Chapter 671
The First Demon King Reappears!
The entire process took place under the silent gaze of hundreds of thousands of people, and under the cold stare of the gods high in the sky.
Roosevelt's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a blunt knife, cutting into the hearts of all the members of the House of Nobles of the Middle Empire.
Far away in the central empire, deep within the luxurious and majestic imperial palace.
Shanes Klein, the young empress, is watching everything happening on the Florentine Plains through a giant magical prism.
As Roosevelt began to fulfill the bet, the magical contract lights, representing enormous wealth, significant power, and strategic resources, traversed a vast distance and plunged directly into a pre-prepared receiving ring before her...
A torrent of intense emotions assaulted her defenses.
Sanes had unparalleled confidence in her lover, but when these core assets, which she had once dreamed of but which were held tightly by the House of Nobles and regarded as their exclusive possessions, actually poured into her hands in this way, the shock still exceeded her imagination.
This is not just a resource, but a key factor in shifting the balance of power within the empire, and the crucial key for her to break free from the control of the House of Nobles and truly seize the reins of the empire!
Shanis's gaze involuntarily fell once again upon the prism, upon the black figure standing calmly in the center of the ring, dominating all around with his own strength.
His eyes welled up with an overwhelming tenderness and love, mixed with intense admiration and gratitude.
She wanted to fly to his side immediately, abandon all the reserve and majesty of an empress, and use everything she had to thank him and possess him...
Shanis took a few deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down, but her slightly trembling fingertips and flushed cheeks still betrayed the turmoil in her heart.
She raised her hand and gently stroked the ring before her, which continuously received the light of the contract, her gaze never leaving Cohen's figure in the prism, and murmured affectionately:
“My…knight…”
Next up is Drummond Quinn of the Southern Empire.
He dared not delay for a moment and took out several scrolls marked with complex sea charts and magical seals.
Gritting his teeth, he handed the scrolls over to Isabella, who came to receive them, and these overseas assets were temporarily transferred to the Pale Wings.
At the same time, under the witness and constraint of an invisible divine power of the God of Contracts, a phantom of a magical contract shimmering with golden divine runes appeared in the air.
The terms are very clear: The Southern Empire and all its affiliated forces permanently relinquish all sovereignty claims over these handed-over islands and shall not, for any reason or in any form, demand or seize them by force. Violators will be punished by the God of the Contract.
Drummond's face looked even more unsightly under the light of the contract.
Finally, there's Gnus Don.
His actions were relatively simple, but their impact was perhaps the most profound.
He drew the seemingly ordinary longsword from his waist and lightly touched the air with the tip of the sword.
A pure and refined sword intent mixed with his demigod aura, condensing in the air into a contract document composed purely of spiritual power and rules.
The document's content was simple, yet it left Xia Zuo's face ashen:
I, Grenus Tang, swear by my demigod status that from this moment on, I will never again interfere in, intervene in, or influence the struggle for the throne of the Eastern Empire in any form. If I violate this oath, my status will be revoked!
The radiance of the God of Contracts shone down, imprinting this special oath and contract with an inviolable mark.
The light merged into Grenus's brow, forming a tiny but clear mark of the covenant.
Inside the palace of Princess Grace of the Eastern Empire.
Grace was also watching everything through the magical images.
When she saw Grenus truly make his vow under the witness of the God of Contracts, and saw the light representing the bond merge into Grenus's brow, her long-suppressed emotions erupted.
Her indescribable love and adoration for Cohen was like the most intense flame, instantly engulfing her entire being.
She could no longer control the surging blood and turbulent magic within her, and a pair of deep purple succubus horns with alluring curves at the tips sprouted uncontrollably from her smooth hair.
A pale purple tail peeked out from under the hem of her dress, swaying gently unconsciously.
A captivating blush rose on her exquisite face, and her eyes shone with a brilliant purple light, filled with astonishing allure and wild pleasure.
The aura emanating from her swayed dangerously between that of a holy princess and a seductive succubus, a sign that her emotions had reached their peak, causing her hidden succubus bloodline to briefly manifest.
Grace reached out her slightly trembling hand, as if wanting to touch Cohen's face in the magical image, her voice sweet and hoarse with excitement:
“He did it…he really did it…my knight…my king…”
The bets of the three important figures were swiftly and thoroughly fulfilled under the pressure and witness of the gods, in a manner that was both humiliating and unavoidable.
