In the Underworld, where the breath of life has nearly ceased, Trihexa lets out a sigh. Perhaps due to the hellish flames, its breath feels scalding.
"You're not going, Beast of Revelation?"
Gazing at the spot where Goetia stood moments ago, Karna questions Trihexa.
"Nah, I'd just get in the way. But, just maybe, did you predict this situation?"
"This outcome was one of the roughly anticipated scenarios. This time, our Master was too often outmaneuvered by others. That's why he prepared countless strategies to win by striking last. It seems this event fits one of those predictions."
"Smart guys are something else," Trihexa sighs. As an incarnation of violence and destruction, born from negative emotions, such foresight is beyond it.
"So, I'll leave the rest to you. Don't wanna add to my dark history. …Ugh, why did I call him Dad?"
"It was inevitable, Beast of Revelation. You placed expectations on humanity, and they surpassed them. Naturally, you placed expectations on your father too. Perhaps that man is a better human than you've long believed."
"Ewww!"
Trihexa groans in disgust, but no words of denial come to mind. Lacking a counterargument but loath to admit it, it changes the subject.
"By the way, shouldn't you finish him off?"
"This man is a king. As such, he has the right to speak his final words. And as one who has already slain two Satans, I have the duty to hear the last Satan's words. I bear the responsibility to witness his end and pass it on."
At the end of Trihexa and Karna's gazes lies the dying Sirzechs Lucifer. The strongest Satan, a mutant said to be ten times stronger than the former Lucifer, is now so broken he could be killed by a mere insect.
"Why?"
Despite his state, Sirzechs cries out, his voice laced with anguish, railing against this unjust tragedy. He despairs over the deaths of Ajuka and Serafall, reduced to ashes with no remains.
"I only wanted to protect devils, to protect the Underworld. I only wanted peace for our race. Everyone seeks peace. No one wants their loved ones to die. That's all I wanted. That's all we've done. What's wrong with that—?!"
"Only those who love you desire the peace you speak of."
It's true, but the hero of charity points out its manifold errors.
"Those you wished to join hands with desired your ruin. You only showed your love, never seeking to understand others'. This outcome was inevitable."
Your love can't save a nameless stranger. If you have no intent to save them, your love can't bring peace. You built your peace by stealing it from others, never caring for those made unhappy by it. You extended your hand only to those who affirmed your peace.
Saying everyone desires peace is, in a sense, true. But some deem your happy existence itself as unpeaceful.
"You devils half-heartedly mimic humans, but it's impossible. Human methods won't work for devils—or the world of mythologies. There's a fatal difference between humans and us: lifespan."
Trihexa speaks.
"A short lifespan isn't all bad. Quick generational shifts mean quick changes in values. That's why humans can forget the past, discard old grudges and ancestors' feuds. Sure, they often inherit pointless baggage too. But devils? It's different. Listen—the perpetrators are still alive."
Victims and culprits still live. The biblical faction's subjects were killed, treasures stolen, lands defiled, mythologies demeaned, and pride erased. The gods and demons of other mythologies weren't destroyed. Odin, Zeus, Indra—they're alive. Until Solomon's 72 Pillars attacked, the original 72 Pillars were alive too. Even non-original veteran devils were alive until just now.
"Saying 'let's get along because gods and Satans are dead' doesn't cut it. Only devils have generational shifts despite long lifespans. Azazel and Michael haven't changed roles since the primordial era."
Indeed, devils had their original 72 Pillars alive in modern times. Their lifespan is ten thousand years, yet they've cycled through generations. Retired devils meddle in politics, yet their values shifted. They tried to forget their sins, leaving other mythologies behind. Such irresponsible evolution is unforgivable.
"Stop disgracing yourselves, devils. Be swiftly erased by those who should do it."
"See ya, fake Satan. If you want to play nice, be reborn somewhere like Goetia and the others."
