Chapter 550: Chapter 534: The Demon’s Deal

The curtains in the second-floor study of the Deep Blue Residence were tightly drawn.

On the floor, intricate and twisted Runes formed a Sacrificial Array, burning with eerie green flames. This was the universal cross-realm communication ceremony of Purgatory, provided by Sargeras.

"Begin." Allen stood outside the door, but his voice echoed directly in Sargeras’s consciousness through the Soul Brand.

Inside the study, the withered Soul Flame trembled before separating a faint strand of energy and casting it into the center of the Array.

In a humiliated and numb tone, Sargeras chanted the ancient Demon Language.

Space violently distorted. The flames at the center of the Array surged upward, and a massive Phantom—constructed from countless jewels, wailing souls, and white bones—was slowly projected into the room.

An overwhelmingly thick scent of sulfur instantly filled the area.

The 7th Floor Lord of Purgatory, the Greed Demon King: Mammon.

"I smell... a familiar scent."

Mammon’s voice, which sounded like an amalgamation of countless men and women, echoed. His eyes, forged from Molten Gold, studied Sargeras—now reduced to a mere ball of a soul in the Array—with keen interest. "Oh, look who it is. The immortal monarch who conquered multiple Planes, reduced to such pitiful dregs?

"Our arrogant 9th Floor Lord, Sargeras. I heard you took the Vanguard Legion to some backwater Plane. What happened? Did someone pound your flesh into paste, leaving only a remnant soul to come crying back?"

Mammon’s voice was grating and full of malicious mockery. "You truly look like a stray dog. If you’re here to seek asylum, I could rent out my Blood Pool to you. As for the interest... I’ll take ten percent of your Soul origin a day. How does that sound?"

Sargeras’s Soul Flame trembled violently. Humiliation and fury churned madly in the depths of his consciousness. In the past, he would have mobilized his demon army to attack long ago. But now, the chains of the Nether River Contract tightened slightly in his soul, reminding him of his current status. Consequently, his Soul Flame merely flickered slightly to suppress the urge.

"Great Lord Mammon! The best businessman in all of Purgatory, you misunderstand. I wasn’t defeated; rather... I encountered a supreme being!"

Sargeras praised loudly, his tone so sycophantic that even Allen, standing outside, raised an eyebrow. "I have followed a master whose greatness you cannot fathom! His wisdom is like a sea of stars, and his power is enough to reshape worlds! I, Sargeras, am now the lowliest servant under his command, yet I am entirely content with it!"

Mammon paused, seemingly unable to keep up with this bizarre thought process. He wondered what was going on. Had Sargeras been thoroughly broken? How was he deriving a sense of superiority from this?

Sargeras didn’t give him time to think. With a thought, he swept up the "Soul Coin" Allen had bestowed upon him and sacrificed it through the Array.

"This is a greeting gift from my great master! A... piece of unprecedentedly delicious food!"

"A Soul Coin? A clumsy forgery by a Wizard?" Mammon sneered disdainfully. One of his countless arms casually pinched the coin. "What good could come from a bunch of cowards who don’t even dare to enter Purgatory..."

To him, this was just another mortal soul harvested by Wizards. Every month, some penniless Black Wizards would steal "food" from others’ territories and resell it to him. But as the embodiment of greed, he instinctively swallowed the Soul Coin.

The next second.

HISS!

Mammon’s massive body, composed of billions of treasures, stiffened.

An incredibly pure burst of Soul Energy washed over his filthy, greedy Soul origin in an instant, like the very first ray of light at the dawn of creation.

There was no rejection from the Plane Law, no mental brand from a Caster, and no karmic entanglement... It was pure, refined, and perfect!

For a Demon, this was an unparalleled delicacy!

"This... this thing..." Mammon’s breathing grew heavy, and absolute greed erupted in his molten gold eyes as he stared fixedly at Sargeras’s remaining soul.

"Sargeras! Where did you get this?! What are the coordinates of that Wizard?!" Mammon’s Phantom instantly swelled as his greedy nature fully erupted. He had no intention of trading. The logic of a Demon consisted only of plunder and forceful seizure. "Hand over everything! Otherwise, I will cross realms right now and chew you up along with that Plane!"

A berserk pressure surged into the laboratory through the rift, triggering harsh, blaring alarms.

Sargeras was just about to speak.

BZZT.

The Communication Array before him, along with Mammon’s massive Phantom, extinguished without warning. Allen had severed the connection.

