"Gyahahaha! Pathetically weak! Who's next?" Hubrion bellowed triumphantly, his voice echoing through the arena and resonating with the bloodthirsty cheers of the audience.
As Hubrion's triumphant voice resonated through the colossal coliseum, a strange mix of reactions rippled through the gathered spectators.
Ren and Evie found themselves in a precarious situation, desperately holding back laughter that threatened to burst forth.
The irony of Hubrion's commanding presence, with his massive and masculine physique, paired with a gay face and a surprisingly high-pitched voice, created a stark contrast that left them bewildered.
In a place where demonic power and ferocity were celebrated, the unexpected discordance between Hubrion's exterior and his vocal tones was enough to make even the most serious burst into laughter.
Ren couldn't help but wonder if Hubrion had been intentionally designed in such a paradoxical manner or if it was a bizarre quirk of the developers.
"Is that really her voice?" Evie asked no one.
Vivi responded, "Indeed, it might sound amusing, but it's best not to mention it to him. Hubrion takes his high-pitched voice quite seriously."
"Ah, once there was a demon who mocked his voice," Avaris began, casually munching on some inferno kernels, "and he vanished from the pages of history within seconds."
Desira expressed her disappointment with a shake of her head. "I offered to fix his voice once, but he adamantly refused. He believes that altering his voice would compromise a natural aspect of his body and his pride wouldn't allow it –– or so he claims. Whatever that means."
While Lethargia's contribution to the conversation was a loud snore.
Nonetheless, an eerie silence settled over the arena as Hubrion's declaration echoed, the anticipation hanging thick in the air.
It was a momentary pause, a brief lull before the storm, as demons and devils observed the spectacle with rapt attention.
Then, cutting through the quietude, a single voice pierced the atmosphere.
"I'll take you on!"
Ren and the others, initially absorbed in their contemplation of Hubrion's unique attributes, suddenly snapped to attention.
The voice seemed oddly familiar, and confusion marked their expressions.
Elena was the first to voice her suspicion. "Wait . . . that voice sounded familiar."
As they redirected their focus towards the stage, their eyes widened in disbelief. The new challenger, standing boldly in the face of Hubrion, was none other than Azazel.
Ren, Evie, and the rest of the group had to rub their eyes and look again, as if the vision before them was some sort of demonic illusion.
They couldn't comprehend how Azazel had transitioned from his seat to the center stage without anyone noticing.
The empty space where Azazel had been seated moments ago emphasized that he was really on the stage and it wasn't an illusion.
The arena, once silent, erupted in whispers and murmurs as the audience grappled with the uncanny turn of events.
"Who's that demon?"
"I don't know."
"He's just a kid."
"Doesn't he know that it's a fight to the death?"
"I feel bad for him."
Azazel was standing tall with an air of overconfidence and pride as he locked eyes with Hubrion.
The centaur-like demon, for a moment, seemed genuinely taken aback by the unforeseen challenge. His expression shifted from one of confident arrogance to a bemused curiosity.
"Do you remember me, Hubrion?" Azazel's voice echoed challengingly.
Hubrion fell silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing at Azazel. "You are . . . it can't be . . ."
"Looks like the corruption inside you is reacting to me," Azazel chuckled, his voice echoing in the tense atmosphere of the demonic arena. "Though I have to commend you. You didn't let the corruption taint your mind. Looks like you're still you . . . except that you're killing demons in the arena."
Hubrion fell silent for a moment, his massive form casting a shadow over the stage. Then, unexpectedly, he burst into hearty laughter, leaving the audience stunned.
It was the first time they had witnessed Hubrion's laughter in many years, and the sheer sound of it reverberated through the coliseum.
"This is wonderful!" Hubrion commented, still laughing. "I never once thought of you as dead! You're the demon that's above me! There's no way that you can be dead!"
His laughter echoed, resonating with a joyous energy that seemed out of place in the surroundings.
However, the moment of levity was short-lived, as Hubrion's expression suddenly shifted, his demeanor becoming serious.
With a swift motion, he flung his giant axe in Azazel's direction. "I assume that you want the corruption inside me? That's why you're here, isn't it, Lord Azazel?" Hubrion questioned, his eyes glinting with a mixture of challenge and anticipation.
"Huh? What did he say? Lord?"
"I didn't quite get it."
"Shut up. I can't hear them."
The murmurs and speculations filled the arena, but Hubrion and Azazel remained enveloped in their own world of conversation.
Azazel grinned, revealing a flash of teeth. "That's right. Will you hand it over to me?"
Hubrion laughed once more, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to reverberate within the very core of the coliseum. "Gyahahaha! You can have it!"
The sudden change in Hubrion's demeanor caught the audience off guard, and a wave of whispers spread through the demonic onlookers.
Hubrion continued, his face turning serious again, his eyes glinting with a red intensity. "But only if you defeat me in combat."
Azazel was silent for a moment, his grin widening as if relishing the challenge. "So be it then."
"Gyahahaha! That's the spirit, Lord Azazel! Men should have their pride! You can't just beg for something; you have to earn it like a true man!" Hubrion declared, his voice echoing through the arena, and the crowd erupted into cheers at the prospect of another battle.
Desira, typically swift in her responses, found herself momentarily speechless. Her eyes darted back and forth between Azazel and Hubrion. "Lord Azazel . . ."
"He isn't at his full power yet," Vivi said with a note of concern. "Will he be alright, I wonder?"
"He's going to be fine," Avaris said, waving his hand dismissively. Then his face contorted in fear. "I hope . . ."