Given Beelzebub's near-nonexistent social connections, it would have been impossible for him to personally create such a massive demon army alone.
In other words, the sheer number of modified demons he commanded could only mean someone was providing vast resources from behind the scenes.
And the demon army, created with such immense resources, was originally meant to be deployed when the time came.
But who would have thought Beelzebub would use them now?
Using them was one thing—a few wouldn't have been an issue—but deploying almost all of them only to have the Seventy-Two Demon Gods annihilate them? That infuriated the sponsor.
However, something unexpected occurred.
Beelzebub had used them to nurture something entirely unforeseen. Though only thirteen in number, the terror they inspired far surpassed that of the entire demon army.
"So you hid this as well? Did you think what was given could be taken so easily?"
The sponsor wasn't worried about these thirteen beings being fully controlled by Beelzebub. In the end, whether Beelzebub was willing to hand them over or not, they would still belong to him.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, he turned his gaze to another figure in the projection—Solomon.
This guy was truly unexpected.
A mere human had actually developed magic and directly touched the source of all creation.
This couldn't simply be described as intelligence—it made him want to thoroughly study his brain, his soul.
Perhaps this opportunity wasn't entirely out of reach.
Silence—!
The audience in the coliseum fell into a hush, staring in shock at the scene before them.
The Seventy-Two Demon Gods, who had been overwhelming Beelzebub's side earlier, were now being overpowered in turn by thirteen entities known as the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven—Papiyas.
As for how the audience knew these beings were called the Demon Kings of the Sixth Heaven, it was because they had announced their own names.
Moreover, they had initially tried to rebel against their master, Beelzebub—attempting to slay him—but suddenly their bodies stiffened, rendered immobile.
The reason for this was obvious: Beelzebub had tampered with them, forcing them to obey his commands and attack the Seventy-Two Demon Gods.
Their overwhelming strength immediately left everyone dumbfounded.
The weaker Demon Gods couldn't withstand more than three or four strikes.
The stronger ones lasted around ten moves.
As for the Four Great Kings—Baal, ranked first among them—held out for nearly a hundred exchanges before—
"Guh—!"
The blade in Papiyas' hand pierced through his defenses and impaled his chest.
When the blade was withdrawn, a barbed tip emerged, hooking out his heart.
At the moment of penetration, there had been no barb—meaning Papiyas could freely alter parts of his body, manifesting bone swords from his arms or transforming them into blades, axes, and other weapons.
The so-called hundred exchanges, though seemingly lengthy, had transpired in mere moments to ordinary humans.
Thus, the weaker Demon Gods appeared to be instantly annihilated in human eyes.
The swift defeat of the Seventy-Two Demon Gods defied all expectations.
Not only the humans—even the gods were stunned.
After all, some chief gods might not even be a match for the Seventy-Two Demon Gods, yet they had been crushed so decisively?
At this thought, the divine spectators felt a chill crawl down their spines.
What had Beelzebub created? These things had even tried to kill their master—what if they went out of control one day? The consequences were unimaginable.
"How boring."
"How boring."
"How boring…"
A chorus of monotonous voices echoed from the thirteen Papiyas.
With these words, Baal's body shattered into motes of light and vanished.
As the last of the Demon Gods disappeared, the sandbox world's earth cracked apart, releasing a terrifying surge of energy from below.
"BOOM—!"
The entire world was obliterated, unleashing a pillar of aurora that swallowed the coliseum, soaring into the heavens as if to pierce a hole through the sky.
The spectators at the edge of the arena felt their hearts leap into their throats as the transparent barrier before them emitted ominous creaking sounds.
In other words, if not for the sudden appearance of the transparent barrier, the entire coliseum would have been swallowed by this Aurora Pillar.
So, was this move one of the Seventy-Two Demon Gods' trump cards? A last resort to take everyone down together?
But wouldn't this have affected King Solomon as well?
Everyone watched nervously as the Aurora Pillar gradually shrank.
When it finally disappeared, the sight of the arena left everyone stunned...
A massive chunk of the fighting platform had been completely sheared off, sinking forty to fifty meters deep.
Don't underestimate a pit forty to fifty meters deep—while gods could easily create such destruction, that only applies to ordinary earth.
This fighting platform—no, the entire coliseum itself—could be considered an extremely unique construct, almost a divine artifact.
To cause destruction on this scale, only a chief deity like Zeus would normally be capable.
However, not the entire platform had been obliterated.
The area where King Solomon stood remained untouched, leaving a ten-meter radius around him intact, forming a pillar forty to fifty meters tall.
On Beelzebub's side, there was also standing ground, even larger than Solomon's, with the Thirteen Demon Kings still surrounding him.
Though these Thirteen Demon Kings had survived, they looked wretched—their bodies resembling melted wax, horrifically deformed by the intense heat.
Suddenly, countless spectators gasped in shock.
The Thirteen Demon Kings' bodies were regenerating—self-repairing?
"They got away. Now, only you remain!"
The Papiyas spoke in unison, their gazes fixed on one person—King Solomon—like predators eyeing prey.
By "they got away," they meant the Seventy-Two Demon Gods hadn't truly been killed.
That sandbox world was strange—it seemed to have given them an extra life.
"He's mine!"
Again, the Papiyas spoke simultaneously, but this time, they were addressing each other.
Then, one by one, they began to laugh—a cruel, chilling laughter.
The moment the laughter faded, thirteen Papiyas appeared without warning beside King Solomon.
For an instant, it seemed there were now twenty-six Papiyas on the field?
Not quite. The chief deities realized this was due to Papiyas's speed—his afterimage lingered on their retinas even as he moved, creating the illusion of doubling his numbers.
Thus, by the time people noticed the additional Papiyas, they had already launched their attacks.
In that moment, the humans' hearts leaped into their throats.
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