Roy had no way of understanding the true nature of the mysterious space residing in his right hand. Even Aiwass, with all its knowledge, could only simplify its description as a "ship" capable of crossing the seas between worlds.
Roy didn't even remember how he had obtained this mysterious space. He vaguely recalled coming across a strange incantation and unintentionally reciting it in his sleep, which led to his first journey to the A Certain Magical Index world.
Later, when he died in the A Certain Magical Index world, it seemed as though he had fulfilled certain necessary conditions, which enabled him to travel back to his original world.
When Roy intentionally recited the incantation again to enter the Campione world, the mysterious space lodged itself within his right hand.
According to Aiwass, whoever created this mysterious space was an existence far beyond Magic Gods, perhaps akin to the "self" of the "10=1" concept in Aleister Crowley's system. Alternatively, it could have been an entity even greater, a being beyond Aiwass's comprehension.
Currently, Roy's right hand housed this mysterious space, while the Holy Right, or the Third Hand, held all miracles of Christianity. Together, these two right hands were Roy's greatest assets for the future.
This time, the ritual to summon the Heretic God had been influenced by the mysterious space in Roy's right hand. It pierced through the barriers of the world and connected to the Throne of Heroes in another dimension. By summoning the information of King Solomon's throne from that world, Roy had also opened a new route to it.
If Roy's prior journeys relied on the mysterious space to autonomously ferry him across the Sea of Worlds upon his wishes, then now, Roy had gained the ability to navigate three active routes: the A Certain Magical Index world, the Campione world, and the unknown new world where this King Solomon resided.
"Let's see which King Solomon you are!"
Roy's expression was stern as he clenched his fists. Regardless of which world Solomon hailed from, when summoned into this world as a Heretic God, he became a target for Roy—a Campione—to eliminate.
At the same time, Roy kept a close eye on Princess Alice. Since Solomon's spiritual foundation originated from another world, the witches' clairvoyance could no longer rely on the Netherworld for assistance. Instead, the witches and mikos present had to supply their own magical energy, which made the ritual far more dangerous.
Roy cared little for Mariya Yuri's condition, but if the ceremony endangered Princess Alice's life, he would not hesitate to terminate it. Though he considered himself a King driven by ambition, he also deeply valued the tenderness of those he cared for.
…
The seventy-two candles flickered and gradually extinguished. The mikos and witches, who had been channeling their magic to support Princess Alice and Mariya Yuri, began to wilt. Even Mariya Yuri eventually collapsed, unable to continue. Only Princess Alice, the world's most gifted witch, remained standing, completing the ritual on her own.
The foreign Seat's information began forming a spiritual foundation at the ritual's center. The rules of the Heretic Gods in the Campione world activated, gathering etheric energy from the atmosphere and humanity's faith and reverence for gods to create a physical body. A figure slowly took shape at the center of the ceremony.
"Pfft—!"
Princess Alice coughed up blood. Her body had been frail from the start. If not for Roy continuously infusing her with his authority in recent days, allowing her body—worn down by her immense spiritual power—to heal, she would likely have perished from exhaustion.
Even so, Alice was now at her limit. The excessive loss of spiritual power had severely injured her, and her once rosy complexion had turned pale.
The princess knelt on the ground, her trembling hands brushing aside the platinum blond hair covering her forehead. Forcing a weak smile, she looked up at Roy and said, "... King Roy, I've completed the ritual as you commanded."
"You've done well, Alice…"
Roy's voice was gentle as he turned and barked at the knight beside him, "...Erica!"
Erica immediately understood. Chanting a spell, she moved at incredible speed to Princess Alice's side, lifting her away.
The remaining witches and mikos, those who could still move, supported each other as they retreated. All of them stared in terror at the emerging figure of the Heretic God. They knew what would come next: a mythological battle, a war between gods and the demon king!
