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

Philippa, who had been watching the entire battle from the sidelines, had long forgotten her own powerlessness and worries, and was completely immersed in this battle between gods and demons that exceeded the limits of imagination.

Her amber eyes reflected Gray's tireless, ever-growing figure, like a perpetual motion machine, and her heart was filled with indescribable shock and an almost worshipful admiration.

From her initial despair, to the joy of seeing Gray regain his footing, to the tense anticipation of witnessing him gradually turn the tide, and now, watching him crush the once supreme god with absolute dominance... all these changes unfolded before her eyes like the most magnificent epic.

She could clearly feel that Gray's aura was like a raging torrent with no limit, one wave higher than the next, becoming stronger and more profound every second!

This scene of rapid transformation and breaking through limits in battle completely overturned her understanding of "power".

At this moment, from the perspective of the Goddess of Holy Light, the world is already a blur.

His consciousness flickered like a candle in the wind, threatening to go out under Gray's relentless and violent onslaught.

His wounds multiplied, and golden divine blood almost soaked through his tattered robes. Each parry became incredibly difficult, and each dodge exhausted his last bit of strength.

The intense pain, the depletion of divine power, the weakness of falling from grace, and the deep-seated fear of the "monster" before him overwhelmed His reason like a tidal wave.

His ability to think was rapidly fading, his vision was becoming blurry and shaky, and all he could hear was his own heavy breathing, the groans of his bones breaking under the strain, and the shrill screams that tore through space when Gray attacked.

Finally, after being struck hard in the chest by Gray's heavy punch, which nearly caused her soul to leave her body, the Goddess of Holy Light's consciousness completely fell into chaos.

In combat, the body's most primal and purest instinct—the will to survive—is brought into play.

His body was still mechanically dodging and blocking, and the holy light was still shining instinctively, but his double pupils of ice and fire had lost focus and become empty and lifeless.

In this hazy, blurred state of consciousness, some distant images, long buried by the dust of divine existence, suddenly and uncontrollably surfaced before His "eyes" like shattered pieces of glass...

That seems to be... a scene from millions of years ago...

The blurry fragments of images flashed rapidly, making it impossible to discern the specific content; there was only a sense of remoteness, antiquity, and a hazy feeling that sharply contrasted with the despair of the present moment.

These fragments come and go quickly, leaving no room to grasp their meaning, only a chilling sense of emptiness, as if looking back on a long period of time yet finding nothing at all.

"Oh... uh..."

A meaningless syllable, mixed with pain and confusion, was squeezed out of His throat.

The mangled body still instinctively gathered a faint light, attempting to resist.

Meanwhile, Gray's offensive showed no sign of abating, becoming even more ferocious and deadly! He had clearly sensed the collapse of his opponent's consciousness, and the final blow to end everything was poised to strike!

The Holy Light Goddess, once a supreme being, was beaten so badly by Grayna that she couldn't even maintain her consciousness. She was forced to have uncontrollable flashbacks of memories that only occur when one's consciousness is blurred and one is on the verge of collapse!

To put it simply, the Goddess of Holy Light was brutally beaten by Gray until she was practically paralyzed with rage!

This undoubtedly signifies that His resistance, both mentally and physically, has reached its limit.

The end of a god is just around the corner.

Before her consciousness completely succumbed, the uncontrollable fragments of memory became clearer, yet they carried an ancient sense of vicissitude and unfamiliarity, abruptly dragging the consciousness of the Goddess of Holy Light into a fragment of an era from an incredibly distant past...

That was a world completely different from the one we live in now.

There is no celestial realm; only the sun, moon, and stars revolve in the sky.

There are no angels, no so-called gods looking down upon all living beings.

There was never a time when the conflict between humans and demons was so meticulously designed and endlessly repeated.

The vast continent of the main plane was shrouded in an absolute, suffocating darkness and tyranny—the era of the demon race's rule.

The images in my memory are blurry and oppressive:

Beneath the sky, towering yet menacing black buildings stand in rows, and demonic energy, like an ever-present dark cloud, shrouds the earth.

The demons roam everywhere; they are powerful, arrogant, and possess an innate sense of superiority, making them the undisputed rulers of the entire continent.

At the top of their social structure stands a true demon king, whose power is enough to subdue the entire race, and whose might makes the heavens and earth pale in comparison.

The Demon King is undoubtedly the strongest being in the world. In terms of current human terminology, the Demon King's strength is equivalent to that of a tenth-tier professional.

Human beings appear most insignificant and tragic in our memories.

They were like ants, crawling in the shadow of the demons, regarded as the lowest laborers, servants, or even... expendable goods.

Their struggles were as faint as fireflies, utterly meaningless in the face of the demons' absolute power.

Orcs and elves also exist. Although their status is slightly higher than that of humans, and they may be able to retain some settlements or perform certain specific duties, they are essentially still under the rule of the demons, dependent on them and powerless to resist.

Demi-humans... had not yet been born in the fragments of memory of this era. Perhaps their bloodline gradually emerged during the much longer and more complex process of racial integration and evolution that followed.

That was an era in which the rules were defined by the demon race, and the rise and fall of dynasties were controlled by the Demon King.

Faced with the absolute power of the demon race, the three lowest races (humans, orcs, and elves) could only submit and lie low; the thought of resistance was nothing but a pipe dream and a joke.

This fragment of memory from ancient times, symbolizing the absolute dominance of the demon race, was like a final irony, violently impacting the consciousness of the Holy Light Goddess on the verge of annihilation.

He saw the "source" of all this, the original reason that compelled Him to intervene, to establish a cycle, and to suppress the demons.

However, this brief moment of clarity and understanding brought not relief, but a deeper sense of despair and absurdity.

What is the purpose of maintaining all of this?

He who set up shackles and cycles to break the rule of the demon race may ultimately perish at the hands of a new generation of demon king who has broken all shackles and displayed even more terrifying potential than the ancient demon king.

At this moment, the wheels of history seemed to have completed a cold and cruel cycle.

This thought became the final straw that broke the camel's back. The darkness before him completely swallowed those ancient images, and also swallowed his last shred of sanity.

The final blow from Grena to end everything is imminent.