The Snake God with SSS Rank Evolution System

Deiora’s smile widened as he raised a massive hand, gesturing for his soldiers to fall back.

"Withdraw. I don’t want to accidentally kill you."

The demon soldiers withdrew instantly, their disciplined ranks melting away as they gave Deiora a wide berth. Their weapons stayed raised, but their attention was fixed entirely on their commander—some in awe, others in palpable relief.

Celine tried to rise, her body trembling from her wounds.

"Let me assist—"

Deiora cut her off without looking back.

"You’re hurt, and I’d rather not have to worry about you while I fight."

Celine’s fists clenched at her sides. She shot a glare at Lilith, then at Isolde, but she didn’t argue further. She stepped back, her blade lowering as she watched her superior take the lead.

On the other side of the clearing, Isolde’s hands rose, and her Crown of Thorns materialized above her brow. The dark thorns lengthened, twisted, and began to bloom—petals of deep crimson unfurling like drops of blood given form. The flower pulsed with a faint, inner light, casting a soft, crimson glow across her pale features.

"Remember, Lilith," Isolde said. "Don’t let his fists connect with you directly. That’s your only warning."

Lilith’s threads stirred around her fingers, weaving into dense, layered barriers that coiled around Adam’s unconscious form, reinforcing Isolde’s blood shield.

"I know. Don’t repeat yourself." She paused, her crimson eyes gleaming with anticipation. "It’s been a long time since I’ve hunted something this wild."

Deiora’s laughter rumbled through the clearing, deep and genuine.

"HAHAHAHA! Wild? I haven’t been called that in years." He rolled his neck with a series of sharp pops, then settled into a low guard, his weight distributed evenly, ready to move. "But I suppose it’s fitting."

Isolde’s blood gathered around her, thick and roiling. "Keep him occupied," she spoke, "and I’ll find the opening."

Lilith’s threads shot forward.

Dozens of silver strands streaked toward Deiora from every angle, each one carrying a fragment of Soulreaver. The black blades hummed with contained power, their edges gleaming like shards of frozen shadow.

Deiora stood at the center of the storm, his massive arms crossed, his expression carrying the quiet confidence of someone who had nothing to fear.

The blades struck him and shattered.

Soulreaver’s fragments, blades that had carved through armor and flesh with ease, broke against Deiora’s skin like glass against stone. They dissolved into motes of silver light, scattering across the clearing like dying sparks.

Lilith’s eyes widened, her threads faltering for just a moment as the fragments reformed around her fingers.

’His body is like steel.’

Deiora shifted his weight and shot forward, his fist slamming into the ground between them. The impact was immense—a shockwave of concussive force that rippled outward in all directions, sending dust and debris spiraling into the air.

Lilith’s threads snapped up, weaving a barrier of silver silk, but the shockwave punched through it like it wasn’t there. She was hurled backward, her body tumbling across the rough earth before she caught herself, skidding to a halt in a low crouch.

"Now that’s a punch," Lilith said, pulling her threads back toward her.

Deiora straightened, rolling his shoulder with a low, rumbling hum.

"Fun, isn’t it?"

Isolde shifted, Her blood surged forward in a wave of crimson, a crushing tide that swept across the clearing toward Deiora’s legs. It coiled around his ankles, his knees, climbing up his thighs with relentless speed.

Deiora looked down, his expression shifting to mild surprise.

"Ah! You’re still using that same trick."

He flexed his leg, and the blood shattered—fragments of crimson scattering across the clearing like shards of glass. Isolde’s blood, hardened and reinforced, broke apart under the sheer force of his movement.

Isolde’s eyes narrowed.

’His strength is overwhelming. Even my blood can’t hold him for long.’

Deiora’s fist shot forward again, aimed directly at Lilith’s chest.

Lilith’s threads yanked her sideways, pulling her out of the path of the strike at the last moment. The fist passed inches from her face, close enough that she felt the wind of its passage ruffle her hair.

She landed in a crouch, her threads already reforming around her.

"Oh my, so close~"

Lilith’s hand shot forward, her fingers curling around a fragment of Soulreaver that had reformed at her palm. She hurled it like a blade of compressed shadow, aimed at Deiora’s throat.

Deiora’s hand came up, catching the fragment between two fingers. The black blade stopped mid-flight, held in place by his grip. He studied it for a moment, then crushed it.

The shard dissolved into motes of silver light.

Deiora’s cold eyes fixed on Lilith, his voice dropping to a low, rumbling murmur.

"Interesting weapon. But it won’t work on me." He took a step forward, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the clearing. "Do you have anything else?"

