This Isn't an E*otic Game?-Chapter 110: You fight like shit

Satan was unleashing sword strikes that bordered on sheer desperation.

His cursed sword, Baltaluch, the symbol of his boundless rage, was now radiating such intense heat that it was melting the surrounding earth.

But seeing that, Belia only laughed.

“[I can feel it—you're weakening in real time. Getting anxious, aren’t you?]”

“[Shut up. Shut up!! Shut your mouth!!]”

Belia’s sword and Satan’s cursed blade clashed once again.

Blazing violet flames and divine energy red as blood exploded chaotically in all directions.

At the collision of the two divine beings, the stones of Talhaim’s Rock Mountain melted, shattered, and erupted.

And with that, wounds slowly began to appear on Satan’s physical body.

It was inevitable.

Now the tide had turned.

Just moments ago, the gods of the Pantheon had been silent, completely unable to interfere in the mortal realm. Meanwhile, Lucifer had been offering the demon lords solid support.

But now that the portal between the heavens and the mortal world had been thrown wide open—

Belia was growing stronger in real time, backed by the overflowing support of the Pantheon, while Satan was losing his followers at an alarming rate.

No matter how he assessed the situation, there was no scenario in which he could win.

It was a worst-case scenario—yet Satan found himself laughing.

Just like Mammon, whom he had mocked for being a fool, swearing he’d never end up like him.

He had manifested in the mortal world, and for some reason could no longer return to the Spirit Realm, doomed to have his divine essence destroyed.

Mammon, being the Demon Lord of Greed, was cunning to the core—he had left behind just enough power as insurance to retreat to the Spirit Realm.

Thanks to that, he was able to preserve even a sliver of divinity.

But Satan, Leviathan, and Belphegor had no such fallback.

They had burned through a staggering amount of divinity and power corrupting the Saint and trying to restrain Asmodeus. On top of that, Satan’s body had been nearly destroyed by Asmodeus’s overwhelming divine power and hastily reconstructed.

He no longer had the power to return to the Spirit Realm on his own.

His followers would have to perform the ritual to open a path for him—but those very followers were now dropping like flies.

Satan laughed.

He laughed because it was absurd. He laughed because it was hopeless.

He was a divine being who had lived over a thousand years, surviving countless crises and dangers.

And yet he was going to die because of one human.

Not some great or mighty figure. Just a dumb, ordinary, unimpressive idiot.

A painfully good, stupid bastard so righteous it was almost pathological.

There was no comedy more twisted than this.

“[Let me put an end to this.]”

Belia’s sword strikes grew even more savage.

Satan blocked them all—but slowly, surely, his body was being overwhelmed by Belia’s ferocious divine power.

This wasn’t the Spirit Realm.

A divine being without a physical vessel was left terrifyingly exposed.

Satan, perhaps for the first time, was tasting the raw fear of annihilation.

“[.......Lucifer. Lucifer!!]”

Satan screamed.

“[Save me!! I don’t want to vanish like this!! Lucifer!!]”

It was a scream stripped of pride and grandeur—he wailed like a child.

But Lucifer gave no reply.

He didn’t reach out. He didn’t unleash any power to save him.

And Satan understood why.

[Now it's your turn.]

[Pay for all the times you blocked and interfered with us.]

Dulanea.

Lupiel.

Rophus.

Le-Neri, god of shadow and secrets.

And the moon goddess Mnesia and the goddess of wisdom Aneta, freed by the interference of the evil god.

Six divine beings were standing in Lucifer’s way as he desperately reached toward the mortal realm.

Lucifer roared.

He tried to throw them off, but the grudge of the Pantheon was persistent and deep.

And so, at the most critical moment—

Lucifer could not save Satan.

Baltaluch shattered.

The cursed sword, forged over a thousand years from endless rage and humanity’s hatred, was destroyed by the goddess of war’s blade and burst apart.

Satan and Belia exchanged no final words.

Satan wore a complicated expression—fear, futility, and even amusement at how he’d ultimately fallen because he couldn’t corrupt a single human.

Belia’s face was filled with cold, cutting fury.

Her sword sliced Satan’s body vertically in half.

The wave of divine energy that burst forth carved a massive scar across the land. freёnovelkiss.com

Satan’s physical body collapsed completely.

And from within it, his fragile divine essence was torn out.

Belia reached out.

“[There is no rest for you. Satan!!]”

She clenched her hand.

No matter how large Satan’s divine essence was compared to her, without a body and outside the Spirit Realm, he was utterly powerless.

His divine essence was destroyed right then and there.

Belia absorbed it without hesitation.

And at the same time—

“No, no!! Lord of Wrath!! AAAAAAH!!”

