§ Prologue: The Soul of an Artist

Two thousand years ago, at the southernmost point of Dilhade, the Fasima Groves of Domunfulus Island.

Fasima trees were tall and thin trees that absorbed toxins and miasma in the air through their leaves and branches, then filtered and purified them through their trunk. In other words, they had their own natural spell formulas built in. The fibers harvested from fasima leaves could be used to create extra absorbent fabrics for both magic and paint and were commonly found in painting canvases, while the sap from the fasima tree was used in paint. Even their branches were ideal material for paintbrushes.

It was because of these trees that Domunfulus was known as the holy land for painters. Over the years like-minded artists had gathered at Domunfulus and created a stronghold to defend the Fasima Groves from succumbing to the ravages of war, whether from demonic civil wars or conflicts between humans and spirits.

In the purified air of the Fasima Groves, one man currently stood facing his canvas, painting. His name was Farris Noin, and he too had come to Domunfulus Island to protect the groves. He wore loose beige clothing, with his sparkling blond hair artistically bundled into a ponytail. As he painted his brush moved across the canvas like an extension of his arm, rendering in both paint and magic.

When he drew flames in the sky, everything in flight burned to a crisp. When he drew dirt in the sea, the water parted to reveal islands. The fearsome power of creation magic was sealed within Farris’s canvas. His mighty power and refined magic technique were by-products of his efforts to create the ideal painting. In every white space of a blank canvas rested a piece of his soul.

Farris paused in the middle of his intense painting session and sighed; he had sensed a presence behind him.

“Am I interrupting?” a voice asked.

Farris turned to see a young man in black clothes. For some strange reason, his face couldn’t be seen. There was some kind of magic casting a dark shadow over him and obscuring his true face.

“No, I was just about to take a break,” Farris replied.

“It’s a beautiful painting.”

The young man stepped forwards and stood right behind Farris. The canvas was filled with bare branches and trunks. It was decidedly abstract in its depiction, yet it felt as if its subject would start to glow at any moment.

“So this is what this grove looks like in your Eyes.”

“How did you know it’s this grove?” Farris asked, showing an interest in the young man’s words. While the strokes on the canvas could be interpreted as trees, Farris had painted them too small to be a grove. Yet the young man had correctly guessed what Farris was painting in a single glance.

“I merely followed your gaze. Your Eyes were looking over the entire grove, not just the tree before you. It was fascinating.”

The corner of the young man’s mouth peeked out of the shadow, revealing a smirk.

“What’s so fascinating?”

“That this is what you’ve made after starting into the abyss of the grove. You were looking into the fasima’s abyss, yet at the same time, you weren’t looking at all.”

Farris was impressed. What the young man was saying was correct. What he had been drawing wasn’t the true nature of the fasima trees.

“Can you tell what I’m looking at?” Farris asked.

“Not at all. I’m unfamiliar with artwork like this.”

“If you guess correctly, I’ll paint you something of your choice.”

“Oh?”

This time, the young man was the one who sounded interested.

“You’re not a demon from this island. And if you’re not an artist or painter, you’re one of two things: an invader or a potential patron.”

“Doesn’t sound like I’m welcome here.”

“Only those with worthless ambitions would seek the power of an artist.”

“How strict.”

Farris stared at the young man. He was closer than before, but his face was still unclear.

Artists had excellent Magic Eyes. Advanced use of creation magic required the ability to see the true nature of objects. The fact that Farris Noin—a renowned master of creation magic—still couldn’t see through the disguise meant this was no ordinary young man.

Farris gathered his magic power in his Eyes and stared deeper into the shadows.

“I want a ship,” the young man said. “One that can fly through the sky of destruction.”

“You jest. Nothing can fly in the glittering sky of the Sun of Destruction. Any sky fortress that attempts to would be burned and fall instantly.”

“All except one.”

Farris looked at the young man.

“The one you’ve hidden beneath this island and have spent the past one hundred years painting—the one that’s nearly complete. The Sky Fortress Zeridheavens,” the young man said.

Farris fell speechless. Several seconds passed in silence before he managed to reply.

“How...did you know?”

“I heard some rumors, so yesterday I went in secret to check it out.”

Farris frowned. It wasn’t easy to sneak around a stronghold of artists with excellent Magic Eyes.

“What are you trying to do?” Farris then asked.

“Bring down the Goddess of Destruction,” the young man replied casually—as though bringing down a castle was much the same as a walk in the park.

“Go home,” a voice behind the young man snapped. Out of nowhere, demons emerged from the grove in large numbers. They were all artists like Farris.

“You’re wrong. Zeridheavens isn’t a weapon. It’s a work of art,” said a middle-aged man—Van, the founder of Atelier Domunfulus, the artist and painter association formed on the island.

“I know,” the young man replied.

“If you just need our power, we can come to terms and sell it to you. If you need a ship created, we can work something out. But the art of an artist is their soul.”

“That’s what I’m asking for,” the young man said. “I’m asking him to sell me his soul.”

The group of artists surrounding the young man straightened, their Magic Eyes turning sharp with clear hostility. They all drew magic circles and took their magic brushes into their hands.

“Just by your attitude, I can tell you’re a powerful demon,” Van said. “A lesser one wouldn’t have been able to sneak onto this island alone. But the soul of Atelier Domunfulus is not for sale. And if we have to make you leave here, we will.”

They started drawing Iris magic circles with their brushes, prepared to attack the young man if he made a single move.

“Please stand down, Master Van,” Farris said, flustered.

“Don’t worry, Farris,” Van said. “This is our holy ground. We will not forgive those who trample across it.”

Van drew a magic circle with his brush. The young man moved his fingers slowly as Van used Iris immediately—but the spell didn’t activate.

Van’s magic circle had been covered in white paint. Farris had rewritten Van’s spell with his own Iris.

“Stop, Master Van,” Farris said. “Continue and this holy ground will sink.”

“Is he that strong of an opponent?” Van asked.

“Does decadent beauty have a scent?” Farris replied in a quiet tone. “The lack of a form makes it all the more apparent.”

“Wha—?!” Van was at a loss for words. He immediately understood what Farris was trying to say. “Are you saying this man is the leader of Dilhade, the one who defeated the Sorcerer King Bomiras—Demon King Anos Voldigoad?”

Farris must have seen through the shadow. He turned to the young man whose face was still in shadow. “Am I wrong?” he asked, though his voice was firm with conviction.

“Impressive Eyes you have there,” the young man said. “I cannot afford to have the gods find me here, so please excuse my rudeness in not revealing myself.”

The shadow around Anos vanished, revealing his face. At the same time, the artists around him suddenly began to tremble, as if their bodies were responding to a threat their minds had yet to recognize. Their superior Magic Eyes meant they could see into his abyss—and the vast amount of magic power residing there made them shake in fear. They buckled at the knees, at any moment liable to fall before Anos and bow at his feet.

Even Master Van was struggling to remain standing. The only one who could move freely was Farris.

“You may take me wherever you wish,” Farris said. “I offer you my life, Demon King Anos. But I will sell neither the Atelier nor my soul.”

“What if I say I won’t allow it?”

“My brush and my soul exist for beauty. And though you may have the power to defile both, a tainted soul will merely rot away.”

Farris stared at Anos without hesitation. He knew what he was risking by rejecting the Demon King and potentially igniting his ire, but this was one thing he refused to yield.

“Hmm.” Anos looked away from Farris and back at the canvas he had been painting. “It truly is a beautiful painting. It’s the Fasima Groves that exist in the abyss of your heart, no? What you’re looking at isn’t the trees, but the forest. That’s why what you’ve drawn differs from reality.”

Farris listened to the Demon King’s words silently. There was nothing he could say; he knew this was the kind of moment when his life could be taken at any instant.

“I don’t know anything about paintings, but I think I can understand what you were thinking here. This painting is a wish. The Fasima Grove absorbs toxins and purifies them. Likewise, you wish to see the wars that plague this era absorbed and purified.” Anos turned back to Farris. “If only the world were nice enough not to need such paintings, right?”

The look of stoic conviction in Farris’s eyes was quickly replaced by shock. He could never have imagined that the man commonly known as the Demon King of Tyranny could so easily read his heart.

“Or am I wrong?”

“No,” Farris replied in wonder. “That is correct.”

“Then as promised, you have to draw me something,” Anos said. “Draw me what you truly wish to paint—a picture of peace.”

It was like a bolt of lightning had struck Farris.

This was what Farris had believed: No matter how much he wished to paint peace, he was unable to, and so, his wish could not come true. But perhaps this was the moment he had been waiting for—the same moment that he had also been sure would never arrive. The opportunity he had always wished for... Perhaps it was in front of him right now.

He chose his next words carefully.

“My art only exists by comparing imagination to reality. Though I can imagine peace...I have never seen the real thing.”

“That’s why I’ll bring the Goddess of Destruction down. Once she’s gone, more people will be saved. I will end the chain of hatred,” the Demon King declared boldly, “and put an end to the Great War.”

It sounded like an impossible dream. No one was capable of such a thing.

“Are you serious?” Farris asked.

Anos stared back at him. His eyes were calm and without hesitation. “I want to buy your soul, Farris. I won’t ask for it for free. I’ll buy it and pay you in peace.”

A tear fell from Farris’s eye. At once, he knelt before Anos and hung his head. The Demon King Anos was a notorious figure, but Farris didn’t doubt him in the least. He was the only person to have ever understood the true meaning behind Farris’s painting of the Fasima Grove—before and after this moment.

In the Mythical Age, when war seemed eternal and every voice seemed only to cry out with the desire to destroy their enemy, not one demon dared to speak of peace. Not a soul remained who believed the war would end—there wasn’t anyone who even thought such a thing. War was just a part of everyday life.

This was the first time in his life Farris had met someone who understood him. Farris wanted to draw what he desired. As an artist, that was his greatest motivation for being.

“I vow to present you with a painting of peace, Your Majesty.”

Shortly after this vow, Farris and the Atelier Domunfulus slowly came to understand that the Demon King was dead serious about ending the Great War. His plan was thus: bring down the Goddess of Destruction from the sky and reduce the number of lives lost in the world, then join hands with the Goddess of Creation, the Great Spirit, and Hero Kanon to pave the path for reconciliation.

To that end, Farris devoted himself to the creation of the Sky Fortress Zeridheavens. As its creation neared completion, Anos’s plan also progressed well. Before long, the perfect chance to bring the Goddess of Destruction down had arrived. Anos then set out for Domunfulus Island, and was greeted by a fleet of winged sky fortresses armed with countless cannons, capable of flying freely through the sky of destruction.

“What do you think, Your Majesty?” Farris asked.

“Splendid workmanship,” Anos replied, staring into the abyss of Zeridheavens. “But there’s one thing I’m curious about.”

Anos pointed at the front of the sky fortress.

Farris followed his gaze with a contemplative look. “Do you mean the drawing?”

“Yes.”

Anos was pointing to an area where countless magic circles were connected, a single point where magic power was being supplied. At that point, a painting of the Fasima Grove had been drawn. If a spell formula had been carved there instead, it would have increased Zeridheavens’s performance even more. Flying through the sky of destruction was no easy task, and Zeridheavens needed every boost it could possibly get. But there were some things Farris had refused to compromise on.

The Sky Fortress Zeridheavens was art, not a weapon. Cannons had been attached, true, and its outer walls had been fortified accordingly. But Farris could not bear to carve an ugly spell formula onto his work. He knew it was holding back the ship from becoming a proper weapon, yet he had left it as is.

For someone who had officially joined the Demon King’s Army, what he had done was most likely incredibly naive. But he was an artist first and foremost, and even in this fight, he would not readily defile his soul. His subordinates had all accepted his feelings and remained silent on the matter, even if their silence risked their lives.

But there was no way the Demon King, audacious and bold in trying to achieve world peace, would ever overlook this. Farris knew he would be ordered to fix it. But it wasn’t something Farris could fix in this lifetime. Zeridheavens was complete, just like this.

He was prepared to pay for this decision with his life. At this level of completion Zeridheavens could easily be adjusted without him. He may no longer be around to draw the Demon King his painting of peace, but he was sure Zeridheavens would make it happen. Indeed, it was his dearest wish as an artist to wield the brush—but Farris had accepted this outcome.

“What a terrible drawing. Your mind must have been elsewhere.”

Farris’s eyes rounded.

“Do it again. But this time, make it beautiful.”

He stared at his master’s face, speechless.

“I won’t entrust my life to an ugly ship. A bird that doesn’t believe in itself cannot fly.”

Farris knelt and bowed his head.

“You have until the morning. Got it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

At that moment, Farris made another vow to himself: He would draw that painting of peace for his master, no matter what.

§ 1. The Peaceful Goddess of Destruction

Morning.

I opened my eyelids to get up for the day and was immediately met by two blue eyes. The small head they belonged to flinched in surprise, golden pigtails brushing against my cheek at the motion, and Sasha Necron froze on the spot, wordlessly turning red in the face.

Light streamed in from the window. The door to my room was open, and the tasty smell of bread was already wafting inside. Mom was probably preparing breakfast.

“Hey,” I said to the girl before me.

“G-Good morning...”

Sasha greeted me awkwardly, with her body still bent over me. Her hand was held up, frozen in the middle of doing something.

“It’s rare to see you up so early.”

“Yeah... I may not be the greatest at waking up in the morning, but I have no problem staying up all night...” Sasha replied slowly, as though she wasn’t sure how to excuse herself.

“Have you been waiting here all this time for me to wake up? How patient of you.”

Sasha turned even redder. “Th-That’s not it! I spent the night at home. I only came over in the morning. I even greeted your mother! I’m not lying!”

“Why are you defending yourself?”

Sasha closed her mouth and averted her eyes.

“Considering our relationship, no one would blame you for sneaking into my room at night,” I said.

“Um...” Sasha struggled for words. “Does that mean I can come over whenever I want?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at me hopefully.

I returned her look with a smile. “I won’t repel you.”

“Excuse me?” Sasha squeaked. “What do you mean by repel? It sounds ominous.”

“I’m saying I won’t do it. Sensing an unfamiliar magic power while I’m sleeping is normally grounds for retaliation, but I wouldn’t make that mistake with you.”

Sasha hung her head in thought for a moment. “What if you’re half asleep?”

“Bwa ha ha. I’m not like you. Do you think the Demon King struggles to get up in the morning?”

Sasha sighed in relief.

“Though there was that one time I thought Kanon had appeared and I burned Dilhade down.”

“You’re even worse than me!” Sasha yelled right beside my ear.

“It was just once. An unfortunate overlap of unfavorable conditions.”

“What kind of unfavorable condition burns down a whole country?!”

“Don’t worry. In your current state, you’d easily be able to stop me from going that far.”

“That may be true...”

“So I have no worries about being sleepy.”

“Think about how I feel too!” Sasha screeched again.

“Hmm. Energetic as always. I’m wide awake now.”

I slowly sat up and drew a magic circle at my feet. The circle rose up towards my head, transforming my pajamas into the Demon King Academy uniform.

“Don’t treat my voice as your alarm clock,” Sasha muttered.

“So what did you need?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“You were waiting for me to wake up. You must have needed something.”

“Oh, right. Um... Uhh...”

Sasha averted her gaze, her eyes flicking around the room nervously. It seemed she hadn’t expected to be asked such a question.

“The child of destruction was watching you sleep all night,” a voice said.

“Hah?!”

The sound of light footsteps brought a golden-eyed girl to my room. Her silver hair reached down to her collar, and her pale, clear skin was nearly as light as her hair. It was Arcana, my little sister.

“She spent all night staring at you with a smile on her face,” Arcana said.

“Oh?” I looked over at Sasha.

“She’s wrong! What are you saying, Arcana?!” Sasha marched up to Arcana furiously. “I came over this morning. I even greeted you!”

“Calm down.”

I grabbed her head from behind and held her back gently.

“Ugh... But...”

“Child of destruction,” Arcana said with an emotionless look. “I was trying to tell a joke.”

“What?”

“My brother, father, and mother all like to joke. You like to quip back at their jokes. Everyone ends up laughing. I was envious, so I tried to joke. But that hurdle is still too high for me.”

Sasha gave her a look of exasperation. “You should’ve just said so.”

“I thought jokes weren’t disclosed in advance.”

“In your case, it’s not a joke until you disclose it.”

Arcana frowned with a serious look. “The hurdle is more like an insurmountable wall.”

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Sasha said. “Your mother and father are just speaking normally, and when Anos jokes, he’s mostly serious anyway.”

Sasha turned her unimpressed gaze to me, giving me a piercing look. It seemed she thought this entire family joked around on the regular.

“If they’re like that normally, doesn’t that mean they are just even more amazing when they try to joke?” Arcana asked.

“U-Um... It’s not about a Jio Graze being a Grega...”

“Of course we are,” I replied.

“Hey! Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking!” Sasha snapped at my joke.

“See? You can rest assured, Arcana,” I said. “This is the Goddess of Destruction. She’ll catch every tiny joke you try to tell and destroy it.”

“That makes no sense at all! If I destroyed every joke, I’d have no sense of humor,” Sasha grumbled.

“Don’t you get it, Sasha? What you’re destroying isn’t the joke. It’s our abdominal muscles and straight faces. In other words, your new role in this peaceful world is to use your powers as the Goddess of Destruction to make us bust out laughing.”

“Nobody told me this!” Sasha yelled.

I gave her a nonchalant look. “This world is only going to get more peaceful from here, Sasha.”

“You came up with that on the spot! I just know it!”

“Does that mean the Goddess of Destruction will govern laughter?” Arcana asked.

I nodded thoughtfully. “Joke all you want, Arcana. No matter how poorly worded or dull your jokes may be, the Goddess of Abdominal Muscle Destruction will change it into laughter.”

“H-Hey! I never agreed to that!” Sasha raised her voice even more in protest.

“Child of abdominal muscles. I am the blasphemous comedian who tells jokes of absurdity,” Arcana said.

“Was that meant to be funny?!”

Arcana blinked in surprise. “Was it funny?”

“Don’t look at me...”

“I think I was trying to tell a joke. But maybe I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

“If you tell a joke with that kind of mindset, it definitely won’t end up funny.”

“The child of abdominal muscles is a harsh critic,” Arcana said, hanging her head sadly.

“Th-There’s no need to feel so down about it!” Sasha replied. “It’s okay. Jokes aren’t that hard to tell. Let’s think of some together.”

Hmm. At the end of the day, Sasha was a caring person.

“Are you sure?” Arcana asked worriedly.

Sasha responded with a smile. “Don’t hold back! What kind of jokes do you like?”

“I’m not sure of my own feelings,” she said slowly. “But I think what I want—is to make everyone burst into laughter with a single signature joke.”

“Aren’t you aiming a bit high for your first joke?!”

Just then, a quiet giggle could be heard. I turned to see Misha standing by the door. The wind coming in through the open window teased her platinum blonde hair into a flutter, making her soft hair seem even lighter.

Blue eyes creased gently as she smiled. “Arcana is funny.”

“You really think so?” Arcana asked.

“Yup.”

Misha nodded, making Arcana blush faintly.

“It went well thanks to the child of abdominal muscles,” she murmured.

“If you want to thank me, stop calling me that.”

“Sorry. Child of signature jokes.”

“Are you stupid?!”

Another peaceful morning. I chuckled. “Is it time for breakfast?”

“Yup. Your mother said to call you down,” Misha replied.

“Let’s go.”

We left the room and went downstairs.

§ 2. Mom’s Stone Oven and Dad’s Advice

“Good morning, my dear Anos!”

Mom turned my way as soon as I stepped into the kitchen. She was beaming, mitts covering both her hands as she carried a hot iron tray of bread to the table. The soothing scent of freshly baked bread wafted closer with every step she took.

“Good morning,” I said.

“Today’s breakfast was made using the new stone oven Misha created! It fits so many more dishes now, I love it!”

“Huh. When did you make that? No wonder it looks diff—” Sasha looked over at the stone oven in the kitchen and froze. She did a double take, then held a hand to her forehead with a look of dread. “Say...is that...”

“An Equis Oven,” Misha replied simply.

It was a stone oven made from the reconstructed parts of Equis, who had once been the cogs of the world.

“Is that safe?” Sasha asked nervously.

“Don’t worry, there isn’t any trace of their power left,” I said. “It’s just a stone oven that uses despair to fuel the fire that bakes the bread of hope. The more you use it, the more hope fills the world.”

Of course, doing so didn’t make a dramatic difference. Its power was trivial. But over a long period of time, it’d add up to a large amount of hope.

“Safety guaranteed,” Misha said.

Sasha exhaled in relief. “Well, as long as you’re sure. I never thought you’d turn them into an oven for Anos’s mother though—”

“Grr... Creee...”

A voice echoed through the kitchen, interrupting Sasha.

“Hey, did you hear something just now?” she asked, looking suspicious.

“Some of their past consciousness may remain, but in the end, they’re still just cogs. As long as they keep baking bread, they’ll understand their duty eventually,” I said.

“Even if that were the case, why would you have your mother use something so gross?”

Right as mom was about to close the door of the Equis Oven the fading fire inside of it leaped back to life.

“Did you think—” a voice said from the Equis Oven. “Did you think this mere bread could be converted to hope?”

“Oh my! Oh my, oh my!” mom said, grinning happily. “Little Equis is such a hard worker. You want more bread, is that it? Don’t worry! I had a feeling you’d say that.”

Mom went over to the corner of the kitchen, where she had placed another iron tray filled with dough shaped into ready-to-bake loaves.

“Ta-da! I prepared lots in advance!”

“N-No! I didn’t mean I wanted to bake more!” Equis groaned as more iron trays were shoved into the oven.

“Bake lots, Little Equis, and make lots of peace!”

“I won’t forget this, woman! The fire of this stone oven shall one day blaze into the flames of despair and burn this world to ash!”

“Oh my! Oh my oh my!” Mom smiled from ear to ear. “There’s no need to sulk like that, Little Equis. I know you want to cook all kinds of food. We have lots of guests this morning, so there’s still gratin and veggies and meat and fish to go!”

Mom stacked a number of iron trays on her arms and giggled. “Look! See how much there is for you to cook!”

“Nooo! I didn’t mean that!”

“Oh, don’t be so modest now! It’s been so nice to have someone to talk to in the kitchen. And with Little Equis around, I can make so much more food!”

Mom hurriedly put more trays into the stone oven.

“Gwaaah! It burns...the despair is burning!”

“Wonderful. Have fun burning away!” mom said cheerfully. She slammed the oven door shut, silencing Equis once more.

“What was it you were saying, Sasha?” I asked.

“Safety guaranteed indeed...” Sasha muttered. Misha nodded beside her.

“Sorry Anos. It’ll take a little longer, so can you wait over there?” mom said.

“Got it.”

We left the kitchen and moved to the living room.

“Huh? Where did Arcana go?” Sasha asked, looking around.

“The workshop, most likely. Dad gets lonely when mom is busy in the kitchen. He’s got a big deadline coming up and if he sulks too much he might not finish in time,” I said, taking a seat in a chair.

While I was talking, Misha leaned towards Sasha.

“Did you do it?” she whispered.

Sasha flushed faintly and hung her head. “It’s not like I had to do it...”

Misha blinked twice. “Did something happen?”

“I was a little slow... The timing was bad. That’s all.”

Misha placed her hand on Sasha’s head and patted her gently. “There, there.”

“I’m okay. It’s not a big deal,” Sasha said lightly. She seemed to be bluffing.

“Hmm? What are you talking about?” I asked.

“N-Nothing... It’s nothing!” Sasha stuttered, averting her eyes.

“Sasha said she wanted to wake you,” Misha clarified.

“Ah! Aaah! Aaah!”

Sasha covered Misha’s mouth in a fluster.

“I said it’s nothing!”

“I see.” I stared straight at Sasha.

“It’s not like that! You know Misha sometimes wakes you up, right? I was just saying that I couldn’t do that because mornings are hard for me, then Misha said I should wake you up today. I can’t refuse her, so I...”

Sasha had started to rant, but once she saw my face, she trailed off, looking away from me with a frown. “That’s all...”

Misha blinked, Sasha’s hand still holding her mouth shut.

“So that’s why you stayed awake until morning,” I said.

“Half of it is Misha’s fault!”

Misha tilted her head curiously. Sasha forced her head back upright and made her nod instead. Misha blinked in confusion.

“She said it was my turn next, and didn’t let me sleep. That’s why...”

“I see. So that’s why you were so disappointed when I woke up by myself.”

“I wasn’t disappointed! It was all Misha’s idea in the first place. I never cared about it!”

“Then it doesn’t matter that you failed,” I concluded.

Sasha shoved her face into Misha’s shoulder.

“I get it!” a loud voice agreed. “I get exactly how Sasha feels!”

The low voice boomed through the room.

“And you too, Anos!”

I turned to see dad walk in with a gentler expression than usual.

“Ah, youth! From my point of view, the two of you are too bright to even look at. Ha ha!”

From dad’s position in the room, the morning sun backlit the rest of us. It was no wonder he couldn’t see.

“This may be unwanted advice from your old man, but from my experience, the two of you should try to be more honest with each other. Or you may have some regrets in the future.”

“Hmm,” I said. “Do I look dishonest to you?”

Dad nodded with a look of supreme understanding. “You’re the Demon King, Anos. Are you sure you haven’t been holding back without realizing it? You do have a position to protect, after all.”

“Oh?”

“But dad knows that’s not what you’re truly feeling!”

Hmm. My true feelings, huh? I might have been influenced by my environment and circumstances. Perhaps dad could tell I hadn’t fully acclimated to this new era of peace.

“I know your old man may be nothing compared to the great Demon King of Tyranny, the man who saved the world, but I’m still your father. I’ve watched you for a long time. I can tell how you’re feeling just by looking at you,” dad said with a strangely wise look. It almost looked like that time—when my father from two thousand years ago had appeared.

“First, you’ll find Sasha so pitiful, you’ll grant her wish sooner or later. No?”

Sasha looked at me in question. I replied with a smile. “Who knows?”

“Next, you’ll find Misha pitiful for waiting up all night with her,” dad said, pointing a finger at me smugly. Misha tilted her head curiously.

“When did we move to Misha?”

“Trust me, I know what I’m saying.” Dad then leaned towards me and whispered, “It’s great men, after all, that experience the finer things in life.”

He sent me a pointed wink.

“I have no problem with it! But the eyes of society may not agree. I’ve given it some thought myself—but in the end, what matters most is your happiness. I’m on your side, Anos. Always. There’s no need to say it out loud. Instead of making one wait, become the Demon King of a Tyrannical Night and save both of them!”

He slapped me in the back and beamed at me warmly. “Follow your heart.”

Get back to work, dad.

§ 3. School Life in a New World

The Demon King Academy Delsgade.

Misha, Sasha, Arcana, and I were walking down the corridor when the sound of laughter suddenly reached my ears. I casually looked over with my Magic Eyes and saw practically all of class two gathered in a circle, talking among themselves, black and white uniform intermingling.

“But seriously, the world just went through a crazy reincarnation. Couldn’t we have at least another half year off school?” one student said, complaining.

“I know, right?” replied another. “Just the other day, we were literally fighting for our lives while the world was on the brink of total destruction. Don’t we deserve a little more rest and relaxation?”

“I don’t think any amount of rest can help me recover from my fatigue. I mean, just think about how many times we died!” said another male student.

“Ugh, same—I could barely get out of bed this morning,” said a female student. “It was like something was trying to drag me back to the other side.”

“Is it because of our poor Ingall? Oh, I know! Let’s ask Lord Anos to give all the white-uniformed students a break!”

“Ooh, that’s a good idea! If the Fan Union asks him, he might be happy to listen.”

“Hey! Why only the white uniforms?” a black-uniformed student pointed out. “Ask him to give everyone a break.”

“Huh? But I thought white-uniformed students were weaker and frailer, no?” she replied. “Black uniforms have inherited the blood of the founder, so they have perfect regeneration abilities.”

“That’s irrelevant!” the previous student said. “There’s no connection between royal lineage and recovery rates!”

“Ah! Is that prejudice against royalty I hear?”

“I’ll tell the teacher you said that!”

“Discrimination is bad!” a few of the students exclaimed at the same time.

The class burst into laughter.

“Well, at least it all ended peacefully,” one female student said after the laughter had died down.

“What, you feeling emotional?” another student asked.

“I mean, if you think about it, hasn’t most of our school life been pretty intense?” she said. “Think about it. We went to Azesion and got imprisoned by some humans who were at war, then a god became our teacher, and then we went to Aharthern on an excursion.”

“Don’t forget we went to the underground world while the dome literally almost fell on top of us,” another student chimed in. “And did you forget that entire fight we had with that Sorcerer King from two thousand years ago? And the literal war waged on us by gods?”

“I seriously thought I was gonna die,” a male student said. “I actually died at least ten times.”

“One hundred and eleven times for me. I’m the best at dying,” another student said.

“It’s not a competition...”

“Lord Anos went from student to teacher to peacemaker of the entire planet. Surely he won’t be coming back to the Demon King Academy,” one student said.

“Our days of hell are finally over!”

“We can finally experience a bright youth!”

“Farewell, Demon King! So long, tyrannical days of terror!”

“Welcome back, our rose-colored youth! Nice to meet you, school life in the warm sun!”

The door opened with a clack. I stepped into the classroom and the black-uniformed students all turned to look at me with fear etched on their faces. All across the room several voices nervously responded to my appearance.

“Ah... Gah... Gyeeeh!”

“Th-The Demon King... Lord Anos...”

“Oh... You’re here...”

“Uh... Um... We said nothing... Ha ha...”

I turned around and looked back at Sasha, who was still standing by the door.

“What’s wrong, Sasha?” I asked. “Come inside already.”

Misha and Arcana couldn’t come inside because Sasha was blocking the doorway.

“I was just thinking about how you could’ve waited a little longer to come in. Look how terrified they are,” she said, walking forwards with a sigh. Misha and Arcana followed her soon after.

“Hmm.”

Unlike two thousand years ago, the world was no longer in a constant state of peril. It made sense for a lot of the students to have let their guards down, and I had no reason to think badly of them for it.

“At ease, everyone,” I said to the class at large, many of them still visibly trembling. “Did you think I’d get angry over you having fun among yourselves? I haven’t forgotten the contributions you made to Dilhade during the war.”

“Our contributions...”

“Did they cancel out our mistakes?”

“That means the next mistake we make...”

“...will mean instant death!”

Everyone held their breath, their faces pale with despair.