The gazes of most people on the plains were involuntarily drawn to the last group—the people of the Black Tomb, and the figure shrouded in a wide black robe in front of them, the Tomb.
The Black Tomb's group stood out conspicuously, yet remained remarkably silent.
A dozen or so men in black robes huddled together, like startled crows.
The chilling, deathly aura that emanated from them was now replaced by an undisguised sense of panic and despair.
All eyes were fixed on Cohen ahead, then nervously glanced at their leader's tomb.
They clearly remembered the conditions Cohen had proposed.
That wasn't a resource, nor a promise. It was a bloody, merciless order to kill—to leave no one alive who came to the Black Tomb today.
The tomb stood there silently.
The wide black robe enveloped his entire body, with only two deep, dark points of light watching Cohen from the shadow of the hood.
He didn't emanate any powerful aura, but the feeling of being one with death itself made the surrounding air seem to freeze.
Cohen finally turned his gaze away from the three men who had fulfilled their bet.
He slowly turned towards the Black Tomb, but his gaze did not fall on the tomb itself, nor on any of the Black Tomb members.
He simply stared calmly at the empty space ahead, his lips moving very slightly.
No sound came out; at least, none of the hundreds of thousands of people on the plain heard a sound.
But Aetheril, the god of light, who sat high in the sky amidst endless light, heard it.
That voice, that affectionate name that almost only exists in the dust of time...
"Ariel... leave no one alive!"
The two simple syllables, to Aetherel's ears, were nothing short of a thunderclap that shattered millennia of silence.
That soft corner of my heart, belonging to the distant past, was deeply touched by this familiar yet heart-wrenching call.
The next moment, Aetherel lowered her head slightly, her eyes, which contained endless light, fell on the calm black figure standing below, and turned into a deep affection that was almost overflowing.
Then, Aetherel raised her hand.
Without any incantation or preparation, it simply pointed lightly in the direction where the people from the Black Tomb were.
Endless light, holy, pure, and all-purifying light, poured forth from her fingertips.
The light was not intense or dazzling, but rather carried a gentle and compassionate quality, like the rising sun.
But when it enveloped the people of the Black Tomb—
"Do not--!!!"
"Lord Tomb! Help..."
The terrified and desperate screams and wails, which had just begun, stopped abruptly, like a duck being choked.
All the Black Tomb members touched by that holy light, whether they were ordinary black-robed figures or hidden powerhouses, had their chilling death aura and dark magic swirling around them melt away instantly, as if encountering their nemesis, ice and snow.
Their bodies, in this pure light, began to disintegrate from the smallest particle level, without pain or struggle, but simply and rapidly turned into specks of drifting light dust, eventually disappearing completely into the air without leaving any trace of their existence.
He couldn't even let out a decent scream.
As they watched the Black Tomb members disappear one by one before their eyes, everyone felt a chill run down their spines.
This time, the Black Tomb's team that came to the Florence Plains almost included most of their publicly known high-end combat forces.
Those saints hidden in the shadows, those legendary assassins and necromancers who roamed the dark side of the continent and inspired fear in all, almost all of them came out.
They are the foundation upon which the Black Tomb has risen to become one of the top powers on the continent, inspiring fear in countless people.
If they were all lost here today, then even if the Black Tomb were not completely destroyed, it would be severely weakened and fall out of the ranks of the top organizations on the continent, becoming a second-rate organization.
It was even attacked by its former enemies and torn to shreds.
However, faced with the personal intervention of an elemental god, and the radiant power of light that purifies everything and originates from the fundamental laws of the world, all their strength, tricks, and trump cards seemed pale and powerless.
The holy light shines down gently, like the warmest sunshine on a spring afternoon.
But for the people of the Black Tomb, this sunlight was the most deadly poison, a holy flame that burned away all filth.
Those figures clad in black robes, exuding a chilling aura, whether they were legendary elites or saints who were usually awe-inspiring, were unable to offer any meaningful resistance in this pure light.
In just a few breaths, everyone in the Black Tomb camp, except for the black-robed figure at the very front who was still putting up a stubborn resistance, and a few Saints behind him whose auras were extremely weak, had completely disappeared without leaving even a trace of ashes.