Lilith’s fingers curled, the fragments of Soulreaver reforming around her.

"I have plenty."

Deiora slammed his fists together, the impact sending a shockwave rippling through the clearing. A wide, eager grin spread across his scarred face.

"Good, good, GOOD! Show me everything you’ve got! Let’s fight until our bodies burn!"

Lilith’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise passing through them. Her voice carried a note of genuine curiosity as she gathered mana in her palm.

"I didn’t realize you were this much of a battle junkie."

Deiora’s hand drifted to his chin, his grin widening.

"Do I really look like one?"

Before he could savor the moment, Lilith’s psychic pressure slammed into his mind, a sharp, invasive force that clawed at his thoughts. At the same time, her threads shot forward—dozens of silver strands that coiled around his limbs, his torso, his throat, tightening like serpents.

Lilith’s hands came together, her fingers curling into a fist as she pulled the threads taut.

"It’s incredibly obvious, you know."

CRACK!

The threads locked into place, encasing Deiora in a cocoon of silver silk. His arms were pinned to his sides, his legs bound together, his body held in a web of unyielding strands.

Isolde’s hand rose. In her palm, a small sphere of compressed blood hovered, its surface gleaming like polished ruby. Her voice was calm, steady.

"Good work, Lilith. With this, I can finish him."

The sphere shot forward.

Celine’s hand reached out, her voice sharp with desperation.

"Lord Deiora, dodge—!"

BOOOOM!

The blood sphere detonated on impact, a massive explosion of crimson energy that engulfed Deiora’s position. The shockwave ripped through the clearing, sending dust and debris spiraling into the air. The ground trembled, and the soldiers on both sides stumbled back, shielding their eyes from the blast.

When the dust cleared, a crater marked where Deiora had stood.

The demon soldiers stared, their faces pale with disbelief.

"Impossible... Lord Deiora was defeated...?"

"That can’t be right..."

On the other side of the clearing, Bianca’s voice was a reverent whisper.

"Such devastating power... the Vampire Queen is no joke..."

Lilith let out a low, amused hum, her crimson eyes fixed on the crater.

"Heh. I thought he’d be stronger than that. How disappointing."

Isolde kept her gaze fixed ahead. Her voice was quiet, but carried a clear warning.

"Don’t celebrate yet, Lilith. He’s still standing."

A figure emerged from the smoke.

Deiora’s massive form stepped forward, his body wreathed in a dense, crimson aura that clung to him like a second skin. Veins of molten gold pulsed across his arms, his chest, his face, glowing with a fierce, inner light. His smile, when it came, was wide and eager.

"Ahhhh... finally, my body is warming up."

The demon soldiers erupted into cheers, their voices rising in a unified roar of relief and adoration.

"Oohhh!! Lord Deiora is still alive!!"

"Lord Deiora! Lord Deiora! LORD DEIORA!"

Their chant swelled, a thunderous wave of devotion that echoed through the clearing, shaking the very ground beneath their feet.

Deiora’s grin widened, his massive arms spreading wide as he drank in their adoration. His voice boomed across the battlefield, rich with satisfaction and dark delight.

"Louder! Let me hear your voices!"

The demons’ chant rose to a fever pitch, their cries echoing through the canyon like a battle cry.

"LORD DEIORA IS UNBEATABLE!!"

Isolde’s gaze remained fixed on Deiora’s aura.

"That’s his ability," she said. "He coats his body in aura, reinforcing his flesh and bones to an almost unbreakable state. His reflexes and his strength skyrockets." She paused, her eyes narrowing. "He calls it—"

"[Demonic Vajra Body]." Deiora cut off Isolde’s words with confidence.

Lilith let out a low, amused hum as she studied Deiora’s flexing form.

"Arrogant name. Demonic Vajra Body? A bit much, don’t you think?"

Deiora’s grin widened, his massive arms flexing as he struck a pose that was equal parts theatrical and genuinely impressive. The golden veins along his muscles pulsed with inner light, and his voice boomed with unshakable confidence.

"Arrogant? I earned that arrogance. I have the body to back it up, the strength to prove it, and the confidence to own it. What’s wrong with that? There’s nothing wrong with arrogance because arrogance is the proof of real power!"

The demon soldiers erupted into cheers, their voices rising in a thunderous wave of adoration.

"Lord Deiora speaks with the voice of a true warrior!!"

"His words burn with the fire of a thousand battles!!"

"That’s why he’s one of the Heavenly Kings!!"

Deiora raised his fist, clenching it tightly as the crimson aura around him flared, golden veins blazing like molten rivers across his skin.

"Then let me show you what that power truly means!"

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