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Chapter 503: The Legendary Dormammu
Warworld was an incredibly terrifying war fortress.
It was a golden metal planet, the entire world filled with all kinds of high-tech weaponry, ready to be converted into terrifying lethality at a moment's notice.
Its ruler was Mongul, an infamous invader in the universe. His favorite pastime was piloting Warworld to conquer one planet after another, killing the civilians, and then enslaving the powerful warriors to fight for him.
The entire interior of Warworld was a colossal gladiatorial arena, where thousands of powerful slaves who had survived from various planets were forced to kill each other for the sake of survival.
Mongul's favorite form of entertainment was watching these slaves fight desperately for a few more moments of life. It gave him a great sense of accomplishment.
"What do you think, Dormammu? My warriors are quite powerful, aren't they?" Mongul sat on a high platform. He had grayish skin, a heavy-set body, and a pair of bloodshot eyes filled with savagery.
"Hmph, they're far too weak, not even worth mentioning. Just spit it out. Why did you use a magic array to summon me?" Dormammu sneered as he looked down at an alien warrior holding up his opponent's head, roaring at the surrounding spectators.
Mongul's smile suddenly vanished. He looked at Dormammu with cold indifference, his savage eyes filled with undisguised killing intent. He said, enunciating every word, "Dormammu, we haven't known each other for just a day or two. In my presence, drop your arrogance."
To Mongul, a lucky piece of trash like Dormammu was always an eyesore. In his eyes, Dormammu, who hailed from a primitive planet like Earth, would never have been qualified to sit with him if he hadn't gotten ridiculously lucky and obtained the Dark Dimension.
Although he, Mongul, was only a demigod, he was confident that he was definitely stronger than this practitioner of dark magic, Dormammu. If Dormammu's main body wasn't hiding in the Dark Dimension, refusing to come out no matter what, Mongul truly wouldn't fear him.
Of course, he didn't fear him now either.
Dormammu said nothing. His head, wreathed in blazing flames, would occasionally reveal an arrogant gaze. Wherever his eyes swept, the loudly shouting and cursing spectators all shut their mouths and looked up at him.
Mongul's mood soured even further.
Like a deity, Dormammu watched with indifferent calm. The entire arena gradually fell silent, no one daring to make a sound, all suppressed by an indescribable pressure.
"Once, I fought a blood war with Trigon."
Dormammu slowly rose to his feet, his voice incredibly steady. The flames on his head suddenly erupted, bathing half the arena in their fiery glow. His massive shadow spread continuously, as if it would consume the entire world.
"Not long ago, I shattered Ancient Doomsday with a single punch and expelled him from the Dark Dimension."
Dormammu's voice was filled with immense authority.
His voice carried throughout all of Warworld, drawing countless gazes of awe.
"That's enough!"
Mongul couldn't take it anymore. He shot up with a roar, stomping his foot on the ground in anger. A section of the high-alloy floor caved in instantly.
Dormammu continued unhurriedly, "I once defeated Tony, forcing him to cooperate with me. Under my brilliant leadership, we finally exterminated Mephisto."
"Mephisto, the archdemon from Hell, was choked by me, dying while wailing in agony in my hands."
"Even that Tony from Earth considers me his greatest rival."
Dormammu spun around abruptly, his body swelling once more, becoming even taller than Mongul. He lowered his head, his eyes gleaming with a fierce light, and growled, "Mongul, as an old acquaintance, who the hell are you posturing for in front of me?"
"You think you can out-posture me?! Huh?!"
"I can't even bear to strike you down. After all, I am too strong—so strong that I can't even control myself, worried that I might hurt you with a single move." Dormammu leaned forward slightly, looking very sincere. "Believe me, my friend, I have been protecting you all this time, shielding you from the harm of my rampaging aura."
Countless stunned and shocked gazes were cast over. Dormammu's voice had spread throughout Warworld, and the beings on it were utterly shaken, looking at him with complicated expressions.
"Lord Mongul's guest... is he actually that formidable? As expected of the legendary man!"
"Hiss—how terrifying! To think that being has such a horrifying track record!"
"Look, our master, Mongul, doesn't dare to speak... and he's trembling?"
"Shh, quiet down, or the master will kill you."
The slaves whispered among themselves, casting strange glances at Dormammu and Mongul.
Mongul trembled, seeing stars. His rock-like body was faintly shaking.
"Dormammu, have you no shame?" Mongul was shaking with anger. He couldn't hold it in any longer. He stepped forward and roared, his fists clenched, the aura of a demigod erupting and shaking the entirety of Warworld.