"Don’t rush," Allen’s voice echoed in Sargeras’s mind. "It’s a seller’s market right now."

Even if Mammon were given ten times the courage, he wouldn’t dare run wild in the Great Library Plane.

Sargeras’s Soul Flame throbbed violently with absolute awe.

Three minutes. Exactly three minutes later.

The Runes of the Communication Array lit up on their own without a sacrifice. An urgent will requested a reconnection.

Allen signaled Jarvis to accept the connection.

Mammon’s Phantom reappeared, looking somewhat battered. The Plane Level Defense Array of the Grand Library was not something to be trifled with. If he hadn’t reacted quickly and fled, he would have been obliterated straight through the connection.

This time, his massive body leaned slightly forward, assuming a posture of near equality.

"I don’t care which esteemed... powerhouse from the Gate of Truth is backing you now." Mammon’s voice carried a trace of suppressed longing. "Please forgive my earlier discourtesy. We... can discuss a trade regarding that commodity."

Under Allen’s instruction, Sargeras adopted the attitude of someone holding a rare commodity. "My master is very displeased with our previous exchange. He says that the Purgatory market seemingly doesn’t need his goods."

"No! It does! It absolutely does!" Mammon interrupted him urgently. "Name your price! Whatever the cost!"

"Ten thousand ’Soul Coins’," Sargeras quoted the number Allen had provided. "In exchange for one hundred thousand tons of refined Purgatory Demon Iron, and thirty tons of the associated ’Soul-Burning Crystal’."

"One hundred thousand tons?!" Mammon exclaimed. "You’re crazy! That requires hollowing out an entire mine!"

In Purgatory, there were many unmined mountains of Magic Iron. They were practically worthless, but the innate chaos and belligerence of Demons made mining and management costs exceedingly high.

"You may refuse." Sensing Mammon’s desperation, Sargeras immediately stiffened his posture. "My master says that across the ninety-nine floors of Purgatory, there will always be a buyer who knows a good deal."

That sentence became the last straw that broke the camel’s back. The mere thought of such a Perfect Soul falling into the hands of other Lords, especially his mortal enemies, made Mammon feel as though his own soul were being scorched by hellfire.

"...Fine! I agree!" Mammon calculated the costs and agreed through gritted teeth. "Simultaneous exchange!"

With the agreement reached, the Sacrificial Ceremony was activated once more.

Ten thousand Soul Coins, fresh off the Cybertron assembly line, were thrown into the Array and flowed toward the 7th Floor of Purgatory.

At almost the exact same time, space tore open at the other end of the Array. A mountain-like torrent of black metal ore poured out, mixed with countless crystals emitting an eerie red glow. Had Allen not stored them away quickly, the study would have almost collapsed under the weight.

The transaction was complete.

Mammon’s Phantom vanished into the Array, lingering with deep reluctance and greed.

From the observation deck, Jarvis’s voice sounded in Allen’s mind.

[Reporting to the Commander. Supplies have been stored: 101,342 tons of Purgatory Demon Iron, and 31.7 tons of Soul-Burning Crystal.]

[Cost accounting complete: Total production cost for 10,000 standard Soul Coins is 250,000 Low-Level Magic Stones.]

[Profit evaluation: Based on the average market price at the Seventh Cross-Realm Transfer Port, the total value of the traded goods is approximately 2.75 million Low-Level Magic Stones.]

[After deducting energy loss and computing power costs, the net profit for this transaction is approximately 10 times.]

A tenfold profit!

This was no longer just dumping goods; this was trading paper money for a gold mine!

However, Allen’s face showed no hint of being swept away by the ecstasy of such staggering profits. This bit of profit was just an appetizer. He still had a grand plan to complete.

Allen’s gaze fell back on the Soul Flame in the cage, which was visibly excited after its first successful negotiation.

"Sargeras."

"Here! My great master!"

"Contact Mammon," Allen ordered with unquestionable authority. "Tell him that I appreciate his boldness as my first client.

"I also hold a massive order worth tens of millions of souls. If he is interested, I would like to speak with him face-to-face."

The trap in Purgatory had been set.

Next, it was time to reap another set of "interest."

"Kaspar Murphy... I hope you’ll like my gift."

Sargeras’s soul trembled violently.

Tens of millions?! Face-to-face?!

Could it be that this new master intended to personally step foot into Purgatory?!

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