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<Free the souls of the oppressed to upgrade Soul Master Title>

Lenny's eyes brightened at this.

Truly, the Satan system always knew how to encourage him to work even harder.

Then again, he was not complaining.

After all, this was the way of life that he loved the most.

As a Soul master, he could already command souls that he killed at will.

He really wondered what he would gain next.

Lenny legs absence of shoes suddenly applied pressure on where he stood.

His muscles tightened, and his veins snaked about his firm legs in absolute readiness.

*Boom!*

These Magistris might have sworn that they heard a Sonic boom the moment he moved.

Whether it was his speed that caused it or the force by which he exerted on the ground to move.

Neither was known except two things.

Firstly, the point he stood formerly was a metallic.

However, it was now deformed from both weight and the heat from his swords that had been bathed with the white flames.

Secondly, all they could see was a white-flaming wind pass by them.

Most of these Magistris were just Rank one and Rank two.

They were nothing before him.

And his Massacre was going to be proof of that theory.

Lenny's steps were Rhythmic, and in perfect sync with every swing of his blade.

His hands applied just the right pressure at just the right time, never using too much force but just the right amount in locations that would either immediately kill his opponents or leave them unable to battle any longer.

Right here, right now, his discipline achieved over a long mind and body training period was showing its productivity in the sharp dance of both body and blades.

Even though he used two swords and swung them in the air like a crazed madman, his blades did not for a single moment clash with one another.

Many times, it seemed like they would hit, but then by a fraction of a margin, they would miss, never crashing against each other.

It was like some divine hands, careful with it's puppet were guiding his every swing.

All around, he waved them to the glorious display of effective slaughter.

His blades cut through everything.

Whether it was flesh, or bones, his cleaving liberated everything that had togetherness.

Not even the blood whips in their hands was above this.

With the way Lenny mowed through them, it was easy to believe that they did not attack or defend themselves.

But could a piece of paper defend itself against the blades of a scissors?

This was a very rhetorical question.

It was like expecting rain to fall but not touch the ground, hovering in the air.

Such insult to common sense was not in THIS reality.I think you should take a look at

As such, all their efforts was in vain.

Nothing worked against him.

Lenny was just too fast for their attacks to reach him, and his chaotic dance too disorganized for their eyes and other senses to fully comprehend his movements.

Any one looking from afar would only see the after image of two flaming swords cutting through endless flesh, submitting themselves for the old butcher's unforgiving hands.

One such person, looked below from the height of the balcony.

It was none other than the Magistri. The first and original.

It was the one of rank 5 Lesser demon rank strength.

The same one that had planned with Lenny for an escape with the heart of the pheonix, but was unfortunately unable to escape the unforgiving bind by the blood in his veins.

To destroy all hopes that he had, Cuban had not just given him a beating, but a thorough thrashing.

After which, he smashed his head to bits of blood, and brain matter meat paste.

And then to ensure that the message was clear, Cuban had used his blood to bring him back to life.

Such was his unfortunate fate.

What Cuban had done, was the most convincing display of power and control.

There was no doubt that what Cuban did eliminated any form of 'sparking' hope that still lingered in his heart.

All forms of doubt on who was boss was washed away like a land slide.

Every ounce of disobedience flushed down the drain.

When the untreatable hunger for Orgasmic release had began in the Arena, this lesser demon rank 5 Magistri had rushed to see what was happening.

After all, a good number of demons had come to report the case at his door.

It was for this reason that Lenny and A222 had not met him when they arrived.

However, while he was trying to maintain peace in the Arena as it was his duty, the alarm in this place was set off.

This alarm was only put in place on the off condition that something was ever wrong with any Magistri in the pods.

 The Magistri was in charge of holding the two bargaining chips that were Lenny's teammates.

Normally, he would not put them in the pods, but he had a faint feeling that something was wrong and decided to place a trap.

After all, no matter how bad things were, Lenny, he thought only had rank 2 lesser demon strength.

That was nothing to him.

The gap between one rank and another was a great chasm. One that was not so easily crossed or closed up.

He had placed some rank 3s, well hidden to serve as a trap.

But now, he could clearly seen that he was mistaken.

After all, at this moment, Lenny's blades did not care for ranks.

Everything and anything that was weaker than him was butchered down.

But that was not all.

Everywhere Lenny passed had white flames burning behind and around him.

These white tongue of flames were even capable of burning the Magistris, not leaving the opportunity for them to heal.

This was true and total destruction. They were burnt like their skin was made of paper.