"No—not yet! It's not just me. Young devils like Rias remain in the human world! No, before that—I can't forgive you who destroyed us! For the past and future, I'll at least take you down with me…!"
As if answering Sirzechs's words, the supposedly dead Beelzebub stirs.
That day, that moment, a piercing headache struck every human on the planet.
Regardless of gender, age, beauty, wealth, ethnicity, nation, profession, ability, or faith. During meals, sleep, or baths—without mercy. Sick or criminal, no distinction. Knowing or ignorant of the world's underbelly, no exception. Literally, every human was hit by this headache.
"People of the world, do you hear my voice?"
With the headache, a voice resounded.
"My name is Solomon. Human Order Denial Formula: One God Solomon."
Most humans thought, "Why?" Why does an ancient Israelite king claim godhood? But before the question could form, the god commands, issuing a trial in God's name.
"Suddenly, I will destroy humanity. I am humanity's enemy, your irreconcilable foe. Fight me. Challenge me. Defeat me."
This is a revelation.
"You who clung to kings and gods have the responsibility to fight. Humanity, which used the right to pray, has the duty to overthrow gods and evolve. No one is exempt."
If the voice Jeanne d'Arc heard was the same, she could never have fled war. Not because it was holy or just, but because it was unbearably heavy and painful.
"Fight. Don't flee. Fight. Fight. Don't give up. Fight. Fight. Fight. Don't fear. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Don't rely on others. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Join hands. Fight. Look forward. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Don't look down. Fight. Fight. Fight. Don't despair. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Don't turn away. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Don't sit. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight! Fight!! You must fight! Prove your worth by fighting! Seize your era by defeating me! So fight! Fight until you die, fight even after death! Keep fighting even through endless deaths! If you don't want to perish, defeat me even if it means perishing!"
How unjust. Yet people have no means to resist. No, fundamentally, they can't resist this headache. The pain forbids even screaming, leaving no freedom to respond, no chance to refuse.
The One God's curse targeted all humanity.
"Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight!"
But—
"There's no need for that," a voice rings out, and the headache vanishes.
"They don't need to challenge you. You end here."
Goetia teleported to Heaven.
Greeting him is the One God Solomon—not the father of the Bible, but the newest god, born moments ago. Once called the King of Magecraft, now the most sinful beast of this star.
"You're late, Goetia… Or was Heaven's barrier structure too troublesome?"
Ignoring Solomon's call, Goetia turns his gaze to two others.
"What a mess, Goddess of the Spear."
Likely resisting Solomon until just before Goetia's arrival, the goddess Rhongomyniad and the Seraph Gabriel are there. Gabriel lies unconscious, not even groaning. The goddess shields the angel but is bloodied herself.
"Confirming: is my spear needed?"
"No need. You said a united front was impossible. In that state, you'd only be a hindrance. Soon, someone we know will come for your head. Wash your neck and wait for their challenge."
"I see. I wanted to thwart your scheme myself, for old debts."
"If you mean the Sixth Singularity, that was your own doing. The result is laughable."
With Goetia's words at her back, the goddess leaves, taking the unconscious Gabriel.
Solomon lets the goddess and Seraph escape without stopping them, then looks at Goetia. Goetia meets his gaze.
"Welcome, Goetia. One last chance—won't you guide humanity with me?"
"…"
"You could do it. Not as the Demon God King, but as the King of Men. You turned the modern holy lance's wielder into such a man in just half a year. So—"
"I refuse."
Goetia cuts Solomon off, dismissing the conversation as a waste of time.
"I'd rather perish here today than entertain your delusions further. That's why we—no, I—came here."
"Yeah, figured as much."
Solomon expected this answer but hoped Goetia would affirm his ideal. In the end, they part ways. But that's inevitable. Goetia didn't sacrifice himself to destroy human history but to protect it. That's the only atonement Solomon can offer.
