The Devil king Solomon II

Having completed the somber task of cleansing the blood-soaked classroom, Solomon stepped out into the hallway, a sense of purpose radiating from his very being. Standing at the epicenter of the corridor, he stretched his hands toward the heavens, his voice resonating with ancient power as he uttered incantations that echoed through the air.

"Yigs kiom Hala yesh."

As the final syllables left his lips, a vibrant crimson magic circle materialized above the school building. Its intricate patterns shimmered with an otherworldly glow, pulsating with an energy that transcended mortal comprehension. It was a conduit of healing, an ethereal bridge between the realms of the mystic and the mundane.

The magic circle, now fully activated, worked its enchantments with precision and care. It emanated a benevolent force that mended the wounded bodies and souls of the injured students.

Their injuries faded away, leaving no trace of pain or suffering. Simultaneously, the magic reached out, gently brushing against the memories of all those who had been witness to the nightmarish events, erasing the traumatic recollections from their minds.

With a sense of finality, Solomon turned his attention to the officer, his gaze resolute and unwavering. The power he had wielded allowed him to manipulate time, and now he prepared to release the world from its temporal stasis. He raised his hand, poised to snap his fingers and return time to its natural flow.

The resumption of time was accompanied by a subtle shift, imperceptible to those unaware of the extraordinary events that had transpired.

The frozen stillness yielded, replaced by the gentle sway of movement and the hum of life returning to the school. Conversations resumed, footsteps echoed, and the world regained its vibrant colors once more.

As the officer's consciousness reconnected with the flow of time, he found himself facing Solomon, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. Unaware of the mystical intervention that had transpired, he blinked, momentarily disoriented, yet instinctively adjusting to the new state of affairs.

"What are we doing here?" The officer inquired, his voice laced with confusion. However, before he could receive an answer, his phone abruptly rang, interrupting the moment. Raising the phone to his ear, his eyes widened with sudden urgency, and he let out a resounding yell.

"Yes, sir!"

Reacting swiftly to the urgent call, the officer and his fellow teammates dashed out of the building, propelled by a sense of duty and the weight of an unforeseen development. Their footsteps echoed down the empty hallways, fading into the distance as they vanished from sight.

Meanwhile, the parents, who had been anxiously awaiting news and resolution, found themselves caught in a haze of bewilderment. The confusion that gripped the officer now extended to them, their faces reflecting a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

Slowly, they rose from their chairs, their footsteps carrying them away, as if drawn back to the safety of their own homes, their thoughts consumed by a torrent of questions and fragmented understanding.

With a sigh of relief, Solomon entered the classroom, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and reassurance. "Hey, buddy, let's go home," he called out to Ethan, his eyes meeting his son's as a sense of calm washed over them both.

Ethan turned his gaze toward his father, a glimmer of trust and familiarity shining in his eyes. In response, he quickly rose from his seat, eager to accompany Solomon on their journey back home. Together, they left the school premises behind, their footsteps marking the path toward solace and security.

However, as they arrived home, Solomon's demeanor shifted, a gravity settling upon his features. He beckoned Ethan into his room, their shared space of sanctuary, where they could speak freely.

Seated on the floor in front of Ethan, Solomon's hand gently caressed his son's hair, providing a comforting touch amidst the weight of their conversation. He sought to gauge Ethan's emotional state, asking, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Ethan's response, simple and genuine, echoed the innocence of his youth. "I'm hungry," he declared, revealing the immediacy of his physical needs.

Solomon chuckled, his laughter carrying a hint of nostalgia. "Of course, you are," he replied warmly, his smile gradually fading as the weight of his revelation pressed upon him.

"Listen, my son," Solomon began, his voice laced with both caution and determination, "You are still young, and I didn't believe the time was right to burden you with this knowledge. However, after the events that unfolded today, I have no choice but to share the truth with you."

As he spoke, Solomon's gaze remained fixed upon Ethan, the depth of his words penetrating the air between them. A flicker of sadness danced in his eyes, an acknowledgement of the heavy destiny that awaited his beloved son.

"I am the Devil King," Solomon confessed, his voice holding the weight of a secret revealed. "And, Ethan, my son, you are destined to inherit that role. Though I had hoped that by raising you in this world, you would be exempt from your heritage, recent events suggest otherwise. The other world, the realm from which I hail, is requesting your presence, indicating that the Aiber selection is about to commence."

The room fell silent, the significance of Solomon's words hanging in the air. The shadows of their newfound truth loomed, intertwining the fates of father and son, and paving the way for a tumultuous journey into a realm of darkness and unknown challenges.

Innocence radiated from Ethan's gaze as he questioned the unfamiliar term. "What's an Aiber dance?" he inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity, unaware of the weight of his father's revelation.

Solomon's expression softened as he sought to shield his son from the burdensome truth for a little while longer. "You'll understand when the time is right," he replied, his tone gentle yet tinged with an undertone of gravity. He understood that the complexities of Ethan's destiny would unravel in due course, but for now, he needed to ensure that his son's dormant devil side remained locked away, shielding him from the inherent darkness.

Taking a deep breath, Solomon rose from the floor, his movements deliberate and purposeful. His steps carried him toward a drawer, where he retrieved an ancient book adorned with enigmatic designs. It emanated an aura of mystery and power, a relic of ages past.

"It's time I returned to you your rightful possession," Solomon announced, his voice filled with solemn determination. He held the book, the Book of Lilivil, in his hands, its weight an embodiment of generations of knowledge and power. With a careful reverence, he presented it to his son, a torch passed down from one generation to the next.

Ethan's eyes widened as he took hold of the ancient tome, feeling the resonance of its arcane energy reverberate through his fingertips.

Though he may not have comprehended the full extent of his inheritance, he understood the significance of this moment.

"The Book of Lilivil is now yours to wield, my son," Solomon declared, his voice carrying both pride and trepidation. "Although you are detested by magic, the witches who served under me will be your strength.

You will know nothing of fear and nothing of defeat, for your father, The devil king, has rejected the gods and sustained the requirements… Lilivil is yours,".