The Snake God with SSS Rank Evolution System

Deiora’s cold gaze swept the clearing, taking in the scattered bodies of demon soldiers, the blood-soaked earth, and the wounds on Celine’s back.

"Are they enemies?"

Celine’s jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration passing through her eyes as she pressed her hand against the wound on her back. Her voice came out sharp, clipped.

"I can say yes. They’re all enemies. I don’t know who they are, but those women are protecting the humans. They’re traitors to the demon race, Lord Deiora."

Deiora’s head turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over the group.

"I see. But I didn’t expect you to be this beaten, White Demon. Are they really opponents on a different level from you?"

Celine’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her voice came out low, strained.

"Forgive me, Lord Deiora. I was already worn down from fighting the one-armed knight before I encountered them. I wasn’t at full strength."

"As usual, you always have an excuse." Deiora said. "Still, to push the White Demon to this state... they must be worth paying attention to."

On the other side of the clearing, Franc’s breath caught as the name registered. His voice came out in a sharp, barely audible whisper.

"Deiora...? He said Deiora...?" His eyes widened, his hand tightening on his sword hilt. "That’s one of the Four Heavenly Kings!"

Reith’s head snapped toward him, his face pale. "Are you sure?"

Franc’s voice was low, tight with recognition. "I’ve seen his face in the reports. That’s Deiora—one of the Demon King’s most trusted commanders."

Bianca’s voice cracked, edged with disbelief. "One of the Four Heavenly Kings? Here? Why would someone that powerful be at the border?"

"I have no idea," Franc admitted, his jaw tightening. "But if he’s here, we’re in even worse trouble than I thought."

Isolde’s breath caught sharply. Her pale blue eyes widened as she stared at Deiora.

Lilith noticed Isolde’s shock and said.

"Hmm? Do you know him? Or—don’t tell me—he’s an old flame of yours?"

"Don’t say such nonsense. He’s just... an old acquaintance." Isolde replied.

Deiora’s cold eyes had already fixed on her, studying her with the same intensity she remembered. Despite the change in her hair, her face, her form—he had recognized her immediately.

"Ah. I was almost fooled at first. The change in your hair is quite striking." A faint, cold smile tugged at the corner of his scarred lips. "It has been a long time, Isolde Draven."

Celine’s head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Isolde Draven?! The Vampire Queen? The one who once served as the Demon King’s right hand?!"

"Yes. She once served the Demon King himself. But she left." Deiora tilted his head, his eyes glinting with curiosity and mockery. "I heard you settled in a small village and living peacefully... have you grown bored of that quiet life?"

"Still as barbaric as ever, I see. I thought you might have learned some manners by now. Clearly, I expected too much," Isolde replied irritably.

Deiora let out a booming laugh, his hands settling on his hips as his voice echoed through the clearing.

"AHAHAHA! I knew it. My guess was right—once you’ve tasted war, you can never truly settle into peace. You must be craving that thrill again, aren’t you, Isolde?"

"Oh my. It seems you two have quite the history. Should I be jealous, Isolde?" Lilith said, attempting to stir things up.

Deiora’s gaze shifted from Isolde to Lilith, his cold eyes studying her with the same weight he had given the Vampire Queen. A low, rumbling chuckle escaped his throat.

"And you. You’re the one who wounded my subordinate?" He said. "You seem quite confident in your abilities."

Lilith’s crimson eyes gleamed. She glanced at Celine, still nursing the wound on her back, and a slow, mocking smile curved her lips.

"Yes and I almost killed her too. Such a shame you had to interfere."

Celine’s voice cut through the tension, sharp and defiant. "That’s impossible. I was ready to counter your attack. Don’t assume you’ve already won."

Lilith raised a hand, her fingers curling delicately as she covered her mouth with an elegant, mocking gesture. Her voice carried a note of theatrical pity.

"How sad. Do you really think you still have a chance against me?"

Celine’s hands clenched at her sides, her fingers digging into the earth as she fought to steady herself. Her voice came out low, strained with barely contained fury.

"Lord Deiora. We cannot let those humans escape. For the future of the demon race, we must eliminate them now."

Deiora’s cold gaze shifted to her, a flicker of amusement passing through his scarred features. "You’re still bold enough to give orders to your superior." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "But I’ll allow it this once. You’re wounded. I’ll overlook the breach of protocol."

His attention returned to Isolde. "Isolde. Are you truly protecting those humans?" He tilted his head, his voice dropping to a low, probing murmur. "Or do you have another reason?"