He had never imagined that Dormammu could be so shameless.
The things he said... they might fool those idiots, but did he really think they could fool someone of his level?
It was infuriating!
Dormammu sneered, "I know you're jealous, but believe me, Mongul, you will never become me in this lifetime—simply because I am the Dark Lord Dormammu!"
"If you're not convinced, come directly to the Dark Dimension and fight my true body."
Dormammu spoke rapidly, as if he had rehearsed this a thousand times, "Killing this weak clone of mine proves nothing. Defeating my main body is what takes real skill."
Enraged, and hearing the whispers of the slaves and spectators, Mongul could no longer restrain himself. With a low roar, he sent Dormammu flying with a single punch. The latter, now heavily injured, shot Mongul a disdainful glance and vanished.
The summoning magic array on the ground slowly faded away.
Mongul furiously charged into the arena below and slaughtered several hundred slaves before he could barely suppress his rage, looking with satisfaction at the deathly silent audience all around.
He left the arena and strode swiftly toward the depths of Warworld.
As vast as a satellite, the interior of Warworld was immense. The deeper one went, the tighter the security became. No one besides Mongul was permitted to enter.
But in the very depths, someone was waiting for him.
"Hank Henshaw, I told you long ago, there was no need to invite a piece of trash like Dormammu. He was shameless hundreds of years ago, and now he's utterly lost all face."
Mongul stormed in, his eyes revealing a savage mood, ready to kill at any moment. He looked at the man before him, making no effort to hide his hostility and disgust.
Hank Henshaw was a man whose entire body was pieced together from machinery. Only a small part of his face still showed any semblance of flesh and blood.
Not long ago, he had belligerently forced his way into Warworld, killing many people along the way, before coming face to face with Mongul for a discussion.
Hank demanded that Mongul pilot Warworld to do something for him.
Revenge.
"It doesn't matter if he didn't come. I wasn't counting on him anyway. He's just a coward scared witless by Tony. Besides, he's an Earthling after all."
Hank's low voice sounded, his electronic eye glowing red:
"I'll remind you one more time, do not call me by that name. I abandoned it long ago... You should call me—Cyborg Superman!"
(end of chapter)
Warworld was an incredibly terrifying war fortress.
It was a golden metal planet, the entire world filled with all kinds of high-tech weaponry, ready to be converted into terrifying lethality at a moment's notice.
Its ruler was Mongul, an infamous invader in the universe. His favorite pastime was piloting Warworld to conquer one planet after another, killing the civilians, and then enslaving the powerful warriors to fight for him.
The entire interior of Warworld was a colossal gladiatorial arena, where thousands of powerful slaves who had survived from various planets were forced to kill each other for the sake of survival.
Mongul's favorite form of entertainment was watching these slaves fight desperately for a few more moments of life. It gave him a great sense of accomplishment.
"What do you think, Dormammu? My warriors are quite powerful, aren't they?" Mongul sat on a high platform. He had grayish skin, a heavy-set body, and a pair of bloodshot eyes filled with savagery.
"Hmph, they're far too weak, not even worth mentioning. Just spit it out. Why did you use a magic array to summon me?" Dormammu sneered as he looked down at an alien warrior holding up his opponent's head, roaring at the surrounding spectators.
Mongul's smile suddenly vanished. He looked at Dormammu with cold indifference, his savage eyes filled with undisguised killing intent. He said, enunciating every word, "Dormammu, we haven't known each other for just a day or two. In my presence, drop your arrogance."
To Mongul, a lucky piece of trash like Dormammu was always an eyesore. In his eyes, Dormammu, who hailed from a primitive planet like Earth, would never have been qualified to sit with him if he hadn't gotten ridiculously lucky and obtained the Dark Dimension.
Although he, Mongul, was only a demigod, he was confident that he was definitely stronger than this practitioner of dark magic, Dormammu. If Dormammu's main body wasn't hiding in the Dark Dimension, refusing to come out no matter what, Mongul truly wouldn't fear him.
Of course, he didn't fear him now either.
Dormammu said nothing. His head, wreathed in blazing flames, would occasionally reveal an arrogant gaze. Wherever his eyes swept, the loudly shouting and cursing spectators all shut their mouths and looked up at him.
Mongul's mood soured even further.
Like a deity, Dormammu watched with indifferent calm. The entire arena gradually fell silent, no one daring to make a sound, all suppressed by an indescribable pressure.
