The very instant the tide of chaos breached the Grand Temple of Time, a faint smile blossomed on the young man's face.
"Looks like you're about to die."
"Goetia."
This wasn't just trash talk; it was a statement of fact.
The moment the Grand Temple of Time was destroyed, Goetia's body began to collapse.
The so-called Demon God Pillars were magical formulas created by Solomon to guide humanity's proper development. As servants of humanity, they would perish if they were not bound to a human host.
And now, Solomon's remains, which they had inhabited and remodeled into the Grand Temple of Time, had been destroyed.
He was currently without a host.
If he could not find a new place to reside within a set amount of time, he would cease to exist.
The powerful Beast of Pity, in a state approaching his ultimate form, was now infinitely close to death for this almost laughable reason.
"You destroyed my second Noble Phantasm."
But Goetia's expression was as placid as ever.
The destruction of the Grand Temple of Time was a fatal wound, yes. But a fatal wound, so long as it received emergency treatment within a certain time, could still be healed, could it not?
With this thought, Goetia's gaze as he sized up a certain someone became playful.
Goetia's immortality came from a host body.
And there was no rule stating that the host body had to be King Solomon.
"To be able to push me to this point, you are quite an outstanding existence. One might even say you are among the finest beings on this entire planet."
"You are a man worthy of my, Goetia's, respect."
He was truly cornered. If he were to be killed now, he would perish in the truest sense of the word. The Demon God's eyes grew cold.
"You flatter me."
The young man could clearly feel the power of the solar ring in the sky intensifying, threatening to overwhelm Indra's spear, yet he made no move to draw more power from the tide of chaos to counter it.
It would be meaningless.
Karna did indeed have a battle record of trading his life to take down the juvenile, first-stage form of the White Titan. However, that was the absolute limit of a normal Vasavi Shakti.
The terrifying aspect of the White Titan was not its skeleton that could withstand the temperature of a star, but its ability to constantly grow, multiplying its combat power by a factor of ten with each new stage.
Even at maximum deployment, a standard Vasavi Shakti could, at its very limit, only achieve a mutual kill with the first-stage White Titan.
Compared to the power of Zeus, the king of the fifth Lostbelt—who forcibly seized the powers of the other eleven major gods to repel a significantly developed White Titan—Karna's feat was not even worth mentioning.
And a Beast, with normal development, was far more terrifying than any Lostbelt King.
If the Beast of Pity, Goetia, were to abandon his wish to reach the birth of the world and unleash his third Noble Phantasm, his power would surpass even that of the Machine God Zeus!
Goetia, having lost his immortality, was now in his most dangerous state.
If he decided to destroy the world, no one on the planet, aside from himself, could stop him.
Not even Tiamat, his fellow Beast.
"You are perfectly qualified to serve as my new vessel."
The Demon God, truly backed into a corner, looked at the young man who had destroyed the foundation of his immortality—the remains of Solomon—and his voice took on a tinge of arrogance.
"This useless chatter should come to an end."
"Now, then, let me take your three remaining lives and use your body to build a new temple."
As if pronouncing a verdict, endless flames seemed to burn within the eyes of the Demon God, who was in desperate need of a vessel.
In response, his Noble Phantasm unleashed a heat so intense it seemed poised to burn the entire Sumerian plain to cinders.
He had become completely, utterly serious.
"My respectable enemy."
"From this day forward, I shall reign over this planet with your face and your body!!"
The King of the Demon Gods, who would perish if he could not find a new body to inhabit, roared his declaration.
He would kill the man who had driven him to this precipice and forge a new vessel from his corpse.
"Behold our grand work, our ideal, the true meaning of our birth! This planet will soon be reborn, and all life shall become a thing of the past!"
"Sing our praises! Our name is Goetia! The Ritual for the Incineration of the Human Order, the King of Demon Gods, Goetia, is here!"
That was the incantation to release his Noble Phantasm.
Once successfully unleashed, he could easily defeat any enemy before him, crushing them into flying ash.
However—
The band of light hanging high in the sky remained completely unresponsive.
What… happened?
Completely unable to comprehend why his Noble Phantasm was disobeying his command, a storm erupted in Goetia's mind.
He quickly understood the reason.
Bael refused to release the Noble Phantasm.
Valefor refused to release the Noble Phantasm.
Amon refused to release the Noble Phantasm.
Barbatos refused to release the Noble Phantasm.
Paimon refused to release the Noble Phantasm.
…
Nearly half of the Demon God Pillars that constituted his very being were refusing to unleash the Noble Phantasm.
And each pillar was a vital component of him; each one was "Goetia."
"Goetia" was refusing to release the Noble Phantasm.
The Greek horse had, after all, entered the city of Troy.
"It seems that it is I who will be killing a respectable enemy, and then I will turn all that you are into nourishment to advance even further."
The young man's tone was remarkably gentle as he swung the arm that, at some unknown point, had come to grip a demonic sword from a Celtic god-king.
While Goetia was still reeling in shock, the young man, a demonic sword now in his hand, severed his arm.
Then, an immense gravity descended.
A gravitational force equivalent to a mountain peak slammed him viciously to the ground.
Pseudo-Herrscher of Rock: Gravity Domain.
"My apologies for the trouble, Ling."
The young man, who had simulated the Authority of the Herrscher of Rock, picked up the severed arm and removed the tenth ring.
"Tch— This is the last time I'm helping you."
A cloud of black and red mist rose from the ring.
A girl with an exquisite little face full of impatience spoke.
"Don't come to me with this kind of troublesome business in the future."
"I know, I know."
The young man scratched his head, speaking as if embarrassed.
"I'll treat you to some fried tofu puffs some other day."
Then, he turned his gaze to the Beast of Pity, pinned to the ground by the domain of gravity.
"Now, then, allow me to send you off in the most brilliant way possible."
The sword named Ea was brought forth.
It was a weapon from an age older than man or planet, wielded by the gods to cleave the world into existence, a materialization of pure power itself.
The power symbolizing the beginning and the end, it sundered the void to create the heavens, and pierced the heavens to return to the void.
"A weapon such as this is a fitting end for you, is it not?"
The young man said with a smile.
Then, he swung the sword.
And then—
"Enuma Elish: The Star of Creation that Split Heaven and Earth!"