Every one of Satan’s followers—those who had offered their souls to him—screamed in agony as their bodies began to crumble.

****

Belphegor and Leviathan were also going through a living nightmare.

“[Stop them!! Get out there and stop them, you dumb fucks!!]”

Belphegor shrieked.

But screaming and thrashing wasn’t going to change the tide.

“[Grind them down!! Show no mercy to the enemy!!]”

Dulanea’s Divine Speech burst from Iomene’s lips.

With it, blinding white beams of light symbolizing Dulanea shot down from the heavens.

The Ketraltus and all priests and clergy of the White Sect charged at Belphegor, eyes wild with a mixture of joy and hatred.

“Die!! Die, you heretic bastards!! Heretics!!”

High-caliber shells rained to the floor as a rotary cannon spewed divine fire from the right hand of a raging paladin.

Each barrel had been thoroughly blessed, soaked in divine power.

The storm of bullets was likewise enchanted with Dulanea’s energy through sacred water and prayer.

The craftsmanship of the Scrap Yard’s artisans and engineers was top-notch.

These massive suits of armor had been specially forged and dedicated to the White Sect, the very sect that had saved their city from a demon lord.

“We have to stop it!! We have to slow the bullets down!!”

Belphegor’s followers were largely black magicians.

Her black magi were desperately trying to interfere, to preserve what remained of their crumbling forces.

But the spells they needed just couldn’t be cast in time.

“Now! Fire no—ggh!!”

The black magicians staggered, coughing up blood.

Their eyes filled with horror and rage as they turned.

A witch with four arms.

Erfa was floating calmly in midair, her wand moving in elegant arcs.

Even the floating debris around her confirmed the sheer intensity of the magic she was casting.

“It won’t be that easy.”

Before she even finished speaking, Tower Lord Yorgen, the Mars Branch archmages, and mages from the Mage Tower Temple stepped forward behind her, all waving their wands.

Unlike the black magicians—who had to dodge bullets while casting interference spells—these mages were heavily protected by holy knights and could focus purely on spell disruption.

Not a single useful spell made it through.

And Belphegor was no Satan, nor Leviathan.

“[Charge!! Tear them apart!! I’ll support you!!]”

Leviathan was a master of close combat.

Her followers were all from races blessed with physical enhancement.

They could shrug off blessed bullets with their bodies alone and charge into chaotic melee.

Belphegor’s followers, on the other hand, were nothing like that.

Like their master, they specialized not in direct combat, but in psychic manipulation, brainwashing, and pain-inducing curses.

Most of them were black magicians for that very reason.

And now, facing a charge from muscle-bound giants bathed in holy power, wielding cannon-sized handguns and swords taller than a man—

It was pure horror.

“[Leviathan!!]”

If they were going to survive this, they needed a close-combat expert.

Belphegor whipped her head around to look at Envy, but Envy wasn’t in any position to help either.

The ones facing Belphegor were just the White Sect and the mages of the Mage Tower.

In other words—

“For Rophus!! O, sun above!!”

“For the god of shadow and secrets!!”

“O goddess of moonlight and silence!!”

“Lend us your wisdom!!”

—all the paladins from every other sect aside from the White Sect were now focusing entirely on Leviathan.

Even the assassins of the Black Fortress were harassing Leviathan.

There was no way Leviathan, fighting for her own life, could spare anything for Belphegor.

And Belphegor had never been a demon lord made for full-scale frontal warfare.

She floundered helplessly, watching as her beloved collection and loyal followers were destroyed.

Then, through a chorus of agonized screams, came the sound of Satan’s divine essence being annihilated.

The piercing scream echoed through the Spirit Realm, and Belphegor’s eyes snapped backward.

“[No. No. No!! NO, IT CAN’T BE!!!!]”

Belphegor shrieked in panic.

Satan was dead.

His divine essence was completely destroyed—devoured by Belia.

And now that the god to whom his followers had offered their souls had disappeared, their physical bodies collapsed with him.

Belia slowly raised her sword and pointed it directly at Belphegor.

“[Belphegor.]”

That was all she said.

She didn’t yell. She didn’t rage.

With a blank, icy face, Belia simply stared at her and called her name.

And with just that, Belphegor was seized by a fear she had never known.

That was the goddess she had tortured ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) for three hundred years.

Belia had witnessed countless Chosen who bore her essence suffer and die in unspeakable agony.

How great must that hatred be?

If she was caught, she wouldn’t get a clean death like Satan. That much was certain.

As that thought sank in, Belphegor had only one choice left.

“[Run!!]”

She began fleeing with her remaining followers.