"Once, I fought a blood war with Trigon."
Dormammu slowly rose to his feet, his voice incredibly steady. The flames on his head suddenly erupted, bathing half the arena in their fiery glow. His massive shadow spread continuously, as if it would consume the entire world.
"Not long ago, I shattered Ancient Doomsday with a single punch and expelled him from the Dark Dimension."
Dormammu's voice was filled with immense authority.
His voice carried throughout all of Warworld, drawing countless gazes of awe.
"That's enough!"
Mongul couldn't take it anymore. He shot up with a roar, stomping his foot on the ground in anger. A section of the high-alloy floor caved in instantly.
Dormammu continued unhurriedly, "I once defeated Tony, forcing him to cooperate with me. Under my brilliant leadership, we finally exterminated Mephisto."
"Mephisto, the archdemon from Hell, was choked by me, dying while wailing in agony in my hands."
"Even that Tony from Earth considers me his greatest rival."
Dormammu spun around abruptly, his body swelling once more, becoming even taller than Mongul. He lowered his head, his eyes gleaming with a fierce light, and growled, "Mongul, as an old acquaintance, who the hell are you posturing for in front of me?"
"You think you can out-posture me?! Huh?!"
"I can't even bear to strike you down. After all, I am too strong—so strong that I can't even control myself, worried that I might hurt you with a single move." Dormammu leaned forward slightly, looking very sincere. "Believe me, my friend, I have been protecting you all this time, shielding you from the harm of my rampaging aura."
Countless stunned and shocked gazes were cast over. Dormammu's voice had spread throughout Warworld, and the beings on it were utterly shaken, looking at him with complicated expressions.
"Lord Mongul's guest... is he actually that formidable? As expected of the legendary man!"
"Hiss—how terrifying! To think that being has such a horrifying track record!"
"Look, our master, Mongul, doesn't dare to speak... and he's trembling?"
"Shh, quiet down, or the master will kill you."
The slaves whispered among themselves, casting strange glances at Dormammu and Mongul.
Mongul trembled, seeing stars. His rock-like body was faintly shaking.
"Dormammu, have you no shame?" Mongul was shaking with anger. He couldn't hold it in any longer. He stepped forward and roared, his fists clenched, the aura of a demigod erupting and shaking the entirety of Warworld.
He had never imagined that Dormammu could be so shameless.
The things he said... they might fool those idiots, but did he really think they could fool someone of his level?
It was infuriating!
Dormammu sneered, "I know you're jealous, but believe me, Mongul, you will never become me in this lifetime—simply because I am the Dark Lord Dormammu!"
"If you're not convinced, come directly to the Dark Dimension and fight my true body."
Dormammu spoke rapidly, as if he had rehearsed this a thousand times, "Killing this weak clone of mine proves nothing. Defeating my main body is what takes real skill."
Enraged, and hearing the whispers of the slaves and spectators, Mongul could no longer restrain himself. With a low roar, he sent Dormammu flying with a single punch. The latter, now heavily injured, shot Mongul a disdainful glance and vanished.
The summoning magic array on the ground slowly faded away.
Mongul furiously charged into the arena below and slaughtered several hundred slaves before he could barely suppress his rage, looking with satisfaction at the deathly silent audience all around.
He left the arena and strode swiftly toward the depths of Warworld.
As vast as a satellite, the interior of Warworld was immense. The deeper one went, the tighter the security became. No one besides Mongul was permitted to enter.
But in the very depths, someone was waiting for him.
"Hank Henshaw, I told you long ago, there was no need to invite a piece of trash like Dormammu. He was shameless hundreds of years ago, and now he's utterly lost all face."
Mongul stormed in, his eyes revealing a savage mood, ready to kill at any moment. He looked at the man before him, making no effort to hide his hostility and disgust.
Hank Henshaw was a man whose entire body was pieced together from machinery. Only a small part of his face still showed any semblance of flesh and blood.
Not long ago, he had belligerently forced his way into Warworld, killing many people along the way, before coming face to face with Mongul for a discussion.
Hank demanded that Mongul pilot Warworld to do something for him.
Revenge.
"It doesn't matter if he didn't come. I wasn't counting on him anyway. He's just a coward scared witless by Tony. Besides, he's an Earthling after all."
Hank's low voice sounded, his electronic eye glowing red:
"I'll remind you one more time, do not call me by that name. I abandoned it long ago... You should call me—Cyborg Superman!"
(end of chapter)