"Let me say this: defeating me with your first Noble Phantasm is impossible. Not because I ascended to godhood—your rings aren't mine. They worked on Trihexa, born similarly, but they can't take me down."
"Indeed. We have no intention of returning the rings. With a god as the enemy and Heaven as the battlefield, reenacting the return would be absurd."
"Right. So, you'll use that? The light band that burns the star. Third Noble Phantasm, Original Sin I! Just as you have it, I have a Noble Phantasm. The strongest, bearing the name of the grimoires I left behind!"
The Goetia of demons. The Theurgia-Goetia of demons and spirits. The Ars Almadel Salomonis of spirits. The Ars Paulina of stars and spirits. The Ars Nova of prayer. Collectively, Solomon's Lesser Key, or Lemegeton.
The true nature of the curse Solomon left to posterity. The truth of the Age of Gods' distortion.
"Prove it, Goetia. That my—humanity's—three thousand years won't lose to hell's lifeforms!"
Humans didn't lose to mere devils. Fallen angels were no match. Humans were above them, and I'll prove it by trampling their deaths!
"Keep barking. You can't win against anyone, start to finish. Clinging to three thousand years as a mere human!"
Your era ended long ago. Your throne was inherited. Anything more is redundant. Even dreaming is a mistake.
"Know my ideal, the truth of my life. All for your future—to reach a wondrous future, somewhere not here!"
"Then behold—the end of your delusion, the moment of Biblical Revision—our answer to humanity's salvation! Third Noble Phantasm, reenacted. Burn to ashes like chaff!"
The One God, risen from King of Magecraft, and the King of Men, turned from Demon God King, unleash their trump cards.
"True Lemegeton: Truth to the Future!"
A law-distorting cosmos pries open a dimensional hole.
What spills out is something unclassifiable. A distortion. A friction. Waste. Dark matter. Or the King of Magecraft's curse.
"Ars Almadel Salomonis: The Time of Birth Has Come, He Who Masters All!"
A light band that burns planets. The heat gained by sacrificing a world's life. Goetia redirects this immense energy solely for this attack, piercing the dimensional distortion with star-destroying heat.
Heaven itself warps. Literally, the sky splits. The clash of Kingu and Rhongomyniad in Solomon's Reality Marble pales in comparison to this energy collision.
But it lasts only a moment.
"What…?"
"—!"
Standing is Solomon; kneeling is Goetia. The King of Men's visage lacks vigor, near death—more broken than before his final battle with Ritsuka Fujimaru in the Temple of Time.
Yet, seeing Goetia, Solomon tilts his head.
"Hm? Hmm? That's odd. It shouldn't be this easy to win."
Anticlimactic. Not quite disappointing, but something chilling runs down Solomon's spine.
Did he lose on purpose? A distraction? An Assassin lurking behind? No. No. No. Then why take the attack head-on? Why confront me directly? What's the reason for striking the third Noble Phantasm into Truth? What did I miss? What did the One God overlook?
"Haha, this turn of events is unexpected. But this is exactly what we sought. At this point, stalling achieves the plan. Just a bit longer, indulge me."
"What does that mean—"
Suspicious, Solomon tries to ask, but—
"—GIAAAAAA!?!?!?!?!?"
A scream erupts from the god's mouth.
"Ah, AAAAAA!? Gah, hng, hngh, AAAAAAAA! What, what is this!? Gii, hi, hiii! U, uuu, uuaaa, AAA!?"
Agony assaults his body, as if devoured from within. A venomous snake's bite, skin festering instantly.
Solomon's absolute godhood, Truth, crumbles from the inside.
"So it was that level of integration. I thought it was metaphorical, but… you house the Truth formula within your body?"
"Goetia! What did you do to me—to Truth—!?"
Even as he asks, Solomon understands. He knows what's happening, that Goetia is interfering with him, with Truth, with this world's laws. He grasps, beyond reason, what Goetia intends. But he can't accept it—because if his understanding is correct, it means the collapse of his ideal.
