Chapter 193: Hatred Crawling from Hell
What had once been a one-sided slaughter by the Seventy-Two Pillars of Demon Gods had now reversed. Thirteen incarnations of Mara Papiyas—the Demon Kings of Delusion—had emerged, and the tide turned violently. The battlefield, once dominated by Solomon's summoned gods, now became a graveyard of shattered divinity.
The sandbox world exploded.
Its destructive force, according to Heimdall's trembling voice, was enough to kill even a chief deity. Yet the thirteen Mara survived.
That meant one thing: these monsters had surpassed the power of ordinary gods.
Now, Solomon stood alone against thirteen beings, each at least divine-tier.
As they surged forward, the girls watching from the stands felt their hearts leap into their throats. But then—something impossible happened.
The Mara began to kill each other.
"Was that an illusion?" someone gasped.
"No," Kuroka whispered, her voice low and feline. "Not just illusion. He's manipulating space itself, meow~."
Solomon's mastery of sorcery was beyond comprehension. Kuroka had spent months learning spatial magic, hailed as a prodigy. Yet Solomon wielded it like breathing.
"A monster," she muttered. "A complete monster."
"He made them devour each other... and grew stronger?" Akeno's voice was grave. "That creature nearly destroyed the Underworld. It wasn't a bluff."
So what would Solomon do now?
The Seventy-Two Pillars had been overwhelmed. Would he transform?
Instead, he summoned only four.
Just four.
And yet, the moment they appeared, the Mara lunged to tear them apart.
"What?!"
"How did they get so strong?!"
Rias, Canna, and Revier stared in disbelief.
Four Mara were obliterated in an instant.
Heimdall explained: Solomon had summoned four Demon Gods from different timelines—layering their existences, amplifying their power exponentially. The result? A counterattack that shattered even transcendent-tier Mara.
But the battle wasn't over.
The fewer Mara remained, the stronger they became.
Three of them merged—devouring their own kind to evolve. The four Demon Gods were overwhelmed, losing limbs, torn apart.
Then Beelzebub, the Lord of Flies, released a swarm of grotesque insects. The Mara consumed them—and ascended again.
This time, even the gods watching turned pale.
"This feeling..." Canna whispered, sweat trailing down her cheek.
She had felt true fear once before—when Ophis appeared.
But this was worse.
Her body recoiled before her mind could process it.
The Mara's aura surpassed even Ophis.
If such a creature appeared in their world, it would be annihilation.
And yet, the worst was still to come.
According to prophecy, Satan would appear next—far more terrifying than Mara.
Sure enough, as one Mara tried to kill Beelzebub, it was devoured by his heart.
"What is this...?" Aisha's voice trembled.
Everyone stared as Beelzebub transformed.
His head twisted into a crown of warped horns. Eighteen wings unfurled—half angelic, half bat-like.
This was Satan.
Perhaps even a manifestation of the biblical God Himself.
Solomon responded.
The light of the Seventy-Two Pillars enveloped him.
Their divine shadows merged into his body.
And from that fusion emerged a new form.
The name echoed in every mind.
Goetia.
The God of Demon Gods.
The battlefield was now a clash between two Transcendent Dragon Gods.
The apocalypse had arrived.
But—
"This gap is insane, meow~!"
Kuroka's voice cracked.
Solomon struck twice.
Satan nearly died.
Even with the playback speed maxed out, Solomon's movements were invisible.
Not even the slowest frame could capture him.
Then Satan retaliated.
A massive black sphere erupted—swallowing the arena, threatening to consume the entire floating island.
But—
"What... what is that, meow...?"
For the first time, Kuroka's voice was filled with raw terror.
The black sphere was restrained.
Something bound it.
Her night vision allowed her to see it.
And what she saw froze her heart.
Tentacles.
Massive, grotesque tentacles.
Each lined with rows of crimson eyes.
She couldn't move.
She couldn't breathe.
Her heart felt gripped by icy claws.
"Big sis... what is that?" Byin whimpered, on the verge of tears.
Kuroka wanted to comfort her.
But she couldn't move.
"Kitten, what did you see?" Rias asked, holding her hand.
Byin leaned into her, trembling.
If not for Rias's support, she would have collapsed.
Rias squinted into the darkness.
The black sphere was being held by something massive.
And then—red light.
The tentacles glowed.
Each suction cup was an eye.
A wall of eyes.
A wall of hatred.
"Aisha... what's wrong?"
Revier turned to the nun, who was frozen in horror.
"I see... people," Aisha whispered.
"What?"
"Too many... too many people. No, not people. Spirits. Souls. Wrathful souls. Hatred. Hatred for the Lord. So many... so many... so many..."
Slap!
Revier struck her.
Aisha's trance broke.
She had been repeating the same words, lost in terror.
"Calm down!"
Revier hugged her tightly.
Aisha was on the verge of a breakdown.
"What did you see?"
"Spirits? Hatred for the Lord?"
Canna and Rias were confused—but deeply unsettled.
Even Kuroka was stammering.
And Aisha's words—hatred for the Lord—suggested something horrifying.
The Lord here referred to the biblical God.
"What's happening...?"
Akeno's voice faltered.
She stared at the screen.
The live broadcast showed the arena—no, the floating island—suspended in a twisted dimension.
Akeno recognized it.
Solomon had used this space before—to kill the Moon King.
Now, he sat upon a throne in a temple.
But what terrified Akeno wasn't Solomon.
It was the pillars.
Pillars made of people.
Not hundreds.
Not thousands.
Tens of thousands.
Human bodies fused into massive tentacles.
And the tips of those tentacles were holding the black sphere—Chaos the False God.
Were the pillars Satan's creation?
No.
Suddenly, Akeno's vision shifted.
She saw disaster.
Humanity perishing.
Floods drowning cities.
Plagues ravaging bodies.
Famines starving nations.
Volcanoes incinerating the land.
It wasn't nature.
It was divine punishment.
No—God's cruelty.
These weren't trials.
They were executions.
God's so-called trials were never requested by humanity.
They were imposed.
Forced.
Justified as "growth."
But they only brought death.
The people who formed the tentacles—who climbed from Hell—were victims.
Victims of divine arrogance.
They had died without understanding.
And now, they had returned.
To take revenge.
Their target?
The Lord of Heaven.
They had been sacrificed for meaningless trials.
Now they were wrath incarnate.
Hatred given form.
And they would not be denied.