Reincarnation Of Darryl The Devil - Revenge Is All He Wants

Let Them Go!

Let Them Go!

Shera knelt before Moloch's throne, head bowed in deference. "Master," he murmured, "your enemies have been uncovered. They are cunning and resourceful, but they cannot match your might." Moloch's crimson eyes narrowed, their malevolent gaze boring into Shera's cowering form.

"Fools," he growled, his voice like the rumble of a volcanic eruption. "No one challenges my dominion and lives to tell the tale."

Moloch's eyes glinted with a predatory gleam. "I sense a thirst for knowledge, my faithful servant. Enlighten me - who dares to challenge me?" He leaned forward in anticipation, his voice dripping with ominous promise.

"Darryl, the one whom was foretold to be reincarnated thousand years ago." Shera announced, Moloch couldn't help but chuckle.

Moloch chortled, his laughter echoing through the chamber. "Ah, Darryl... the fabled chosen one, returned from the mists of time. Spare me the histrionics, Shera. This Darryl is nothing more than a nuisance - a fly buzzing around my domain." Moloch dismissed Shera with a languid wave of his hand, his disdain oozing from every syllable.

"Is it time already?" Moloch wondered aloud, a devilish grin spreading across his left face. "Is today the day?"

"Shera, are you there?" Moloch's voice echoed in the empty room. There was no response, only silence. He began to pace back and forth, growing increasingly anxious about what to do with Darryl.

"I'm here, master." The voice was soft, yet commanding. Moloch turned around to see Shera standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on her face. Her eyes glittered like embers in the dim light, and Moloch felt a shiver of anticipation run down his spine.

"You took your time," he said, trying to sound composed. But inside, his heart was racing. He knew he was treading on dangerous ground.

"What do you plan to do with Darryl and his accompanies in the dungeon? Also, are you aware that Moran, the sorceress is part of them?" Shera asked.

Moloch's eyes widened as Shera's words sank in. Moran, a sorceress whom he had trusted and confided in, was working with Darryl and his companions? The thought was almost too much to bear. He felt his stomach twist into knots as he considered the implications of this betrayal. Was Moran plotting against him? Was she using her magic to aid Darryl and his group? Moloch's mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.

"What should I do with Darryl?" Moloch mused aloud, pacing back and forth. "Killing him in the dungeon would be too easy, but facing him head-on would be dangerous. Perhaps I should find another way to deal with him, one that would test my mettle and not make me look like a coward." He was talking more to himself than to Shera, but he couldn't help but feel the need to voice his thoughts out loud. It helped him think through the situation.

"Do you think you can face him on a head-on? Yes, it would make you look like a cowardice if you decide to kill him secretly inside the dungeon." Shera shared her thought with him.

"But how did manage to defeat him?" Moloch asked, he sat on his cushion that seemed like a throne. He rested his back.

"Darkness was all it took, my sight are sharp as usual in the darkness while he couldn't see anything. Are you planning on using that too?" Shera asked in awe.

"Use that? I have the ability to see in that darkness, but my sight are not as sharp as yours. Let him go." Shera couldn't believe what she heard.

"Release him? Just like that?" Shera asked not getting what Moloch was really trying to say.

"You heard me right, release him! If we meet now, one of us must die, I'm not confident enough to take him on now. I need a little time more," Moloch bolted out. His right hand signifying that Shera should exit the room, with a bow she moved out backwardly.

Shera opened the door, and a cloud of dust billowed out as she stepped inside. Darryl, Hugo, and Moran sat on the floor, their hands and feet chained to the walls. They looked up at her with a mixture of fear and hope in their eyes. "You're finally here," Darryl said, his voice weak and hoarse.

A thick, noxious cloud of smoke billowed from the hole, carrying with it a cloying scent that made Darryl's head swim. He felt lightheaded and disoriented, as if his body were filled with lead. Hugo and Moran looked just as dazed and listless as he felt, their heads lolling against the wall.

"You're lucky Moloch isn't ready to take you on now," Shera hissed, her lips twisted into a cruel smile. She leaned in close to Darryl, so close that he could smell the putrid stench of her breath. "But your luck is about to run out." She spat in his face, the saliva dripping down his cheek like an insult. Darryl felt the bile rise in his throat, but he was too weak to protest. The smoke had gotten the best out of him.

The last thing Darryl saw was a shadow looming over him. He heard the whoosh of air as something heavy swung towards him. Then, a sharp, blinding pain erupted in his head, and everything went black. He crumpled to the floor like a discarded rag doll.

"Are you awake?" A feminine voice interrupted Darryl as he stretched himself over.

As Darryl's vision gradually cleared, he made out the form of a woman sitting across from him. She was holding a steaming cup of coffee, which she placed on the table in front of him. Darryl slowly sat up, his head pounding from the blow he'd taken. "Who are you?" he croaked, his throat dry and scratchy. Moran simply smiled, a mysterious glint in her eye.

"I'm curious, Moran, how did you manage to escape from Moloch's wrath? You must have some incredible story to tell." Darryl's voice was full of curiosity, and he leaned forward in his seat, eager to hear what she had to say. Moran hesitated for a moment, as if she were considering whether or not to tell him the truth. Finally, she spoke.

"Isn't it surprising that he let you go too? I'm also curious of why he didn't revenge on me for betraying him, but I'm more curious of why he didn't take this chance to kill you, his sworn enemy." Moran replied, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

As Hugo entered the room, he looked at Darryl and Moran with a knowing smile. "It seems we have a lot to discuss," he said, his voice low and calm. "And I think I may have an idea as to why Moloch spared the both of you." He paused, letting the tension build before continuing.

"Moloch is afraid of Darryl," Hugo continued, "because he knows that it might be easy to fight him, but he can't be killed easily as he was reincarnated. But he could have also killed you secretly, but he was trying not to be a coward. And for you Moran, I have no idea of why he let you go."

"Moloch's territory was like a fortress," Darryl said, a note of frustration in his voice. "I searched and searched for my wife using my brain and technologies, but I couldn't find her. I couldn't even get close. But then, when we entered the heart of his territory, I felt something. A sense of her presence. It was faint, but unmistakable." He looked at Moran, his eyes full of hope. "What do you think it means?"