A ritual to return to the Spirit Realm?

No time for that now.

She just had to escape.

Flee from Talhaim’s Rock Mountain, reach a hidden sanctuary prepared by her followers, and complete the ritual there to return to the Spirit Realm.

What mattered now was surviving.

If she didn’t, she’d die.

Belphegor frantically tore open space to create a portal—but—

[You think I’d let you do that, you lazy bitch?!]

Dulanea’s thunderous, profanity-laced voice shook the Spirit Realm, and the portal was forcibly slammed shut.

“[You fucking bastard!! L-Let me GO!!]”

Belphegor, overwhelmed with panic, spewed curses—but Dulanea only burst out laughing, mad with fury.

[I was blocked by Lucifer for centuries, unable to act.

But when you corrupted my Chosen, you laughed just fine, didn’t you?

Even if it costs me my divine essence—I will stop you.

You’re not getting away that easily, bitch.]

Belphegor had no options left.

No time for more curses.

She just ran—fleeing with her followers, desperately escaping the mountain.

“[Belphegor? Belphegor!! Come here instead! We have to fight together!! No, no!! NO!!!!]”

Leviathan’s desperate screams rang out from behind her, but Belphegor ignored them.

She bolted, dragging her followers behind her like her tail was on fire.

“[Please. No. No!!]”

She didn’t want to die.

She didn’t want to be annihilated.

She had lived too long.

Fought too hard.

Come too far.

And it was all because of that damn Saint.

If only he had fallen. If only he’d just been corrupted.

Then everything would have turned out differently.

That goddamn bastard.

Because of one idiot—so blindly, ridiculously righteous—this is what it had come to.

If she died like this, she’d end up just like Mammon.

And that was the one thing she refused to accept.

Anger. Regret. Despair. Fear. Terror.

With all those tangled emotions, Belphegor and her followers sprinted like mad.

And then, faintly—

A glimmer of hope appeared.

“O Lord of Sloth! There’s an opening up ahead!”

The Ketraltus of the White Sect. The mages of the Mage Tower.

The battle nuns of the War Sect who had just finished Satan.

And even Belia—none of them were chasing Belphegor.

Instead, they were joining forces to strike down Leviathan.

“[Belphegor!! BELPHEGOR!!!!!!]”

Leviathan’s agonized screams grew fainter and fainter.

Belphegor let out a trembling laugh.

She might make it.

No one was pursuing her.

Just a little further and she’d be off the mountain.

If she could just escape the Pantheon’s eyes and this battlefield—

Then she could open the portal again.

Once it opened, she’d retreat to the sanctuary and return to the Spirit Realm.

She just had to get back.

Once there, she could recover, rebuild, and rise again.

Belphegor was filled with hopeful expectation—

Right up until she saw them waiting beyond the horizon.

The 3rd Imperial Army Division, already deployed in a tight formation.

“Your Highness. We’ve spotted the demon worshipers attempting to flee. Sending coordinates now.”

Moments after the spotter’s report, the air shimmered—and a massive airship revealed itself.

From the ship’s command deck, Princess Almene, watching the mass of demon followers scurrying below, spoke with a cold edge.

“Use up the ship’s entire reserve of elixirs to cast a wide-area Stasis Field over their location.”

“Understood.”

The captain saluted and immediately began the massive incantation with the royal court mages. Almene glanced at them briefly, then continued her orders.

“General of the 3rd Division?”

[Awaiting your command.]

“Are the tow cannons ready?”

The 3rd Division commander chuckled over the comms.

[Of course. It was hell moving them here in time, but they’re locked and loaded. Forty 155mm tow cannons, all fully prepped.]

Almene synced her senses with Iomene.

And when she scanned the terrain around Talhaim’s Rock Mountain—

She confirmed it: there was only one viable escape route for any demon followers.

And when Iomene confirmed that Belphegor was fleeing in that exact direction—

Almene knew her prediction was spot-on.

The 40 cannons that had been stationed ahead of time were fully deployed and aimed.

“Stasis Field activated!!”

The airship’s captain shouted.

Bringing all the court mages had paid off.

Instantly, the fleeing Sloth Sect followers began slowing down rapidly.

Of course, the spell wouldn’t last long—not with a manifested demon lord among them.

But that didn’t matter.

Even a moment of slowed movement was enough.

“General?”

Almene gave the order.

“Fire.”

Moments later—

All forty 155mm tow cannons unleashed their payloads.

A synchronized volley of forty shells fired from multiple angles—

And then, in perfect unison, they fell directly onto the heads of the demon worshipers.

A flawless example of the 3rd Imperial Division’s precision strike capability—

each shell landing with terrifying accuracy.