Chapter 083: The Demon God Among Demon Gods—The Demon God King
His body was covered in countless magic circles, but this was actually to reinforce it.
Because he needed to widen the rift further, these magic circles were necessary to strengthen both his body and soul.
What was with the abnormally extending horns on his head?
They looked less like horns and more like branching tree limbs—yet they gave off an eerie feeling.
Upon closer inspection, his body had already surpassed the limits of human physique.
Could it even be called a humanoid form anymore? It was more like a monstrous figure.
Suddenly, cracks appeared in the layered magic circles.
All who witnessed this cast glances filled with both hope and unease.
Hope that Solomon's transformation would bring them salvation.
Unease that their expectations might be shattered.
The overlapping magic circles instantly swelled into a spherical shape, then shattered like glass, fragmenting into countless pieces before dissolving into motes of light that vanished into the air.
At that moment, what appeared before everyone's eyes was Solomon—
"W-what is this?!"
A hoarse, almost voiceless cry escaped Göll's lips.
In the trembling crystalline reflection of her eyes, the figure was humanoid, yet its form was anything but human.
It was a monster—with horns resembling branching antlers sprouting from either side of its head, wreathed in flames that held a strange beauty. But paired with the horrifying figure, it only added to the eerie aura.
What terrified her most was the enormous single eye on its chest. Even a fleeting glance, even if the eye wasn't looking at her, gave the illusion of being stared into by an abyss—as if she were about to be dragged into its depths.
But could something like this really defeat Satan?
King Solomon, transformed like this, didn't exude any overwhelming presence.
There was no terrifying surge of magic, no cataclysmic upheaval of the heavens and earth. It all seemed oddly calm, as if the only change was his demonic appearance.
If his aura had matched Satan's, Göll might have felt some confidence.
"BOOM—!"
A sudden deafening roar shook the entire arena, as if the coliseum itself had leaped. A massive cloud of dust erupted from where Solomon stood.
What had happened? It seemed Satan had launched an attack.
The slow-motion replay confirmed it—Satan had indeed lunged forward.
The dust rose swiftly but dissipated just as fast, leaving everyone straining their eyes in tense anticipation. What would they see?
The sight was—!
"Wha—!"
"No... no way—!"
"How—!"
Gasps of disbelief filled the air. King Solomon had caught Satan's hand mid-strike—the very hand that had been moments away from piercing his skull.
It was as if Satan's attack couldn't even budge him. In fact, Solomon hadn't moved an inch, standing firm and unshaken.
Suddenly, a sharp blade shot out from Satan's hand, piercing straight through Solomon's head—or so it seemed. But it had only struck an afterimage. Solomon's head had tilted slightly to the side, evading the strike effortlessly.
Then, with what seemed like a gentle flick of his wrist, Solomon twisted Satan's captured hand—and it came apart as if molded from clay.
The sheer contrast left both gods and humans stunned.
Just a second ago, Satan—the being who had struck fear into the hearts of gods and mortals alike, who had threatened to plunge the heavens into darkness, who had even made the chief gods feel their lives were in peril—now had a part of his body shattered by a mere touch from King Solomon.
It was as if Satan was nothing more than a hollow shell, all bark and no bite.
"My apologies. I didn't expect you to be so... fragile."
The moment his arm was severed, Satan recoiled violently, putting distance between himself and Solomon.
"You—what the hell are you?!"
Satan's voice was a mix of rage and barely suppressed terror, like the growl of a beast cornered by danger.
To most, it had looked like Solomon had merely squeezed and pulled his hand. But only Satan knew the true horror—Solomon had grasped something intangible, something as vast as space itself.
That was why his arm had crumbled like clay.
Now, as Satan took a closer look at Solomon's transformed state, his unease deepened.
His instincts screamed at him—run, or die.
What a joke!
Just moments ago, he had been in an arrogant, domineering state, making countless gods tremble in fear under the terror he unleashed.
Now he was supposed to tuck his tail between his legs and flee in disgrace?
"This form is Goetia."
Without further explanation, King Solomon, who had uttered these words, appeared abruptly before Satan.
Before he could react—and even as he did—he found most of his vision blocked. It was because King Solomon's hand had seized his face and lifted him up.
"Hmm?"
The head was cleanly severed from the body, as if King Solomon had once again failed to control his strength, tearing the head off.
At the same time, the headless body of Satan vanished, reappearing high in the sky.
The wings on his back were producing an abnormally intense buzzing sound, like the fluttering of a fly's wings.
Some of the chief gods realized it wasn't King Solomon who had ripped Satan's head off—it was Satan himself, desperately breaking free and fleeing at full speed, leaving his head behind as it was crushed in the grip.
Thus, the gods were even more awestruck by King Solomon's current power—so overwhelming that even Satan feared him.
So, what exactly was this form called Goetia?
Had the overlapping phantoms of the Seventy-Two Demon Gods just manifested into this?
Had King Solomon demonized himself?
He had become a Demon God—no, not just any Demon God, but one that surpassed their understanding.
This was the Demon God among Demon Gods, one that could be called—the Demon God King!
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