Harem Startup : The Demon Billionaire is on Vacation

Chapter 117 – Debt Collected

”You’re slowing down,” Lux whispered, eyes glowing. ”C’mon... entertain me more!”

He laughed. Not a chuckle. Not a battle cry.

A full, unhinged, teeth-baring laugh that echoed off the ruined chamber walls like a broken bell tower swinging in the wind.

He was having fun.

Real, genuine, violent fun.

Azion roared and twisted to throw him off—

But Lux was already moving.

He jumped—daggers flashing, boots kicking off Azion’s wing—and came down like a demon meteor.

Straight for the face.

”Smile for me,” Lux said.

And he plunged both daggers down—

Right into Azion’s eyes.

The sound was sickening. A wet, sizzling crunch as the blades sank through porcelain, through glass, through divine construct and light.

Azion screamed—not vocal cords, but soul. The scream rang through the glyphs embedded in the walls, warping the symbols into jagged curses.

Lux laughed harder.

He rode the force of Azion’s flailing, hands still gripping his embedded blades, eyes wild. Blood—if it could still be called that—splashed up over his forearms like glowing oil. It burned, but Lux didn’t care.

This was his.

His fight.

His moment.

Then—Azion threw him.

A raw burst of divine force exploded outward from the cracks in his mask, launching Lux backward like a cannonball.

Lux flew—arms flailing once, coatless, body twisting midair. He slammed into a broken wall, shattered through it, skidded across the floor in a blur of sparks and dust.

And then—

He backflipped.

Mid-slide. No hesitation.

Like a cat made of shadow and arrogance.

He landed on both feet with a thud, skidding to a stop, crouched low, blades dripping. He blinked once. Laughed again.

”Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said breathlessly. ”Finally waking up, are you?”

Azion stumbled forward, blood pouring from the shattered sockets where his eyes once glowed. His helm hissed, peeling in jagged chunks. Underneath—no face. Just searing lines of code, writhing holy light bleeding out of ruptured divinity.

Lux didn’t care.

He stood up fully and cracked his neck.

”Blind now, huh?” he taunted. ”Still got ears? ’Cause I got a lot more to say.”

Azion didn’t answer. But his aura flared. Wings snapped wide, damaged but defiant, casting long streaks of light that burned runes into the floor.

The halberd lifted.

Lux’s grin sharpened.

”Good,” he said. ”You’re finally pissed.”

He took two steps forward— Then lunged.

Fast. Unreasonably fast.

Azion swung wildly, halo flaring again with residual code, but Lux was under it before the arc completed. He dove low, rolled beneath the blade sweep, and came up into a vertical slash aimed straight at Azion’s ribs.

One blade hit.

The other was blocked.

Lux didn’t stop.

He kicked off Azion’s knee, springboarded onto his chest, and rammed a dagger into the glowing cavity beneath the collarbone.

Azion retaliated. A burst of raw divine heat blasted outward, burning Lux’s left arm—armor smoking, skin splitting—

But Lux bit through the pain.

Laughed again.

He pulled the dagger free with a twist and licked the ichor from the edge.

”Tastes like shame,” he muttered. ”You angels really haven’t changed.”

He jumped again, landing on Azion’s shoulder like a predator.

Azion tried to reach for him.

Lux ducked and stabbed down into the wing joint.

A snap echoed as bone—divine or not—broke.

Azion dropped to one knee.

Lux landed beside him, panting. Still grinning. Still utterly enjoying himself like he was on the world’s worst honeymoon.

”You came here to erase me,” he said, walking slowly, circling the broken Arbiter like a shark. ”To purify me. To prove I shouldn’t exist.”

He dragged a blade behind him, the edge leaving dark lines across marble now cracked and soaked in light-blood.

”But you know what, Azion?”

He paused behind the angel.

”I think you’re starting to realize...”

Lux leaned in close. Voice soft. Cold. Almost intimate.

”I was made for this.”

Azion, blind and bleeding, screamed again—one final flare of divine wrath erupting from his body like a dying sun.

Lux smiled.

And walked into it.

Like he belonged in the fire.

Like this was his altar.

His cathedral.

And every scream Azion gave him?

Was a prayer.

To him.

The Devil of Greed.

The one who didn’t run.

Didn’t bow.

Didn’t beg.

He only took.

And now— he lunged again.

For the final time.

The air around Lux shattered with a sound like broken glass and screaming violins. His daggers glowed with sin, dark heat wrapping around the edges in spiraling tendrils of lust-forged energy. His eyes, manic and beautiful, locked onto Azion’s flickering frame like a predator about to deliver mercy with a blade—and Lux had never believed in mercy.

Azion stood, barely. A broken statue made of dying light and fractured codes. His wings hung limp, scorched at the ends, and the divine matrix pulsing through his armor blinked like a failing heart monitor. There were no more words. No more scripture.

Only judgment.

But this time—it belonged to Lux.

He twisted mid-air, flipping with eerie grace, and brought both daggers down in an X. They carved into Azion’s chest with a shriek of metal tearing soul-threaded divine alloy.

The Arbiter’s head snapped back, a raw, voiceless cry ripping from where his throat should’ve been.

Lux landed on him.

On top of him.

His knees slammed into Azion’s shoulders, pinning him down. His blades didn’t stop. He hacked. Again. Again. A rhythm. Brutal and surgical.

Crack.

Crunch.

Split.

Laugh.

Azion’s chest burst open. Light poured out like liquid stardust, but Lux didn’t flinch. He shoved one dagger into the core—deep into the source of divine wrath.

And with a whisper, grinning through blood and steam, he said:

”Debt... collected.”

The core cracked.

Then collapsed.

A silent implosion. No fanfare. No angelic choir. No system-generated cinematic. Just the sound of breathing. Lux’s breathing. Harsh, steady, hungry.

Azion’s body disintegrated beneath him. Slowly. Light flaking off into the air like charred pages from a holy book.

[Boss Defeated: Archwitness Azion – Fallen Arbiter of Purity]

[Reward: +2 Levels]

[You are now level 262]

[Stat Growth Applied]

[Charisma: 999 (unchanged)]

[Magic Affinity: 1,030 (+4)]

[Strength: 770 (+4)]

[Agility: 890 (+2)]