Witnessing this scene, gentle yet ruthlessly cruel, hundreds of thousands of spectators on the plains, and even the gods high in the sky, felt a chill creep into their hearts. They realized once again that the breathtakingly beautiful goddess before them, enveloped in endless light and warmth, was not merely a symbol of love and beauty, but a supreme deity who held the essence of light, one of the beings standing at the pinnacle of power in this world.
Her love and beauty were only revealed to a very small number of people she favored.
Her power and will are the most ruthless and thorough purification and destruction for any being that dares to defy or offend her.
This goddess has never been one to show mercy.
No one dares to, and cannot, underestimate her methods.
The gods watched all this in silence. Not one god spoke, nor did any god intervene.
Since the bet was made and agreed to in front of everyone, then one must accept the consequences of the bet.
Black Tomb lost, so paying the price is only natural.
As for whether the price is resources, promises, or life, in the eyes of the gods, there is no essential difference.
The final resistance was concentrated at the tomb.
The tomb still stands in the same place.
However, what truly enabled him and the other saints behind him to endure until now under the purifying light of the main god was not his own power, but the thing he held tightly in his hand.
A bone.
The bone was about the length of an arm, and its entire body was a strange, dark black color, but its surface was faintly shimmering with a pale phosphorescent light.
Judging from its shape, it appears to be the rib or part of the leg bone of some large creature.
It was this seemingly inconspicuous bone that emitted a hazy, dark light, like a fragile soap bubble, barely enveloping the tomb and the few saints within, resisting the endless purifying holy light from the outside.
Where the holy light and the black light came into contact, a loud hissing sound was emitted, and black smoke continued to billow out.
The protective shield formed by the black light was also fluctuating violently, as if it would shatter at any moment, but it ultimately managed to hold on for the time being.
"Ok?"
High above, several surprised and doubtful voices came from among the gods.
They could immediately tell that it was an animal bone.
But how could a single animal bone, even the remains of some powerful ancient magical beast, possibly withstand the full suppression of a supreme god?
However, in the next instant, as the beast bone seemed to be under too much pressure, the dark light on its surface began to become unstable, and a deeper, more ancient, and more repulsive aura leaked out from the depths of the bone...
Madora, the God of Prophecy who had always sat silently in the void, shrouded in mist and starlight, and rarely uttered a word, suddenly let out a low, surprised sound:
"This is……"
Madora's voice rang clearly in the ears of every deity, as well as the powerful mortals below who possessed sufficient strength or knew certain ancient secrets:
"The aura of Belial, the first Demon King and Lord of Lies."
Belial!
This name, like a silent thunderclap, resounded across the Florentine plains and echoed in the hearts of all who heard it.
High above, the gods, upon hearing this name, experienced noticeable and intense fluctuations in their divine light and aura.
Below, the faces of the legendary figures and saints from various ancient powers on the plains, who knew parts of the ancient and vanished history, changed drastically in an instant, filled with horror!
The first Demon King, the master of lies and treachery!
That was a terrifying being from the previous era, or even more distant times, that brought disaster and destruction to countless worlds!
It is a nightmare of contending with the original ancient gods, and even one that, according to legend, once plunged the gods into a bitter struggle.
His name itself represents the deepest evil, the most cunning deception, and the purest destruction. More importantly, it is also the mount of that being!
His remains... how could they appear here, in the hands of the Black Tomb?
Cohen, who had been standing calmly in place, finally showed a slight change in expression when he heard the name "Belial".
A knowing glint flashed in the depths of his eyes, as if he were not surprised.
When the Ceylon royal family was destroyed, the mysterious Third Tomb Master appeared to "persuade" them to surrender, and his words vaguely mentioned this first Demon King who had vanished into the river of time. (See "Chapter 280 Lord of the Multiverse, King Solomon!")
Just as everyone was still reeling from the shock of hearing the name "Belial," the situation took another turn.
The dark animal bone seemed to have reached a critical point due to the pressure it was under, and the pale phosphorescent light flowing on its surface suddenly intensified.
That unsettling atmosphere, which made one's very soul uncomfortable, surged out like a flood bursting its banks.
The dark light intertwined with the pale phosphorescence, rapidly coalescing in the air.
Finally, under the horrified gazes of everyone, the light transformed into a gigantic phantom.
The phantom seemed to be some kind of demonic form that was difficult to describe in words, yet it kept twisting and changing. Sometimes it looked like countless venomous snakes intertwined together, sometimes like a fleshy mass covered with eyes and mouthparts, and sometimes it condensed into a humanoid silhouette with curved ram horns and bat wings...