I cackled. “What kind of misunderstanding is this? But it’s comforting to hear such lively voices. Peace truly warms the heart,” I said with a kind smile.

They stiffened even more.

“For even death to be too light a punishment...”

“Are we gonna perish...?”

“No no, Lord Anos turned the cogs that controlled the world into a water mill...”

“In other words...”

“Even perishing isn’t enough...”

One of the black-uniformed students gulped nervously. Perhaps my choice of words was too outdated. I had to speak in a way that was less prone to misinterpretation.

“Don’t look like that. I’m a nice guy, am I not?” I said.

“Y-Yes, you are!”

“Of course you are.”

“There’s no one in this world kinder than Lord Anos.”

“Then smile. Just like you were before,” I said.

The black-uniformed students all started laughing. But their smiles were more forced than before.

“What’s wrong? Don’t hold back. Laugh. Or are you incapable of laughing before me?”

“No, of course not!” they immediately replied. “Aha ha ha! Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

The students proceeded to laugh and cheer at the top of their lungs.

“Hooray for Lord Anos! Hooray for Dilhade! Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Peace is the best! Demons are the best! Aha ha ha!”

“Hmm. Well, good enough. What do you think, Sasha?” I asked.

Her disapproving glare was sharp enough to cut steel. “It’s a total dictatorship in here...”

“Lord Anos!”

Just then, eight white-uniformed students approached me—specifically, the girls of the Anos Fan Union. When they got close, they immediately asked me questions, eyes hopeful and expectant.

“Are you attending class today?” asked Jessica.

“Will you be in class from now on?” asked Maia.

“Today is a special occasion. I won’t be on the podium, but today’s lesson will work better if I’m present for it,” I answered.

“I see!” Jessica said.

“At least we get to take today’s class together!” Maia nodded happily.

“How have your choir duties been going?” I asked. “You’re still students with lots left to learn, so if you find yourselves struggling to keep up with class, just let me know.”

“No, we’re doing fine! Thank you for worrying about us!”

“We’ll do both our schoolwork and choir duties perfectly!”

They both saluted me energetically.

“Do your best,” I said.

“We will, Lord Anos!” they replied in unison before returning to their seats. The moment the two sat down with the rest of the Fan Union they immediately squealed at each other in delight.

“What should we do?!” Jessica said. “We got to have a surprise conversation with Lord Anos!”

“Let’s make today a memorial day!” Maia suggested. “For an average day blessed by Lord Anos’s concern!”

“Great idea! Getting to hear Lord Anos’s ‘Do your best’ on a normal day basically means Lord Anos is cheering for us every day!”

“Having Lord Anos cheer for us every day means the Fan Union can keep going on forever! Kyaaah!”

“Hey! Weren’t we meant to be doing our best at school and the choir?!”

“They sound lively today,” Lay said. He and Misa had entered the classroom and walked up to my seat.

“I’d be worried if they didn’t,” I replied.

Misa laughed awkwardly. “Left by themselves, Ellen and the girls can hype each other up for days. It’s a little concerning.”

She looked over at where the Fan Union girls were taking turns imitating my earlier words about doing their best. After a moment, she turned back to us. “But they’re doing a great job with the Demon King’s Choir, which is more than I can say for myself.”

“What’s with that kind of talk?” I asked. “If you want work, I can give you some. There’s an important duty with your name on it somewhere, I’m sure.”

“O-Oh no, I couldn’t. Besides, I still want to study more,” Misa said, waving her hands in a fluster.

“I can’t imagine there’s much more for you to learn at school.”

“The knowledge and magic technique of my true form can only be accessed when I’m in that form,” she conceded. “And all I’ve ever done is work for the unitarians, and they’ve basically lost their purpose now...”

For a long time, Dilhade had been split into two between royalty and hybrids. While it still wasn’t entirely unified now, it was clear from the way the black and white uniform students were chatting with each other that the gap between them was gradually closing. At the very least, it seemed like the world Misa wished for—one where a hybrid could meet her father without restriction—had come to be.

“That’s why I’d like to find a new dream. A dream just for me,” she said.

“I see.”

Misa was someone who always moved forwards, no matter the circumstances. I had no doubt she’d find a new, good dream for herself soon.

“What will you do from here?” Lay asked, taking the seat in front of me.

“I’ve got a few things I’m thinking about,” I said. “Today’s lesson is a part of that. You should help me out if you’re free.”

“Sure thing,” he replied with his usual refreshing smile. “Come to think of it, do you know where the Sword of Three Races went?”

“Last I saw it was stabbed into Sarjieldenav. What about it?”

“I think it was blown away by the blast between La Sencia Traloth and the light of the end, but when I call for it it won’t come to me.” Lay held his hand out in demonstration; light gathered in his palm, but in the space where the Sword of Three Races would normally appear, there was nothing.

“Do you think the reincarnation of the world has something to do with it?” I asked, looking over at Misha.

She shook her head. “I didn’t touch Evansmana.”

“Could the sword have broken under the pressure?” Sasha asked.

“I considered that, but as long as it isn’t completely destroyed, it should naturally regenerate over time,” Lay explained. “I’ve waited quite a while already, but there’s still no response.”

“Shall I help look?” Misha asked, pointing at her Magic Eyes.

“After class, then,” Lay said. “I’m not in a rush.”

The Sword of Three Races could only be used by Lay, so even if someone else found it first, it wouldn’t be a problem.

“Huh? The bell’s about to go off, but I don’t see Zeshia or Eleonore anywhere. Naya too,” Sasha said, looking around the classroom.

The bell rang just after she spoke. The door to the classroom then opened, revealing Shin, in all his usual sharp and menacing glory. He marched up to the podium.

“Huh? Is it just Mr. Shin today?” one student asked.

“What about Mr. Eldmed?” another added.

At that moment, a wolflike howl echoed from outside the window. A clattering sound followed, getting fainter and louder by turns as it closed in on the school in a somewhat meandering path.

“Bwa ha ha! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Kyaaah! Watch where you’re going, Mr. Conflagration King!”

Gleeful, cackling laughs were accompanied by an unmistakably girlish scream. I looked out the window to see a pumpkin-shaped carriage racing through the sky. Driving the carriage was the Conflagration King, wearing a top hat and happily waving a whip as he steered the beast in front of him—not a horse, but a certain gelatinous dog.

The dog ran with all its might, pulling the rattling wheels of wood. A large magic power wrapped around the pumpkin carriage, making it accelerate.

Naya stuck her head out of the window of the pumpkin-shaped cabin. “M-Mr. Conflagration King! It’s going to crash!” she yelled.

Eldmed laughed. “Rest assured, Bookworm. It’s not going to crash. It’s not like that at all!”

“O-Okay.”

“It’s being crashed! Go, dog! Charge, charge, chaaarge!”

“Whaaat?!”

The shrill scream that pierced the air was drowned out by the deafening crash that followed. With a mighty smash that shook the walls of the Demon Castle Delsgade, the pumpkin carriage crashed through the classroom wall and skidded across the floor, only stopping when it hit the teacher’s podium.

Eldmed jumped out of the carriage and turned to face the class. “Good day, everyone! How are you enjoying this new world full of the unknown?”

He spread his arms wide, releasing several doves from seemingly nowhere. They flew straight out of the classroom, leaving a trail of sparkling confetti and streamers that were accompanied by mindless party music.

“This is your first lesson post-world reincarnation!”

Eldmed tapped his cane against the blackboard furiously and magic runes appeared.

“World! Training!” he said with dramatic emphasis.

“We will now begin the lesson,” Shin said in a cool voice.

§ 4. World Training

The door to the pumpkin carriage opened with a creak. Naya stepped out of it awkwardly, shrinking back as she bowed her head. “G-Good morning...”

She rushed over to her seat and sat down.

“Now, let’s start with a general overview of today’s lesson,” Eldmed said. “World Training is how we prepare to approach the abyss of this new world. The world that once turned cheerfully according to the will of Equis was reborn through La Sencia and Ar Ent Ertonoa. You all knew this much already, yes?”

He twirled the cane in his hand.

“Now, as for the specifics of how the world changed,” he said, pointing the cane at a white-uniformed male student before him. “What would be your answer?”

The male student thought for a moment, then answered as best he could. “Um, from what I’ve seen, there hasn’t been any notable change. Dilhade and Midhaze are as they were before. The land itself has barely changed either...”

“That’s right, yes, you’ve said it well!”

The student’s expression relaxed at the Conflagration King’s praise.

“At a glance, nothing has changed,” Eldmed said. “That is the important part. Why? Because the one who recreated the world is the Goddess of Creation, who’s sitting right over there!”

Eldmed pointed his cane at Misha. She nodded back.

“Drastically changing the world would only trouble the current inhabitants. Release people into pure, undeveloped land, for example, and all you’ll do is incite a war over natural resources. And how does a country define itself with no borders? All that and more is why she recreated this world while changing as little as possible.”

Certain areas of the world had actually been changed from their past incarnation, but that could be addressed later. Today’s lesson had a different focus.

“So where has the world changed?” the Conflagration King asked the student again.

“Where...”

“From what you can see, nothing notable has changed. So where has it been changed?”

The white-uniformed student considered the question carefully.

“If you can’t see it...” Eldmed said encouragingly.

“Then it changed somewhere that can’t be seen?” the student answered hesitantly.

“Yes! Yes yes, that’s exactly right! You’re on the right track now. It’s something that cannot be seen. What does that mean?”

“That means...it’s order?”

The Conflagration King grinned. “Order! Correct! The biggest change in the world after its reincarnation is in its laws—in other words, the power the gods called order. Now, how did order change?”

“Lord Anos said something about how the old order was tilting the world towards destruction. But in the new world, destruction and creation are balanced, so that no longer exists. Is that right?”

Eldmed nodded with a pleased look. “Wonderful. You’ve got it correct.”

In the recreated world, life would cycle through without being destroyed. Firedew would no longer be stolen from the Firmament of the Gods.

“But why didn’t they just get rid of destruction altogether?” a student suddenly asked.

“Yeah! Why can’t we be immortal like the gods? We can just live in peace and not have to think so hard all the time,” another student agreed.

“Bwa ha ha. Good questions, you two!” Eldmed grinned gleefully and pointed his cane at the students who spoke. “Now, it’s only natural to wish for a world without destruction. If there were no death, then most problems in life wouldn’t matter. And if no one could die, then war would seem trivial. However!”

The Conflagration King made a large leap and landed with dramatic flourish, spreading his arms as light fell upon the blackboard—where the word “Impossible” had been written.

“That is impossible! Isn’t that right, Goddess of Creation?” he asked.

Misha nodded again. “The Goddess of Creation does not have the power to create an immortal world.”

“Did you all hear that? This will be in the test! Remember: The Goddess of Creation does not have the authority to alter the world to her will. She does not, even though the Cogs of Fate that once ruled our world have been thoroughly dismantled!” Eldmed said succinctly. “But how could that be? The Goddess of Creation, unable to create the world how she desires. Doesn’t that sound strange?”

The Conflagration King looked at the students. They were all considering the reason with serious expressions.

“What are your thoughts, legendary hero?”

Eldmed pointed at Lay. I had only discussed this topic with a small number of people so far, so Lay was hearing all this for the first time.

“So the Goddess of Creation is still bound to the order of the world that she makes?” Lay said, thinking out loud. “As long as there’s a world she’ll be influenced by its order. She can’t deviate too far from it.”

“Correct. But this creates another delightful question.” Eldmed cackled with laughter before pointing at Sasha. “Which came first: the world or the Goddess of Creation?”

“The world,” Sasha replied without any hesitation—after all, it was a matter involving her own birth as well. “Before Militia was born, there was already a world, one created by the previous Goddess of Creation Elenesia. Whenever a world reaches its limit, the current creation god perishes; they use the moment their source approaches destruction to create the next creation god. It’s their last act of creation.”

“What if we climbed even further back in time? How was the first creation god born?”

Sasha struggled to answer. The answer she had just given came from Militia’s mother, the previous Goddess of Creation Elenesia. But she didn’t know anything from before that—especially not all the way up to the very first creation god.

“I don’t know. There’s no way of confirming anything either,” she mumbled.

Eldmed snickered. “Indeed, indeed. Such a thing is difficult to investigate. Nevertheless, answer me this: Did the gods come first, or did the world come first? Which theory do you support?”

Sasha brought a hand to her mouth in thought before replying. “If I had to choose, I’d say the gods...”

“And why is that?”

“If the world was born first, it would break apart without order to maintain it. I can’t imagine it lasting for very long without the gods.”

Without order, worlds would perish. A world without gods was too unstable to exist on its own.

“In that case, let’s assume the gods came first. Was it only the Goddess of Creation who was born first, or were there other gods too?” Eldmed asked. He pointed at Misa to answer.

“Um, I think it was only the Goddess of Creation. I can’t imagine multiple gods being born at the same time by accident...”

“Bwa ha ha! Good answer. Now, for my final question: How was the first creation god born?” Eldmed pointed his cane at Naya. “What do you think, Bookworm?”

“H-How? Um... They popped into existence?”

There was a brief moment of silence before laughter filled the room. The unexpected answer left everyone laughing, with Eldmed cackling the hardest.

“Bwa ha ha! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! Popped into existence, you say? An entire creation god, born with a pop! What kind of sound is that, Bookworm?”

“Wh-What kind? It’s the sound of being born, I guess?”

“I see!”

The other students in the room stifled their giggles.

“I-I’m sorry,” Naya apologized.

“No, no, it’s correct!”

“Huh?”

Naya blinked at the Conflagration King in confusion. He grinned back at her.

“We don’t know for sure if there was a sound, but we know for sure that something happened, because if nothing happened, nothing would have been born! Something had to have existed already for the first creation god to come into being.” Eldmed leaned on his cane with both hands. “Could something pop into being in an empty world, Bookworm?”

“Do you mean the order of sound? Like the God of Gospel?”

“Yes yes, order! At the very least, something similar to order had to exist in the world beforehand. Otherwise how could a creation god be born?” Eldmed shook his head with a look of utter delight. He then straightened himself and continued. “However! That brings us to a new problem. If order existed before this world was created, could other things have existed too?”

Naya gasped. The entire classroom stirred with a clamor. Unlike the harmonious, peaceful air that once filled the room, the atmosphere now was thick with tension.

“Are there...gods? Outside of those in this world?” Naya asked slowly.

Eldmed grinned in place of an answer.

“Who planted those cogs in all those gods in the first place? Was that merely coincidence? Something like that would be closer to a miracle. But if so, then who performed the miracle? Equis claimed they used the stolen firedew to do so, but is that really the truth? Firedew indeed went missing from both the Firmament of the Gods and the earth. But what if it wasn’t consumed—what if it was transferred? For what? And by whom?”

He sent his magic power to the blackboard through his cane.

“Thus my conclusion.”

A large circle was drawn on the blackboard, labeled as Militia’s world. Another circle appeared beside it with a question mark inside. Eldmed tapped it with his cane.

“What if there are other worlds besides this world?”

§ 5. The Demon King Express

Silence fell. The students appeared to be carefully processing Eldmed’s conclusion, and all the information given before. No one seemed to be taking the matter lightly—each of them recognized that this World Training was far different than their regular class.

Naya spoke first. “B-By other worlds, do you mean there’s another world with a sky like ours, a sea like ours, and humans and gods like ours?”

“Nope!” Eldmed replied. “We don’t know what kind of worlds they are, Bookworm. But how exciting, no? Outside of this world, there possibly exists an unknown, unfamiliar, unexplored world! One where the answers to all the mysteries Equis left behind—the cogs implanted in the gods, the existences of purists and misfits, the evolution of the world, where the firedew really went—may exist. No, they have to be there!”

The Conflagration King spread his arms once more and bellowed with laughter.

“It reeks, yes, it reeks so! The stench of unprecedented danger!” he said, grinning from ear to ear as he turned to me. “The stench of enemies to the Demon King.”

“That hasn’t been decided yet,” I said.

The tension in the classroom eased a little.

“Exactly!” Eldmed agreed. “Which is why we must confirm it for ourselves! Is there a world outside our own or not?”

“That doesn’t sound like something that can be checked easily,” Lay said. “No one has ever seen the outside of this world. All alternate dimensions exist within the boundaries of this world.”

“And what are your thoughts on that, Goddess of Creation?” Eldmed asked. “Can you explain what’s going on at the boundary of this world?”

“Okay,” Misha said. She got up and walked over to the blackboard, then sent her magic power into it. “The Dark Firmament exists above the sky and below the ground.”

A black sky was added to the area above Militia’s world already drawn on the blackboard.

“The farther you get away from this land, the more the Dark Firmament extends, eventually becoming nothing. In this empty sky is where the Divine Realm exists.” She added the Firmament of the Gods inside the Dark Firmament. “The Dark Firmament extends in perpetuity. There’s no end to it.”

“What if you fly faster than the Dark Firmament can extend?” Eldmed asked.

“When you fly upwards above the sky, you end up reaching the sky below the ground.”

“In other words, the sky of this world isn’t uniform. There’s a distortion somewhere. Flying straight upwards shouldn’t make you change direction and appear back at the bottom of the world. We can conclude, then, that the sphericity of the world is being maintained by order,” Eldmed explained. He changed the diagram on the blackboard, making the world a sphere. “Suppose there are other spheres outside of our sphere, made and maintained by different orders. Would those count as other worlds?”

“Lay’s right. You cannot exit the sphere through normal means,” Misha said.

“Which brings us to this.” Eldmed tapped the dog-drawn pumpkin carriage beside him. “Do you know what this is?”

Misha blinked a few times. “Equis’s wheels.”

“Correct. Let us assume someone from another world sent Equis and the Cogs of Fate into our world. That would mean that these wheels are capable of crossing worlds. They can exit this world just as they entered it. Or so I thought.” Eldmed shook his head disappointedly. “Alas, it was a failure! A proven, utter failure, the greatest failure known to man! I took a quick detour to the Dark Firmament on the way to school today, but these wheels were incapable of leaving the world.”

“Are you sure there’s even an outer world in the first place?” Sasha asked doubtfully.

“Believe simply that there is one,” Eldmed glibly suggested, “and use your wisdom, Goddess of Destruction. How might we use Equis to cross worlds? If we can prove it is possible, at the very least we can confirm that Equis came from outside this world.”

Sasha looked down in thought.

“What about the rest of you?” Eldmed asked the class. “Any idea will do. We’ll test anything once!”

Eldmed turned back to the other students to urge them to speak—when the door suddenly burst open.

“Crap! We’re super late today!” Eleonore yelled in a panic. Her long black hair fluttered over the scarlet red uniform of the Hero Academy.

“I slept in... I’m sorry...” Zeshia murmured, poking her head out from behind Eleonore.

Eldmed laughed. “You’re just in time. Help think of a way for us to leave this spherical world.”

“Whoa! I just got here and have to start with this?!” Eleonore stared at the blackboard, scratching her head in confusion.

“Mr. El...” Zeshia said hesitantly. “Introduction...”

“Oh, that’s right. Yes yes, go ahead,” Eldmed said.

Zeshia brightened up immediately and whirled around. “Enne... It’s time to introduce yourself... I’m here for you.”

Another small girl entered the classroom after her. She had wings growing on her head, and she wore the same Hero Academy uniform as Zeshia and Eleonore.

The girl was Ennessone. Zeshia had requested that they go to school and learn together, and so Ennessone would be attending Demon King Academy starting from today. Technically, she was enrolled as a student of the Hero Academy and was a cultural exchange student here.

“Um, some of you may know me already, but hello. I’m Ennessone, and I’ll be learning with you from today. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Enne is Zeshia’s little sister... Please be nice to her...”

Zeshia bowed alongside Ennessone. The students all clapped to welcome her. Unsure of what to do next, Ennessone’s wings folded against her head.

Hmm. She seemed a little nervous. While it was only natural to be shy in front of new people, as she was now a student, first impressions were very important. I should give her a chance later to meet everyone properly.

“So what’s this? Why is it a sphere?” Eleonore asked Misha quietly.

“It’s a diagram of order,” Misha explained.

“I see, I see. Hmm. Okay, I got it! I got it, but isn’t it impossible to get out? The end of the world folds into a loop and prevents anyone from leaving,” Eleonore said, giving her perfectly reasonable answer.

“It’s okay... Enne and Zeshia can get out with their usual trick,” Zeshia said confidently.

“Hmm? Usual trick? Which trick?”

“Let’s do it...Enne.”

Zeshia smugly raised her arms straight, parallel to the ground. Behind her, Ennessone imitated her pose and grabbed her shoulders.

“The Demon King Express...is departing now...”

“Choo-choo!” Ennessone cheered.

The two began rotating their hands and walking around the classroom while making train noises.

“Ah... Um, Zeshia, Enne. I don’t think that’ll work,” Eleonore said.

Zeshia’s and Ennessone’s shoulders slumped in disappointment.

“She said it wouldn’t work,” Ennessone mumbled.

“The Demon King Express...should be able to go everywhere though...” Zeshia said.

The two stood sadly in the middle of the room.

“Hmm. That’s an idea,” I said. All the students turned to look at me. “It might just work. Let’s try it.”

“Are you crazy?! A Demon King Express?!” Sasha yelped.

“Bwa ha ha. We’re trying to get to an outer world we don’t even know exists. Do you really need to ask?”

“That...may be true...”

I stood up and made my way over to Zeshia and Ennessone. “I’ll serve as the front carriage,” I said to them.

“Can the Demon King Express...go outside the world?” Zeshia asked.

“We can give it a try.”

I smiled at them, and they grinned back.

I turned on my heel and casually held my arms out in the same pose Zeshia and Ennessone had just demonstrated. The two of them did the same behind me as the other students watched on, dumbfounded.

“What are you all waiting for?” I said. “We’re doing it.”

“Yes, my liege,” Shin replied from where he was watching over the class. He took his place behind Ennessone, expression as stony as ever.

“The height difference...” Sasha muttered.

“Big and small,” Misha agreed.

“H-Hey!” one black-uniformed student called out.

“Right! We should go too!” said a second black-uniformed student.

“We have to redeem ourselves here!”

The other black-uniformed students nodded and rushed out of their seats to line up behind Shin. The Fan Union girls had already formed a train of eight and chanted a quick cheer about connecting as they docked on at the end.

Sasha looked at Misha and tilted her head in question. After a moment of silent communication, the two sighed in resignation and joined the end of the Demon King Express. Lay, Misa, Eleonore, and the rest of the students followed them, forming one long chain.

I glared forwards and declared, “The Demon King Express is departing.”

“Understood,” Shin replied. “Departing now.”

We rotated our arms while shuffling forwards.

“Choo-choo,” said Shin, his deep voice echoing through the room. The Demon King Express proudly paraded through the classroom.

“Um, Anos? Just wondering... Are we really going to get to the outer world like this?” Sasha asked.

“Choo-choo,” Shin said again.

“Don’t choo-choo me!” Sasha exclaimed.

“He’s serious...” Misha murmured.

“How are we meant to leave this world like this?” Sasha asked, utterly confused.

“Aha ha... I don’t get it either. But it’s Lord Anos we’re talking about, so maybe he has a plan,” Misa said, making Sasha think harder.

“Maybe, yeah,” Sasha said. “Shin’s choo-choo sounds so serious. Is that the key to leaving this world?”

“In that case, we should give it our all too!” Eleonore said brightly.

Everyone started making train noises with serious expressions. Our rotating arms moved like wheels, while our bodies were like carriages. But it still wasn’t enough.

“Gyze.”

I connected the Demon King Express with a magic link.

“I see, so it’s group magic... Will we be able to leave the world if we sync our magic power with the spell formula?” Sasha murmured.

“Sasha, your arms are falling,” I said. “Misha, your rotation is slow. Everyone, breathe in time with me. We are a train, got it? Your arms are the wheels, so you should be rotating them in sync. Maintain the same rhythm, the same pace, the same interval.”

“Yes! Lord Anos!”

The students desperately matched my breathing and rotation speed, keeping the interval between carriages even. We used the space between desks as a rail, marching through the classroom. Eventually, the train that had first come together as a jumbled mess became one entity.

After enough time had passed in this way, the carriages of our hearts linked, powering the rotating wheels of emotions. A steam whistle that shouldn’t have existed blew. Perhaps it came from someone’s heart. We had truly become the Demon King Express, in body and soul.

“Good. That’s the spirit,” I said.

“The spell formula’s kind of delicate this time,” Sasha murmured to herself. “What kind of great magic needs us to be in sync with Anos?” She gasped when she noticed my feet come to a stop. “It’s over?”

The Demon King Express stopped, the Gyze link vanishing soon after. Sasha stared closely with her Magic Eyes.

“Wonderful,” I said. “You all made a splendid train. I couldn’t have done it alone.”

“So with this...?”

“Yes,” I said, turning to my subordinates to best show my appreciation. “With this, the pretend train is over.”

“What happened to leaving the world?!” Sasha yelled at the top of her lungs.

“Have some patience. That comes next. Today was the first day of classes, so I wanted to do something to help Ennessone get used to class.”

“Why couldn’t you have said that beforehand?! I thought you were about to use a spell to lead us outside of this world!”

I cackled. “Leaving the world through a pretend train? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Sasha looked extremely unimpressed. “So what are you going to do? Start over from the beginning?”

“No. This actually served as a good hint. It may be worth trying to create for real.”

Her eyes rounded. “You’re making a train?”

I nodded. “With windmills and water wheels.”

§ 6. The Waterwind Wheel of Hope

At the back gate of the Demon King Academy was something that hadn’t existed before the world had reincarnated: a row of bronze water wheels and windmills. Each time they turned, their respective blades released bronze particles that were carried away by the water and wind. In the air, the particles created a sparkling path towards the enchanted forest.

The students gasped at the magnificent view.

“Wow, the water’s flowing backwards!” Eleonore exclaimed.

“How...mysterious,” Zeshia said, staring curiously at the rotating wheels.

There were multiple waterways connected into the ground, and the water current within them appeared to be flowing upwards.

“It’s not magic... Is it order?” Ennessone asked me, wings on her head twitching.

“It’s called the Waterwind Wheel of Hope—a new order of this world created from Equis’s Cogs of Fate,” I replied, glancing over at Misha.

She nodded. “Waterway door.”

With that short chant, a giant magic circle was drawn beside the water wheel, creating a giant door etched into the ground. The door slowly opened to reveal the waterway that continued downwards.

“Take a good look at how it works inside,” I said, jumping down through the door. Using Fless, I followed the underground waterway upstream. The underground was spacious, with plenty of space above the water to fly, so no one would be getting wet. One by one, everyone followed me through the door.

“There are so many water wheels...and windmills!” Zeshia gasped, eyes sparkling in excitement. “Enne... Shall we do the Demon King Water Wheel?”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!”

Eleonore looked at the two of them curiously. “Hmm? What are you doing?”

“Zeshia is blade one of the water wheel...”

“And Ennessone is blade two!”

They straightened their bodies and flew side by side, hips touching. One then tilted forwards while the other tilted back, such that their bodies formed a cross symbol when viewed from the side.

“Clatter clatter... Rattle rattle...” they both said as together, they turned like a water wheel.

“O-Oh, I see. Impressive! A real water wheel!” Eleonore said, the compliment sounding a bit strained. But there was someone else who was watching the Demon King Water Wheel with a look of real reverence.

“Wow...”

Of course, it was my little sister, Arcana. Her usually emotionless voice held a note of wonder to it.

“Such an elaborate performance, made so easily. I would never be able to do such a thing,” she said.

“Hmm? What are you saying, Arcana? You don’t have to copy them, you know?” Eleonore said with a giggle, holding up an index finger.

“Child-blessed child. I wish to refine my jokes and improve my understanding of the arts. I believe that is the mortal way of living.”

“Oh, I see. You’ve finally found your goal.”

“Is that what it is?” Arcana asked, unsure of her own feelings.

“I think so. Also, if other people hear you call me the ‘child-blessed child’ they might misunderstand. It’s kind of an embarrassing name.”

Arcana blinked at her. “Isn’t it a good thing?”

“It is, but as a nickname, it’s a little too blunt. Can you come up with something else?” Eleonore asked.

Arcana lowered her head in thought for a while. “Fertile child,” she said.

“That’s even worse!”

Arcana frowned.

“How about you just call me Eleonore?” Eleonore said.

“Is my taste in names blasphemous as well?” Arcana asked, clearly dejected.

“Aaah! No! That’s not the case at all! Oh, I know! Why don’t you try to name me using my personality as a guide?”

Arcana approached Eleonore, staring at her closely. “You are always carefree and smiling,” she said, then declared, “Peaceful child.”

“Um... Sure! It’s still a little embarrassing, but I like it much better!”

With Eleonore’s approval, Arcana smiled bashfully.

“Is it better to name people based on their personality?” she asked, then thought for a moment. “Aggressive child.”

Sasha immediately flew over, shouting angrily. “Why is Eleonore the peaceful child, but I’m the aggressive one?! I’m not like that at all! I have no idea who you’re talking about!”

“Didn’t you come over because you knew exactly to whom I was referring?” Arcana muttered contemplatively, leaving Sasha temporarily lost for words.

“A-At any rate! Just call me the child of destruction like before!” Sasha said, resigning herself to her fate. Apparently, to Sasha, the child of destruction nickname wasn’t related to her personality.

Just then, Zeshia, still spinning with Ennessone, approached Arcana. “Arcana. Zeshia wants a nickname too...”

“You have many siblings,” Arcana said, thinking of Zeshia’s features out loud. “Herring roe child.”

“She’s not a fish!” Eleonore yelled reflexively.

“Does that make the peaceful child the herring?” Arcana continued.

“Hey! You don’t have to go there!” Eleonore scolded her jokingly.

“Are you all paying attention?” Misha asked, sticking her head between them. Since I had told everyone at the beginning to take a good look, she had gone to warn them.

The two people spinning together like a water wheel confidently declared that they were.

“Sorry, child of creation,” Arcana apologized.

“I-I’m looking too! I’ll make sure Zeshia and Ennessone are paying attention as well,” Eleonore said awkwardly.

“Unfortunately, you’ll have to look later,” I said. “We’re here.”

A large open gate had come into view before us. The waterway continued through the door, past which was a room filled with blinding white light. The room was spherical and lined with quietly turning windmills.

“This place...is familiar,” Zeshia murmured.

“Is it the depths of Delsgade?” Eleonore asked.

“Yes. I moved the door that opens from the Divine Realm to the Dark Firmament here.”