…
The figure at the center of the ritual fully materialized. It was a tall man, just as described in the Bible: mighty and intelligent. His slightly graying hair was tied into a single ponytail that draped casually over his chest. He wore a royal robe in red, white, and black, and around his neck was a gold ornament, akin to the adornments of ancient Egyptian pharaohs, symbolizing his status and authority.
His complexion was sun-kissed, as though he spent much time outdoors. His face was impassive, bearing a hint of solemnity, while his eyes radiated seriousness and a faint regal aura. The most striking features, however, were the ten rings on his fingers and the magical sigils on his hands and arms.
At a glance, the ten golden rings might have seemed gaudy, like the markings of a nouveau riche. But Roy knew better—those ten rings symbolized not wealth, but wisdom!
"King Solomon!"
Roy lowered his head slightly and shouted, his body ablaze with immense magical energy. The ground beneath his feet shattered with a deafening roar. As a Campione, his instincts and the restless blood coursing through his veins made it abundantly clear—this man standing before him was a Heretic God. Whether he was King Solomon or King David no longer mattered. What lay ahead was a brutal fight to the death.
The Holy Right's first authority, The Hand of Jacob activated—
"Moses Parts the Sea!"
Roy's raised right hand transformed into the shape of a blade, slashing diagonally from upper right to lower left with the force that once split the Red Sea. He was confident that if King Solomon delayed his reaction by even a fraction of a second, this hand-blade would carve through his left shoulder and down to his right abdomen, splitting him cleanly in two.
A flicker of surprise crossed the somber king's face. It was as though he was astounded to find himself in an unfamiliar world, all the while analyzing and observing this new realm using his extraordinary "wisdom."
It wasn't until Roy's strike was mere inches from his shoulder that the greatest king of Israel raised his left hand, intercepting Roy's wrist. The movement mirrored the technique of The Hand of Jacob—the same divine authority Roy wielded.
Roy's initial strike missed, but he immediately turned his palm into a fist and lunged again. King Solomon calmly opened his hand and caught Roy's punch mid-flight.
"Boom!"
The collision of their magical energies erupted into a hurricane-like shockwave, tearing the ground asunder and sending violent winds swirling through the air. The force pulled at everything nearby with a destructive ferocity. Had the witches and mikos not retreated quickly, even the residual energy from the clash would have been enough to rip them to shreds.
"The Hand of Jacob?"
Roy's eyes widened in surprise. The techniques King Solomon used were unmistakably drawn from the same source—the Bible.
But Roy quickly pieced it together. Jacob, also known as Israel, was the ancestor of the Israelites. As the greatest king of Israel, it was no surprise that Solomon also mastered these divine combat techniques.
Even setting aside Solomon's prowess in magic and sorcery, his physical combat skills alone were unparalleled.
Roy couldn't help but notice an unfair advantage. His right fist throbbed with a faint ache. While he fought bare-handed, Solomon wore rings that doubled as brass knuckles. This led Roy to suspect that his earlier assumption was wrong. Perhaps those ten rings weren't symbolic of wisdom after all, but rather weapons purposely-built for combat.
"Wait a moment, Your Excellency!"
Solomon's left hand gripped Roy's fist tightly as the two grappled for dominance. The king, his expression solemn, finally spoke. Yet, to Roy's surprise, his voice was relaxed, even slightly playful—a stark contrast to his majestic and imposing demeanor.
"Are you hoping to make a final statement or draft your will, King Solomon?"
Roy smirked coldly, his words laced with provocation.
"Well, if Your Excellency would allow me to say my last words first, I would be very grateful." (T/N: lol)
Roy froze for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
This king's appearance exuded dignity and his manner of speaking carried an imposing air, but the actual content of his words was completely at odds with his majestic facade.
For a brief moment, Roy began to second-guess himself. Was King Solomon employing his "wisdom" to feign weakness, baiting him into lowering his guard before launching a decisive counterattack?
Or perhaps, unfamiliar with this new world, Solomon was stalling for time—using conversation to adapt to his role as a Heretic God and better understand the nuances of battle in this world?