The only constant was that thick, unyielding, terrifying aura that seemed to embody all the negativity and evil in the world.
Two crimson lights shone from the center of the phantom, like eyes, slowly "scanning" the world, sweeping over the gods, and finally, seemingly lingering on Cohen for a moment.
Belial's projection!
Although it is merely a projection attached to a skeleton, the essential aura that belongs to this first Demon King and Lord of Lies cannot be faked!
Upon seeing this projection, the gods could no longer maintain their previous composure.
Even the most composed deity experienced a violent tremor in the divine power emanating from his body.
Their shock was not because Belial's power was invincible—at least, at this moment, the weak projection manifested by the skeleton contained far less energy than any of the deities present.
What truly shook these gods, who had lived through countless eras and witnessed the birth and death of the universe, was the name that Belial represented and the terrifying truths that the name linked to.
Belial, the first Lord of Demons and Lies, has another, more crucial and chilling identity in those forbidden scrolls and divine memories almost forgotten by the living beings of the mortal world—the supreme being who commands the seventy-two demons, and the contracted mount of King Solomon.
Or more accurately, he was the eternal covenant holder who shared power and life with King Solomon.
An ancient covenant tightly bound their fates together.
The fact that Belial could cast a faint projection here, even in this form, suggests an obvious and terrifying truth: Belial's contractual master, the King Solomon known as the "King of Kings" and "King of Kings," may not have truly perished!
But how is that possible?
Cohen's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
His memories from his past life, those fragments of knowledge belonging to the "players," clearly told him that Belial and King Solomon had long since perished.
Some of the top-secret documents he consulted after his arrival in this world clearly recorded the ultimate battle of the first generation of gods that swept across countless planes.
Records show that it was in that unimaginably brutal apocalyptic war that King Solomon and his demon army perished together with the rebellious first gods, shattering the glorious demon kingdom and causing the collapse of the order that spanned countless planes.
King Solomon died, and Belial died too.
It was because of the passing of this supreme ruler that the seventy-two pillars of demons that once made the heavens tremble lost their only shackles and core, gradually slipping out of control and scattering into every corner of the multiverse. They transformed from a disciplined and terrifying army into chaotic demons that acted independently and fought each other.
It was precisely because of the loss of King Solomon's presence and command, and the loss of the "royal power" that could unify and maximize the power of the demons, that the remaining demons were defeated, driven out, or sealed away one by one by the gods of the divine realm in the subsequent "war between gods and demons" that lasted for countless years.
This is the cornerstone of history and the premise upon which the current multiverse order is built.
But now, Belial's projection is hanging there.
How could this not frighten the gods?
King Solomon... that was not the name of an ordinary king in history books, nor the title of a powerful deity.
That is the "Supreme King," the sole supreme ruler of an era in the multiverse, and even further back in time.
Legend has it that His authority covers countless planes, His kingdom spans thousands of worlds, His will is the law, and His words are the truth.
In that distant era, even the oldest and most powerful first gods had to bow their proud heads to His throne and show their submission.
Until... the first generation of gods united and launched an ultimate rebellion so devastating it defies description.
The war lasted for countless epochs, turning countless planes into scorched earth, extinguishing stars, and breaking down the rules.
In the end, both the records and the memories point to the same scene: King Solomon and his eternal steed and ally Belial perished in that unimaginable final battle, along with many of the rebellious first gods.
That marked the end of the old era and the beginning of the difficult establishment of the current divine order.
Now, the spirit of Belial has returned.
And what about King Solomon?
Has that supreme king who once made the gods bow down and ruled for countless ages... truly perished completely?
Or was that earth-shattering fall itself a lie, a hoax, or... the beginning of a long hibernation?
This mere thought that surfaced in their minds was enough to send a chill down the spines of the gods high above.
Cohen watched quietly as the distorted and changing projection of Belial in the air, then glanced at the silent avatars of the gods.
Thoughts surged in his eyes: the game's background, the secrets he had uncovered, the gods' reactions... all the clues intertwined and collided at this moment.
It seems that the "history" of this world is far more complex and dangerous than anyone, including himself, once thought.
The Black Tomb—behind them lies a terrifying entity capable of plunging the entire world back into chaos and war! (End of Chapter)