“Does that mean this waterway is connected to the Firmament of the Gods?” Lay asked.

I nodded. “The Waterwind Wheel of Hope works by circulating the despair that exists within the many orders of the Firmament of the Gods.”

I floated into the room, landing on a platform inside, and continued my explanation, turning to face the students who landed after me. “This is what used to be Equis and Beltexfenblem. If they truly came from outside this world, we can assume they had prepared a way to go back—the same way they moved the firedew out of this world.”

Misha blinked a few times. “My Divine Eyes weren’t able to see the cogs buried within the gods,” she said.

“I see!” Eldmed said gleefully, mouth curled into a smirk. “In other words, the railroad out of this world already exists, but it only responds to Equis and the Cogs of Fate?”

“The Waterwind Wheel of Hope will be remade into a train,” I said, “and become the Demon King Express—the train that can go down any railroad.”

Even if there was a railroad out of this world, we had no way of knowing how it worked. But if we made a train that could adapt to any kind of system, it wouldn’t matter, regardless of our ignorance. We just had to keep trying, and as long as the railroad truly existed, eventually we’d find something that worked.

“Can you do it?” I asked.

Misha nodded. “Recreating it is possible. But moving it will be difficult.”

“That won’t be a problem,” I said. “Since we have just the right people here for the job.”

The students’ jaws dropped in shock.

“Um, Lord Anos...are you referring to us?” one student asked.

“Are we leaving the world too?” asked another.

“This isn’t just a theoretical lesson?” said a third.

“Of course it isn’t,” I replied. “That’s what the World Training and the Demon King Express are for. Experiencing an unknown world will be a valuable memory for you all once you become demon lords and govern nations.”

The students looked horrified, and they whispered to each other in faltering voices.

“Is he serious...?”

“Wouldn’t governing a nation be easier than this?”

“Going somewhere even Lord Anos hasn’t been to before...”

“Don’t worry. Anyone who gets in the way can stay back,” I said.

The students immediately stirred in response.

“Those of you outside my team,” I said, “raise your hand if you’re afraid. Be honest.”

After a brief moment of silence, the students all exchanged looks with each other and began whispering again.

“Wh-Which do you think is the right answer?”

“Is this a trick question? Like, we say we’re afraid and he shows something scarier than this?”

“Or what if he’s not tricking us, and he’ll actually let us stay behind?”

Just then, Naya raised her hand.

“I-I’m sorry,” she said.

The hands of the other students immediately shot into the air, following her lead.

I nodded in approval at them. “Well done. You all pass.”

The students looked gobsmacked at my reply.

“Huh?”

“Wha?”

“Excuse me?”

“We’ll be going somewhere no one has ever gone before,” I said. “I’d be more concerned if none of you were even a little worried about this. Only those who feel fear have the right to depart for a new world.”

The students all had looks of despair on their faces.

“That’s a good expression,” I said in praise. “The more desperate you are to live, the more your fear can work to immobilize you. The moment you embrace your fear and prepare yourself for death is when you reach the right headspace.”

Even more emotion was drained from their eyes, leaving only resignation in its place. Now they would do whatever was required of them. Thanks to Eldmed’s teachings, they had all turned into wonderful students. This mindset must have been what had allowed them to overcome the fight with Equis. And I had no doubt that this time, they would surely meet my expectations again.

“Misha will create the Demon King Express now. After she’s done, we will begin operation training. Just like the sky fortresses, the train will require all of you to combine your power to control. Steering will be difficult. But you’ll get it down within a week, won’t you?”

“Yes, Lord Anos,” they all replied fiercely.

I nodded. “Get to work.”

§ 7. Coal-Throwing Training

Several hours later, the completed Demon King Express Beltexfenblem stood in the depths of Delsgade. The body was based on a long-ago steam train that used to run in Azesion, while a windmill was mounted to the front of the train. Traditional train wheels were replaced with water wheels.

Much like the Cogs of Fate that turned when receiving despair, these blades also turned when receiving a similar power. In other words, they were sensors capable of detecting invisible cogs. In addition to these blades, the train body had all kinds of spells installed to allow it to run across any kind of road. It was a vehicle of monstrous capability, rivaled by only the Sky Fortress Zeridheavens that once flew through the sky of destruction itself.

“Bwa ha ha! Your coal throwing is atrocious! You think the Demon King Express can maintain any speed with a stoker or fireman of this level? If you don’t want to disintegrate into dust midair, you should be throwing in six tons of coal per minute!” Eldmed said, standing in the engine room of the Demon King Express. The stoker and fireman both had the duty of shoveling coal into the steam engine boiler, and currently, two black-uniform students were training for those roles.

“Um, if one shovel holds two hundred kilos...” one student said.

“We have to move thirty shovels in one minute? Is that even possible?” another asked.

“Why have a primitive system anyway? Shouldn’t it have been like the sky fortress and move magically?” they muttered, while still picking up their shovels and furiously moving coal from the coalroom to the boiler. Of course, it was no normal boiler, and they weren’t moving your average coal.

“The Demon King Express moves not only with magic, but with divine authority,” Eldmed clarified. “In short, it’s a mobile divine domain. The Goddess of Creation implemented this primitive system so that you can operate it. Try to connect with the magic link of this train like you would Zeridheavens and your sources would be wiped out instantly.” He let out a gleeful cackle.

“The accuracy of your throws is poor. Aim for the bottom right with your next shovel. Do not let the coal of order build up on one side,” Shin said. He had been standing behind the two students, watching with a sharp glint in his Eyes. If the coal wasn’t inserted evenly, the engine wouldn’t run as efficiently. Any imbalance would prevent the Demon King Express from operating at its full potential.

“But the coal is heavy, the boiler is hot, and it’s hard to aim well...”

“Just holding the shovel takes a ridiculous amount of magic power!”

The stoker and fireman had been training ever since the Demon King Express had been completed and were both breathing heavily. It was impossible for them to move any more efficiently.

“Take a break for now. Let’s see. Hero Kanon, demonstrate how it’s done,” Eldmed said.

The two black-uniform students placed their shovels down and sank to the floor of the engine room in exhaustion. Another student ran over and began casting healing magic. The remaining students were all in another carriage, training on the operation of the Demon King Express.

“All right,” Lay said, entering the engine room.

“Have you done this before, Lay?” Misa asked, peering through the open door of the engine room. She was on break at the moment.

“It’s a vehicle from Azesion, so I can probably figure it out. A regular steam train can be operated alone.”

“Huh, really? Next time we go to Azesion I’d love it if I could ride in a train you drove.”

Lay smiled at her. “Of cour—”

A shovel was suddenly stabbed between Lay’s legs, barely missing his toes.

“Demonstrate,” Shin said, glaring at Lay with a look that could kill. He only stepped back once Lay picked up the shovel.

“H-Huh? I thought you were getting on a little better...” Misa murmured quietly.

Lay smiled at her awkwardly.

“It’s okay,” he said, holding the shovel with familiarity. “Hiyah!”

He started shoveling the coal into the boiler rapidly, moving thirty shovels’ worth of coal in an instant—and in an even spread. The boiler fire blazed with the influx of coal, and the Demon King Express released a tremendous amount of smoke.

“Something like that,” Lay said, turning back to the two black-uniform students. “To put it simply, a shovel is like a sword. So all you need to do to be faster with it is just swing it like it is one.”

“Use it like a sword...?” one student repeated.

“Um, that explanation isn’t helpful at all,” the other added.

“Indeed, that was a poor demonstration,” Shin said, standing behind Lay. “From what I saw, you moved six tons a second. I could manage ten times that much.”

“I don’t think it’ll hold more than six tons,” Lay said, glancing at the boiler doubtfully. At a glance it seemed the boiler’s capacity was right around thirty shovels of coal.

“I expected more out of an Azesion vehicle. Are you saying the limit is truly six tons?” Shin grabbed the shovel with both hands and like he would with a sword, pointed it at the boiler. He shot Lay a sharp sidelong glance.

“Shovel of Throwing, first hidden art.” His Magic Eyes glinted. “Flame Compression.”

He wrapped the shovel in magic, turning it into the Shovel of Throwing. He then loaded coal onto the shovel and moved faster than the naked eye could follow—he moved so fast, in fact, that the force of it compressed the coal to a tenth of its original size.

In the blink of an eye, the shovel moved with multiple flashes, carrying a tremendous amount of coal with each flash. In seconds, Shin had packed the boiler with exactly sixty tons of compressed coal.

The boiler suddenly roared as fierce flames rose within it, sending black smoke rising into the air. The temperature inside the engine room skyrocketed until the average demon could not enter without melting instantly.

“Earlier, you said a shovel was like a sword,” Shin said, thrusting the shovel at Lay with a cool face—despite the boiling heat. “But you were wrong. A shovel is a sword. If you cannot understand something so simple, I will not allow my daughter to ride a steam train driven by you.”

The bell rang in the background, marking the end of class.

“Class resumes tomorrow,” Shin said, departing from the engine room.

“A shovel is a sword, huh,” Lay murmured.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t worry about what my father says,” Misa said in a fluster. “He’s getting too worked up over a simple steam train. Besides, I’d be fine even if it derailed.”

Lay smiled at her. “I can’t just ignore him. He’s your father.”

Misa blinked at him, then giggled.

“Then I’ll fight with you!” she said, surprising Lay. “Ah, by which I mean, I’ll talk to him and try to soften him up!”

“Do you think he’ll listen?”

“Heh heh! I’ve got a few tricks of my own up my sleeve! Just you watch,” Misa said, glancing at Shin’s retreating back. “Wait here for me.”

She hurried after Shin.

“Wait up, father! Let’s go home together,” she called out.

Shin paused, turning to look at her quietly.

“I have told you already, Misa: At school, I’m your teacher,” he said.

“But class is already over!” Misa protested, clinging to his arm. He narrowed his eyes.

“That may be true...”

“And it was so cool! I didn’t know you could operate a steam train.”

“I handled one briefly in the past, at the request of my liege. Since it didn’t require extensive effort on my part, it wasn’t worth mentioning.”

“That’s still amazing!” Misa said sweetly. “Why don’t we all go on a trip together sometime?”

Shin’s Magic Eyes glinted as he stared into her abyss.

“Misa. I am not the right hand of the Demon King for nothing. I can tell—”

“I’d love to ride a steam train driven by you, father.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Father and daughter left the academy arm in arm. If Shin drove the steam train for Misa first, Lay would inevitably become second. That was probably enough to soften Shin’s attitude towards Lay.

“Hmm. They were awkward with each other at first, but they’re much more like parent and child now,” I said.

“Mr. Shin’s turning into more and more of a doting parent, you mean,” Sasha said with a fed-up look.

“You don’t get it, Sasha. All parents are weak to the pleas of their children. We want to do everything for them,” Eleonore said, poking Sasha in the shoulder.

Zeshia came running over at the sound of Eleonore’s voice. “Zeshia loves mama’s cooking...!”

“Oh! Then I’ll make a delicious vegetable croquette and vegetable soup for my precious Zeshia tonight. It’ll be a feast!”

“Liar! Zeshia didn’t mean grass!” Zeshia lightly battered her fists against Eleonore’s legs.

“Lay,” Misha said, calling out to Lay as he stepped out of the engine room. “I found it.”

“The Sword of Three Races?” he asked.

Misha nodded. “Northeast of Azesion, inside a frozen mountain range.”

She blinked once and drew a Limnet magic circle reflecting her vision. The spell depicted icy mountains, with a glint of light suggesting the Sword of Three Races buried in its depths.

“I’ll go get it now.”

“There’s something odd,” Misha added. She drew a Gatom circle pointed at the middle of the ice mountain, right beside Evansmana, but the spell didn’t activate.

“You can see it with your Eyes, yet you can’t use Gatom?” Lay asked.

“I don’t know why.”

Normally, anything that could be seen with Divine Eyes should have been accessible through teleportation. Circumstances were different when the magic field was turbulent, but that didn’t seem to be the case here.

“Is someone obstructing you?”

“Possibly. But I don’t see anyone,” Misha replied.

Lay frowned in thought.

“No ordinary person could slip past your Eyes,” I said, approaching the two of them from behind. “But it’s not like they’re trying to take the sword. They may just be a local of the area.”

“In that case, the sword’s presence must be a nuisance to them,” Lay said.

The holy sword was stuck in their territory, unable to be drawn by anyone other than Lay. They were probably troubled by how to deal with it.

“If there’s anyone there, I’ll apologize to them.”

Lay drew a Gatom circle aimed outside of the ice mountains.

“Be careful. Just in case,” I said, linking to Lay with Gyze.

“I will,” he replied with a smile.

§ 8. The Discarded Child

I leisurely walked down the streets of Midhaze, accompanied by Misha and Sasha. Arcana had taken a liking to playing water wheel with Zeshia and Ennessone and had stayed back in the depths of Delsgade to play with them.

“Descend and take a left at the end.”

“Got it.”

Misha was giving Lay directions through Leaks. The inside of the ice mountain where Evansmana had been buried was like a labyrinth. While it would have been faster to simply break through the mountain, they decided not to employ such a rough method on the possibility it was inhabited. With Misha’s Eyes, there was very little chance they would get lost.

“Anyone around?” I asked.

“No one so far. No one replied when I called out, and I don’t see any signs of life here.”

Lay continued through the ice mountain as he responded through Leaks.

“Why would anyone be living in such an empty place?” Sasha wondered out loud.

“Who knows,” I replied. “I wouldn’t be surprised if some hermit decided they liked it there though.”

Many demons were reclusive—especially the powerful ones.

“Take a right at the next fork,” Misha said. Lay followed her instructions. “Just a little more and you’ll be there.”

“It’s odd. I’m this close, yet I can’t feel the magic power of the Sword of Three Races at all.”

Was it for the same reason that Gatom couldn’t be used there? The Hero Academy had once placed Evansmana in a shrine, yet its magic power had still leaked into the vicinity. Even if the sword was slightly damaged, it shouldn’t be completely undetectable. And not even Misha knew why. I had thought things would become clear once Lay got close, but even close by to the sword he still couldn’t sense it. Was something else lurking there?

The new world had only just been reborn. It was possible the Gatom and Evansmana were both mere oversights, but it wouldn’t hurt to be wary.

“Be very careful,” I said.

“I will.”

Lay made his way through the ice labyrinth with the utmost caution. Just then, the sound of running footsteps approached. It wasn’t coming from Lay’s end—it was from right beside me.

“Lord Anos! A moment if you would please!” the man called out to me. His face was unfamiliar to me, but he was probably a local. His magic power, on the other hand, felt somewhat familiar.

“What’s the matter?” I replied.

“I am Doram of the Nolos family. I apologize sincerely for interrupting your day. I have come with a request for your two subordinates from the Necron family.”

Misha and Sasha exchanged a curious look.

“What?” Misha asked shortly.

“It’s about your mother. I would like to consult you about her upcoming birthday party.”

“Oh!” Sasha made a sound of understanding. Judging from her reaction, she knew who Doram was. “Bit hasty, aren’t you? Is this really something worth stopping Anos over? You should’ve waited to catch us alone.”

Doram fell to his knees and lowered his head. “Forgive me. With the future of the Nolos family at stake, I had no other choice but to reach out this way. I will accept any punishment you give. Please, please allow me a moment of your time.”

Sasha looked at me, clearly troubled.

“Go on. I’ll look after Lay,” I said, connecting to Misha with a Gyze link. “I’m borrowing your Eyes for a bit.”

“Okay,” Misha said.

Misha and Sasha then went over to Doram.

“Today’s an exception, but next time, contact us three days in advance, got it?” Sasha said.

Doram looked relieved, then bowed his head once more. “Thank you very much!”

“So what do you want us to do?”

“I will lead the way. Please follow me,” Doram said, standing up to leave.

“Go upwards there, Lay. There should be a hole large enough to fit through,” I said, giving instructions based on Misha’s vision. The Goddess of Creation’s sight extended far beyond a reasonable range, so it wasn’t possible to link Lay directly to Misha’s Divine Eyes. Even I struggled to manage it. If Lay was connected to such a wide-ranged sight, he would be at risk of missing details right next to him.

“Continue straight along the path.”

As soon as I said that, a spark of fire flickered behind my eyes. I could hear the sound of burning firewood. The Equis Oven had turned on by itself.

“Is something wrong?” Lay asked.

“Nothing, just something on this end. Don’t worry about it.”

I directed my Eyes to my house. There was no one in the workshop. Dad and Aeges appeared to be working outside today. The door opened with an accompanying ring of the attached bell.

“Welcome!” mom said with a bright smile.

A man who looked more like a weary ghost than a human then stepped into Wind of the Sun, my parents’ appraisal shop and blacksmith. He only had one arm—a left arm that was bulging with muscles—and wore a uniform that was unfamiliar to me.

It was gray in color, with a skull on one shoulder and an insignia of foam and ripples on the other. The style reminded me of a military or school insignia, but I had never seen it before. Where was he from?

“What are you after today? If there’s anything you’d like to inspect, just let me know and I’ll bring it over to you,” mom said warmly, making sure to be considerate of the man’s remaining arm.

The man glanced around at the swords and spears on display in the shop.

“What utter trash,” he muttered under his breath.

“Is something the matter?” mom asked.

The man walked up to mom and placed something down on the counter. It was a sharp red blade with no handle.

“Do you recognize this?”

“Oh! An appraisal? Please give me a moment.”

Mom put on white gloves and picked up the blade. “What an odd blade... It’s more like a claw or talon than a knife.”

“It’s a claw,” the one-armed man said in a low voice.

Mom carefully examined the red claw with a magnifying glass. But she didn’t seem to have any idea what it was.

“You don’t remember?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t think our shop is equipped for this. I was hoping I could at least provide you with a clue, but...” She placed the red claw on the table. “Shall I introduce you to a larger appraisal store?”

“No need,” the man said bluntly. “You’re the only one who knows what this is.”

An ominous silence passed between them. Mom looked at the man’s face curiously.

“Still don’t remember?” the man asked. “Still forget the child you discarded?”

Mom’s eyes rounded in surprise. The one-armed man picked up the red claw, eyes bright. Even a commoner could sense the bloodlust in his expression. Mom backed away slowly.

“This,” the man said, pointing the claw at mom, “is how it’s used.”

With terrifying speed, the man thrust the red claw straight at mom’s abdomen. A fierce flame then immediately shot out of the kitchen and surrounded the one-armed man.

“Little Equis!” mom yelled.

“Curse you! Why?! Why am I— This is unforgivable!”

The Equis Oven, designed to burn despair, had moved of its own volition to scorch the one who made such ominous footsteps into the shop. In this new world, its order was to protect mom. However...

The man stomped his foot on the floor, erasing the Equis Oven’s flames with the ensuing sound wave.

“A chief god serves you. It seems I have the right person then, Abyssal Princess of Disaster.”

“Hmm. You say such odd things. Where are you from?”

The one-armed man looked back at me—I had teleported behind him when he had been busy erasing the flames.

“Do not interrupt me, scum,” he said, releasing a backhand chop.

I grabbed the back of his head before he could reach me.

“Gwah?!”

I then tossed him. The man toppled headfirst, slamming into the floor with a dull crash.

“You have that much power, yet you don’t know of me. How odd,” I said.

“You impudent— Gaaah!”

I stepped on his head to prevent him from getting up and leaned down.

“Answer the question. Spit it out now and you’ll be forgiven. I’ll just burn you to death, that’s all.”

§ 9. Grudge

“Lay. Take a left there,” I said through Leaks, staring at the ice mountain with Misha’s Eyes while holding the man down with my foot. From the ground, the man glared at me with sharp anger. “This doesn’t concern you,” I said to him. “Don’t worry about it.”

He continued staring at me, a searching look in his Eyes. He didn’t seem bothered by the fact that his face was pressed into the floor.

“Are you the ruler?” he asked.

“I ask the questions. Why did you target my mother when you don’t even know who I am?”

For some reason, the man’s expression changed. “What did you just say?”

“Did you not hear me? Why did you target my mother?” I repeated.

His face then turned into a hideous mix of anger, delight, contempt, and madness. A low and eerie laugh slipped past his lips.

“I see! A son! So you finally gave birth, huh?! After all your resistance, you finally gave in to the disaster— Gwabahah!”

I had stomped down on his head while he was speaking, burying his face back in the floor. “Know your place. Such a disgusting laugh will scare mom.”

His single arm reached out and grabbed the leg I had stomped onto his head, wrapping around my ankle. He had calmed down, and his eyes were fixed intently on me.

“Don’t say that, brother.”

Jet-black particles started to flow out from his body, building to a stupendous torrent of magic that shook the entire barrier-covered house.

“You trying to hog her to yourself?” he asked, squeezing my ankle hard enough for the bone to creak.

“I’m only eight months old, so I think I have that right.”

I suppressed his magic power with the Magic Eyes of Destruction, but the black particles continued flowing out without pause, filling the room with magic.

“But I’ve never heard of mom having other children. Is this some new kind of scam?” I asked, while wrapping black particles around my body to further suppress his power.

He chuckled under his breath. “No matter what you say, you cannot hide. You may have altered it, but I can still tell. And you should have already figured out that we have the same kind of magic.”

A shrill noise then pierced my ears. It was faint, but it was a clear indication that my source was resonating with his. He wasn’t wrong about us having similar magic.

“They say there are at least two other people in the world with the same face as you,” I said. “Just having a similar magic power isn’t enough to prove we’re brothers. And above all—”

He dug his hand further into my ankle—he was as strong as Anahem, the God of Demise. The moment I focused my magic power into my leg, he swiftly pulled back his hand, grabbed the red claw on the floor, and threw it at mom.

I cast Beno Ievun, but the moment the red claw touched the black barrier, it was absorbed and transformed into power. The red claw, now wrapped in a black aurora, drew closer to mom. I kicked his head away and grabbed the claw at the same time.

The claw raged in my hand, casting off fierce sparks. Its power was so immense that if the house hadn’t been reinforced by the Equis Oven’s order, the area would have blown away entirely.

“Even if we were born from the same womb, no one so disrespectful could ever be a brother of mine,” I said.

Finally freed from my grip, he got up and charged at me.

“Zagadez.”

“Vebzud.”

Although the spells we used were different, both of them caused our hands to be dyed jet-black. The man thrust his hand straight forwards in a hand chop, which I caught with my palm. The two intense spells collided, casting off even more sparks of magic power and causing the house to creak and strain at the show of force.

“Hmm. That power’s impressive. Where have you been hiding all this time?” I asked.

“The one hiding was you, brother. How did you do it?” the man asked back.

“What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb with me.”

Unable to withstand the struggle between us, the floor beneath us gave out. Just as we sank into the ground, black particles gathered around his single arm.

It was unnatural. Though there should have been nothing past the stump of his right shoulder, a sense of sinister power emanated there, as though the magic of that missing arm was giving his remaining arm more strength. His power surged abnormally, giving him the strength to push me back. My feet slipped against the floor as I was backed against the wall.

“Attempting to suppress my single arm with one hand? Such bad judgment, brother,” the man said.

“You’re not wrong. One thing I’ve been struggling with lately is a lack of attention to minor details.” A crack ran along the wall behind me. “Especially things too insignificant to pay attention to.”

My taunt was effective; more black particles swirled around the man’s arm as he charged forwards, infuriated, crashing through the wall with me in tow.

“Anos?!” mom shrieked.

The one-armed man pushed me aside and moved to the kitchen.

“Hmph. You’re incapable of seeing into the abyss, yet you cannot stop talking. Just in case you’re serious, I’ll have you know that I’m not missing an arm. I have one arm that fulfills the role of two. And if you don’t use your other hand soon, you will come to regret it.”

“Don’t worry, I can match you with just one hand,” I said, taking a step back. “After all, it’s not just an arm you’re missing—your brain’s missing too.”

I released the strength in my palm and deflected his hand chop to the side. He stumbled over his feet, and I grabbed the back of his head with a Vebzud-covered hand.

“If I use any more of my strength, I’ll be disturbing the neighbors.”

Using his own momentum against him, I threw him with all my might—right into the fire of the Equis Oven.

“Gaaah!”

He fell head-first into the Equis Oven and promptly burned in the flames. The man swiftly cast his anti-magic wards and grabbed the edge of the oven with his left arm.

“Don’t know when to give up, do you?” I said, and kicked him in the backside to shove him the rest of the way into the oven.

“Guh!”

“Jio Graze.”

I fired multiple black suns into the Equis Oven in rapid succession. Each had enough force to wipe out an entire nation, but the stone oven was capable of containing every bit of their raging black flames.

“Answer me,” I said to the burning fire. “Who are you, and why are you after mom?”

“Stop feigning ignorance, brother...”

“Hmm.”

I tied his body using the chains of Zola e Dypt.

“Mgrrr?!”

“Just stay there until you feel like speaking.”

I slammed the door to the Equis Oven shut. Several thumps could be heard from within, but the oven wouldn’t break so easily. After all, it was made from Equis.

With every passing moment, the stone oven burned hotter and hotter, even though it had received no fuel; it had identified the man as a bringer of despair. Soon it would become hotter than even he could bear.

I grabbed a chair to sit down when suddenly, I felt someone’s gaze on me. I looked up through the ceiling and into the sky, but there was no one there.

I narrowed my vision, sending my magic into my Eyes to look carefully far into the distance. There was no one at the end of the sky either. But beyond, in the Dark Firmament, I spotted a girl with long braided hair holding a parasol, with a skull symbol on her shoulder and an insignia of foam and ripples on her chest, same as the man—she was wearing a female version of the uniform the one-armed man had worn.

The girl’s eyes were closed, but still seemed capable of seeing. She then must have sensed my Eyes; she pointed her parasol right at me and drew a magic circle. I dyed my right hand a glowing white using Ygg Neas.

“Are you his comrade?” I asked through Leaks.

“Technically.”

Far in the sky above, a jet-black blast of light was fired from the parasol. I layered Beno Ievun around the outside of the house, with a few extra layers around mom just in case. But in the next moment, Beno Ievun disappeared, and the black blast of light appeared right before her. The spell and the blast of light had switched places.

“Huh?” mom muttered, and our house exploded.

The walls and ceiling were instantaneously blown away, with everything else that was our house crumbling to nothing around us.

“And I just rebuilt it too,” I said with a sigh, escaping the explosion with mom in my arms. I couldn’t leave her side until I knew exactly how the spells had switched.

A clatter could be heard within the ruins of our house. The only item that had retained its shape after the blast—the Equis Oven—had opened its door. The blast must have loosened it.

“The real battle begins now,” the man said, crawling out of the oven. He drew a magic circle with his one hand and glared at me. He wouldn’t be difficult to deal with—it was the girl in the Dark Firmament who seemed like trouble.

“Retreat,” the parasol girl said to the one-armed man through Leaks. I didn’t even need to intercept the spell to hear it—they didn’t bother hiding their conversation.

“Our goal isn’t accomplished yet.”

“We’ve gained something better. Retreat now,” the girl ordered. “This is their domain. They will soon have reinforcements. Your arm is useless.”

“Give me five seconds,” the man replied. “I’ll finish this.”

As soon as he said that, the one-armed man leaped at me, whipping his Zagadez-covered hand in rapid swings. Still holding mom, I evaded each swing of his hand, then kicked his face in retaliation.

“Guh!”

“Did you think it’d be easier to deal with me when my arms are full?” I said.

“Big words for a blow that didn’t even hurt.” The one-armed man reached for his right shoulder. A sinister magic circle appeared where his arm was missing. “Don’t get so full of yourself. I’m just going easy on you.”

The moment black particles poured out of the circle, the man vanished, and where he had been a small doll missing an arm fell onto the ground.

“Hmm. So you can switch places with similar objects,” I said, looking up at the sky. The one-armed man was floating beside the girl with the parasol in the Dark Firmament. I gently set mom down beside me. “Who are you people?”

“We have nothing to say to you at this juncture. I didn’t think you’d find me so soon,” the girl replied. “The next time we meet, we might be allies. Or we might be enemies.”

“Do you think that logic will work on me, invader?”

“It’s the truth. I have no resentment towards you, nor your mother—”

The girl gasped. She touched her right eyelid that had been closed all this time, sensing something was different.

“Finally noticed?” I asked, revealing the glass orb in my hand—an artificial eye. I had grabbed it with Ygg Neas in the skirmish with the one-armed man. “I was wondering why you weren’t opening your eyes, but I think I get it now. Be it that man’s arm or this fake eye, your powers have something to do with missing body parts, don’t they?”

“What is your name?” the girl asked, trembling quietly.

“Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?”

“Costoria Atzenon,” she snapped curtly.

I smirked. “Anos Voldigoad.”

“Anos,” she repeated in a shaky voice. “I will never forgive you. Friend or foe, that will not change. Keep that eye. Remember my name; it will be I, Costoria Atzenon, who will steal what’s most important to you.”

“Oh? It’s really so precious to you?” I asked, then clenched my fist, crushing the artificial eye to dust in my hand. Costoria’s jaw fell in shock. “Don’t be so surprised; I’m only doing what you just tried to do to us. Instead of resenting me for your mistake, repent for your actions.”

Costoria’s left eye opened. An enraged artificial eye glared at me.

“Remember this. I will definitely destroy you someday!”

“Why wait for someday? Do it now.”

The girl clenched her teeth in fury. But instead of responding to my taunts, she grabbed the one-armed man and rose from the Dark Firmament, moving so far that eventually, I couldn’t track them any farther without Misha’s Eyes.

Just then, two warp circles appeared beside me, followed by Shin and Aeges. They had come running at the commotion.

“Your orders,” Shin said.

“Wait for a while. I cast Enoy on the assailants, so we’ll be able to trace them to wherever they flee.”

I had placed the tracking spell on the one-armed man when I kicked him. He had yet to notice the magic, probably because he was too focused on flying through the Dark Firmament to sense it. My magic would be able to track him to the ends of the world.

“Oh?” I said.

“What’s wrong?” Aeges asked, frowning.

“The Enoy was cut off.”

“They must have noticed.”

“Hmm. But if they had interfered with the spell, I should have been able to feel it.”

The Enoy I cast hadn’t been destroyed or intercepted, it had just cut off completely—as though, somehow, they had moved out of tracking range.

§ 10. Those Who Serve the Dead

The Nolos residence.

Doram led Misha and Sasha over a long, gaudy rug laid at the entrance of the Nolos residence. As one would expect from a family acquainted with the Necrons, the Nolos were distinguished. Their mansion was large and luxurious, and the corridor the three of them walked through was filled with beautiful art and furniture.

