon Lord

Mazikeen, her hands nailed to the throne, was naturally no match for Diana. When the latter swung her divine weapon at her, Mazikeen could only lift her legs, using the high heels on her feet to fight back.

But Diana had learned some tricks from Su Ming—her Sword was just a feint, the real attack was her Lasso of Truth.

Wonder Woman swiftly grabbed Mazikeen's ankle and wrapped the lasso around her legs, quickly binding both her legs and continuing to coil upwards, tying Mazikeen up like a cocooned insect.

With a powerful tug, the lasso constricted, accentuating Mazikeen's curves, adding a hint of femininity to her.

With her hands nailed down and unable to use her angelic powers, Mazikeen could not escape the Lasso of Truth.

"Tell me! Where's the exit?!"

Diana held the Lasso of Truth in her hands, and as she asked her question, the rope glowed with a bright golden light.

"Ah... it's over there, down that corridor, the opposite direction from where you came!"

Mazikeen's face twisted into an indescribably complicated expression, as if immersed in an endless joy, her face flushed, and she let out enticing gasps.

But at the same time, her mouth spoke the information Diana needed, almost involuntarily.

Diana felt slightly embarrassed. A woman showing such an expression of extreme pleasure in front of her made her feel quite strange...

Also, so she should have gone left when she came out of the bedroom earlier? Did that mean all those fights she'd had were meaningless?

But now that she knew, that was enough. She still had an urgent need to find Su Ming and settle things with him.

She retracted the lasso and took a few steps back. She had already won, and the Queen of Hell was too strange—she didn't want to stay here even a second longer.

"Amazons are not slaves."

After leaving these words, Diana vanished down the corridor.

Mazikeen slumped against her throne, panting heavily.

The struggle had caused more blood to flow from her hands, and combined with the binding and questioning, she experienced immense pleasure. She felt ecstatic.

That's right, she was a masochist. Lucifer often used cold treatment on her, things like "ignore play" or verbal humiliation. She loved him all the more for it.

She also self-inflicted pain—nailing herself to the throne, so she could always feel pleasure, a self-imposed sense of isolation.

Earlier, she had even hoped that the Amazon would strike her, causing her pain, making her feel even better...

Unfortunately, Diana wasn't insane—an Amazon wouldn't hit someone who couldn't fight back.

After calming down for a moment, Mazikeen shook her long black hair and resumed her queenly demeanor.

Then she turned her cold gaze toward the little imps cowering in the corner.

"Guards!" she called loudly. From the secret door behind the throne room emerged a more elite unit of guards—her true loyalists.

The leading, towering demon knelt before the throne, bowing its head covered in sharp spikes. "My queen."

"Kill them."

Mazikeen gestured for her guards to take care of the little imps. They had seen something they shouldn't have—the Queen of Hell enjoying herself while being bound...

"By your command."

The tall demon stood, drawing a weapon wreathed in Hellfire, grinning as he approached the little imps.

The little imps were just palace servants. They had no combat ability, and under the immense pressure of the high-ranking demon, they couldn't even scream.

"Kill them slowly. I want to hear their cries of pain, and the sound of air leaking from their tracheas. I quite enjoy that hissing sound," Mazikeen added, closing her eyes as if in anticipation.

The tall demon's grin disappeared, and his lava-cracked face took on a serious expression.

"Your will, my queen."

The flames receded from his weapon, revealing the jagged black blade beneath. The queen wanted to hear the dying screams—she would have her wish.

Soon, the throne room echoed with unending screams, mixed with Mazikeen's delighted laughter. Whether inflicting pain or receiving it, it pleased her.

She was the Demon Lord of Hell, born for this.

Diana had returned to Hell's main street. Thankfully, it was called a street rather than a market, meaning there was only one road.

Following the main road, she soon saw the two doors standing in the middle of the plains.

The Ivory Gate and the Spiked Gate.

Now came the question—which one should she choose?

Su Ming had said that if she believed the dream was false, she should choose the Spiked Gate. If she thought the door was real, then choose the Ivory Gate.

Although there was only one Dreaming, the content beyond the doors was completely different.

Dreams were born from the heart, and different hearts led to different dreams.

Remembering her earlier dream and recalling all the childhood nightmares about Hecate, Diana didn't want to believe they were real. She would rather believe that dreams were the opposite.

She stepped into the Spiked Gate.

Pushing open the massive door required tremendous strength, but Diana had plenty of strength. She only needed to open a small crack to slip through.

Contrary to the fierce and terrifying appearance of the Spiked Gate, the scenery beyond it was beautiful—green trees, red flowers, a peaceful and tranquil atmosphere.

Here, even her thoughts of beating Su Ming began to fade, and she just wanted to find a place to sleep peacefully.

However, her sense of duty quickly reminded her of her mission. She ignored the cute animals on the side of the road and the smiling sun in the sky, quickly flying towards Dream's castle.

Su Ming had mentioned that Dream had gone missing, but within the castle, Cain and Abel—the brothers forever enacting their murders—would help her return to the real world.

Once back in the real world, she could contact Batman and naturally find out where the team was.

After Cain pulled out a giant axe and chopped his brother Abel into pieces from behind, the dismembered Abel told Diana how to leave the Dreaming.

Through the paintings in Dream's castle, she could travel to the places depicted.

Diana thanked the two brothers, who would forever repeat this murderous tale—it was the dream of the world.

She glanced back at the sky, at the massive rift of mixed black and white, feeling more and more the approaching doom.

Walking through Dream's castle, strange statues constantly spoke to her, but her focus remained on identifying the paintings.

She saw a familiar place—a painting of Aeaea Island. The waves and rocks seemed almost real.

That's it—Circe. Going to her would give Diana a more complete understanding of what had happened after she was knocked out.

With her decision made, Diana plunged into the painting.

She returned to Aeaea Island, where Circe was currently fiddling with some magical items in her cave. She hadn't, as she said earlier, fled to take refuge.

The moment Diana set foot on the island, Circe felt it. She gently set aside the amulet in her hands and sat on the sofa, waiting for Diana.

She remembered the bald man, and the laughing madman—the current situation was exactly as they had said!

Such terrifying calculations.

But thinking of the benefits she might gain, Circe had never been more eager for Diana's arrival.