"Long ago, my body and the 72 Demon Gods were corroded by the God of the Bible's curse. We dealt with it by feeding it to Ophis's Snake, but disposing of the Snake was tricky. We couldn't return it to Ophis. So, using it was the natural conclusion. If the God of the Bible revived, we'd make it consume this."
Enduring the agony of his body being ravaged, Solomon glares at Goetia.
"…I've always been good at repurposing. I never imagined using it like this."
The strategy's turning point was whether Beast X would attack with Truth. More precisely, whether Truth would be opened. Specifically—whether there was a gap to interfere with Truth's interior.
They bet Solomon, not the God of the Bible, would use it. Having seen that battle—the moment the White Castle blocked the third Noble Phantasm—they were certain a king who witnessed it would crave a clash of Noble Phantasms.
So, instead of countering the attack, they injected the curse. Just as he once did to humanity.
"Against the God of the Bible, this might not have worked. But in the Temple of Time, it was clear you were fixated on our world, our deeds, our battle. We didn't know how much you saw of the God of the Bible, but it was obvious you saw that Temple of Time battle. It was just a hunch, no proof… but a man who became a Guardian somewhere taught us. Not that he meant to."
Cao Cao. A man born with the blood of a Three Kingdoms hero, wielding a god-slaying holy lance. Forced into a turbulent life by his unique qualities.
In a parallel world, he fought on after Goetia and the Demon Pillars fell. He could've given up, fled. But he fought, persevered. He spoke humbly, but he protected things. His absence would've been a loss.
Proof: he had a successor, Savior, like the doctor or Ritsuka Fujimaru.
Cao Cao once said he was grateful for meeting Goetia and the Professor, whatever their intentions. Jeanne and Heracles said they changed too. But no—we were saved by your existence.
Good. Truly good. We've etched a mark of our deeds in this universe.
"You god with the same name as that man. I'll rewrite the curse you placed on this universe's humanity."
Far from the intended result, far from the chosen path, with unforeseen obstacles and sacrifices, not without regrets, fears, or dissatisfaction.
Still, we—I—can finally reach the end.
"Goetia… do you realize what you, what you all, are doing? You haven't just demeaned this star's three thousand years. You're ruining its future! You're stealing the possibilities I, we, built!?"
As the god's existence distorts, Heaven and the System begin to collapse, like a sandcastle crumbling.
"No, do you even think this is possible? The formula you based this on was just a modified version of what I used to control this world's 72 Pillars. It's merely an extension of puppetry."
No matter how advanced the tool, its capability depends on the user. Even with infinite mountain-crushing drills, you can't destroy a star. What Goetia attempts is that reckless.
"No matter how superior your magical formula, there's a processing limit. To think the 72 Demon Pillars, mere Human Order Correction Formulas that abandoned their role, could handle my Truth, our universe!?"
"Yes, the current success rate is 12%. Any fool can understand what that means. As long as it's not negative, success is certain!"
The One God Solomon's face lacks a smile—not the usual rage-filled grin, but pure, seething fury.
In response, Goetia rises, smiling.
"Come at me, One God. As you wish, I'll reenact that battle. This time, let me—us—win and escape…!"
"GOETIAAAAAAAAA!"
"If you win, start over. But if we win, your delusion ends here. Either way—"
—The concept of the Evil of Humanity will be erased from this universe.
An end to this self-righteous, pitiful evolution.
Note:
The path is set.
No upsets will occur.
The board won't flip.
No outlandish events will arise.
Only natural phenomena will be seen.
Only a natural conclusion will come.
No shocking truths will be revealed.
A scripted, perfunctory match.
If that's fine, join us for about six more chapters.
***
If you enjoyed this story, don't forget to drop 5 stars and your power stone. And if you want to read more than 70 chapters in advance, feel free to visit: pat reon . com / KangTL