“It’s this way,” Doram said, pausing to point at a large and sturdy door. It looked like it had been made in the Dilhade style, but there was a magic circle on it forming a powerful barrier.

“That’s quite the strong vault you have there,” Sasha commented. She stared at the door with her Magic Eyes, but she couldn’t detect any magic power within; the barrier on the door was too powerful.

“Yes, that’s because the gifts are all inside here.”

“Hmm.”

She exchanged a look with Misha. This amount of security for a birthday gift seemed excessive—and suspicious. Both of them were probably wondering who in the Nolos family was even capable of constructing such a thing; the barrier was of a quality and strength only seen two thousand years ago.

“If you’ve prepared the gifts already, what do you need to consult us for?” Sasha asked.

“I was hoping that among them, you could pick something your mother would enjoy,” Doram said, reaching for the door. He sent magic through his hand and the door opened without a sound. “Please, come in.”

They followed him into the large room. Inside, from floor to ceiling, was packed with an assortment of items: gemstones, ornaments, clothes, trinkets, paintings, antiques, and more. The quantity of gifts stuffed in the room—and their quality—was honestly quite impressive. Misha gazed around the room with her Divine Eyes in awe.

“We can help you choose, but can you first explain the situation?” Sasha said with a serious look. “What you said about the fate of the Nolos family resting on this sounded really ominous. Why did you need to prepare so many presents?”

“I understand. The truth is—”

Doram paused with a look of confusion. He seemed lost in his thoughts, failing to finish his sentence.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha asked.

“Nothing, it’s just...” Doram struggled for words. “I don’t know.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t remember... Why am I doing this? Just now, I...”

Misha and Sasha exchanged another look with each other.

Just then, another voice in the room spoke.

“My apologies. I implanted him with false memories. Rest assured, they will not harm him.”

From out of the shadows, a man in a peaked cap stepped out in front of them. He wore a military style uniform in peacock green, with a fire symbol on his shoulder and cap, and an insignia of foam and ripples on his chest. The man walked straight up to Misha and Sasha.

“Who are you?!” Doram yelled as the man in the cap reached out for him.

“Sasha.”

“Got it!”

A magic circle appeared over Doram, but Sasha destroyed it with the Magic Eyes of Destruction before it could activate.

“Step back,” Misha ordered Doram. Both she and Sasha stepped in front of him.

“I mean no harm,” the mysterious man in the cap said. “My business with him is done, so I am returning his memories.”

“We can’t trust you,” Sasha snapped.

The man in the cap lowered his hands. “My apologies. You’re right. Please know that in a few days his memories will naturally return.”

“You wanted to see us?” Misha asked flatly.

“Affirmative. My name is Gui Ambarret. I cannot disclose my affiliation. I cannot answer any of your questions. I came here with a request for Misha and Sasha Necron.”

“You have a request for us, but you can’t answer our questions?” Sasha retorted. “Sounds kind of selfish if you ask me.”

Sasha glared at Gui with the Magic Eyes of Destruction evident in her pupils. Although she wasn’t using them to attack, the average person would have collapsed just by meeting her Eyes in this state. But the man simply stared straight back at her destructive gaze.

“I am aware this is ill-mannered of me,” he said.

“What’s the request?” Misha asked.

“It’s as the man said. I’d like you to choose a present for your mother from what is in this room,” Gui said earnestly.

But Sasha still looked skeptical. “I don’t get it. Why would you antagonize the Necron family just to pick a present for our mother? You’re either plotting something or you’re completely out of your mind.”

“Negative on both counts. The present you’re picking is for your former mother.”

Misha’s Divine Eyes widened slightly. “You mean the Goddess of Creation Elenesia?”

“Affirmative. As soon as you choose a present, I will leave. I promise I truly mean you no harm.”

Misha thought for a moment. “My mother perished.”

“Affirmative.”

“So why a present?”

“I cannot answer that question.”

Misha looked at Sasha. They couldn’t figure out Gui’s objective at all.

“We’ll pick a gift if you tell us why we have to,” Misha said.

“And if you can’t tell us,” Sasha said, “then we’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Gui stood there with a surly face, unmoving. He seemed to be thinking, but his expression didn’t change as he held his silence.

Eventually, he decided to speak. “I am a servant of Elenesia. I need to bring a gift with me when I return to my master.”

“Does that mean you’re going to die?” Sasha asked.

“I cannot answer that question.”

It was clear that Gui had no intention of answering any of their questions. If he were really a servant of the last Goddess of Creation, then he would have been alive before Militia was even born. And indeed, his magic was of a different wavelength than that of humans, demons, or draconids. Neither was it like a spirit or a god’s. Staring into his abyss was like seeing a mix of everything.

“Okay,” Misha said. She turned to the objects around her and began examining them.

Sasha followed her little sister while keeping a wary eye on Gui. “Are you sure?” she whispered to Misha. “We don’t know anything about him.”

“I don’t think he’s lying about the present,” Misha said.

“Really? What about everything else?”

“That I don’t know.”

Misha looked over at Gui, who hadn’t moved from where he was standing—not even to look at them.

“He’s hiding his heart behind a strong will,” Misha noted. “I saw a glimpse of it when he mentioned the present, but nothing more.”

“So he really is Elenesia’s servant? Hmm. If Elenesia’s world was recreated before it was completely destroyed, there may be people with memories remaining... I guess?”

Sasha still looked disbelieving.

“It’s my first time seeing someone like him too,” Misha said. She had been watching the world since its creation, making this a truly rare occurrence.

“The present he wants is more like an offering to the dead, right? Why did he have to go about this in such a roundabout way?” Sasha muttered.

Misha tilted her head. “Maybe the last world had its own rules?”

“But we have no way of confirming such a thing. Well, if it’s really just picking a gift, I don’t mind doing it. And once we do, we’ll probably get a better idea of what his goal is.”

“Let’s go with this,” Misha said, picking up a piece of parchment.

“Are you going to write something?”

She nodded. “I want to say thank you.”

Sasha blinked in surprise, then smiled gently. It was typical of Misha to pick something so thoughtful, even at a time like this.

“I should have expected as much,” she said.

“Do you want to write something too?”

“And give it to that shady guy over there? I don’t know...”

“No?”

“Well, I guess it’s fine. Since it seems like the present part is true.” Sasha picked up the magic quill that was beside the parchment. “Let’s write it together.”

“Yeah.”

They both wrote their words on the parchment before placing it in an envelope and sealing it with Sehm. Sehm was a sealing magic that allowed only the addressee to open its contents. In ancient times, it was custom for the people of Dilhade to seal letters to the dead with Sehm, as they believed that doing so allowed them to reach the deceased.

“Done,” Misha said, holding the letter out to Gui, while Sasha, still glaring warily at the man, held out the quill she had just used.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Gui accepted the letter and quill and immediately used Gatom. A magic circle appeared at his feet before he vanished.

Sasha stared at the empty spot he left behind for a while. “So he really just wanted us to choose a present?”

“So it seems,” Misha replied.

§ 11. The Golden Hilt

Unnamed ice mountains, northeast Azesion.

“Take a left there.”

Lay made a left turn according to the Leaks I sent. After continuing for a while, a large mass of ice came into view, which Lay approached and looked within to see the Sword of Three Races, buried inside.

He pulled the Sword of Intent out of a storage circle. “Hiyah!”

The block of ice was sliced into pieces and fell apart, revealing a large cavern. Lay scanned his surroundings with caution. There were no traps or any other sign of life. But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t use Gatom in the area.

Lay walked up to where Evansmana was stuck in the ground, still on high alert. The sword was still releasing its usual divine radiance and showed no signs of damage. Lay then reached out and grabbed the hilt.

Just then, a white electric current raged along the holy sword. Lay immediately released Evansmana. A piece of the hilt chipped off, and fell to the ground.

“What’s happened to you, Evansmana? Can you tell me?” he mumbled.

At that moment, a magic circle appeared on the ground around where the blade was stuck. Another piece of the hilt chipped off.

Something was definitely going on with the holy sword—something that prevented it from responding to Lay’s summons. Lay focused on the sword’s will and reached for its hilt once again.

“Don’t touch it,” said a harsh voice, scolding.

Lay turned to see a man appear from a path at the back of the cavern. He wore a jacket and waistcoat with gold embroidery, and had a jabot around his neck. The addition of a large bow strapped to his back suggested he was both a hunter and of nobility simultaneously. But his clothes were mostly likely a uniform; on his shoulder was a symbol of a sword, and on his chest was an insignia of foam and ripples. The symbol on his shoulder resembled the Sword of Three Races.

“Filthy thief. Can’t you see it’s trying to return to its true form?” the man said haughtily. He spoke as if he were familiar with Evansmana.

“Who are you?” Lay asked.

“Such insolence. A petty thief like you dares to question one of the Five Holy Nobles? I have no name to give to you. Just do as you’re told,” the man snapped. “Now move it. That holy sword has already been retrieved.”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying. Could you explain?”

“Move. Or I’ll run you through on my sword until you’re nothing but rust.” The man of the so-called Five Holy Nobles grabbed the sword at his waist and glared at Lay with menace in his eyes. “I won’t ask a third time.”

But Lay only gave him a bright smile. “I’m not moving.”

A sword flashed between them, followed by the sound of clashing metal. The man of the Five Holy Nobles had drawn his sword, and Lay had blocked it with Siegsesta.

“How brazen for a thief.”

“But I don’t believe I am one. If the Sword of Three Races had just chosen someone else I would have been fine with it.”

The two stared at each other over their locked swords. Being able to survive a blow against Lay meant this man was no average swordsman. But his face was completely unfamiliar to me. I’d never heard of the Five Holy Nobles either.

“Then state the name of the swordsmith who forged Evansmana,” he demanded.

“I only know it was forged by a human. Their name had already been lost to time two thousand years ago,” Lay replied.

The man scoffed. “Then name the god who blessed the sword. Name the spirit that dwells within the sword.”

“Do you know?”

The man’s body filled with magic, and he knocked Lay back with a push of his sword.

“Of course I do! However...” The tip of his sword pointed at Lay. “You’re not worth talking to!”

He thrust out his sword, moving faster than the speed of light. Lay deflected the incoming blade to his face with the Sword of Intent. The next thrust was then aimed at Lay’s throat. The man accelerated, seemingly having no limit to his speed, with the force of his movements boring holes in the ice behind Lay.

The two swordsmen clashed blades, the entire mountain range shaking from the ferocity of their battle. Hundreds and hundreds of blows were exchanged in just mere seconds.

“Foooh!” the man screeched oddly, thrusting forwards with all his might. Blades crossed, and Lay’s Sword of Intent was sent flying upwards, stabbing into the ceiling. But it was a feint. He had positioned himself so that the Sword of Three Races was right beside him. Lay wanted the man to believe he was unarmed and lure him into attacking.

The swordsman of the Five Holy Nobles was about to leap forwards—when he withdrew his sword and stood still.

“Not coming?” Lay asked.

“Don’t look down on me. I, the great Count Baltzarond, refuse to cut down an unarmed man, even if he’s a criminal. Retrieve your weapon.”

“Hm.” Lay leaped up and yanked Siegsesta out of the cavern ceiling. “Are you sure?”

“Hmph,” Baltzarond snorted. “Having a sword in your hand makes no difference. It is clear you don’t have the ability to win against—”

“Didn’t you have no name to give me?”

Baltzarond gaped at Lay in dumbfounded disbelief. But he soon snapped out of it and yelled, “You weasel, prying my name out of me with such sly tricks!”

More magic power surged out of him, covering his arm and sword, the blade creaking in protest at the added strain of so much condensed power laid on it.

“However, when it comes to the sword, I will not lose!” he declared loudly, as though his slipup just now hadn’t happened. Baltzarond pointed his sword at Lay. “My sword—the Baltzarond Hunter Blade—is the fastest blade known to man, capable of cutting through time itself!”

He moved and silence fell, as if time really had stopped. In this world without sound only Baltzarond moved. His sword was simply too fast.

In response, Lay chose to let his strikes connect and slice his flesh and bone. No matter how fast this man moved, he couldn’t wipe out all of Lay’s sources in a single strike, so Lay used that opening to aim at Baltzarond instead. One beat after Baltzarond’s swing, the Sword of Intent swung towards his neck.

“Foooh!”

Just before Baltzarond’s sword pierced Lay’s chest, his sword shattered into pieces, unable to withstand the fast swing of its user. Lay swung the Sword of Intent with enough momentum to behead him, but froze at the last moment. A single drop of blood dripped down his neck.

“Time! Hold on a minute,” Baltzarond said boldly, in spite of the sword at his neck. “Let’s do this again. I wasn’t using the right sword. In addition, I am unused to fighting here.”

“What are you going on about?” Lay asked with a smile. He kept the Sword of Intent at Baltzarond’s neck, ready to behead him at a moment’s notice.

“Guh... Such cowardice!”

“I don’t get what you’re saying, but can you still not tell me what you want with the Sword of Three Races?”

The man ground his teeth. Just then, Lay heard the sound of something shattering. He glanced over to see the hilt of the Sword of Three Races had detached itself from the blade—almost like the holy sword had its own will, and had rejected its hilt. Nothing like that had ever happened to the holy sword before. Lay frowned.

“That is not the original hilt of the Sword of Three Races,” Baltzarond said, drawing a magic circle with a finger. “The real one is here.”

A sparkling gold hilt emerged from the middle of the magic circle, with a guard embedded with blue gemstones and no blade. The Sword of Three Races then unsheathed itself and flew over to the golden hilt. Since it was coming straight at Lay from behind, he leaped to the side to avoid it.

Lay reached out and grabbed Evansmana as it flew past him. Baltzarond was still holding the hilt with no blade.

“Evansmana has completed its service, and the time has come for it to resume its true form. Return it to me,” he said.

Divine light radiated from the golden hilt. Its magic power was indeed identical to Evansmana.

“You don’t seem to be lying about the Sword of Three Races’s hilt,” Lay said, staring at Baltzarond with Siegsesta and the hiltless Evansmana in his hands. He took a step forwards—then froze. My Leaks had reached him.

“Give him the Sword of Three Races.”

“Do you have a plan?” he sent back silently.

“A few people with the same insignia have appeared, all at the same time. They may have come from outside.”

“The outer world?”

“The one you’re facing seems to be one of the more absent-minded members. Perfect for setting free with a tracker attached.”

After hearing that, Lay threw the Sword of Three Races at Baltzarond. The sword stabbed into the ground before his feet.

“Oh? I see you’ve realized that your struggles were futile,” he said smugly.

“Your ability to draw the Sword of Three Races proves you are its owner,” Lay said. “And besides, this world no longer needs it.”

“Then behold!” Baltzarond grabbed the Sword of Three Races, now hiltless, and unsheathed it. He raised the holy sword high above his head. “I, Baltzarond, dauntless and daring hunter, am the true owner of the Sword of Three Races. I am its chosen.”

The holy sword that chose its own owner released a divine light in his hand, proving its power. Perhaps he really was its original wielder.

“You said it yourself. Surely you have no complaints, yes?” Baltzarond asked.

Lay nodded in response.

“Hmph. An admirable mind. I’ll spare your life this time.” As soon as he said that, he thrust the golden hilt towards the sky. Light burst from the sword, melting a hole in the ice overhead. “Farewell. For a thief, you had a decent sword arm. I’ll give you that.”

Baltzarond leaped out of the large hole opened by the light and flew away.

§ 12. Outer World

Shin and I teleported to the skies above the ice mountain, leaving Aeges with mom. I had asked Arcana to come home with Eleonore and Zeshia, so they’d be fine.

“If Baltzarond came from outside this world, does that mean the Sword of Three Races did too?” Lay asked, flying up to me with Fless.

“Most likely,” I said.

The golden hilt had been perfectly tuned to Evansmana. It didn’t seem like he was lying about it being the Sword of Three Races’ true hilt.

“We should be far enough away. Let’s follow him.”

We hid ourselves with Lynel and Najira and ascended into the sky after Baltzarond.

“According to the legends, Evansmana’s purpose is to destroy evil calamities. It’s said that the enshrinement god protecting the holy sword was created by the humans, other gods, and spirits of ancient times to sever the fates of calamities. The Sword of Three Races only released its divine light when you first appeared,” Lay explained.

There was no doubt the Sword of Three Races was a holy sword that could destroy the Demon King of Tyranny. Its power against my source of destruction had indeed been unparalleled.

“But why would it have come from outside this world?” Lay wondered.

“Who knows?” I replied.

We flew through the sky and arrived at the Dark Firmament.

“If Costoria and the one-armed man who attacked my liege’s mother are both from the outer world, that leaves more mysteries,” Shin said.

“Yeah. Their timing is strange,” I agreed. “Why aim for the Sword of Three Races and my mother now? There should have been plenty of opportunities before.”

The Sword of Three Races had been stored at the temple of the Hero Academy for a long time, and it would’ve been much better to go after mom before I was born. But neither Baltzarond nor Costoria had attempted that.

“They came to this world just as we noticed the possibility of an outer world. I doubt that’s a coincidence,” I said.

“Does it have something to do with the world having been reincarnated?” Lay wondered.

“It would make sense if they only discovered Militia’s world after it reincarnated, but—”

Had the world become easier to perceive after it was reborn?

“Halt,” I said, holding out an arm. Shin and Lay both came to a stop. “A ship?”

Far across the Dark Firmament, on the other end of Baltzarond’s gaze, was a large sailboat. It was an airborne military ship, with three masts and multiple gunports along the side, as well as armed soldiers visible on board. The ship was overflowing with magic particles that formed a barrier around the vessel—a powerful one.

The only thing I couldn’t tell was how it was being powered. I couldn’t tell by looking into the abyss, but I knew it wasn’t magic. But the ship was sailing through the Dark Firmament freely.

Baltzarond watched as the ship flew up to him before calling out.

“Good work. No residents of this miniature world are in the vicinity, so cancel that boorish barrier and give me your full attention!” he ordered.

The ship’s magic barrier was removed.

“Now behold! I, Baltzarond, have retrieved the blade of the stolen Evansmana!”

He raised Evansmana high over his head, showing the Sword of Three Races to those on board the ship as he flew above it in a loop.

“Glory to Baltzarond! Glory to the god of noble hunts! Hail Hyphoria!” Baltzarond yelled, encouraging those aboard the ship to cheer after him.

“Hail Hyphoria! Hail Hyphoria!”

The people aboard the ship all seemed to be Baltzarond’s subordinates. Everyone wore the same uniform as his, with bows on their backs and swords at their waists. That aside, this man was far more careless than I’d thought.

“We’re going to cling to the ship. Follow me,” I ordered through Leaks.

The three of us flew towards the ship. The magic barrier had been released, and the attention of all the soldiers was focused on Baltzarond. Going undetected, we flew around the opposite side of the ship from where Baltzarond had approached and up from below, allowing me to grab the bottom of the ship with Ygg Neas. Shin held on to my free hand, while Lay grabbed his.

“Set course for Pablohetra,” Baltzarond directed, landing on a mast.

“Yes, sir! But Sir Baltzarond, you need to get down from the mast first!” a soldier replied.

“Hmph. This is the best spot to watch the drift of the tide. Depart.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

As expected, the ship turned to the end of the Dark Firmament and accelerated. But no matter how fast they flew, the order of this world meant they should loop around the Dark Firmament and come out the opposite end.

There had to be a reason this ship could travel outside of the world. While clinging to the bottom of the ship, I strained my Magic Eyes and observed the abyss. There didn’t appear to be any special spell formula in use, but when I looked at the overall ship, I could see the sails were popped open—as though there was an invisible wind blowing.

Something was happening. Something that couldn’t be seen by Magic Eyes, just like Equis’s cogs. Something related to order, perhaps? Either way, if something existed there, then there had to be a way to observe its abyss.

I transformed my Eyes in various ways, searching for a wavelength that matched the invisible power propelling the ship. But before I could figure it out, a silver light started pouring into the Dark Firmament.

The ship flew straight at the silver light. Little by little, the black sky surrounding us started turning silver. The ship accelerated further, and what looked like foamy bubbles started flowing past us.

“What is this?” Lay gasped at the scenery.

Even Shin couldn’t hide his shock, his gaze warily darting around. Somehow, we were in a sea of silver light. Behind us was a gigantic round bubble that released more silver light. Upon observing it with my Magic Eyes, I could see traces of Militia’s magic power. This silver bubble was the world we were in—meaning we were now outside of it.

“Hmm. I can’t reach Misha with Leaks.”

I was connected to her with Gyze, yet the spell was barely functioning.

“It seems things work differently on the outside,” I deduced.

Lay and Shin’s expressions changed. It had hit them; we had entered an unknown world. We didn’t know what was waiting for us, and our adversaries knew far more than we did.

“What’s the plan?” Lay asked.

“We’re here already. May as well make them bring us to their world. I doubt we can just turn back and return to Militia’s world anyway.”

“Please don’t tell me we’re stuck here,” he replied with a smile.

“We can return by stealing their ship,” Shin said.

That was probably our best option. For now, we quietly waited as the ship approached its destination. Outside of the spherical barrier protecting the ship was an endless ocean. But since my Magic Eyes didn’t work well against the water, I could barely see anything. I could only tell all around us was silver light, shining from every angle.

“If the world looks like a silver bubble from the outside, then all this light may be coming from other worlds.”

“That means there are as many worlds as the number of lights,” Shin said. He looked out at the sea, where it seemed the lights were endless. It suggested an unfathomable number of worlds, impossible to count.

“Bwa ha ha. The outer world is bigger than I thought. We’d better not get lost.”

“That would be no laughing matter,” Lay said with a wry smile.

Several hours passed in this way. Eventually, some of the silver light ahead of us condensed into an illuminated path, creating a literal road of light. The ship continued down the road until a large silver bubble, just like Militia’s world, appeared before us.

The ship charged straight into that bubble. This time, darkness filled our vision, and the silver water disappeared. A black sky, just like the Dark Firmament of our world, then appeared. The ship lowered, descending through the sky until our eyes were blinded by sunlight.

The sky was dyed red—sunset. Below was a vast forest, towering mountain ranges, and a myriad of lakes, rivers, and cities. There was no doubt about it; we had arrived in a different world from our own.

“Hey! What is that?!” an angry voice suddenly yelled from above. It was Baltzarond. “Why did no one notice these thieves dangling from the ship?!”

Shin and Lay looked at me. It would’ve been nice if he’d led us straight to their base, but it seemed he wasn’t that unobservant. We should have been hidden with Lynel and Najira, but something must have weakened the spells. Had Baltzarond activated anti-magic?

“I-I’m sorry!” one soldier replied in a fluster. “You gave us the order to praise you, Sir Baltzarond, so...”

“Grr... That’s right. Ugh! No use dwelling on the past. Shake them off!”

“Yes, sir!”

The magic barrier was released, allowing the ship to accelerate into a sudden turn. They were attempting to throw us off the ship, but forcing Ygg Neas to let go would be no easy feat.

Baltzarond tsked. “Stubborn fiends. We’ll just have to respond accordingly. Don’t turn the ship anymore. Full speed ahead!”

“But Sir Baltzarond!” a soldier protested. “The Enigmatic Woodlands are up ahead!”

“If we enter that airspace, we’ll...!” exclaimed another.

“Just up to the boundary. Got it?”

His subordinate gasped. “Yes, sir! Full speed ahead!”

The ship accelerated faster and faster, assaulting us with fierce winds and crushing pressure.

“My liege,” Shin said, his gaze trained on a specific point ahead of us. I followed his gaze to make out tall mountains shrouded by low-level clouds. The ship turned sharply, descending towards the summit, going so low the rocky mountaintops were scraping the bottom of the ship.

“Hmph! Fools. This is retribution for sneaking your way onto my ship!”

“Oh?” I said.

Baltzarond looked up, wide-eyed.

“So in your world, stowaways are frowned upon, but invading a foreign nation on a military vessel is fine?” Shin, Lay, and I landed on his ship with Fless. “If you’re going to visit, show the proper respect to your hosts, you savage.”

§ 13. The Frog in the Well Knows Not the Sea

“Sa... Sa...” Baltzarond spluttered, eyes wide in shock. “Savage?! Is this an attempt to sow disorder, knowing that I am Count Baltzarond Flenneroth, renowned hunter of the Five Holy Nobles?! Speak carefully, for your answer will decide your fate!”

“With all due respect, Sir Baltzarond, these outsiders are from the shallows—and from a newly formed world on the first level, at that. They wouldn’t know of the Five Holy Nobles,” one of his subordinates said.

“Huh?!” Baltzarond ground his teeth in frustration. “Curse you... Country bumpkins...”

“You’re a funny one, Baltzarond,” I said. He shot me a sharp glare as all his subordinates drew their swords, ready to fight. “Now, there’s no need to rush to your death. You may be terribly impolite, but if your purpose was to retrieve the Sword of Three Races, then you at least have just reason. We can put it behind us if we talk about it.”

Baltzarond narrowed his eyes further. “Quite the condescending attitude for a thief.”

“But you’re wrong about that. The origins of Evansmana are unknown. As far as we know, it has always been in our world. If it had been stolen before, then we weren’t involved in it.”

Baltzarond appeared to be listening.

“Give us the name of the culprit. If there’s enough proof, we’ll catch them and hand them over to you,” I said.

“Oh? So you’re saying you’ll prove your innocence! Surely you know what will happen if you lie to me?” he asked.

“Do as you please.”

He chuckled. “Very well! Show him the evidence!”

His subordinates stirred noisily.

“What’s wrong? Hurry it up!”

One soldier ran up to him. “Um, Sir Baltzarond. This mission was a decree from the Holy King, so...”

He whispered something in Baltzarond’s ear which caused him to yelp. “There’s no evidence?! Fools, every last one of you! We treated them like thieves with no proof! I explicitly told you all to confirm the culprit before our departure!”

“Th-That’s not it! There is proof, but we weren’t informed of it! His Holy Majesty’s words are the greatest proof of all.”

“What?! His Holy Majesty’s words?! Mere words cannot serve as evidence!”

“Th-That’s going too far, sir!”

“How is it going too far?! Judging an innocent without evidence sullies the reputation of the Five Holy Nobles!”

“But to doubt a decree from his Holy Majesty...”

Baltzarond’s subordinates immediately recoiled at the sudden outpouring of his menacing aura. It seemed like they were stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Enough!” Baltzarond snapped. He stepped before me. “My apologies. It seems I’ve framed an innocent for a crime they didn’t commit. The mistakes of my subordinates are my responsibility. I shall return the sword to you.”

He held out the Sword of Three Races.

“Sir Baltzarond! You can’t do that!”

“Who knows what punishment we’ll face!”

“Silence!”

His subordinates stopped speaking.

“Pinning the blame on an innocent just to protect yourself?” Baltzarond said. “Quiet and refrain from tarnishing the name of the hunters any further than you already have!”

It turned out Baltzarond was an unexpectedly reasonable man. Well, he was still careless for not checking beforehand.

“The Sword of Three Races has its own will,” he said, turning back to us. “If Evansmana went to your world by itself, we can only obey its desire. If we find evidence of thievery at a later date, we will return to retrieve it again. This is what it means to respect a fellow person.”

I looked over at Lay, who stepped forwards and accepted the Sword of Three Races.

“Allow me to introduce myself again. I am Baltzarond Flenneroth.”

“Anos Voldigoad.”

“I apologize for my actions. If there’s anything I can do to make up for it, just say the word,” he said.

“Hmm. I have several questions for you.” I drew a magic circle and pulled out the red claw the one-armed man had thrown at mom. “Do you know what this is?”

Baltzarond’s Magic Eyes widened.

“Sir Baltzarond!” his subordinates yelled. “Get back!”

At the same time, Baltzarond distanced himself from me, suddenly wary.

“This man— This man is...!”

His men released their magic from every pore of their bodies. Their Eyes were widened to the limit, watching us with an intensity unlike anything else until now.

No, it was animosity, not intensity. Their eyes had the still coldness of hunters before a savage beast.

“Stop making a fuss. I know,” Baltzarond said to his subordinates.

“Is this item that big of a deal?” I asked.

“Anos Voldigoad, was it? What you have there is an item that we, the residents of the Holy Sword World Hyphoria, cannot overlook.”

Baltzarond stared at me coldly. It was as if his relaxed expression from earlier had been an aberration; what he was now was another hunter before his prey.

“Where did you obtain it?” he asked.

“It was dropped by a bandit who invaded our world just a little while ago.”

The moment I said that, two of his subordinates charged at me.

“Stop rushing to conclusions,” I said, scolding. “I’m still speaking.”

Their swords swung down mercilessly, paying no attention to my words. Shin and Lay both used their demon swords to block them.

“It’s impossible for anyone from the shallows to repel the Lions of Ruin!” one soldier yelled.

“Sir Baltzarond, this guy has to be in cahoots with Atzenon! If we cannot capture him, we must destroy him,” shouted the other.

While those two had been attacking, the other soldiers had raised their bows and nocked their arrows, pointing every one at me.

“It must be tiring to have to manage such hot-blooded subordinates. It’s the same as before, no? You have no proof.”

“With no proof, there’s no crime. From one person to another, that is the minimum respect we should hold for each other,” Baltzarond said with a bitter face. “But beasts are another matter. Not only did you have Evansmana, but you also have an Atzenon claw. And now, as a noble hunter, I must hunt you down.”

“Oh?”

That was a quick change of heart.

“I cannot allow you to take Evansmana and return to your world. However, as an apology for the false accusation made earlier, I will grant you one final mercy,” Baltzarond said boldly and confidently, as though buoyed by justice. “If you are as innocent as you say, put down all your weapons and agree to become our captives. If you do so, in the name of Count Baltzarond, I will exert all efforts to prove your innocence.”

“And if I refuse?” I said.

“You will not live to see another day,” he stated bluntly.

Regardless of my answer, his subordinates were prepared to kill. The moment we let our guards down, those arrows would rain down on us without hesitation.

Unlike the swords they wielded, their bows had incredible magic—as if the swords were to be used against their fellow man, while these bows were exclusively for use against beasts. And if so, then Baltzarond seemed to be on the softer end of these so-called noble hunters.

“Hm. I see now. You think it’s impossible for something like Atzenon’s claw to be stolen from that girl, Costoria. Thus, you assume that she and I are allies.” I drew a magic circle in front of me. “In other words, in order for me to prove my innocence, I just have to prove I’m stronger than her, correct?”

