Every Immortal in the Celestial Court turned their attention to the same direction—the demonic pantheon.
Even among the chaotic aura and wicked presence of the demons, this sight brought silence.
The seven Immortal Demon Princes, seated proudly on their ancient thrones, narrowed their eyes.
"Hm? What is this? Did one of us do something?"
Samael, who always considered himself to be the leader of all demons, muttered.
At this time, Beelzebub leaned forward, his clawed fingers tapping the armrest of his seat. He thought of a person in his mind at this time.
But according to his current situation, it was impossible for him to pull off such a thing. At least not without help. And apart from the demonic pantheon, who could help him?
The 72 minor thrones surrounding the demonic pantheon—all belonging to Ars Goetia Immortal Demons—also fell silent, their collective focus fixed on the approaching runes.