Isolde met his gaze without flinching. "I have nothing to do with this. Lilith is the one who acted."

Deiora let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Oh? Is that so? You the one who always thinks before acting are telling me you just followed along? That doesn’t sound like you, Isolde."

Isolde’s gaze flickered briefly toward Adam’s unconscious form behind her, her voice carrying a note of reluctant admission.

"...You could say I’ve grown dull."

Deiora’s cold eyes followed her gaze, settling on the horned figure slumped against the rocks.

"Oh? So that man is the reason you’ve gone soft?" He took a step forward, his voice dropping to a low, amused murmur. "I smell something unusual on him. Like the scent of a dragon." His smile widened. "That makes things far more interesting."

Then Deiora lunged forward.

Isolde’s eyes snapped wide. "Lilith! Be careful—he’s not someone you can take lightly!"

Isolde extended her palm, and her blood surged forward, coiling into a dense crimson barrier that materialized between Deiora and the group.

Deiora’s fist met the barrier and stopped.

The impact sent shockwaves rippling through the clearing, cracks across the surface of Isolde’s blood shield.

Deiora stepped back, rolling his shoulder with a low, appreciative hum. His gaze lingered on the fading remnants of Isolde’s blood barrier.

"Still as troublesome as ever, I see." He cracked his neck, the sound sharp in the tense silence. "That barrier of yours is as annoying now as it was back then."

Isolde’s blood shifted, flowing back toward her and coiling around her form like a living shroud.

"Your fists are still as hard as stone. Some things never change."

Deiora’s grin widened, a flicker of genuine amusement passing through his cold eyes.

"I wouldn’t mind fighting you to the death again, Isolde. It would be a good way to settle old scores." He tilted his head, his voice dropping to a mocking murmur. "But tell me—aren’t you ashamed? Protecting such weaklings? Is this what you’ve become?"

Isolde’s gaze didn’t waver. Her blood shifted, tendrils reaching toward Adam’s unconscious form, weaving a protective barrier around him.

"Weaklings?" Her voice was cold, carrying an edge of quiet contempt. "If they’re so weak, why is your body covered in scars from fighting them?"

Deiora’s laugh was sharp, genuine.

"Ha! I’ve missed that sharp tongue of yours."

Lilith glanced at Isolde and said.

"Are you sure about this? If we fight these demons now, getting through their territory later will be... difficult."

Isolde’s head snapped toward her, her eyes sharp with exasperation.

"You’re just realizing that now? Is your mind even functioning?"

Lilith’s hand drifted to her cheek, her expression turning dreamy and distant.

"Mm... I’ve been so bored lately. The hunt—it clouds my judgment. I can’t think clearly when there’s prey to chase."

Isolde let out a long, weary sigh.

"Haaah... we’ll discuss this later. When Adam wakes up, I’m blaming you for all of this."

Lilith’s threads stirred around her fingers, a slow, dangerous smile spreading across her face.

"I have a better idea. Why don’t we just kill all of them? That would solve everything."

Isolde’s pale blue eyes remained fixed on Deiora’s massive form, her voice low and tight.

"Our opponent is one of the Heavenly Kings. They call him the Sky-Breaker Fist—his punches can shatter anything they touch. He won’t go down easily."

Lilith’s crimson eyes flickered toward the Melium soldiers, then back to Deiora.

"Then why don’t we just hand over the humans? It seems like we’re only losing ground the longer this drags on."

Reith’s face contorted with fury. His voice cracked, raw with indignation.

"What?! You were just helping us!"

Lilith’s smile was sharp, unrepentant.

"I helped because it was entertaining. But now? Looking at the situation..." She tilted her head, her voice dropping to a silken murmur. "Handing you over seems much simpler."

"Please! don’t hand us over... I’ll do anything... please..." Bianca said while crying.

Franc stepped forward, his mouth opening to speak but before he could, Isolde’s voice cut through.

"Stop it, Lilith. We’ve already committed to helping them. We don’t abandon people halfway."

Deiora let out an exaggerated yawn, his massive frame sagging with theatrical boredom. "Are you done yet? I’m getting tired of waiting."

A thin, wicked smile tugged at Lilith’s lips, her crimson eyes alight with cruel amusement.

"How perceptive of you. Thank you for your patience." She paused, bringing a single finger to her lips, her smile curving behind it like a blade. "And you’re right, it’s better to finish what I started. Prey doesn’t taste as sweet when it’s left half-caught."

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