“Atzenon’s Lions of Ruins are monsters that can easily destroy even nations from the depths!” Baltzarond refuted. “You cannot prove such a thing. Surrender now, for your own good.”

“Bwa ha ha. Such dramatics for something supposedly at the level of a backwater slum. Real monsters should be perfectly capable of destroying worlds.”

A jet-black sun appeared from the magic circle.

“Jio Graze.”

The jet-black sun shot towards Baltzarond. But it was strange—the flames were noticeably weaker than usual.

“Elrosse.”

The moment the cross of light Baltzarond released touched Jio Graze, the black sun froze over. Elrosse didn’t stop there either—it passed through Jio Graze and continued flying towards me. I leaped to the side to evade it.

Or so I thought, but the light brushed against my right leg as it approached, freezing it up to the knee. Was my body heavier than normal? No, that wasn’t it.

“Neither your magic nor your body will move how you wish.”

As I fell to my knees, Baltzarond moved in front of me in an instant. He hadn’t used any magic—only his natural speed.

“Hmm. I do feel a little sluggish,” I noted.

“This miniature world we’re in now is located deeper than your miniature world. The power of everything, therefore, is on a different scale. Strength, speed, tenacity, magic—everything. The pressure of even one atom of air here will weigh you down. The kind of magic that on your shallow-level world would end entire planets, cast here wouldn’t even scratch the ship,” he said in an admonishing tone. He wasn’t trying to kill me, but to coerce me to surrender.

“In your world, that man over there must be powerful,” Baltzarond continued, pointing at Lay. “But in our earlier match, I went easy on him. I went easy on him, and he still couldn’t keep up with my speed. If I, Baltzarond, was serious, that world of yours would have been destroyed. Forgive me for saying this bluntly.”

His figure blurred for a brief moment, moving behind me. I caught the kick he used with my hand, sparks of magic power flying.

“But you are mere frogs sitting in a well.”

My body went flying, crashing into the body of the ship.

“Witness the sea, Anos Voldigoad. Cast aside your weapons and surrender. That is the only thing a being from the shallow world can do.”

“Hmm.”

I slowly got to my feet. I had crashed into the ship with quite an impact, yet it wasn’t even scratched. The objects of this world did seem sturdier than ours.

“So a spell that can destroy a world won’t even scratch your ship, is that right?” I asked, sending magic into my right foot. Black particles formed a spiral, shattering the ice. “What good news. Since you seem so confident in your speed, let’s have a little race.”

I started running along the deck of the ship, but on the very first step, a thunderous explosion occurred under my foot.

Shouts and groans from Baltzarond’s soldiers erupted all throughout the ship—the vessel carrying us had snapped in half and broken apart midair. It hadn’t been able to withstand the force of my first step.

Their screams and shouts of alarm echoed through the air.

“Wha— It can’t be! The Silverwater Ship Nepheus is...!”

“What just happened?! Did anyone see?!”

“To do this with one step!”

“Impossible! Simply impossible! How could someone from the shallows be able to harm this ship?!”

“Forget all that and focus on repairs! At this rate, we’ll overturn and fall!”

“I’m trying! But the engine is severely damaged!”

“Watch out! The Cloudrift Mountains are approaching!”

“E-Evade! Turn now!”

“It’s no good, the rudder won’t respond—”

The Silverwater Ship Nepheus fell, crashing into the mountains that peeked out from the clouds. The ship body became a crumpled heap, falling apart on impact. Soldiers were sent flying into the air, colliding into the mountainside like a rain of boulders.

“Guh!”

Baltzarond straightened himself midair and landed on his feet. His sharp glare was directed at a cloud of dust.

“Bwa ha ha. My apologies. I thought we could have a footrace, but your ship was much more fragile than you said it was,” I said, appearing from the dust with Lay and Shin.

“That...power...” he muttered with a grim expression.

I smirked back at him. “Did you think that a small well would hold a small frog?”

§ 14. Enigmatic Woodlands

I looked out at the mountains we had crashed upon.

Baltzarond’s subordinates had already picked themselves up and raised their bows at us. Although they had been scrambling about before the ship crashed, the impact of a mere collision wasn’t enough to render them unconscious. Every last soldier was still ready to fight—it seemed they were right about being sturdier than the people of Militia’s world.

“Lower your bows. I merely demonstrated a flaw in your reasoning,” I said, but Baltzarond and his subordinates had become even more wary than before. They filled their arrows with magic power. “Hmm. Did I not show enough power?”

“You’re too strong to be from the shallows,” Baltzarond said.

“Do you feel like believing me now?”

“No. You couldn’t have stolen Atzenon’s claw. It’s impossible for someone from the shallows—a world on the first level at that—to shatter Nepheus with a single step! No such order exists across the entire Silverwater Sea!”

I laughed. “You mean no such order existed until now. After all, I’ve been inside a well this entire time.”

“Such nonsense won’t work on me!” Baltzarond gripped the golden hilt at his side and glared angrily at me. “Atzenon’s Lion of Ruin. You stole the Sword of Three Races and hid in the shallows until now, didn’t you?”

Hmm. So that’s what he thinks I am now? I knew very little about things out here, so I couldn’t predict his reactions.

“What is a Lion of Ruin anyway?” I asked. “You see, I was genuinely born and raised on my world, so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Silence! Such tricks won’t deceive me!” Baltzarond shouted. He clearly had no intention of listening. “As a hunter, I am far more attuned to my sense of smell than the workings of the mind. My body moves before I think. I’m more eloquent with sword and bow than I ever could be with words.”

“You’re calling yourself an idiot?”

Baltzarond continued. “That’s why I won’t fall for the words of you Lions of Ruin! The hilt of justice in my hands should decide its next prey! It’s time for judgment, Evansmana! Burn this man and expose his calamity!”

Baltzarond raised the golden hilt up high, the blue gemstone in the guard turning red. His soldiers, watching on, gasped, their murderous intent swelling as the gem changed color.

“Behold. The Sword of Three Races has displayed the red of calamity. This is clear proof that you are Atzenon’s Lion of Ruin, a cataclysmic beast born from the depths of ruin!”

I didn’t get it. It didn’t seem clear to me how the red light coming from that hilt could frame me for a crime I didn’t commit. This man didn’t have a twisted personality like Graham, nor did he have the brains or wit to put on such a convincing act.

Even if Evansmana’s true hilt had the power to identify Atzenon’s so-called Lions of Ruin, why had it responded to me? When I had faced the one-armed man, I’d heard a weird ringing in my ears, as if my source had also seemed to resonate with him.

But what did this all mean? Did it have something to do with what he had called mom—the Abyssal Princess of Disaster? Either way, it didn’t seem like they were willing to listen to me right now.

“Call me what you want,” I said, stepping forwards calmly. “What about it? Atzenon’s so-called Lion of Ruin threw a claw at my mother. Right now, they are my enemy. If you are a hunter as you say, it’d be wiser to set me free so I can deal with them.”

I grinned at his guarded stance. “No one gets away with threatening my peace. Even so-called brethren.”

“I will not hand you the Sword of Three Races...” he muttered, as though he hadn’t heard me at all. He cast a piercing glare at me and the sword in Lay’s hand. His subordinates, too, also looked ready for war.

Then they started running in scattered directions. “Rarze!”

The soldiers drew magic circles that summoned a wind that blew across the entire mountain. Sparks flew and raged in the air, covering the entire mountain area and turning it into their hunting ground. The swirling winds obstructed my vision, preventing my Magic Eyes from seeing clearly.

“Our hunting ground is where the holy wind blows.”

The wind carried Baltzarond’s voice, making it sound like it was coming from multiple directions. Our ears could no longer be trusted.

An arrow wrapped in sparkling wind appeared in front of me. I snatched it with one hand, then several hundred more arrows appeared in my narrow field of view.

“Hmm.”

I grabbed them all with a pale blue Ygg Neas hand, missing just five. The moment the remaining wind arrows were about to bore into my body, Shin’s sword knocked them away.

“My body’s slower,” he said.

“My magic isn’t at full speed either,” I noted. The same had applied to the Jio Graze I’d cast earlier. It didn’t seem to be a matter that could be resolved by simply putting more magic power into the spell either. The enemies were able to use their spells just fine.

“You’re blinded,” the hunters said, speaking as one voice.

“You possess powers no human could have. You are a beast.”

“But in a hunting ground, the hunter has the advantage.”

“The swiftest of lions can be struck by the arrows of Hyphoria’s hunters.”

“May you spend final moments regretting ever leaving your herd.”

The sound of bowstrings being pulled layered over their voices.

“My vision is indeed partially obscured, but still I suggest you stop here,” I said, clenching my fist and releasing a swirling spiral of black particles.

“Partially obscured?”

“You think you can punch us from that distance?”

“The strength to flatten mountains means nothing if you miss.”

“Before the noble hunters, all beasts are equal.”

Baltzarond’s voice emerged from the collective. “Prey trapped in the hunting ground shall be blinded by their fear. The more you struggle, the more you corner yourself.”

I took a large step forwards and thrust my fist out.

“Fool! Your fist is useless at this dista— Gwaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

A fist accompanied by magic power shattered the countless arrows aimed at us and blew apart the Rarze field entirely, sending Baltzarond and the other hunters flying into the air.

“S-Sir Baltzaroooooond!” cried his soldiers.

Some subordinates were blown completely off the mountain, falling headfirst into the woodlands.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop? If I can’t see clearly, I can’t tell who I should hold back against,” I said. There were only a dozen-odd soldiers now—roughly half of the group.

They exchanged looks with each other before rising with Fless and fleeing. Not a bad decision. Once they lost their advantage against their prey, running away was their best option. They only acted when sure of their skill.

“After them. What we want is their information and ship.”

“Understood,” Shin said. He flew after them with Lay, leaping into the Rarze that had been deployed in the sky after the soldiers’ departure like a trap.

“The people of this world are powerful. Don’t chase them too far,” I warned them as I flew down to the woodlands.

“We know,” Lay replied through Leaks.

A sea of overgrown trees filled my entire field of view. It looked like the soldiers had fallen right here, but these woodlands weren’t normal. I could feel a far more powerful magic here than in the enchanted forest of Midhaze—one that prevented my Magic Eyes from seeing properly. When I cast my gaze around, I could see one of their comrades hanging from a tree, unconscious. But there was no one else around. Finding them all like this would be a pain.

But then the problem resolved itself rather simply.

“Where are you, Finn? Reply if you can hear me!” Baltzarond yelled indiscriminately through Leaks. I approached from above to find him and his soldiers carefully searching through the trees for their comrades.

“Sir Baltzarond, we can’t spend any longer doing this...” one of his subordinates said.

“The Lion of Ruin is still an issue,” a second soldier agreed. “But we cannot linger in these woodlands for long. If the Two-Law Usurper appears, we’re done for!”

A third nodded. “Finn is a fellow hunter. He has always been prepared for the worst.”

“Fools! I, Count Baltzarond, would never forsake a subordinate! If your fear is truly so overwhelming, you may leave first!”

Baltzarond continued marching into the woods.

“S-Sir Baltzarond!”

“Please wait!”

His subordinates hurried after him.

“Hmm. If we ever get our misunderstanding cleared up, I think we’d get along quite well,” I said, landing in the woodlands beside them. The hunters immediately raised their bows. “Well? Feel like talking before we go another round?”

I folded my pale blue fingertips in front of me, and the soldier I had seen caught on the branch came flying over. I threw the soldier at Baltzarond, who had been watching with a grim expression. He immediately caught him with both arms.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked warily.

“You should understand my strength by now. Even if your head isn’t entirely there, you should realize you’d have a better chance of getting out of this by negotiating.”

Baltzarond struggled for words. He still looked extremely skeptical. “How can I trust you?”

“Everyone starts from the same place.”

He glared at me without lowering his guard. The soldier in his arms—Finn, if I recalled correctly—appeared to be seriously wounded. He was healing him with magic, but the wound wasn’t healing very fast.

“Let us leave unconditionally,” Baltzarond demanded.

“I can’t do that. This is an unknown world to me,” I said calmly, standing there without showing any hostility. “Let’s have a discussion. I can guarantee your lives will not be forfeit.”

Baltzarond gritted his teeth without responding. Was he searching for an opening, or was he actually considering negotiating? The silence continued for a few more moments.

“In that case,” he eventually said, but then—

“Wh...”

A drop of blood fell on the ground.

The blood had fallen from my lips. Someone had stabbed me from behind. I hadn’t detected any magic near me until the very last moment. But right now, whoever was behind me had far more magic power than Baltzarond.

“The Two-Law Usurper...” Baltzarond muttered, turning pale. “Take Finn and retreat now! I’ll buy you time!”

His subordinates were silent, trembling in fear. Baltzarond grabbed his golden hilt and ran forwards, drawing a magic circle and pulling out a hiltless blade. He connected the hilt to the blade and was just about to send magic into it—when his right arm fell off.

“Urk... Gwaaaaaaaaahhh!”

Whoever had been behind me had instantly teleported before Baltzarond. I could see them now: A tall man in a dark, dark cloak, with unnaturally long silver hair that swayed around him like it was floating on water. He watched Baltzarond groan in agony with colorless eyes.

“Gah... Urgh...”

The silver-haired man stepped on Baltzarond’s shadow. That action alone was enough to make him spew blood and collapse on the spot. The man stared down at him and mercilessly gathered magic in his hand as though to finish him off.

He swung, but his hand stopped right before Baltzarond’s eyes.

“Not so fast. He and I have things to discuss,” I said, having grabbed the man’s arm from the side. “But first, I have a question for you.”

Colorless eyes slowly turned to look at me. There was no surprise in them, no fear—the eyes of someone with no doubt in their strength.

“Is it customary to greet people in this world by opening a hole in their chest?”

§ 15. The Two-Law Usurper

“Two laws will be established,” a hoarse voice said. The silver-haired man had ignored my question. “First: Forfeit the life of Count Baltzarond, Private Institution of Hunting, and leave the woodlands.”

Private Institution of Hunting? That sounded like a school name.

“Second: Sacrifice yourself to Pablohetra’s Academy Treaty, and fight the Two-Law Usurper to the end,” he continued.

I had no idea what he was saying. If I had to guess, it seemed he had deemed me an ally of Baltzarond’s after I had protected him.

“Choose,” he said quietly, not bothering to shake my hand off. As though there was no other choice to be made.

“Hmm. Let’s do it this way. I’ll overlook your earlier greeting and how you ignored my question. In return, you’ll set these guys free and have a casual chat with me.”

“I see.” From the body of the Two-Law Usurper a light arose, soft and yellow like fireflies. It was the glow of his magic. “You choose to sacrifice yourself to the Academy Treaty.”

The man’s long silver hair continued to sway. I couldn’t see into his abyss even when I strained my Eyes.

“Are all of you people here incapable of listening?” I asked, releasing my source’s magic to suppress his power. Black particles rose from my entire body.

The Two-Law Usurper added a tremendous amount of power to his right arm to push me aside. When I pushed back, our magic collided in a fierce crash. Arm against arm, gold firefly light and black particles fought for domination.

“What...is this?” Baltzarond muttered, watching with wide Eyes as he cast healing magic on his severed arm. Just then, a fierce wind blew by.

“Gwaaah!”

Baltzarond’s subordinates were blown back by the wind, crashing into the trees.

“Guh... Ride on the wind! We’re getting out of here!” he ordered.

“R-Roger that! Waaaaaah!”

Another blast of wind sent half of Baltzarond’s subordinates flying, but they all managed to retreat successfully. With a little luck, they should all survive.

But that aside, this man was interesting. He didn’t budge at all.

“The Two-Law Usurper, was it?” I asked. He looked at me without responding. “That’s quite the impressive power you have there. But it almost feels like you’re not taking this seriously.”

Every time he added more strength to his arm, I pushed back with more of my own. The ground rumbled, the entire woodlands shaking from our standoff.

“More. Show me your depths,” I said.

“Strange man. What are you thinking?” his hoarse voice echoed.

“I’ve just arrived in this world and don’t know how much I should restrain myself. This place looks sturdier than where I’m from so far, but I’m worried it will perish if I lose control.”

The man sent even more strength into his arm, with enough firefly-like light pouring out of him to light up the whole area. I released my magic in response, additional black particles surrounding me in a swirling spiral.

“I’ve never met anyone who wanted to use me as a measuring instrument,” he said without any hint of emotion. “Very well. Measure to your heart’s content.”

Vivid firefly lights rose from him in countless numbers.

The next moment, the man released a wave of extraordinary strength. I peered into the abyss of that power and retaliated with even more strength of my own. The nearby trees were ripped from their roots and blown away from the collision. The ground, too, was gouged apart, and in the blink of an eye, the surrounding woodlands were transformed into a wasteland. Our arms had yet to budge—as though we were evenly matched.

“Oh? I was trying to crush you against the ground just now,” I said.

“That was worthy of surprise. It has been a long time since I’ve seen someone as strong as you,” he said, his colorless eyes glinting dangerously. “I’ll acknowledge this: You are worthy of seeing the Two-Law Usurper’s true power.”

He slowly raised a foot and stepped on my shadow. Immediately, an impact reverberated within my body. Blood welled in my mouth, but I gritted my teeth and endured the blow.

“Dagdra.”

A magic circle appeared in my shadow. When the Two-Law Usurper stomped through my shadow, his power stabbed straight into my source. Another impact, heavier than the one before, stirred the very core of my body. Blood of the Demon King welled outwards.

“Vebzud.”

I immediately pierced his chest with jet-black fingers—and was met by a strange resistance. No blood from the wound I had just made, and on top of that, I could not grasp the source that had been right where I had aimed my strike. He didn’t appear to feel any pain either; after my attack, he merely lifted his foot to stomp down once again. I flew to the side at the last moment to evade it.

As soon as I landed, the large boulder behind me shattered noisily. I hadn’t touched it. He had merely stepped on its shadow.

“Looks like that spell needs to hit the right shadow to work.”

I drew a hundred Jio Graze circles and fired them. The Two-Law Usurper drew the same number in return.

“Dogda Azbedra.”

His circles released blue shooting stars that collided into my Jio Grazes and easily swallowed them up. I glared with the Magic Eyes of Destruction and created a Beno Ievun wall, but the Dogda Azbedra pierced through both to rain on my body.

Blue flames swirled, shooting upwards as though to pierce the heavens. My source burned and the blood of the Demon King poured out, rotting the flames until they died out.

“Hmm.”

While physical combat was still okay, the spells of Militia’s world were weaker here. A spell’s might was normally decided by the amount of magic power used in casting it, but each spell still had an upper limit to its power. No matter how much magic power was used in casting Grega, for example, it would never surpass Gusgam—and Gusgam would never surpass Jio Graze. In Militia’s world, Jio Graze was considered the highest grade of fire magic because a higher-grade fire spell would have wiped out entire nations, if not the entire world.

But that wasn’t the case here. Even if I called upon a hundred times more magic power than what the Two-Law Usurper was using, Jio Graze would never be a match for Dogda Azbedra. Out of the spells I had, only Ravia Gieg Gaverizd or Egil Grone Angdroa could surpass it.

However, there was no telling how much force the latter would release. I couldn’t just cast it recklessly.

“Zola e Dypt.”

Jet-black flames swirled around the Two-Law Usurper and turned into chains.

“Jirasd.”

Hellfire chains sealed his movements while black lightning struck. But the Two-Law Usurper evaded both while drawing his own magic circle. His hand sparkled with dusk for a brief moment before Jirasd was reflected back onto me. I glared at it with the Magic Eyes of Destruction, but it couldn’t be completely erased. The reflected spell had several times the might of what I had actually released.

I sliced the lightning bolt in two with a Vebzud-covered hand.

“Intriguing magic. Show me more,” I said. I layered Jirasd over Jio Graze and fired it at him wildly.

“Such a shame,” he replied. “You are strong, but your magic is still shallow. If you had studied the depths more, you would’ve been able to compete with this Two-Law Usurper.”

He slowly moved his fingers, counterattacking with Dogda Azbedra. A blue shooting star easily swallowed the lightning-wrapped sun, exploding it with a thunderous boom. Pillars of blue flames rose to incinerate me, but I dodged them, slicing them apart as I ran. More and more copies of me appeared from the blue flames.

I had used Lynel to clone myself, then used Najira to hide my true body. Ten of my clones stood around the Two-Law Usurper in a circle.

“Zen.”

The man’s spell created a faintly glowing bell in the air. When that bell chimed, the shadows from my Lynel self disappeared.

“Fakes don’t have shadows, is that what you think?” I taunted.

The Two-Law Usurper tried to charge at the real me, then suddenly turned left. There was nothing there—except for my shadow.

“Guh!”

Blood dripped from his chest. My Veneziara self had used Vebzud to pierce his body.

“Did you think there was only one real body?” I asked, but a magic circle suddenly appeared behind the Veneziara shadow.

“Dagdra.” The Two-Law Usurper stepped on the shadow, blowing the possible version of myself away into nothingness. “An embodiment of possibilities?”

The Zen bell chimed again, and he looked around at the shadows around him. He had seen through Veneziara in one look and countered it. Those were no normal Magic Eyes.

“It seems shallow magic isn’t entirely hopeless,” he said hoarsely.

In the opening Veneziara had created, I had wrapped my hands in condensed purple lightning. Bolts fell from my hands, spreading left and right to draw a total of twenty magic circles.

“Ravia Gieg Gaverizd.”

The overlapping circles of purple lightning fired at the Two-Law Usurper. Thunder roared in a deafening howl, the lighting dyeing the entire woodlands in purple light. Lightning of destruction raged throughout his body. Just that purple lightning alone couldn’t be stopped completely.

But this wasn’t Militia’s world. Thus—

“Ravia Gieg Gaverizd.”

My Veneziara selves circling the Two-Law Usurper cast more lightning of destruction. Two spells, four, then six—I layered the destructive magic I cast on him while observing the damage to the world. A total of twenty Ravia Gieg Gaverizd dyed the woodlands the vivid color of ruin. It was something that Militia’s world would never be able to endure.

“I commend you for refining shallow magic to this degree.”

A shadow moved calmly in the middle of the apocalyptic lightning.

“Demud.”

While still being struck by world-ruining lightning, the Two-Law Usurper drew a black pentagram, a magic circle emerging behind him from which a large blue shooting star emerged. Demud had amplified Dogda Azbedra’s magic power to an unimaginable level.

“This is my tribute to you,” the Two-Law Usurper said. “You may brag of it in the afterlife.”

“Bwa ha ha. What ridiculous magic. That’s more like it.”

I cast a multilayered turret of magic circles and turned it towards him. Black particles slowly swirled to form a seven-layered spiral. The ground split apart and trembled as trees from here all the way up to the horizon were uprooted and destroyed. But still, the damage wasn’t as bad as it would’ve been in Militia’s world.

Good. This place was much sturdier than I’d thought. This world wouldn’t break from the shock waves alone.

“Egil Grone Angdroa.”

Apocalyptic flames were released at the Two-Law Usurper, who released a Dogda Azbedra in response. The blue shooting star wrapped in firefly light collided with the seven-layered spiral of black fire. Blinding light engulfed the area. The two spells struggled for dominance, nearly canceling each other out. The blue star was slowly burning into black ash, and the apocalyptic flames were dying out.

In the end, after shaking the entire world, the victor of the struggle was Egil Grone Angdroa. The magic of the Two-Law Usurper had been entirely turned to ashes, and the seven-layered spiral flames shot forwards and directly hit his outstretched hand.

“Leion.”

My Magic Eyes widened. His dusk-covered right hand reached out and grabbed Egil Grone Angdroa—a spell that could turn the worlds it touched into ashes. The apocalyptic flames were entirely contained within one of his palms.

“You are strong. But magic is deeper than you know.”

He quietly drew his arm back and—against all expectations—threw the Egil Grone Angdroa back at me. The seven-layered spiral shot through the air. Just like the earlier Jirasd, it was several times faster and stronger as it directly hit me.

The woodlands were set ablaze, turning everything in ash until the woodlands were woodlands no more, but a sea of black flame.

“Bwa ha ha. The sea is vaster than I thought. To think I’d meet a man who can throw Egil Grone Angdroa back like it’s nothing... Color me shocked,” I said, strolling leisurely through the sea of black flames.

The Two-Law Usurper’s Magic Eyes narrowed slightly. His gaze was focused on my right hand—to be more precise, at the dusky stain there just like his, and the apocalyptic flames grasped in my palm.

“You were right,” I continued. “Without further study of the depths, I’m at a slight disadvantage. It was quite the effort to decipher all the many unfamiliar runes I saw today, but thanks to your examples, I think I’ve got the hang of it. Leion, was it? That’s the kind of spell I love.”

For the first time since he appeared, he took a step back. Any spells grasped by Leion were reflected back with more force. As someone well aware of its effect, it was only natural for him to distance himself.

“It’s my turn now. If you don’t catch it—”

I wound up my arm, added more magic power, and threw the Egil Grone Angdroa back with all my might. The apocalyptic flames shot forwards like an arrow once again, burning any remaining trees—and now, even the sky—black with its shock waves alone.

“You’ll perish.”

§ 16. Ball Game of Ruin

The fireball of destruction left a seven-layered spiral trail in its wake as I launched it in a vicious throw right at the Two-Law Usurper, the fire so strong its trail transformed anything it touched into ash. Dusk-colored magic energy gathered in the Two-Law Usurper’s hand, sucking the fireball towards it. But that wasn’t enough to stop its momentum—as the fireball landed in his palm, he was pushed back, forcing him to dig into the ground to stay upright.

The fireball immediately caught onto the Two-Law Usurper’s Leion, trying to burn it to ash with the power of destruction, but in a bold gambit, I forced my right hand into the fire to grab the spell. Immediately after, the Two-Law Usurper extended his left hand.

“Dogda Azbedra.” He drew a magic circle, firing a blue shooting star.

“Like this?” I asked, drawing the same spell formula with my free hand.

Shooting star collided with shooting star, canceling each other out and creating a shock wave that exploded in swirling fire. The writhing blue flames filled my field of view before the Two-Law Usurper threw back the Egil Grone Angdroa in his hand, the apocalyptic flames flying at me through the remains of the collision.

“Such an old-fashioned trick,” I said, grabbing the fireball with my own Leion-covered hand. The black particles of the seven-layered spiral rampaged, baring their fangs as though wishing to consume the entire world. I forced it into suppression with my physical and magical strength.

A smirk crossed my lips.

“What a ridiculous spell formula. By gathering the might of the spell in your palm, you grasp it with brute force. It’s no wonder you can just grab the flames of ruin—but there’s one point where the spell is stronger than it was originally. If you can’t control it in your hand, it’ll blow up immediately.”

If protecting himself were his only goal, it would have been better to use the same amount of magic power to construct an anti-magic formula instead; being able to grasp the spell didn’t stop it from shaking you all the way to the core. It also consumed an abnormal amount of magic power.

“A spell formula that disregards the safety of its caster. A spell for conquerors. If you designed this magic, you’ve definitely got a screw loose somewhere,” I said, walking forwards while firing several dozen Jio Grazes.

“Unfortunately, I’m no good at anti-magic.”

Sensing my feint, he stood in the rain of approaching Jio Grazes without defending himself. He merely focused on the fireball of ruin in my hand.

“What a coincidence,” I said, leaping towards him in a single bound.

“Dogda Azbedra.”

The Two-Law Usurper cast his blue shooting stars. The Jio Grazes I’d scattered in the area immediately connected to form a magic circle. Shining black flames dyed my right leg.

“Aviasten Ziara.”

I leaped forwards and kicked the Dogda Azbedra. The Two-Law Usurper caught my foot with his right hand as it pierced through the shooting star in a burst of black flames.

“Dagdra.”

With my foot still in his hand, he stomped on my shadow. An intense tremor shook my entire body, blood pouring out of my source.

“That’s the only spell I still can’t figure out,” I said.

I folded my upper body and swung the Egil Grone Angdroa down at close range. We made Eye contact before I slammed the fireball of destruction at him with all my might. The Two-Law Usurper used Leion on his left hand to catch it. Black flames swirled, scattering black ashes.

Although he had to catch the blow at point-blank range, he didn’t flinch at all, even though his Leion had to take a far larger power due to my Leion amplifying the power of the spell.

“Were you actually left-handed all along?” I wondered, releasing the fireball to free my right hand for Aviasten Ziara. I layered Jirasd and Vebzud on top and aimed a hand chop at his left wrist, making him release my foot from his right hand.

The momentum of impact sent my body flying backwards. When my shadow left his feet, the Two-Law Usurper cast Leion again, suppressing the fireball with two hands.

His body was being slowly forced back, feet gouging into the ground.

“Hmm. So that’s how it works.” I looked down at his feet. The Two-Law Usurper had no shadow. “Dagdra allows you to break the body by stepping on its shadow. But you cannot harm the body directly while it’s in range.”

I pointed to his feet.

“You don’t have a shadow, so you’re an exception to the rule. You cannot be harmed while you’re stepping on other shadows—but you can when you’re not.”

Thus, the moment my shadow left his feet, he had been forced back by Egil Grone Angdroa. Although the spell was harder to catch at close range, that logic no longer applied when he was within range of stepping on a shadow. While stepping on a shadow with Dagdra, he was nearly invincible.

“In other words...”

The Two-Law Usurper watched me for an opening to throw the fireball. I slowly stepped forwards until I was one shadow’s distance away from him and spread my dusk-covered hands.

“We should play catch at this distance instead,” I said.

“One question,” the Two-Law Usurper said in his hoarse voice. “Where did you discard the loose screw in your head?”

I burst out laughing. “Not a bad retort, Two-Law Usurper. I’m starting to think that if we actually got the chance to have an actual conversation, you and I might get along.”

He took a step forwards in response. “Dagdra.”

I ducked down and avoided the stomp he aimed at my shadow’s head. His foot broke the ground, sending tremors that knocked my body off-balance.

“Demile.”

He sent a magic arrowhead at me. I avoided it hitting my body only for it to stab into the shadow of my right hand, pinning my right arm to the ground.

“It’s over.”

He raised his arm high, launching the fireball of destruction at my back. Black flames and ash swirled fiercely. I stretched my right hand around my back and caught it with a smirk.

“Not a fan of ball games, Two-Law Usurper? We’re just getting started though.”

“Dagdra.”

The Two-Law Usurper closed the distance further and extended a foot towards my shadow. I lifted my right arm and tore the Demile out by force before running from him at maximum speed.

His foot hit the ground. My shadow had avoided him by a hair’s breadth.

