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

Just as Philippa was torn between her inner turmoil and plunged into an unprecedented struggle and silence, Grey, who was of one mind with her, almost immediately sensed the intense turmoil and pain of his lover beside him.

He didn't go to see her, nor did he urge or question her, because he understood the torment she was going through at that moment.

But there are some choices that he must make.

He took a deep breath, as if trying to inhale the suffocating divine power around him, and then resolutely took a step forward.

This step firmly stood between Philippa and the throne, representing his unquestionable stance.

He raised his head, his gaze like a tempered sword, piercing straight at the high and mighty being, his voice echoing clearly throughout the temple:

"What if I say no?"

This brief question, like a war clarion call, shattered the atmosphere of "blessing" unilaterally established by the Goddess of Holy Light.

On the throne, on the flawless face of the Goddess of Holy Light, for the first time, a clear expression appeared—a mixture of disdain and coldness at being defied by ants.

"Refuse?" His ethereal voice carried undisguised mockery and absolute, confident power.

“From the very beginning, I was not consulting with you. In this Celestial Realm, before my throne, you… can only follow my will.”

Before he could finish speaking, and before Gray could even have a chance to speak again, a familiar and terrifying pressure, accompanied by a powerful spatial repulsion, erupted like a tangible tsunami!

This power is exactly the same as the one that nearly crushed and cornered Gray last time, with a clear objective—either submit or be forcibly pushed out of the Celestial Realm by this irresistible force, or even be completely crushed in the process!

However, this time, Gray was no longer the "at the mercy of the gods" he once was.

Just as that destructive divine power was about to strike, the seemingly simple bracelet on his right wrist suddenly lit up with a deep, eerie light!

A purplish-black stream of light, condensed to its extreme and imbued with the indomitable will and destiny of the demon race over a thousand years, shot out from the bracelet and landed in Gray's hand, transforming into a longsword with an ancient design and an aura of ominousness and majesty—the Demon King Sword!

Gray tightened his grip on the sword hilt with his five fingers.

The moment he gripped the hilt of the sword, an indescribable power, seemingly originating from the dark side of the world's origin, surged forth from the Demon King's sword, merging seamlessly with his own Demon King power!

The terrifying pressure and repulsive force that had shattered his body and brought him to the brink of death last time crashed against the invisible barrier constructed by Gray and the Demon King Sword, just like waves crashing against an unchanging reef!

"Om-!"

A deep, resonant sound, as if the rules themselves were colliding, rang out.

Gray’s body swayed violently, and even tiny, spiderweb-like cracks appeared on the temple floor beneath his feet (but were instantly repaired by an unknown force).

His face turned pale instantly, and veins bulged on his forehead, clearly indicating that he was under unimaginable pressure.

But—he stopped!

He stood firmly on the ground like an ancient tree rooted in the earth, his spine straight, without taking even half a step back.

Even more astonishingly, he absorbed all that immense divine power into himself and the Demon King's Sword. That power, capable of crushing mountains and annihilating souls, did not leak out in the slightest, nor did it affect Philippa, whom he was firmly protecting behind him.

Philippa felt the suffocating pressure suddenly ease. She looked up in astonishment and saw only Grena's not particularly broad back, which at this moment seemed to support the entire world, and the demonic sword in his hand that exuded a heart-palpitating power.

He actually managed to stand upright, relying on this sword, and resisted the divine power unleashed by the goddess of holy light in her anger!

This scene not only shocked Philippa, causing her beautiful eyes to widen in astonishment, but also caused a genuine and clear look of disbelief to flash across the eyes of the Holy Goddess on her throne, whose eyes were a mixture of ice and fire.

He could sense that the sword... was extraordinary.

It is not merely a powerful weapon; the power of laws entwined upon it even poses a faint yet undeniable threat to His divinity.

"What is that...?" For the first time, a hint of seriousness appeared in the ethereal voice of the Goddess of Holy Light.

The Goddess of Holy Light, as expected of the ruler who has governed this plane for countless years, saw through the very essence of the Demon King's Sword in a mere moment, her gaze, which contained boundless knowledge and understanding of the laws.

The slight ripple of surprise that had just arisen due to the unexpected event vanished quickly, like water smoothed by an invisible hand, returning to its eternal, unchanging coldness and calm.

"I see." A clear voice rang out, carrying a sense of understanding, but also a barely perceptible hint of anger, as if discovering an unnoticed anthill in a corner of the house.

"A disposable weapon formed by gathering the fortune of the entire race as fuel."

His gaze seemed to pierce through the physical form of the Demon King's Sword, revealing within it the power of destiny and struggle accumulated by the demon race over millennia.

"They actually managed to create something like this right under my nose."

His tone remained calm, but the meaning it conveyed was chilling.

"What surprised me even more was that I had not noticed any obvious or abnormal loss of fortune in any race on the main plane... It seems that there was a loophole in the monitoring mechanism of the main plane, or... the collection process was secretive and lengthy enough."

He spoke as if he were conducting a post-mortem analysis, his tone revealing little anger at being offended, but rather a slight displeasure at the loopholes in his own management system.

“I was careless.” He admitted casually, then, as if issuing a trivial instruction, said, “It seems that the monitoring of the prime plane needs to be further improved in the future.”

Then, His gaze refocused on Gray, who was gripping the Demon King's sword and resisting the divine power with all his might, and on Philippa behind him, whose hope had been rekindled by this reversal.

For the first time, a clear and intense contempt and mockery was revealed in those icy and fiery pupils.

"However--"

His voice suddenly rose in pitch, though it did not increase the oppressive force, it carried a soul-searching question and an absolutely confident denial:

"You don't naively believe... that with this cheap, painstakingly crafted 'toy' that exhausted the lifeblood of an entire clan, you can—"

"—Can you kill me?"

The final "I" was not a roar, but it seemed to resonate with the laws of the entire Celestial Realm. Every syllable carried supreme majesty and absolute power, striking Gray and Philippa's minds like a heavy hammer!

He did not even make any defensive or offensive gestures, but remained calmly seated on his throne.

For in the face of that absolute difference in status and power, any form of tension or defense is an insult to Him.

In the eyes of the Goddess of Holy Light, the Demon King's Sword might cause her a slight "trouble," like an exceptionally hard thorn that could inflict considerable damage, but it could never truly threaten her life.

This is nothing more than the faintest and most ridiculous cry of an ant in despair.