The maid squad is too strong, what use is there for me, the Demon King?

Gray noticed that the archbishop of the Lust and Pleasure faction seemed to know a lot of secrets, and thinking that there was no harm in asking, he tried to speak.

Unfortunately, even though Gray had avoided sensitive words like "[Celestial Realm]" that could easily trigger the "silencing" mechanism, an invisible force still prevented him from voicing his important questions.

At this point, Gray realized that he had no chance of getting anything out of the archbishop.

So he sighed.

"They won't let you ask, let alone talk about it. That person really restricts you to a very strict degree."

Forget it, I won't do this useless work.

"Compared to this—is your projection summoning process really that complicated and time-consuming? Last time, that guild leader summoned a black dragon projection in no time."

The archbishop sighed helplessly: "It'll be soon. The summoning process is different for each faction."

He didn't have the time or inclination to explain to Gray the differences in how their demonic order summoned projections.

There are two main types.

It's instantaneous, but at a great cost; just one strike using the Demon Projection can drain the life force of a seventh-tier professional.

The archbishop understood that simply projecting a few attacks would not be enough; he needed to summon Lord Rast's projection for an extended period of time.

The cost of activating it instantly is the life force of two bishops, or half of one's own life force.

The cost was so high that they dared not launch an attack unless absolutely necessary.

A bishop would not be willing to give up his life for this, and an archbishop would not be willing to use his life force to pay for it.

Therefore, they chose an alternative method that involved a complex process and a long summoning time, but the cost was not too high.

The original plan was to buy some time under the Demon King's control until Lord Rast's projection was summoned.

But the black-robed man in front of them was actually willing to give them time, and now was the perfect time to use the altar to summon the projection.

As for why Gray was willing to give them time to summon the demon projection...

That certainly couldn't be an exchange of "honest answers".

There are two main reasons.

Killing the demon's projection can also cause some damage to the demon's real body.

It's all just a matter of convenience; wipe out a faction, then kill a projection.

It's not troublesome, and it can still harm the demons in the Netherworld Prison. Why not do it?

Additionally, Gray was somewhat curious about the appearance of this lustful and pleasure-loving demon, Rast.

I've seen the demon of the underworld and shadows, Daklis, before, as a snake; the demon of greed and avarice, Avaris, as a black dragon; and the demon of knowledge and truth, Thurt, is a bit more peculiar, and it's hard to describe what kind of creature he resembles.

Grey had also heard about the image of Rast, the demon of lust and pleasure, from Capa.

It was said to be a tentacle monster?

The lingering magic of virgin blood in the air, the abyssal aura emanating from the succubus's reflection, and the decadent desires accumulated throughout the entire Upside-Down Church over countless centuries—these powers, used to summon the succubus but not yet exhausted, became offerings for the cultists of lust and pleasure to summon their "Lord of Pleasure."

The archbishop's voice became hoarse and cracked, like sandpaper rubbing against rotten wood, completely different from when he was talking to Gray. There was a kind of madness about it, and it seemed that his mind had become chaotic.

His gaze swept wildly across the altar: "We offer our essence, knocking on the gates of the prison, not merely as prisoners! O supreme Lord of Pleasure! Your humble servants yearn for your gaze! Tear away this veil of humility, and let down your magnificent glance!"

The entire space of the upside-down church groaned under its own weight.

The hanging, cold chains no longer hummed, but emitted a tooth-grinding, snapping metallic wail.

On the altar's smooth, mirror-like surface, the lingering reflection of the succubus was instantly distorted and stretched by an invisible force, shattering like a stone thrown into water.

Instead, at the center of the inverted, bottomless dome directly above the altar, space itself began to tear apart.

It wasn't just a crack; it was like a piece of rotten cloth being violently torn apart from the inside by two terrifying forces.

Sizzle!

A huge, irregular cross-shaped rift appeared out of nowhere, its edges not being neat cut lines, but constantly writhing and flowing with a viscous, dark substance like melting asphalt.

Inside the rift, it was no longer the pure darkness of a netherworld prison, but rather a churning, indescribable, filthy dark red, like the cross-section of rotting viscera, or like congealed waves saturated with pus and blood.

An unimaginable pressure, accompanied by a blasphemous aura capable of freezing the soul, poured down from the rift.

Immediately afterwards, the torn "fabric" was violently ripped open to both sides.

A massive, writhing projection was forced out of that filthy, dark red abyss.

It has no fixed outline; its main body resembles a huge lump of flesh that is constantly expanding and contracting, composed of viscous shadows and amorphous flesh, with a translucent film on its surface that is constantly secreting and dripping fluorescent green mucus.

Countless tentacles writhe and stretch out wildly on the tumor. These tentacles vary in thickness, the thinnest being as thin as an infant's arm and the thickest comparable to a giant python.

They were not smooth, but covered with disgusting suction cups—not simply round, but each one like a miniature, constantly opening and closing mouthpart covered with tiny sharp teeth, or inlaid with rotating, shimmering, and lewd lights.

The ends of the tentacles were even more bizarre: some swelled up into scales that resembled male and female genitalia, which was the most unbearable part to look at; others were sharp like bone spears covered with barbs; and still others split into countless tiny, leech-like subtentacles, greedily sucking up the remaining magic power in the void.

This is the projection of Rast, the "Demon of Lustful Pleasures"—a pure, chaotic embodiment of endless desire, distorted sensory stimulation, and ultimate depravity.

The moment He descended, a powerful spiritual suppression directly struck the very essence of the soul!

The four bishops were the first to be affected. Their frenzied dance froze instantly, then turned into violent, epileptic convulsions.

Beneath the biofilm masks covering their faces, their eyeballs rolled upwards wildly, leaving almost only the whites of their eyes visible, and they uttered incoherent hisses from their throats, a mixture of ecstasy and extreme pain.

The mental state of the ordinary cult members in the audience was clearly even more dire.

Reason, like fragile glass, was shattered the moment the projection appeared.

Some began to frantically scratch their skin with their fingernails, leaving streaks of blood; others tore at their companions like wild beasts, tearing flesh from beneath the thin veil; still others curled up on the ground, uttering incomprehensible murmurs and raucous laughter filled with primal desire, completely immersed in the mad waves of lust emanating from the projection of Rast that were enough to burn away the nerves.