“It’s your turn next,” I said, turning to throw the Egil Grone Angdroa at him as I passed.

Although he was balanced on one leg, he was able to catch it with Leion cast over both his hands. In his grip the spell cast off numerous black sparks, catching anything it touched and turning it to ash. The momentum of my throw pushed him back, and I ran along the ground to follow him.

I maintained a distance of one shadow’s length from him, catching the fireball he threw and throwing it back at close range. As we passed the Egil Grone Angdroa back and forth through Leion, it increased in power. It was already strong enough to destroy this world if either one of us missed their catch and let it fly, but that would be no problem for the man before me.

It was a battle to see who would give in first.

“Come at me,” I said.

The Two-Law Usurper had stopped moving, but he didn’t throw back the fireball immediately.

What was he planning? No, was this...?

“It is your victory. You are strong. You should be proud.”

In his hands the Egil Grone Angdroa was rampaging, no longer held in check. His Leion had failed. The Two-Law Usurper’s power suddenly began to decline.

It was unnatural. In contrast to his powerful body and immense magic power, his source was terribly weak. And it was weakening with every moment, as though his body was absorbing all of his magic.

Was it possible for a man of this caliber to have such a frail source? No, frail wasn’t the right term. When I peered into his abyss, I could see what was going on—his source didn’t match him. Only when his magic started to fade was I able to see past his declining anti-magic wards. All along, his source and body had been mismatched.

“...”

The Two-Law Usurper suddenly cupped the fireball of destruction in his hands, not to launch one last throw, but as if trying to contain it. He knew what was in his hands had enough power to destroy this world, and was trying to use his own body and source to minimize the damage that would be unleashed when he lost control of it.

I extended a Leion-covered right hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ll take two-thirds of it. Figure out the last third yourself.” I tore apart the fireball of destruction with a dusk-colored hand and clenched it in my fist. “Vebzud.”

With my left hand, I gouged open my chest, then shoved the Egil Grone Angdroa in my right hand into my source. There, I allowed the Leion to fail—and made it explode.

Graham’s nihility reduced the power, while my destruction eliminated the rest. Free from Leion, the apocalyptic flames immediately roared to their full glory; the entire forest around us turned to ash, while the blood of the Demon King rotted everything that dared to remain. Mountains fell, lakes dried up, and all the green around us turned gray. The vast woodlands of this world were erased in an instant—the damage, just barely, stopping at that.

I let out a breath of relief.

But it wasn’t over yet. A seven-layered spiral of black particles was beginning to swirl around my body, cracking the ground underneath my feet. The land split with a dull sound, creating a bottomless void; I was worn out, and destruction had leaked from my source.

I breathed deeply, forcing it back under control. Eventually, everything settled with only a few black particles lingering around me. I took a brief look around, taking in the fallout of the blast, and determined the world should ultimately still be able to recover from the damage.

“Now...” I looked over a little ways in front of me, at the lone man collapsed on the wasteland. He had also managed to stop his share of the Egil Grone Angdroa, but had come out of it worse off than I.

“I think we’ve gotten to know each other better after some catch. Are you ready to chat yet?” I asked.

§ 17. The Master Who Cannot Return

Black ash was falling from the sky. Little by little, as though the darkness was peeling away, it fluttered down quietly and piled up on the Two-Law Usurper’s body. Moments passed, his magic power fading by the second.

Colorless eyes turned to me.

“Why did you save me?” he asked slowly.

“Why didn’t you evade the spell? You still had enough magic power left to use Leion.”

The Two-Law Usurper replied. “If I had evaded it, this world wouldn’t have survived.”

“And now you’re dying.”

The Two-Law Usurper stared into space instead of responding. A single tear fell from his eye down his face. I had just met him, so there was no way for me to know what he was thinking.

“What a magically inefficient body,” I remarked. “You won’t last a week like that.”

“Yeah...”

Even as he did nothing, magic flowed out of his body. It was probably why he hadn’t tried for a drawn-out battle.

“You should reincarnate. If you lack the strength, I can help you with it,” I said.

If he reincarnated into a better body, he’d live a little longer.

“Is that a normal occurrence in your world?” he asked.

“Surely it’s something you know how to do.”

The Two-Law Usurper pulled a face that neither confirmed nor denied this.

“I will not reincarnate,” he said clearly.

“Why not?”

“It’s what I decided. I will wait here until my master returns.”

The look on his face said his mind was already made up—that he had accepted his destruction long ago. Perhaps his body had been at its limit long before he and I had ever crossed paths.

“Even if your master returns tomorrow, it’ll be too late.”

“Yeah...”

“Where are they?”

The Two-Law Usurper didn’t respond. But the lonely yet prideful expression that crossed his face was one I was familiar with—I had seen it more than I wanted, two thousand years ago.

“I see.”

It seemed his master was no longer of this world.

“Why,” the Two-Law Usurper said quietly, “did you join the Pablohetra Academy Treaty?”

That was what bothered him when he was on the verge of destruction? But it didn’t seem like idle small talk either.

“You’ve got it wrong,” I said. “Some guys were targeting my mother, and they all had the same foam and ripple insignia as Baltzarond. So I tried to talk to him. That’s all. I have no idea what a Pablohetra even is.”

He looked at me in silence.

“No, I have nothing to prove it either,” I said. “Just forget it.”

“Yet there is nothing to be gained from deceiving the dead,” the Two-Law Usurper said. He lay there in silence for a while, then eventually opened his mouth. “Will you listen to my final regrets?”

I nodded. If he were to perish any moment, then he should leave with as little baggage as possible.

“Speak your mind. I will take your honor to the grave.”

The Two-Law Usurper’s expression softened slightly. He began speaking in a hoarse voice. “The Silverwater Academy Pablohetra is an ancient, huge, and evil embodiment of the class system. Without reciprocity or regard it exploits the ephemeral worlds of everything they have.”

Exploitation didn’t sound like a good thing, but I had no idea what an ephemeral world was.

“Ephemeral worlds are worlds that have yet to evolve,” the Two-Law Usurper explained, seeing my reaction. “Your home had a chief god in charge of the world, no? In evolved worlds, the chief god is capable of perceiving the outer world and crossing the Sacred Silverwater Seas. But in ephemeral worlds, there is no purist, no evolution, and no chief god. The residents of an ephemeral world have no means of noticing what goes on outside.”

I see. The situation in Militia’s world was a little different, though.

“It’s a complex system for someone who just arrived in the Sacred Silverwater Sea, but in essence Pablohetra is stealing vital magic power from those ephemeral worlds.”

That was easy to imagine. Militia’s world had gone through that just recently.

“Firedew?” I asked.

“How perceptive. Indeed, in the Sacred Silverwater Sea, the residents of the depths are stealing from the residents of the shallows. They steal everything, including lives. The residents of the ephemeral worlds cannot even detect them doing it. To them, there is nothing outside of their world, so everything appears to be moving according to order.”

Equis had claimed to use the firedew to maintain the world, but maybe they hadn’t known the full truth of the thing either; they’d believed they were stealing firedew, when it seemed that in reality it was being stolen from them all along.

“My master was someone who stood up against the evil class system. Undefeatable and proud, he was the wind of freedom that blew through the sea bound by order. Who laughed in the face of danger. But one day, a wall of death, unavoidable and insurmountable, appeared before my master.”

His hoarse voice echoed through the wasteland, heavy with feeling.

“It was a strong and powerful wall of death. In truth, he still could have repelled it, but for the sake of another, my master chose to dive into death instead. That was the kind of person he was,” he said, pausing. “My master, the Two-Law Usurper.”

By the last statement, his tone was the softest it had been yet.

“No wonder your magic efficiency was so terrible,” I said, staring into his abyss. “This isn’t your original body.”

“It’s the precious body my master entrusted to me when he set out for death.”

There was a connection between source and body that could never be broken. The reason Ingall could be used even after the flesh faded away was that the source remembered the body. Placing a different source in a body made it very difficult for that body to function. This man had used a massive amount of magic power to simply control this body, and had exhausted his lifespan as a result.

“Without the Two-Law Usurper, this area will fall to the hands of Pablohetra. My master told me not to wait for him. He told me to protect it,” the man said as his magic faded. There was no sign of the strength that had allowed him to throw the apocalyptic fireball of Egil Grone Angdroa without flinching. “I waited here in these lands, spreading the name of the Two-Law Usurper, protecting this sea from them. The whole time I believed my master would return someday. I waited here a long, long, long time.”

The subordinate of the Two-Law Usurper clenched his fist. But the movement was terribly weak, as though his body wasn’t listening to him anymore.

“But he never came back. Finally, I realized I was wrong. Perhaps he was telling me to protect myself. That I didn’t need to wait, because he was no longer returning...”

Regret spilled from him.

“I waited for a master that would never return...”

By this point, his voice was as hoarse and scratchy as the wounds littering his body.

“I should have stopped him. I should have stopped him from marching to his death, even if it cost me my own life. And if I couldn’t have done that then I should have gone with him. Even if it meant discarding my life, as my master’s butler, I should have done it. But instead, I missed that opportunity and outlived him without ever understanding what I should have been protected. Living in a daze...”

He struggled for words, squeezing them out in agony.

“Waiting...in a daze...”

He must have wanted to die with his master. And he couldn’t forgive himself for not doing so.

“At the very least, I wanted to protect his name. By spreading the name of the Two-Law Usurper, in this way my master would still be alive in the Sacred Silverwater Sea. I tricked myself into believing that and continued to live, all the way up until today. I told myself that as long as my master’s body is here, the wind of freedom will continue blowing. That as his name lives on he still protects the sea.”

And so the master’s butler had lived on until today, carrying on the name and body of the Two-Law Usurper—all to fulfill his late master’s last wish.

“But that is now over... And in the end, I couldn’t do anything.”

He probably knew from the start he would fail. But as a butler, he had sacrificed himself for his master’s will.

“Now I will rot away without repaying the debt I owe my master, not even a little,” he said, looking up at the heavens. “Such sentiments are futile, don’t you think? Perhaps I believed if I just kept waiting, kept protecting this land, that a miracle would happen—that my master would one day return, and praise me for a job well done.”

Tears fell from colorless eyes.

“Even though there’s no way my master would praise me for going against his orders.”

His pupils reflected only the ashen gray sky above.

“If possible, I wanted to wait forever...”

That was the only wish remaining of the man who had lost his master—a dream so fleeting, it was like catching mist.

“Forever? For a master who won’t return?” I asked.

“You may think it foolish...”

“Just go find him.”

There was no reply. The butler of the Two-Law Usurper stared at me in silence.

“You can always give up—after you’ve searched for him and confirmed he really did fall to ruin. It’s possible he reincarnated without his memories,” I said to the dying man.

“Wouldn’t that make him a different person?” he asked.

“In appearance, sure. And if his memories are gone, they won’t return. But what’s inside of him won’t have changed.” I watched as with each word I spoke, the slightest amount of light returned to colorless eyes. “At the very least, that’s how it is in my world. So the possibility is there.”

But the man continued staring at the sky without agreeing. “If only I had met you earlier... Even if I wanted to search for my master now, my lifespan is already...”

“You want to protect your master’s vessel and name to the last moment, right?”

The man nodded wordlessly. If his source disappeared, the Two-Law Usurper’s body would become a mere corpse. He could have reincarnated long ago, or at least extended his life, if he had discarded his vessel. But this body was the last memento of his master—it was the proof of his loyalty.

What a fool. A foolish, foolish, noble fool. He knew his master wasn’t returning, yet continued to protect both his master’s name and body. He would believe until the very end that the Two-Law Usurper would miraculously return.

“I’ll protect the Two-Law Usurper’s name and body in your place. I have more than enough magic power to maintain that vessel.”

“Indeed... It may be possible for you...”

“If you can’t believe me yet, you can borrow my body in the meantime. You’re already skilled at using the body of others. You should still have the magic for it. As long as you don’t use the magic I’m going to allocate for maintaining your master’s body for yourself, you should be able to use my body to recover.”

The butler of the Two-Law Usurper considered my offer. “What do you have to gain from that?” he asked.

“I’ve only just left my world. I don’t know the first thing about the Sacred Silverwater Sea or anything outside of where I’m from.”

“So it’s information you’re after?”

“Well, there’s that,” I said with a grin. “But we’re ball-catching friends now, aren’t we?”

His eyes rounded in surprise. Finally, a faint smile emerged on his face.

“How long it has been since I’ve received the compassion of others,” he said. “But it’s too late. When I reincarnated into my master’s vessel, I lost the power to maintain my original body. I cannot gain a new body after leaving this one. All I can do is use Radoplica to reincarnate by fusing with someone else. I won’t lose my memories, but unlike regular reincarnation, the coexistence cannot last. If I enter your body, I will fuse with your source regardless of my will, and eventually take it over entirely.”

Unlike regular reincarnation? But memories could be kept through regular Syrica... Was this the cost of forgetting the shape of his own body? That wasn’t something I had tried before. At any rate, it meant that in order to reincarnate, he had to fuse with someone else.

“All that, and it will only extend my lifespan slightly,” the butler continued. “I can only be saved by the Two-Law Usurper, who remembers the shape of my original body.”

“Fine with me,” I said, walking up to him and offering my hand.

“Why would you go so far for me...for someone you’ve just met?”

“You must have lived a restricted life in another person’s body. From the moment you stepped on the battlefield, you knew your lifespan was limited, but still you dedicated everything to protecting your master’s body and his name. I’ve had my share of subordinates like you, always rushing towards death.”

He stared at my outstretched hand. “Where are those subordinates now...?”

“I dismissed them. They’re not welcome back.”

A look of sorrow crossed the man’s face. “They must be terribly bored right now.”

“They worked enough for a lifetime. I’d be more concerned if they kept working.”

The man smiled sadly. He weakly lifted his hand and grabbed mine.

The butler who waited for a master who couldn’t return. The futility and aching regret in his words reached deep into my own heart. Perhaps the words I had used to dismiss my subordinates could reach this man too.

“What can I do to repay you?” he asked.

“When you safely reunite with your master, introduce him to me. The three of us can play ball together.”

It was a promise that might never be fulfilled. But the man simply chuckled.

“You would get along with my master,” he said, gathering magic in his palm with newfound resolve. “The pain of fusing sources is more than you can imagine. You will need to shrug off the fusion. Do you have a means of doing so?”

“A means for what? You’re the one who needs to prepare themselves. My body isn’t easy to live in, and we don’t have the time to settle you in slowly,” I said, drawing a magic circle with my free hand.

“Gyze.”

I connected to the Two-Law Usurper’s body with a magic link. I took the destructive magic power in my source I normally used to offset the destruction always roiling within me and sent it straight into his body. A normal body would have perished immediately from the influx of power, but the Two-Law Usurper was abnormally tenacious. The vessel would be able to endure the destruction and maintain itself for a while.

“Radoplica.”

He closed his eyes and drew a magic circle over our linked hands. The Two-Law Usurper’s body slumped over as a different type of magic power entered my body. The fusion reincarnation spell had begun.

§ 18. Silverlight

Radoplica seemed to have gone off well, but there was no sign of the fusion beginning yet. The source that had appeared inside me from the butler’s spell was still incomplete, so it seemed he was still in the middle of reincarnating. He had said he wouldn’t be able to coexist inside me for very long, but regardless it would give us time to search for the next solution.

For now, my body faced no impediments from the fusion. Just a slight headache.

“But this is a little too noticeable,” I said, looking down at the Two-Law Usurper’s body, now utterly prone. Hiding him in a storage circle would cut the Gyze connection, so that wasn’t an option. I drew a magic circle over the body. “Ateness.”

Dark light covered the Two-Law Usurper’s body, distorting his outline. He was condensed into formless darkness, eventually refining into the shape of a blade—a jet-black demon sword. There was no guard or hilt, and the tang was directly wrapped in thread. A sheath appeared beside the sword. I had transformed him into a demon sword, but otherwise all his original qualities were the same.

This way, he was easy to both carry around and return to his original form. With Iris I created a sword belt, attached the new blade, and hung it at my waist. It would come in useful while I was acting as the Two-Law Usurper too—I decided to name it the Two-Law Blade.

“Hmm.”

The black particles that had been leaking from me after the damage dealt by Egil Grone Angdroa had slowly calmed down and completely faded. My power was now flowing into the Two-Law Blade instead. The new sword was connected to my source through a Gyze link, so basically it was like a second body of mine.

Since it wasn’t the butler’s original form, it took extra magic power to maintain the sword and, in turn, the vessel it had been transformed from. But since I was using it to absorb my destruction at its full strength, having it actually made my magic easier to control. With the Two-Law Blade, I wouldn’t be in danger of destroying the world even if I went a little wild.

Back in Militia’s world, only my own body could contain my destruction. The sea sure was a vast place.

“My liege,” Shin said through Leaks.

“What’s up?”

“The assailants are heading for a city in the sky. Do we follow?”

A city? That meant more people. Not a place where we could riot.

“Standby outside for now.”

“Understood.”

Just then, the vague magic power within me gained an outline.

“The floating city is Pablohetra,” a voice said through Leaks. It seemed Radoplica had proceeded to the next stage.

“The Silverwater Academy, huh?”

Radoplica hadn’t stabilized yet, but as long as I stayed out of combat, it should be fine. Simply observing shouldn’t be a problem.

I borrowed Shin’s vision and used Gatom. The world turned white, and I appeared in the middle of the air beside Shin and Lay.

They were staring at a large landmass floating in the air. It was fairly wide but was much taller than it was wide. All kinds of buildings were built on the landmass, forming a city with multiple features—lakes, fields, and forests included. The entire island was covered in barriers and wards to protect from enemy attack.

“Where did they enter?” I asked.

“Over there,” Lay said, pointing at the center of the floating island. There was a single section with no barrier, just a large gate.

“It doesn’t look like just anyone can walk in,” he said.

“I’ll ask how to get inside,” I replied.

He looked at me curiously. “Ask who?”

“I made a new friend playing catch just now. He was on the verge of death, so I’m lending him my body.”

“You mean you nearly killed him?” Lay asked with a wry smile. I grinned in return.

“Come to think of it, I never asked for your name,” I said.

The source within me replied. “I am Loncruz Zaevatt, butler of the Two-Law Usurper.”

“Anos Voldigoad. These two are my subordinates, Shin and Lay.”

After telling him my name, the magic power in me increased. Radoplica had progressed.

“A problem has arisen, Lord Anos...” Loncruz said.

“What’s wrong?”

“Radoplica will soon be completed, but the inside of your body is like hell itself. There’s an unbelievable amount of destruction raging, and a nothingness that’s emptier than the void itself. I’ve never seen such a violent source before. It’s the worst matchup for me to try to fuse with.”

It was more or less exactly as I expected.

“Can you adapt?” I asked.

“I will go into a dormant state as soon as Radoplica is completed to adjust to your body and source. But considering the amount of destruction within you, the most it may do is improve my resistance to it slightly...”

So there was no telling until he tried. Maybe it would’ve been safer to move Loncruz to another body. But using Radoplica on Shin or Lay would have exposed their sources to danger. And even if I wanted to transfer him to someone else, it seemed like Loncruz didn’t have the strength to reincarnate multiple times anyway.

“What happens when you’re dormant?”

“I will be awake, but unable to respond. I have some time left, so if you have any questions, ask them now.”

We could deal with Loncruz’s problem after his dormant state had ended, and we knew what his resistance to my destruction was like. In the meantime, I could deal with this.

“The group that picked a fight with me is in Pablohetra. Is there any way of entering peacefully?” I asked.

“The Silverwater Academy Pablohetra is an alliance of academies from numerous miniature worlds. People from all over gather here to work, learn, and fight proxy wars based on the lull of the Sacred Silverwater Sea.”

The lull of the sea? It sounded nice, but what did that really mean?

“The students of each school are the best of their respective worlds. Baltzarond is a noble hunter of the Five Holy Nobles from the Holy Sword World Hyphoria. He’s famous for hunting evil beasts.”

“You said he’s affiliated with the Private Institution of Hunting, right?”

“Indeed. Only those affiliated with the academic alliance may enter Pablohetra. The most peaceful way of entering would be to join them. However, joining the Silverwater Academy means becoming representative students of your miniature world. And having three students is too few to enter.”

That could be resolved by going back to Dilhade.

“What other conditions are there?” I asked.

“You can complete a provisional enrollment with the agreement of the chief god and ruler. After that, if the school meets the requirements, they’ll be welcomed as an official school of Pablohetra.”

“What exactly is the chief god and ruler?”

Loncruz struggled to answer me for a moment.

“The chief god is one who represents the order of the world. The ruler is the purist who conforms most closely to that order—the king chosen by the god,” he replied with a tone of disbelief, as though it should have been common sense.

Come to think of it, that one-armed man had also called Equis a chief god.

“Unfortunately, our world has no chief god. We might have had someone who was on the verge of being one, but I destroyed them. They make a fantastic water mill,” I said.

“You destroyed...?! Surely you jest!” Loncruz shouted, incredulous.

“It’s the truth.”

“You destroyed a chief god and turned it into a water mill... Is such a thing possible?”

“I’m more shocked someone as strong as you finds that so unbelievable. You were much tougher to fight.”

If he hadn’t run out of magic power, we would still be locked in combat right now.

“You are a resident of the shallows. As someone born from the depths, it’s only natural I would be stronger than your chief god. But for someone born of the same world to do such a thing...” Loncruz muttered, still disbelieving. “For the sake of argument, let’s assume it’s the truth. A world evolves when the chief god chooses a ruler. Remember that ephemeral worlds are unevolved worlds that are unable to perceive the outer worlds.”

“Yeah, we couldn’t see anything. We only theorized that something existed outside.”

“And the fact you destroyed your chief god means...you’re not a purist, but a misfit...?”

“Who knows? I might have been called that a few times before.”

Loncruz was stupefied into silence again. It seemed the terms misfit and purist were common throughout the Sacred Silverwater Sea and not limited to Militia’s world.

“I can’t believe it... A misfit from an ephemeral world, destroying their own chief god and entering the outer worlds of their own accord. I’ve never heard of anything like this in the history of the Sacred Silverwater Seas. Surely there must be a mistake...”

“I don’t really get it, but the sea is vast. Anything could happen.”

“But...”

Judging from his reaction, the way we had exited our world was a little unique.

“Well, we can discuss that later. What’s the principle behind entering and exiting miniature worlds?” I asked.

“All right. In miniature worlds, there is an order called the silverlight. The silverlight is a light that can only be seen from outside the world. One can only cross worlds by riding the invisible wind and waves produced by the silverlight. However—”

In the middle of Loncruz’s explanation, I rose up towards the Dark Firmament.

“Shin, Lay, keep an eye on who leaves Pablohetra. If they entered through the front gate while being chased, it must be impossible to teleport in and out of the city.”

“Understood.”

“What will you do?” Lay asked through Leaks as I flew away.

“I’m going to make preparations for joining the alliance. The people who targeted mom are only members of one school in Pablohetra. We can’t just force our way in.”

I flew through the sky swiftly, rising up to the Dark Firmament.

“Lord Anos. In order to leave a miniature world, you must detect the silverlight and board a boat that can ride its wind and waves. That boat can only be made by the chief god—”

Loncruz’s source was shocked into silence again.

I had fired Dogda Azbedra wildly across the Dark Firmament, lighting up the black sky with vivid blue shooting stars. I drew the Two-Law Blade at my waist and wrapped it in the black particles flowing from my source. Combining our powers made it easy.

“Leion.”

The Two-Law Blade flashed with the color of dusk across the burning blue sky. Leion was capable of grabbing Egil Grone Angdroa, so it should have an effect on the invisible silverlight. With the Two-Law Usurper now in the form of a demon sword, there was no way for the blade to actually grab anything. Instead it fanned the flames of Dogda Azbedra.

I strained my Eyes and stared into the abyss of the burning blue sky.

“Bwa ha ha. There, I found it.”

With the dusk-colored Leion around my left hand, I grabbed at the Dark Firmament. I could definitely feel something there. The spell increased the might of the magic, and silver light gradually became visible.

“Is this...silverlight?” Loncruz muttered.

“I used the Two-Law Blade against Dogda Azbedra and the silverlight at the same time. The flames rise differently to when I slash Dogda Azbedra by itself. By working backwards from there, I can guess where the silverlight is even without seeing it.”

Then, I grabbed it with Leion, amplifying the spell. Order was no exception to Leion, and the invisible silverlight increased in magic power until it became visible.

I clenched the silverlight firmly in my left hand, took a few quick steps to build momentum, and threw it at the Dark Firmament. The light illuminated my way, turning into a gale of wind. I grabbed the wind and dove into the light. Countless bubbles passed me like foam before I arrived in the vast silver ocean.

“You’re traversing the seas...in your own body?”

I laughed. “Well, Loncruz? Do you think I could have destroyed a chief god yet?”

§ 19. Steady Departure

I flew through the silver sea with Fless. I had tried using the swimming spell Koko, but the water pressure was so strong it drenched my body, while the water itself threatened to drain me of my magic instantly upon exposure. I used a magic barrier to block the water and flew instead.

“The environment outside isn’t very nice,” I commented.

“The Sacred Silverwater Sea perpetually absorbs magic. This water is called silverwater, and life can only exist in the bubbles that block it out,” Loncruz explained.

The average person wouldn’t be able to survive in the silverwater, much less fly about with their own body.

“So every bubble in the Sacred Silverwater Sea is a miniature world?”

“That is correct. The miniature worlds are sometimes called silverfoam.”

I turned back to see a large silver bubble in the distance, shrinking as I moved away from it. It was the miniature world I had just left.

“Who do I have to talk to about joining the alliance?”

“If you tell the gatekeeper, they’ll guide you through the provisional entry process. I don’t know the exact details, unfortunately, or if you’ll have to submit to a separate investigation. I’ve never heard of an ephemeral world joining the alliance before...”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

There was no chief god or ruler in Militia’s world, but our origins were different, so that couldn’t be helped. Hopefully the alliance was understanding enough to accept a failed-chief-god-turned-water-wheel.

“Lord Anos...”

Loncruz’s voice was distant. The magic being emitted from his source was becoming more peaceful.

“Is it time?” I asked.

“So it seems. I’m sorry I wasn’t more helpful. Do you have any last questions?”

“How should I act as the Two-Law Usurper?”

“Are you sure?” Loncruz asked with emphasis. He had probably been expecting me to ask a more worthwhile question with the limited time he had left.

“I can find someone else to ask the rest, but you’re the only one who really knows the Two-Law Usurper,” I replied.

“In that case, you must show your strength,” Loncruz said. “The strength of the Two-Law Usurper. Not everyone in Pablohetra is necessarily evil, but the academic structure is hardly a fair system. In Pablohetra, you will face injustice and oppression.”

His words were laced with a quiet but clear anger.

“I am aware that I am about to make an unreasonable request of you. But if it’s within your reach, please become the wind of freedom that suppresses the evils of Pablohetra.”

“What about the woodlands? Based on what Baltzarond said, that area was the Two-Law Usurper’s territory, right?”

“The Enigmatic Woodlands are of no particular value. It’s just a place in this sea where they can’t do as they wish. As long as they’re aware of that...” Loncruz’s voice trailed off further.

“If possible, I’ll regenerate it and formally protect it as the Two-Law Usurper’s territory.”

“You have my utmost gratitude. But there’s no need to push yourself. Pablohetra is far too big. The rest can wait until I wake up...”

His hoarse voice, by this point, was barely audible.

“Have a good sleep.”

“One last thing... Radoplica has connected our sources. Our memories may blend...”

Loncruz’s voice cut off there. He had gone into his dormant state. Hopefully he would wake up with a stronger resistance to my body.

“Now,” I said, facing our world and flying at full speed. My vision was unclear, but I had memorized the route when we had first left Militia’s world. I retraced my steps until a silver bubble came into view.

I could feel Militia’s magic coming from it, and followed the path of the silverlight forwards as it flowed out from her world into the silver sea. It was this silverlight that was causing Militia’s magic to leak out into the sea, and it was this silverlight that made it possible to both exit and enter a miniature world in the first place. The assumption could be made that the silverlight of Militia’s world hadn’t worked until the world had reincarnated; that was why Costoria and Baltzarond had only detected mom and the Sword of Three Races after the world had been remade. The timing of their arrival now made a lot more sense.

“Leion.”

Thanks to the silverlight already being visible, it was much easier to enter the world than it had been to exit it. I used my dusk-stained right hand to grab the light and force the wind inwards just as before, allowing me to descend into Militia’s world.

The Dark Firmament came into view, turning my surroundings dark and gloomy. From there, I immediately cast Gatom for the depths of Delsgade. My vision turned white.

“All right! One more!”

“I’m finally getting the hang of this!”

It was already nighttime, yet I could hear students shouting and yelling. Things are rather noisy here.

“Bwa ha ha! You’re more fired up than normal, stoker and fireman. Don’t let it affect your performance in class tomorrow, or it’ll defeat the point of learning,” Eldmed said in the engine room of the Demon King Express. It seemed there were some students who had stayed back after class to practice coal-throwing.

“But Mr. Eldmed, we’re directly providing the magic power that the engine of the Demon King Express needs to operate. Everything starts with us,” one student replied.

“Sure, we might not really get into trouble since we have Mr. Shin and Lay around, but whenever an enemy shows, they’re usually the first to leave,” the other added.

“So if we don’t do our best, the Demon King Express will become sky scrap. We have to train while we can—we have to train like our lives depend on it—or we really will perish!”

“Besides, knowing the Demon King of Tyranny, it may seem like we have all the time in the world to train right now, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows up and asks us to depart in three days or something.”

The two picked up their shovels and resumed throwing coal into the fire. They had learned to minimize any magic loss and had become more efficient in their movements. There was no sign of the terrible posture they had when they had started learning.

“That’s right!” a voice said.

Other students appeared in the engine room.

“That’s why everyone’s following Naya’s lead and staying back to study!”

“Let’s get the Demon King Express up and running within three days so we can surprise Lord Anos for once!”

“That’s a great idea! Agreed!”

“Let’s do it!”

The enthusiastic voices of the students echoed from every carriage of the train. Thanks to everything they had experienced, they were now capable of grasping what was expected of them.

“Voluntarily training with such zeal? How commendable,” I said.

The students whirled around with a gasp.

“L-Lord Anos!”

“Hey! Lord Anos is back!”

The students stepped out of the Demon King Express.

“The situation has changed,” I said. “People from the outer worlds just tried to target the Sword of Three Races and mom. I managed to follow them out of the world and took a look around.”

The students’ faces gradually turned more grim as I apprised them of the situation.

“Well done getting everything prepared. Thanks to your efforts, we can depart on the Demon King Express immediately.”

The stoker’s jaw dropped. “Immediately?”

“Are you serious... Not even three days...” the fireman muttered in horror.

“B-But Lord Anos, all we’ve done is practice. There’s no guarantee the Demon King Express will actually run,” the students said nervously.

“Practice makes perfect, isn’t that the saying?” I replied.

“That’s why we were practicing—”

“There’s no time for more of that. Which is why we’ll use a saying that was popular two thousand years ago: Do it or drown.”

The students paled, and twittered to each other fretfully.

“I don’t think I understand?”

“What does drown mean? To drown ourselves in work?”

“No, you never know with Lord Anos. It could just literally mean drown and die!”

“Or it could be both! If we sink into the abyss while drowning, we might grow more. We can always come back to life if we die anyway...”

“Whose saying was that?” one student asked me.

“Mine,” I replied.

The students all looked at me with despair. Good—it was when they had this expression that they showed their true power.

“As soon as the passengers are ready, we will depart. Get to your positions,” I said.

“R-Right away!”

The students rushed to their positions and began preparations under the instruction of an utterly gleeful Eldmed.

In the meantime, I sent a Leaks out to everyone I needed. A magic circle immediately appeared before me, followed by Misha and Sasha teleporting over.

“What do you mean we’re suddenly leaving the world?!” Sasha immediately demanded.

“Did something happen?” Misha asked worriedly.

“I’ll explain once everyone gets here. For now, board the Demon King Express.”

As I was saying that, Eleonore, Zeshia, Arcana, and Ennessone teleported over. They were followed by Aeges, mom, and dad.

“Anos,” dad called out, running over with mom.

“Is everything okay?” mom asked. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

I returned mom’s concerned look with a smile. “Things have gotten a little troublesome, mom. I don’t know why, but someone is targeting you. I’m about to go outside the world to find the enemy, but I’d feel better with you within range of my Eyes. Will you come with me?”

If Costoria’s group knew I was trying to enter Pablohetra, they might come to this world for mom again. It’d be far safer to just bring her with me.

“Okay. Sure thing! If you say it’s for the best, then it must be true.”

Mom exchanged looks with dad and nodded firmly. They didn’t fully understand the situation, but as always, they were willing to believe in me.

“Oh! Then please come this way, mother, father!” Ellen said excitedly.

“We’ll lead you to your seats!” Jessica added.

Mom and dad followed them onto the Demon King Express. Misa, who had been waiting for a chance to speak, came running over as soon as they left.

“Lord Anos! Do you know where my father and Lay are?” she asked.

“They’re in the outer world keeping an eye on our assailants. We’re going to meet up with them now.”

She sighed in relief. “I see...”

“Get on board,” I said.

“Right away!”

She hurried onto the train.

“Melheis,” I said through Leaks while making my way towards the train.

“Yes, my liege.”

“I’ll be out of the country for about three days. There’s no clear attack planned on our world right now, but an enemy from the outside could strike at any time. They’re strong. If an emergency arises, rely on the Four Principles of the Divine Realm, the Great Spirit Reno, Diedrich of Agatha, and Golroana of Jiordal. They’ll buy time for me to return.”

“As you command.”

“There’s little we know right now. Look over everything I sent you carefully.”

I had already sent all the information I had to Melheis through Leaks. He would share that with the higher-ups of Dilhade, as well as with Reno, Diedrich, and Golroana.

“I will be awaiting your return.”

“Right.”

I boarded the Demon King Express and took my place on the throne that had been set up behind the engine. The Conflagration King then approached with a reverent bow and expectant grin.

“Depart,” I said.

He burst into cackling laughter, having waited for this moment. “Did you all hear that, people of the outer worlds?! The Demon King Express Beltexfenblem is now setting off on its maiden voyage!”

He waved his cane dramatically. “Sound the whistles! Sound the whistles of the Demon King! Let loose the cry that will strike terror into the masses that still linger unawares! Soon all will tremble at this sinister sound!”

The Conflagration King leaped through the air.

“The sound hailing the arrival of the Demon King of Tyranny!”

The steam whistles blew, and the wheels began to turn. The Demon King Express started moving up the waterway channel to the surface.

“Set course for the Dark Firmament. Onwards to an unknown world!” the Conflagration King declared, grinning from ear to ear as he pointed to the sky. “Onwards, upwards, and awaaay!”

§ 20. The Railroad Continues

The Demon King Express churned across the night sky, black smoke rising from its chimney. The train body accelerated faster and faster, reaching the Dark Firmament in no time at all.

“Misha. There’s an order in the Dark Firmament called silverlight that leads the way outside. Its wind and waves cannot be seen by normal Magic Eyes, but the Demon King Express should be able to react to the order,” I said to Misha through Leaks.

“I’ll try,” Misha replied. The overseer room where she was located had several cogs set in place, allowing her to keep an eye on the engine and the rest of the train while staring into the abyss of the turning windmills and waterwheels. It was, as the name implied, a room where she could oversee the Demon King Express with her Magic Eyes.

“Watch,” she said to the other students assigned to the room.

Misha held out her hands and drew a magic circle. The magic power from her fingertips flipped a bunch of switches and turned a number of valves. She was changing the wavelength of order that the windmills and waterwheels were receiving. The students observed her movements carefully.

Eventually, a series of magic runes and numbers appeared on the crystal screen before her. Misha glanced at it. “Reaction detected in the windmill and waterwheels of carriage five.”

The windmill and waterwheels affixed to the Demon King Express had started to turn. They had caught the wind and waves of the invisible silverlight.

“I’ll match the wavelength of the order.”

Misha sent her magic out to the various valves and switches again.

“Look, Enne... The windmill and waterwheels are turning,” Zeshia said, pointing at a magic crystal. Each carriage of the Demon King Express was reflected on the crystal, allowing a clear view of the windmills on the carriage fronts and waterwheels being used as train wheels.

“Wow! That’s so cool! They can detect the wind and waves of order!” Ennessone said in an awed voice.

“Clatter clatter... Clatter clatter...”

“Clatter clatter!”

Zeshia and Ennessone began chanting as the wheels of the Demon King Express turned rapidly. Then, as though connected to these turning wheels, the cogs inside the overseer room began turning slowly as well. The power of order gradually traveled through the carriages, wrapping them in a bronze glow.

The Demon King Express moved like it was being pulled towards something. Silver light became visible in front of us, just like it had when we rode with Baltzarond’s Silverwater Ship. A path of silverlight had formed in front of us, guiding Beltexfenblem.

“The path outside,” Misha said plainly. She looked at both the emerging silverlight and the runes and numbers on the crystal screen in the overseer room with her Divine Eyes. “It’s the same type of order as Equis’s cogs.”

“The silverlight, you mean?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

Based on what Loncruz and that one-armed man had said, Equis had the makings of this world’s chief god. At the very least, they possessed magic that was worthy of being that of a chief god—which meant it wouldn’t be odd for silverlight itself to be made from their order. It also meant that Baltzarond’s ship was able to enter Militia’s world because their chief god’s order was on a similar enough wavelength to interfere with ours. The similarity in their wavelengths was how the boats created by the chief gods were able to cross miniature worlds.

“I think I can change the silverlight path so it can become a railroad exclusive to the Demon King Express,” Misha said.

“Try it,” I replied.

Misha sent her magic out again, operating more switches and valves. Just as all the wheels of the train transformed into cogs, the silverlight path began to shift. The light refined in shape, taking the form of cogs that fit perfectly against the cogs of the Demon King Express. When the cogs of the train rotated, the cogs of silverlight did too. The order was now obeying the Demon King Express—and the transformation wasn’t done there.

The cogs of silverlight turned into a railroad, and now, a shining silver railroad spread across the Dark Firmament, the end of which sparkled like an exit. The cogs on the train returned to the shapes of wheels and fit against the silver railroad.

Eldmed cackled with laughter. “How fascinating! Stoker! Fireman! Throw the coal in at full strength! We’re going to charge straight for that light exit!”

“Got it!”

The two black-uniformed students eagerly started shoveling coal into the firebox. More smoke belched from the chimney and the wheels of the train turned faster.

“Eleonore, put up a magic barrier,” I said.

“Right away!”

In the barrier room, Eleonore released her magic above a fixed magic circle. The black smoke turned clear before transforming into a glittering magic barrier that covered the Demon King Express. On the newly constructed silver railroad, the Demon King Express shot across like a bolt of lightning, charging into the light.

The next moment, the view outside the window was filled with bubbles.

“Whoa! It’s a sea of silver!” Eleonore cried.

Everyone else was rendered momentarily speechless at the sight of the shimmering silver sea. But the view wasn’t just magnificent; there was horror hiding behind the beauty. The Sacred Silverwater Sea was vast beyond imagination, and there was no telling what dangers lurked within.

Sasha stared at the silver water through the window with a serious expression.

“Child of destruction,” Arcana called out to her. “Were you thinking of a funny joke just now?”

“Not at all?! Why would I think of a joke at a time like this?!” Sasha retorted, losing her serious mood immediately.

“The order of abdominal muscle destruction is activated when everyone else is serious.”

“Stop making me sound like a clown eagerly waiting for a chance to make people laugh!”

“I was just wondering if you were thinking of a way to lighten up the room...”

“Again, why would I do such a stupi— Huh? That’s actually a pretty nice thing to do,” Sasha mumbled in realization.

Just then, the Demon King Choir girls who were in the same room came close to them.

“Cana’s a blasphemous comedian, after all!” Ellen said.

“Yup yup. It’s admirable how she’s always looking for humor in every moment.”

“There’s nothing to do in the turret room, so it gets tense in here pretty easily.”

“Right?! Oh, but that doesn’t mean we want to be busy either!”

“That’d mean an enemy attack! I’m just happy to see Lady Sasha and Cana as their usual selves.”

“Was I of use to you, choir child?” Arcana asked.

The girls all replied with enthusiastic words of agreement.

“Of course!”

“That’s Cana the Goddess of Absurdity for you!”

“You’re so blasphemous today!”

Sasha looked grim, but in a decidedly different way than before. “Cana the Goddess of Absurdity? What...”

Her voice was drowned out by the chants of “Blasphemous! Blasphemous!” echoing through the turret room.

“Overseer room here. I think I can further extend the railroad like this,” Misha reported to the engine room.

“Bwa ha ha! That’s great news,” Eldmed replied. “If the silverlight connecting the world inside and outside can be extended, Leaks should be able to reach Militia’s world from out here!”

“Try it,” Misha said.

I drew the magic circle for Leaks. “Can you hear me, Melheis?”

There was no immediate reply, but after a while...

“Yes, I can.”

Hmm. It worked.

“Good news. It seems Leaks can reach outside the world to an extent. I’ll contact you again if the connection weakens.”

“Understood.”

If the railroad could reach all the way to the other side back to our world, I’d be able to know if Militia’s world was invaded the moment the threat arrived, and could return to deal with it right away.

“So, where are we headed, Demon King?” Eldmed asked.

I used magic to draw a map in front of him.

“This is our destination. The currents might be a little rough, but take the shortest route there without any detours. Proceed carefully.”

Eldmed glanced over the map. “Stoker, fireman, maintain speed of six tons per minute. Connect the wheels to the second cog. Full speed ahead.”

“Got it!” the two black-uniformed students replied, throwing coal into the firebox.

“Construct the magic railroad.”

“Roger that!” answered another student. “Constructing magic railroad!”

Eldmed grinned. “Next stop: an unknown world!”

Silver railroads were constructed in front of the Demon King Express as it ran, allowing it to travel uninterrupted at rapid speed. The combination of the train and the silverlight rails allowed us to move even faster than Baltzarond’s Silverwater Ship. At this rate, we’d arrive much earlier than expected.

Just then, I heard the sound of sobbing. I looked over to see mom was crying. Dad was supporting her with an arm around her shoulders, tears in his eyes as he stared out the window unseeingly.

Hmm. This wasn’t good. I might have overestimated their tenacity. No matter who they had been in their past lives, right now they were just regular humans. Even Sasha and the others had fallen speechless at the beauty and horror of the Sacred Silverwater Sea. The sea that allowed no life to thrive within it could instill fear directly into one’s source. As two regular humans, they had no means of resisting that instinctive terror.

“Don’t worry, mom, dad. I’ll protect you.”

Mom looked at my face blankly with teary eyes. She wasn’t even capable of speaking anymore. This could be a problem.

“Arcana, Sasha. Come to the engine room,” I said.

They teleported over immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Sasha asked.

“I need to watch the outside. Look after mom and dad for me. They seem to be feeling a little dispirited.”

She immediately understood what I meant and nodded. “Got it.”

The two approached mom and dad and called out to them.

“I wish to have a conversation with you,” Arcana said.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Sasha added. “No matter how dangerous the world is, there’s nowhere safer than right by Anos!”

“Sasha! Arcana!” mom cried out, as though something inside her had snapped. She burst into a fresh wave of tears, and clutched the two of them to her in a tight embrace. “Help... I can’t hold on anymore!”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay,” Sasha said.

“But... But Anos is just so cool when he’s working!”

“Excuse me?”

“My little Anos... He...” mom said between sobs. “He finally let us peek into his work life, but I forgot to bring my magic camera to catch him in action! I’m a failure of a mother!”

All expression vanished from Sasha’s face. Arcana looked at dad.

“I’m sorry! I forgot too! The camera burned down in the house anyway!”

Dad slumped down on a seat, stifling his weeping as best he could. Arcana and Sasha exchanged a look.

“I think mother and father are treating this like a bring-your-parents-to-work day,” Arcana said.

“How typical...” Sasha muttered.

With such peaceful passengers on board, the Demon King Express continued its maiden voyage through the Sacred Silverwater Sea.

§ 21. The Name of the World

Two hours later.

A large silver bubble appeared before the train—the miniature world of our destination.

“Connect the silverlight rail,” Eldmed directed.

“Roger! Connecting railroad!” a student replied.

The silver rail extended straight forwards, touching the silverlight that spilled from the miniature world.

“Railroad connection complete!” said another.

“Sound the whistles. We’re entering the bubble,” I said.

The Demon King Express advanced along the railroad as though it was being lured in towards the light. Everything before us turned silver before we made it through to the Dark Firmament.

“Secure railroad,” I said.

“Roger. Railroad has been secured!”

The railroad we had traveled on was anchored in place.

“Derail from track.”

“Roger! Preparing to derail!”

The Demon King Express’s wheels detached from the rail, and the train descended through the black firmament. Before long, clouds could be seen through the window. We had arrived at the sky just below the Dark Firmament. The sun of this world had already set, and the moon was rising in its place. Just like in Militia’s world, it was night here.

“Large magic power detected from above,” Misha warned from the overseer room. She drew a magic circle. “Limnet.”

The magic crystal set up in every room of the train displayed an image. For a brief moment, I doubted my eyes. Through the sky, a huge castle was making its way towards us—one with a beautiful, awe-inspiring form that I was terribly familiar with.

Sasha tore her eyes away from the Limnet image to directly look outside the window.

“Isn’t that...Zeridheavens?” she muttered in shock.

The Sky Fortress Zeridheavens that once flew freely through the sky of destruction, the only vessel that could endure the direct rays of Sarjieldenav. It was a sight that had been long burned into Abernyu’s mind.

“There’s no way, right?” Sasha turned to me.

“The exterior is a little different,” I replied.

It was, however, nearly identical to Zeridheavens. But Zeridheavens had been lost from Dilhade with Farris Noin’s death. His reincarnation had yet to be identified too. Why was it here, flying in an outer world?

“To the owner of the Sky Fortress,” I said, sending a Leaks to the ship now flying alongside us. “I am Anos Voldigoad, the ruler equivalent of Militia’s world. I have two or three questions for you.”

There was no reply. Instead, the Sky Fortress just got closer.

“Collision incoming,” Misha said.

On Eldmed’s directions, the steam whistles blew.

“We are Kaltinas Ilbena, Immovable King and Ruler of the Silvercastle World Balandias,” a Leaks echoed in response as the Sky Fortress made contact with the Demon King Express.

“Kyaaah!”

“H-Hey!”

“You idiot! Watch where you’re going!”

The tremors shook the Demon King Express, making the students cry in protest.

“Dimwits of the nameless shallows, consider this a lesson in etiquette. Do not step ahead of those from the depths, much less ahead of the ship of their ruler.”

It was clearly an intentional collision. After giving the Demon King Express a light shove, the Sky Fortress immediately changed route and shot off at a fearsome speed. Its destination was the Silverwater Academy Pablohetra, floating in the sky some distance away. The Sky Fortress slowly descended towards the magic barrier.

“Is that the Pablohetra you mentioned, Anos?” Sasha asked. I had already explained everything that happened until now on our way here.

“That’s right.”

“Hmm. So those guys just now are also part of the academic alliance.”

She glared at the Sky Fortress heading for Pablohetra, clearly displeased with Kaltinas’s attitude.

“I’ve spotted Lay and Shin,” Misha’s voice said, reflecting the two of them on the Limnet crystal. They had noticed us and were flying over.

“Open the door to the passenger cabin,” Eldmed ordered.

Misa stuck her head out of the door and waved at them. “Father! Lay! Over here!”

They both boarded the Demon King Express.

“There was no movement from the assailants, my liege,” Shin said immediately.

“Good work. Get some rest for a while.”

“Understood.”

Now, to get this provisional enrollment underway.

“To the gatekeepers of Pablohetra,” I said to the floating island through Leaks. “I am Anos Voldigoad, resident of Militia’s world. The Demon King Academy requests to join the Pablohetra Academy Treaty.”

Far in the distance, the gatekeepers exchanged looks with each other.

“Demon King Academy? As in an academy ruled by a Demon King? Hey now...”

“Newcomers from the shallows, huh? They probably just don’t know yet. They’ll rename themselves soon enough.”

Did they think I couldn’t hear them? They chatted to themselves a bit more before responding.

“This is Pablohetra. We will not refuse like-minded comrades. Welcome, people of Militia. We will open the barrier for you, so please enter.”

“Got it.”

I looked over to see a section of the magic barrier covering Pablohetra had vanished.

That was easier than I thought. All I had done was express my intent to join them, and they had invited me in. I guess a single ship was no threat to them.

“Descend,” Eldmed ordered.

“Roger. Descending towards Pablohetra,” a student replied.

The Demon King Express slowly descended to the uncovered section of the island.

“The harbor is at the lake adjacent to the Pablohetra Palace at the center of the city. Land on the white magic circle you’ll find there.”

Eldmed directed the Demon King Express as the gatekeeper instructed. From our overhead view of the floating island, there was a large palace at the center with several cities spaced around it. At a glance, the area was roughly ten times the size of Midhaze.

“Landing now!”

There was a long white magic circle drawn on a large lake of clear water, matching the shape of the Demon King Express. The train slowly landed on the water with a splash. Bubbles rose from the white magic circle, wrapping around the body of the train.

Then, the Demon King Express began to sink. Once it reached the bottom of the lake, we could see several caves before us. The train entered one of the caves and moved forwards for a while before it began to rise again, breaking through the surface once more. The bubbles surrounding the train burst, as though having been dismissed upon completing their duty.

“Let’s get off. Open the doors,” I said.

All the doors of the Demon King Express opened. I rose from the throne and stepped outside. The others alighted after me.

From what I could see of our surroundings, we were in a large room made of stone. A hangar, perhaps.

“Welcome to Pablohetra,” a voice said. Approaching us was a woman in a silver dress, holding a large windup key in her hand that was large enough to power a human-sized clockwork doll. “Pleasure to meet you. I am Pablohetra’s Arbitration Goddess Ottolulu, and I will now conduct Pablohetra’s arbitration process. Who is your ruler?”

“My world has no ruler,” I said, stepping in front of the Arbitration Goddess. “But I am the representative of the academy. If you need a ruler for your documentation, you can put me down.”

Ottolulu continued without a hint of wariness. “Do you seek to join the Pablohetra Academy Treaty?”

“That’s why we’re here.”

“Welcome.” Ottolulu bowed once. “However, there is no silverfoam without a ruler. I assume it hasn’t been long since your people reached the Sacred Silverwater Sea. Is this correct?”

“We left our world just today.”

“Where is your chief god? The chief god of the world is the god that governs the order of the world, also known as ‘the will of the world,’” Ottolulu said in a practiced tone. She probably thought we were new to the outer worlds and didn’t know what a chief god or ruler was.

“Unfortunately, ours was a bit defective. They weren’t really worthy of the title.” I glanced back at the Demon King Express. “But if you absolutely need one, they’re over there.”

“Can I meet them?”

I had meant that the train itself was the god, but I guess it didn’t matter. It was still capable of conversation.

“This way.”

I led Ottolulu to the engine room of the Demon King Express and opened the firebox.

“Equis. You may speak.”

As soon as I said that, sparks of fire burst from the firebox.

“Did you think,” Equis’s voice said, “that everything would always go your way?”

“Pleasure to meet you, Chief God Equis. I am Pablohetra’s Arbitration Goddess Ottolulu. May I confirm your will to join the Pablohetra Academy Treaty?”

“My will?” Equis spat. “I have none! I will never let this man do as he pleases— Gwaaaaaah!”

I threw a shovelful of coal into the firebox to remind Equis just who their master was now.

“What...”

“They’re a bit of a complainer, but their order is pretty honest. As soon as I throw some coal in there, they’ll wag their tail obediently.”

I threw more coal inside.

“Urgh... How dare you! You! Why do I have to endure this...this...!”

Black smoke rose from the chimney, transforming into runes that spelled “Woo-hoo alliance!” I stepped out of the engine room and pointed at the black smoke. “It’s as you see.”

The Arbitration Goddess stared at the smoke with her Divine Eyes. As she focused her magic power, a cog-like magic circle appeared within the smoke.

“I can indeed see the same order in the black smoke as is within your chief god. Pablohetra is aware of the vast diversity of relationships that may be between a chief god and ruler. While cases in which the ruler treats their chief god as a slave is rare, it is also just simply another way of the world. This black smoke is sufficient proof of the chief god’s will to join the alliance.”

Ottolulu looked over at Sasha and Misha. The cogs in her eyes turned.

“I can see that you have other gods accompanying you. I will approve of your designation as the ruler.”

Hmm. I’d expected more conflict, but we had passed rather easily. It was becoming clear that from world to world, the values of miniature worlds varied greatly.

“Please, come this way. The next step in the arbitration process is for you to receive explanations about Pablohetra, but not all of the required lectures are held at this late hour. I will show you to your lodgings in the palace so that, for today, you may rest there. I will retrieve you tomorrow to complete the rest of the process.”

Ottolulu turned and walked out of the hangar, with us following.

“There are a few more questions for you to answer for the enrollment process. Please tell me the name of your world,” she said.

“I’ve been calling it Militia’s world,” I replied.

“So the chief god of your world hasn’t given it a name.”

“Like I said before, ours is defective. They’ve been too busy with a few miscellaneous matters to bother with that.”

Beside me, Misha and Sasha looked like they wanted to say something, but they held their tongues.

“In accordance to order, the name of a world is the name of the creation god who made it, prefixed with a descriptor fitting of that miniature world’s order.”

So there are rules to naming worlds, huh?

“In other words, the Holy Sword World Hyphoria was made by a creation god called Hyphoria, and the order of the world has something to do with holy swords?” I asked to clarify.

“That would be a sufficient understanding of the rule, yes,” Ottolulu replied simply.

“Then the name of our world is Militia. We’ll decide on a descriptor later.”

“I will register you as so,” she agreed. “Next, please tell me your name.”

“Anos Voldigoad.”

Ottolulu paused to open a door. It led to a guest room fully furnished with everything a person could need for an extended stay.

“There are more rooms within, which I believe should be enough for your numbers. For tonight, please stay here. I will come get you in the morning.”

“Got it.”

I wanted to look around Pablohetra immediately, but it was better to do as she said for now. Everyone was tired anyway.

“Finally, what is the name of your academy?” Ottolulu said.

“The Demon King Academy.”

Ottolulu, who had been asking all her questions in an impersonal tone until now, paused in contemplation.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“No. It is not my duty to judge the names decided by other miniature worlds. That is your freedom.”

What a roundabout answer, but whatever. There was something else I wanted to ask anyway.

“What’s the name of this miniature world?”

“This place is the Seventh Elenesia World.”

Misha’s and Sasha’s eyes both rounded in surprise.

“It’s the seventh silverfoam owned by the Magic Bullet World Elenesia,” Ottolulu said. “The Seventh Elenesia World is a designated freewater area and can be entered and exited at any time by the residents of any miniature world.”

Misha and Sasha both looked at me in shock as they listened to Ottolulu’s explanation. We had just learned that the name of a world was based on the god that created it, meaning the creator of the Magic Bullet World was the Goddess of Creation Elenesia—the same name as Militia’s mother.

§ 22. Origin of the Miniature Worlds

The next morning.

We changed into our school uniforms and waited in our Pablohetra lodgings. Mom and dad had been assigned the role of recordkeepers and given a magic camera, tripod, and image recorder created by Arcana. They were currently snapping photo after photo of me. Ottolulu had stopped by earlier to tell us to be ready in an hour’s time, and since then, nearly an hour had passed.

“Calm down,” I said to Sasha, who was pacing restlessly by the door. “The Gui Ambarret person who visited you is sure to be from the Magic Bullet World affiliated with Pablohetra.”

“My mother is alive?” Misha murmured.

“If she wasn’t, he wouldn’t have made you pick out a birthday present for her.”

“But how?” Sasha asked. Elenesia was meant to have perished after creating her successor, the Goddess of Creation, Militia.

“I don’t know. But since Gui didn’t disclose whether she was actually alive or not, there may be difficult circumstances surrounding the matter.”

“Was he worried we’d try and take her back?” Sasha wondered.

“Who knows?” I said. “Unfortunately, I don’t know the first thing about the Magic Bullet World, or about Pablohetra itself.”

“Right...”

We didn’t have any clues to go off of. Both Misha and Sasha knew they had no choice but to wait for now. But I couldn’t fault them for worrying about their mother either.

Just then, we heard a knock.

“It’s me, Ottolulu.”

“Come in,” I said. The door opened, revealing the Arbitration Goddess Ottolulu.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“Yeah.”

“Then please follow me.”

Ottolulu led us down the corridors of the palace, eventually stopping in an area enclosed by pillars. In the center of the area a fixed magic circle had been arranged.

“Stand here,” she said, then waited for us to all get on the circle. “To Shallows Hall One.”

We teleported, our vision filling with white light. We then arrived in front of a large double door.

“This is Pablohetra’s Shallow-Level Auditorium Number One. Most lectures are held here. Come inside.”

She opened the door. Inside was a wide room, with a round teacher’s podium set in the middle surrounded by desks and chairs arranged in neat, concentric circles. A number of uniformed students were already seated. Most schools were seated together, but there were a few groups of students wearing different uniforms.

Ottolulu walked forwards and pointed at a section of the room. “Militia’s World has been assigned seats there.”

“If this is the shallow-level auditorium, does that mean there’s a deep-level auditorium?” I asked. None of us moved to take a seat just yet.

“And there is also a middle-level auditorium. The miniature worlds of the Sacred Silverwater Sea exist at different depths. Levels one to ten are the shallows, eleven to twenty are the middle levels, and twenty-one onwards are the depths.”

Come to think of it, Baltzarond’s subordinates had also called Militia’s World a world on the first level.

“How are those levels decided?” I asked.

Ottolulu floated up into the air and drifted over to the podium, then sent magic into the round, spherelike blackboard that had been set up behind the podium.

“A miniature world’s level is decided by the strength of the world’s order. The level indicates how large the world’s influence is on the Sacred Silverwater Sea overall. Magic power flows from the shallows towards the depths, with order also exerting its power from the shallows to the depths.”

The spherical blackboard was some kind of magic instrument. It responded to her magic by turning transparent, revealing six silver bubbles within. Five of them represented shallow-level worlds, with one representing a deep-level world.

“Let’s assume the shallow-level worlds have a magic value of ten, and their order of weight is also ten. The same goes for the deep-level world.”

Ottolulu’s rules were written into the blackboard as “Shallows: Magic 10, Weight 10” and “Depths: Magic 10, Weight 10.”

“In accordance with the order of the Sacred Silverwater Sea, magic flows towards the depths, and order exerts its power in the depths. When one unit of magic moves from the shallows, one unit of order exerts itself.”

One unit for magic and order was subtracted from the shallow-level worlds. The text changed to “Shallows: Magic 9, Weight 9.”

“The magic and order are applied to the deep-level world, turning into power.”

One unit of magic and weight was removed from each of the five shallow-level worlds, adding a total of five units of magic and weight to the deep-level world. The text by the deep-level world read “Magic 15, Weight 15.”

“In reality this is not so simple, but this is the general rule of the Sacred Silverwater Sea. Miniature worlds that possess more magic and have more order are heavier, sinking further into the abyss. This is what is considered depth.”

I see. The Seventh Elenesia World was more powerful than Militia’s World by as many shallow-level worlds that had working magic and orders. Naturally, that power affected the people living in these worlds too.

“There are many issues that make it inefficient to measure the magic power and order of a miniature world directly, so firedew is used as the unit of measurement instead. The more firedew a world has, the deeper the level in which it’s located.”

The location she was talking about wasn’t a physical location, but the strength of the world’s order.

“So frankly speaking, the depths are stealing firedew from the shallows?” I asked.

“You may think of it that way if you wish,” Ottolulu replied, “but firedew does not belong to anyone. It is the universal order of the Sacred Silverwater Sea. It is natural for firedew to cross the seas and travel through silverfoam.”

Equis had been stealing firedew. They had claimed they were consuming the firedew, but Ottolulu’s reply revealed the truth to that answer. If we looked at Militia’s World alone, the firedew seemed like it had been consumed. But Equis hadn’t known about the outer worlds at that time, and so the firedew they thought they had consumed had actually crossed to another miniature world.

“Say, does that mean...” Sasha mumbled beside me.

“Our mother’s firedew left the world,” Misha said, quietly answering her question.

We had believed that their mother, the Goddess of Creation Elenesia, had perished. But in reality, her source had become firedew and crossed worlds, resulting in her birth as the Goddess of Creation in the Magic Bullet World.

“There’s still time until today’s lecture commences. I will explain a bit more about the order of the Sacred Silverwater Sea to the group from Militia’s World. Please have a seat,” Ottolulu said.

I pulled back a nearby chair and sat down. The others did the same.

“You asked me if the deep-level worlds were stealing firedew from the shallow-level worlds. But the movement of firedew does not occur naturally. This is because the chief god of the world who maintains that order should be preventing the firedew from leaking out of their world.”

She drew a clear bubble on the spherical blackboard. The words “ephemeral world” appeared beside it.

“The movement of firedew mostly occurs in ephemeral worlds, which is what we call the countless number of dark, fleeting bubbles that float near the surface of the Sacred Silverwater Sea. It’s believed that all worlds began as ephemeral worlds, even the deep-level worlds in the abyss of the sea.”

She added the words “unevolved” next.

“Ephemeral worlds are unevolved miniature worlds. The term also refers to worlds in the Sacred Silverwater Sea that haven’t been born yet at all. This is because ephemeral worlds have no chief god or ruler. Without a chief god, the miniature world is unable to fully control its order; without a ruler, the residents of the miniature world will fight amongst themselves for eternity. The result is as you can imagine.”

The ephemeral bubble popped, vanishing from the blackboard.

“When left alone, these bubbles burst and disappear. That is why we call them ephemeral,” Ottolulu said. She drew more bubbles over the blackboard, marking them as ephemeral worlds. “However, not all ephemeral bubbles vanish. The worlds lucky enough to survive will eventually undergo an internal transformation.”

She wrote the words “birth of a purist.”

“Gods and order exist in ephemeral worlds as well. The will of a world exists within them both as seeds, leading the world in a particular direction. The seeds cannot be visibly perceived, and do not have consciousness of their own. The gods obey this ambiguous will and lead the world to its correct order. In almost all cases this fails, but in some ephemeral worlds blessed by the Sacred Silverwater Seas, purists are born.”

In the case of our world, the seeds of the will of the world were Equis’s cogs.

“A purist is an evolved life-form possessing magic and strength, abilities that exceed even the gods’, and the power to lead the world in a better direction. As more purists are born, the miniature world undergoes further change, that being the birth of a chief god,” Ottolulu explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “The existence of a purist strengthens the firedew of the world they inhabit, making order more powerful. Eventually, one of the seeds left in the gods will sprout, turning that god into the chief god, also known as the will of the world.”

That was a little different to what had happened with us. Graham’s experiment had involved gathering the seeds and testing whether they would gain a mind of their own when combined together—resulting in Equis, the god that was a collective of cogs. Ottolulu called them seeds of the will of the world, but the fact they had formed a consciousness when gathered together made it more natural to call them fragments. But she wouldn’t know that unless something similar had already happened in another ephemeral world.

“The birth of a chief god changes a miniature world dramatically. Once born, the chief god selects a ruler worthy of governing the miniature world. All the candidates for that position are purists.”

“So the ruler is a purist who conforms strictly to the position?” I asked.

“To the position, and to the evolved world. The chief god can distinguish who is most fitting for the order of their world.”

That meant the holo boy Vade had been a candidate for the ruler position. In our world, I had stopped all destruction, which in turn had stopped new life from being born—including purists. Equis had had to use his power to create purists by force.

“The chief god selects a purist to become king of the world. Once the ruler is born, the ephemeral world evolves into a silver bubble.”

It was now pretty clear that having our world reincarnate to rebalance order had accidentally resulted in the evolution of our world into a silver bubble.

“Are there other ways of evolving?” I asked.

“No. All miniature worlds go through this process of evolution. As led by the order of the Sacred Silverwater Sea,” Ottolulu replied immediately.

So our world was the exception then. The people of Pablohetra didn’t think it was possible to evolve without a ruler or chief god.

“On the other hand, ephemeral worlds that don’t evolve will continuously release their firedew. The receptacles of this firedew end up being the evolved miniature worlds. As magic flows from the shallows to the depths, so does firedew.”

That was pretty much what I had expected. Before we had our world reincarnate, the firedew in our world had crossed to other worlds. Elenesia was included in that—and maybe, also, even my subordinates that rested on the hill overlooking Midhaze.

“The firedew released by ephemeral worlds brings miniature worlds closer to the depths. This is why all rulers desire firedew—firedew is power. The more of it there is, the deeper the world is, and the stronger the people of the world will become.”

It was easy to imagine what happened next.

“This is why war occurs frequently across the Sacred Silverwater Sea. It is common for entire miniature worlds to be irreversibly damaged as a result of these conflicts. There have even been cases where both sides in a war were completely exterminated. The academic alliance of Pablohetra was formed by the chief gods of each world to stop these conflicts from getting out of hand to begin with.”

Ottolulu then wrote “Silverwater Ranking Skirmish.”

“All firedew released in Pablohetra’s territorial waters is collected by the academic alliance. It is then distributed based on the results of the ranking contest held internally within Pablohetra—the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish.”

If the wars over firedew intensified to the point of entire worlds being destroyed, no one would benefit. They could avoid all-out annihilation over firedew by forming a treaty and dividing the firedew peacefully through the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish. It was essentially a war by proxy—exactly as Loncruz had mentioned.

“Pablohetra was founded on the principle of lull. In other words, the peace of the Sacred Silverwater Sea.”

Peace, hmm? It’d be great if that were true.

“When ephemeral worlds lose their firedew, all the lives of their world are lost too. So any residents meant for reincarnation within that world end up born in other worlds, correct?”

“That is true, Ruler Anos,” Ottolulu replied in an indifferent tone.

“Why don’t you just give the firedew back? Those people don’t have to reincarnate elsewhere; they have their own lives to live.”

“What do you mean? Their lives ended with their deaths, and so their new lives begin in other worlds. By then, they are entirely different people who just happen to have the same origins.”

“What happens if you use Syrica magic?”

Ottolulu looked confused. “I’m sorry, I do not know of that magic. It is not a spell that exists amongst the academic alliance.”

Syrica didn’t exist? The magic the Two-Law Usurper—or rather, Loncruz—had used was clearly superior to the magic of our world. Although Syrica was the highest grade of source magic in our world, they should have at least heard of reincarnation magic before.

“This is the spell formula,” I said, drawing the magic circle for Syrica—when it promptly exploded in the air. “Oh?”

“Judging from the reaction of your drawing the spell formula just now, Syrica is restricted magic—a spell that can only exist by using the order of your specific world. It cannot be cast outside of Militia’s World, Ruler Anos.”

I see. Loncruz had asked me if reincarnation was normal in my world. He had also said that Radoplica wouldn’t erase memories, unlike regular reincarnation magic.

“What happens to one’s memories in the reincarnation process?” I asked.

“There are several means of retaining them, but all pose a high risk to the source. Simply continuing your current life does not count as a true reincarnation.”

So basically as they understood it, there was no way of reincarnating while also inheriting one’s memories without risk. That was why reincarnation in the Sacred Silverwater Sea meant beginning an entirely new, separate life than the one lived before. It was a fundamentally different way of thinking about reincarnation than from how people in our world thought of it.

“Returning the firedew to the ephemeral worlds would be a foolish act of erasing life. All the bubbles are destined to vanish someday. Throwing life back at them would be like moving a fish that had just reached the sea back to the land. It may be different from the teachings of your world, but this is the way of the silver seas,” Ottolulu said gently. She wasn’t denying my values, just explaining how different they were to what the people here thought. “It is considered good fortune for life to cross worlds through firedew, as it is proof they have been blessed by the sea.”

If most ephemeral worlds were doomed to perish, then it made sense for them to think that way.

“What if the ephemeral worlds could avoid their doom if you just returned their firedew?” I pointed out.

“That’s—”

“What more is there to go on about? Empty-headed ruler. This is why the shallows are so worthless,” a somewhat familiar voice rudely interrupted. It was the Immovable King Kaltinas, if I recalled correctly. He was the one who had bumped into the Demon King Express last night.

“There’s no point in explaining things to this dimwit, Ottolulu. He won’t fulfill the conditions for joining the alliance anyway. It’s a waste of time.”

A short man with a mustache stepped up onto the teacher’s podium. On his fancy clothes was an insignia of foam and ripples, and a school insignia of a castle.

“We are Kaltinas Ilbena, Immovable King and Ruler of the Silvercastle World Balandias. We will be in charge of the lecture today. You dimwits with little magic and brains should shut your mouths and listen carefully, for that is the etiquette of the silver seas.”

“What were you saying, Ottolulu?” I asked.

“You!” Kaltinas raged, glaring at me with a red face. He pointed at me menacingly. “You may be a ruler, but do not make the mistake of considering us equals. We are the Immovable King that governs a world on the twenty-first level. You, who have just arrived at Pablohetra, are clearly a resident from the shallows. What level are you from? Go on, let’s hear it.”

“Your world may be a little heavier than the others, but I see it hasn’t stopped your head from being light enough to float away,” I replied.

He turned even redder before pausing to think, then smirked. “Aha. You don’t even know what level your world’s from, do you? How pitiful. The investigation should be done by now, right? Tell him, Ottolulu.”

“The firedew volume of Militia’s World was measured this morning,” Ottolulu replied.

She sure worked fast. We had only just arrived last night.

“However, the judgment is currently on hold due to an impossible value. Based on the current results, Militia’s World has been temporarily assigned a level of zero. Unlikely as it is, there is a possibility the world is unevolved.”

At her words, the students who hadn’t paid us any attention to the lecture until now all stirred at once.

“What does that mean?” one student asked.

“The value was too low to be measured? Impossible,” another said.

“That’s far too little firedew...”

“But how did they get all the way here then? Unevolved worlds can’t reach the silver seas. They must have had some firedew.”

“They didn’t even have enough firedew to be considered first-level. How could they have evolved like that? They should have perished...”

Just then, their murmurs were drowned out by a loud, hearty laugh.

“Level zero?! Ha ha ha! Wa ha ha ha!” Kaltinas clutched his stomach, face twisted in a sneer. “What even is that? We’ve been with Pablohetra for quite some time, and we’ve never heard of such a thing. A zero-level world may as well be considered an ephemeral world! The chief god who chose you must be terribly superficial for there to be a possibility of being unevolved.”

“I won’t deny their flaws, but I don’t recall them ever choosing me. They kept forcing their pointless order on me, so I dismantled them into a more useful tool,” I replied.

“You weren’t chosen? What nonsense are you on about?”

“It’s only nonsense by your standards—but if I were to put it in a way you would understand, I’m a misfit.”

Kaltinas blinked in surprise. His face then warped in another sneer. “First, you weren’t chosen by the chief god, and now you’re a misfit?! Wa ha ha! Did you all hear that? This one’s truly a fine piece of work!”

He addressed the other students in the auditorium with a dramatic wave.

“A misfit as a ruler is absolutely unprecedented! We can’t believe it—we have actually lived to see the day an absolutely worthless world arrives at Pablohetra!”

The other students looked at me skeptically, like they were observing an animal so rare its very existence was a point of contention. The rulers in the room began to chat among themselves.

“The Immovable King has a point. Misfits were never even born in our worlds.”

“That’s the name of the people who defy order, right? If so, our chief god has destroyed dozens of them before.”

“Does that mean the chief god of Militia’s World is so weak it has to obey the misfit?”

“Our world had a lot of misfits, but I killed all of them with my own hands. Just a bunch of eccentrics that had the gall to try to stand before our chief god. They were no match for us purists.”

The rulers were all saying similar things.

Kaltinas laughed again. “Well? Do you get it yet? All the rulers here have snapped the necks of countless misfits like you. Of course, we have as well.” He gave me a threatening smirk and released his magic power. The entire auditorium shook from the force of it. “You have three seconds to bow at our feet. That is the proper etiquette you should show to a ruler of the depths.”

“Hmm. I’m not used to things like this, but if it’s the etiquette of the silver seas, then it can’t be helped.”

I got to my feet calmly.

Kaltinas smiled, appeased, their anger gradually subsiding. “Hmph. That’s more like it. A mere misfit shouldn’t be so full of himself. We hope you’ve learned your lesson— Gwoh!”

The shoe I had kicked off my foot soared across the room and landed in his mouth.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Hurry up and bow, lowlife. Dimwits with little magic and even less brains should shut their mouths and listen carefully, no?”

His hair rose on end in anger.

§ 23. Inviolable Waters

“What—”

A crunching noise echoed throughout the auditorium.

“What shallow—”

The shoe in Kaltinas’s mouth was crushed between his teeth. Pieces of shoe fell onto the podium floor.

“What a shallow and insolent ruler! Do you know what will happen to you and your world if you defy us?!”

“Bwa ha ha ha!” Eldmed burst out laughing at the Immovable King’s rage. “Stale, cliché, and mediocre. Are you perhaps an incarnation of antique mold? Your stock phrases are older than a weathered fossil—by the time I was born, I’d already heard them a million times. Our ruler claims your head is light enough to float away, but from where I’m standing, it seems more like your head’s sunk so low that your brain’s lacking oxygen.”

Kaltinas’s raised hair bristled even further at Eldmed’s taunts. He snarled, baring his fangs— Oh, so he was a demon. His hair was just differently colored to the demons’ of Militia’s World.

“Have you left your subjects completely undisciplined?!” Kaltinas spat at me. “We have shown you the mercy of allowing you to lower your head in remorse, yet you return favor with spite! You’re all arrogant and insolent, each and every one of you! There will be no second chances from here, do you realize that?”

“Is that all you have to say? Tremble in fear, excitement, and delight, Immovable King Kaltinas.” Eldmed grinned, adding fuel to the fire. He spread his arms dramatically. “For you will be the first person in the Sacred Silverwater Sea to experience the devastation of the Demon King of Tyranny!”

I expected the Immovable King to show even more anger, but for some reason, he just looked confused.

“Demon King...?” he asked, looking at me with a mocking smile. “Surely you’re not saying that this man—your ruler—calls himself a Demon King.”

“So what if I do?” I asked.

Kaltinas burst into laughter.

“Wa ha ha ha ha ha! A misfit from an ephemeral world, proclaiming himself a Demon King! The pinnacle of ignorance is indeed pure comedy. Oh, how nice it must be to feel no fear!”

He clutched his stomach and laughed so hard, he was about to topple over. The other students were also snickering among themselves and shaking their heads in mirth.

That being said, this was taking a while. I had replaced my shoe and he was still laughing.

“Are you trying to laugh yourself to death?” I asked.

“Wa ha ha! Apologies. You’re just so comical to us, you see. Well, we suppose that can’t be helped, coming from an ephemeral world and all. Pfft...ha ha...”

He clearly had no intention of explaining himself. I looked over at Ottolulu.

“‘Demon King’ is a title that gathers great reverence across the Sacred Silverwater Sea,” she explained in a businesslike tone. “The Great Demon King Zinia Shivaheld is the supreme master of sorcery, the first to reach the abyss of magic in the silver seas, and the ruler of twelve deep-level worlds. Demon King is also the title given to the six candidates eligible to be his successor.”

That explained why Ottolulu and the gatekeepers had reacted to the name of the Demon King Academy the way they did.

“There are many deep-level worlds who haven’t joined Pablohetra because they prefer conflict. But even those savage rulers avoid the territory of the Demon Kings. There are several ‘Inviolable Waters’ in the seas that must never be touched, and the Demon Kings are one of them.”

When Ottolulu finished her explanation, Kaltinas had finished laughing and was grinning with sadistic glee.

“Get it now? A misfit from an ephemeral world claiming to be a Demon King is as good as declaring war on all twelve worlds ruled by the Great Demon King,” he said triumphantly. “Wa ha ha! Scared now, aren’t you? That’s only natural. We’re telling you this for your own good. Now that you’ve reached the Sacred Silverwater Sea, rename yourself. Why don’t we give you a new name worthy of you, hmm? Let’s see.”

He made a show of crossing his arms in thought.

“The Foolish King. How about that? The Foolish King Anos! Wa ha ha! It’s perfect!”

“Your subjects must be extremely talented,” I said. He gave me a questioning look. “It must be such a trial to serve under a ruler like you.”

“What did you just say?!”

His hair stood on end once again in anger.

“Renaming myself for such a silly reason is too much of a bother. If this Great Demon King Zinia contacts me over my use of the title, so be it. I’d love to see what abyss magic looks like anyway,” I said.

The Immovable King scoffed. “Arrogant to the end, aren’t you? We’ll see how long that attitude lasts. We’ve seen countless newbies like you, and in the end, they all end up begging for forgiveness.”

“Hmm. That’s interesting. How so?”

Kaltinas glared at me. “Stop talking back. It’s custom in Pablohetra to resolve conflict through the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish. We won’t let you get away with such cheek.”

“Very well. Challenge away.”

“Hmph,” he snorted. “Ottolulu, arbitrate.”

“Pablohetra Academy Treaty, Article 3: All conflict between academies shall be resolved through the results of the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish. The victor’s claims are recognized and the loser’s claims are discarded,” the Arbitration Goddess said in a flat tone, before releasing her magic power. “Jizett.”

A magic circle was drawn, one with a keyhole in the center. Ottolulu stuck her windup key into the hole and turned it. The spell formula was formed with every turn of the key, completing the Jizett circle on the third turn.

“With the signature of the two involved parties, the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish pact will be formed,” she said, turning to me. “Ruler Anos. You are still learning about both Pablohetra and the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish. You will have one day to sign the pact—”

She cut off. Kaltinas had grabbed the Arbitration Goddess by the neck, choking her.

“Don’t step out of line, Ottolulu. Giving advice is beyond the duties of the Arbitration Goddess.”

“I am merely explaining the order of Pablohetra—”

Kaltinas squeezed her throat further.

“Urk...”

“Speak any more and we’ll crush your throat.”

The next moment, Ottolulu turned into mist and vanished.

“Hah?”

Kaltinas’s fist clenched around thin air. He looked around the lecture hall, his Magic Eyes glinting rapidly. A short distance away from the podium, Ottolulu reappeared with Misa, who had used Fuska. I appeared beside them.

“Laying your hands on an arbitrator? You really are a lowlife,” I said.

“And you’re an ignorant fool. Very well. Learn all you want about Pablohetra. By the time you’re done, you’ll be without the will to fight us anymore—”

Kaltinas’s eyes widened. I had just signed the Jizett.

“I don’t need knowledge to take you down a peg.”

He gave me a vulgar smirk—as though this was exactly the outcome that he had wanted.

“You will regret this,” he said, signing the Jizett.

“Both parties have signed,” Ottolulu said. “Pablohetra’s Arbitration Goddess Ottolulu declares the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish between Demon King Academy and Tigrisfort Academy. The battle will commence tomorrow, at the start of the school day. The location will be the free waters of the Second Balandias World.”

Second Balandias must have been the miniature world Kaltinas owned.

“The ignorant are the first to vanish from the silver seas. Just know that if you’re going to hate anyone for what will happen, hate yourself. As the ruler of two worlds, we cannot show mercy,” he said smugly. “The lecture will now commence.”

I turned and walked away from the podium with Misa. On our way back to our seats, I could hear the voices of the other academies’ students.

“Shameless as always, isn’t he? Dragging a brand-new student into a Silverwater Ranking Skirmish right away...”

“He’s from the depths, yet he maintains a low rank so he can keep challenging lower-ranked schools.”

“Don’t underestimate the power of the Balandias Fleet. While the ruler himself isn’t anything special, his two-star fighters certainly are. A misfit from an ephemeral world doesn’t stand a chance.”

“They call him a paper tiger, all bark and no bite, but Kaltinas is cunning. The other ruler has no information on his enemy and no knowledge of Pablohetra whatsoever. Just all appearance and no substance. He has no chance of winning.”

“If he had been prudent enough to bow his head when he was told to, I would’ve helped him out. He has pride, I’ll give him that, but he won’t survive long with that kind of ignorant bravado.”

The ones who were whispering appeared to be rulers. From their murmurings, it seemed the Immovable King had a habit of picking on newcomers.

“You got into a fight the moment we got here...” Sasha grumbled as soon as I returned to my seat. Misha blinked beside her. “The deep-level worlds are much closer to the abyss than our world, right? We only have a day to prepare. What are we gonna do?”

“C’mon Sasha. Did you really want to see me lower my head to him?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said curtly. Despite her initial grumbling, she hadn’t asked for anything other than my plans on winning. Shin, Eldmed, Lay, Eleonore, Arcana, and Misha too—none of my followers were daunted by the Immovable King, this ruler of a deep-level world. Even the weaker students of our school were practically trembling with excitement.

“He’ll pay for insulting our Demon King.”

§ 24. The Man with the Castle Sword

Our first lecture at the Silverwater Academy Pablohetra involved the Immovable King Kaltinas standing on the teacher’s podium drawing magic runes. The runes were displayed on the spherical blackboard in three dimensions, allowing them to be seen from any seat in the auditorium.

“Thus are the hieroglyphic runes used in the Silvercastle World Balandias. The way of writing these hieroglyphs are very specific, as the runes themselves possess magic power. Powerful casters can construct a castle with a single rune, while ordinary casters can write thousands without raising even a hut.”

Kaltinas wrote several kinds of hieroglyphical runes: runes that looked like birds, water, a castle. As hieroglyphs, they were closer to illustrations than letters, and they held more magic power in themselves than what the caster put into writing them. I gazed at them with my Magic Eyes.

“Hmm. Where does the magic power flow from?” I asked.

“From Balandias,” Ottolulu answered behind me. “Magic flows from the shallows to the depths. The Seventh Elenesia World is located deeper than Balandias. Thus, order from Balandias is effective here. Magic laws are included in this.”

Ottolulu told us that Militia World was located on a provisional level zero. Since there were no worlds before us, only the order of our world existed. But the deeper the world was located, the more orders and magic laws were mixed within that world. The world at the bottom, then, had to be utter chaos.

“Can magic of the deep-level worlds be used in shallower worlds?” Misha asked, tilting her head in question.

“It depends on how similar their orders are, and the restrictions of the specific spell involved,” Ottolulu replied. “The existence of magic like Zecht, Fless, Gatom, and so on has been confirmed in most miniature worlds and can be used with little disparity. They are called universal magic.”

There were magic laws that commonly existed across all miniature worlds. Spells that used those laws could be cast without any problems.

“Deep magic that can only be used with the order of a deep-level world cannot be used in a shallow-level world. However, this rule is not absolute. There is a method to use deep magic in a shallow-level world called an upstream spell formula.”

“A way to reverse the deep-level world’s magic law to flow towards the shallows, I’m guessing?” I said.

“Yes. Magic that incorporates an upstream formula can be used in the shallows too.”

That was pretty much as I expected, though I still had other questions about this.

“But do understand, misfit, that upstream formulas are not so simple,” Kaltinas interrupted, having heard our conversation. “Upstream formulas involve reversing the order that makes magic flow from the shallows to the depths. Of course, in terms of the general miniature world, such a feat is impossible. Order can only be reversed when spellcasting, but even a ruler chosen by a chief god would struggle to accomplish this. Changing the flow of the vast Sacred Silverwater Sea is akin to casting greater magic!”

Kaltinas drew a complex magic formula on the spherical blackboard.

“This is Balandialtar, the highest grade of castle construction magic from our world. The spell creates an indestructible castle that will remain standing even after the world perishes. And it comes with an upstream formula to be used in shallow worlds,” the Immovable King said proudly. “The only chance of victory an ephemeral world would have against a twenty-first level world is to learn the deep magic of a twenty-second level world or lower—and use their upstream formula.”

“Oh? I didn’t think you were the type to give advice to his enemies,” I said.

Kaltinas snorted. “You haven’t officially joined the alliance, so you may not be aware of this yet, but the Pablohetra Academy Treaty states that all lectures must be conducted with honesty and sincerity. Why else would we be standing here giving information to the likes of you?”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I replied just as an unfamiliar chime rang.

“Thus concludes our lecture. At any rate, you won’t be able to use upstream formulas in time for our battle. Even a genius spellcaster would need a month to learn deep magic from scratch. Whether a misfit can reach there with an entire lifetime to learn remains to be seen.”

The Immovable King grinned at me mockingly before leaving the auditorium.

“Ruler Anos,” Ottolulu said. “There is still some time until the next lecture. I shall show you around Pablohetra.”

We followed her out of the auditorium.

“I shall explain to you how the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish works and the conditions for officially joining the alliance,” the Arbitration Goddess said as she walked us through the palace. “The Silverwater Ranking Skirmish is a mock battle held in free waters—a contest over firedew. The firedew retrieved by Pablohetra is distributed to both schools, with the goal being to steal the other school’s firedew. The match is decided by one of three conditions: stealing all of the enemy’s firedew, knocking out or exterminating the enemy’s army, or a declaration of surrender by the enemy chief god and ruler. There are no rules on killing.”

“Huh? Isn’t that more of a real war than a mock battle?” Eleonore asked cheerfully.

“No. True war would risk the extermination of an entire silver bubble. It is not the gods or the people that Pablohetra is trying to protect, but firedew. That is the core principle the alliance was founded on.”

“Are there no rules against decapitating chief gods?” Shin muttered quietly.

“None at all. If a chief god perishes in a Silverwater Ranking Skirmish, their miniature world becomes incapable of maintaining their firedew, which flows out into the silver seas. The right of retrieving that firedew goes to the school that defeated them. In short, the ownership of firedew shifts.”

The Jizett I signed had stated something similar.

“Wait, so if we take out their chief god, everything in their world will belong to us?” Eleonore asked.

“That’s right. It will be up to you whether you make the Silvercastle World Balandias into the Second Militia World or take the firedew into Militia’s World and aim for the deeper levels. It is the victor’s choice.”

“Are there any other options besides colonizing the world or stealing the firedew?” I asked.

“As long as the total amount of firedew is consistent, you may do whatever you wish. For example, you could take half of the firedew and place it into the First Militia World, leaving the remaining in Balandias as the Second Militia World. If you have difficulty performing such a split, I can assist you.”

“Are there any benefits to turning a miniature world into a colony?” Eldmed asked.

“In Pablohetra, it gives you an advantage when rising through the ranks. The school with more silverfoam in their possession has the right to hold a skirmish in their free waters. It is why the Second Balandias World was chosen as the stage for your skirmish.”

In other words, the more worlds one held under their control the more likely they were to advantage themselves in future skirmishes by fighting in one’s home grounds.

“But regardless of the rules and methods of the Silverwater Academy, having more silverfoam is appealing to a ruler. There will be another lecture that explains this further.”

There were probably rulers out there who just wanted to increase their territory. Taking another whole miniature world wouldn’t change the depth of Militia’s World, but it would allow Militia’s order to affect other worlds.

On the other hand, taking the firedew of another world for our own would deepen Militia’s World and bring it closer to the depths. But destroying the chief god of a world meant destroying everything with it—although most would surrender before that ever happened. The main purpose of the battle was, after all, to obtain firedew.

“Take this.” Ottolulu drew a magic circle. Light surrounded our uniforms before fading to reveal the insignia of ripples and foam on our chests. “This is Pablohetra’s school insignia. However, this mark you see now only indicates provisional enrollment. Full students of Pablohetra have their own school insignia too.”

“I see. So you can’t participate in the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish without this,” I said.

“Yes. If you take as many insignia from the enemy army as there are students in your school, you will be formally permitted to join the academic alliance.”

That made sense.

“Provisional insignia can be exchanged for real insignia, allowing schools to increase their number of students and gain an advantage in the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish. The enemy army will be after your insignia. Protect it with your lives.”

If our priority was in joining the alliance it would be best to use the firedew as bait and go after the insignias.

“Student registration is yet to be completed. You may still adjust your numbers. If you do, please return any additional provisional insignia.”

Using a small number of elite fighters meant there would be fewer insignias we would need to take in a skirmish. But everyone had come this far already—having a majority of them simply spectate would hold little educational value.

“We’ll proceed like this,” I replied.

“Understood.”

Mom and dad had also been given insignia, but oh well. We could just grab an extra two for them.

“Regarding what we were discussing earlier,” Ottolulu said as we walked, “firedew cannot be returned to ephemeral worlds due to their lack of silverlight. Ephemeral worlds cannot be viewed from the outside in, and are so unstable that forcing entry could eliminate their chance of evolution entirely.”

“Just entering is enough to destroy them?” I asked.

“In some cases, yes. Above all, the returned firedew would just leave the ephemeral world again. It would be like adding water to a leaking bucket—not only is it inefficient, but firedew could even be lost in the process.”

It was a reasonable argument.

“Just seal the hole in the bucket then,” I said.

“That would be a good idea, if it were possible.”

We left the palace and arrived at a garden. As one would expect of a palace garden, it was well maintained. Here and there were students with the Pablohetra insignia on their uniforms. As far as I could see, everyone was relaxed, whether they were studying for classes, tending to their weapons, or constructing magic circles.

“Do you know anything about Atzenon’s Lions of Ruin?” I asked.

“That would be the Ruinous Abyss World Evezeino’s Institute of Mythical Beasts. The top mythical beasts are called ‘Atzenon’s Lions of Ruin.’ The Holy Sword World Hyphoria and the Ruinous Abyss World Evezeino have been enemies for a long time. Neither of them were on particularly good terms with Pablohetra either, but they have both just joined the alliance.”

“How recently?”

“One week ago. Evezeino was a deep-level world to begin with, and in very little time rose through the ranks in a series of skirmishes to claim the lowest seat of the Holy Six Academies.”

I looked around the garden while following behind Ottolulu. “And they are?”

“The six highest-ranked academies of Pablohetra, also known as the Holy Six. The highest ranked at number one is presently the Magic Bullet World Elenesia, which is why Pablohetra is currently located in the Seventh Elenesia World. Holding the second highest rank is the Holy Sword World Hyphoria. There is a large gap from rank two to rank three that no world has been able to close, but while Evezeino’s rank is still low for now, they have the potential to climb higher.”

So the visitors to Militia’s World came from rather famous schools.

“Hyphoria must not like that,” I commented.

“As long as all conflicts are settled through the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish in accordance with the treaty, Pablohetra is welcome to all.”

The academic alliance was no more than a conglomerate of individual miniature worlds linked together for mutual benefit. It was hard to imagine that a world such as Evezeino would ever willingly surrender themselves to their enemies. Of course, the same applied to us.

“Are there any opportunities to speak to the Holy Six?”

“It would be considered impolite for residents of the shallows to call out to them. It’s customary to wait to be addressed first. The other option is to climb the ranks such that your world is ranked within the top ten—you will naturally get a chance then.”

“In that case—”

In the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a stack of cube-shaped stones.

Next to them was a man holding a sword in one hand, using the other to make rocks hover in the air as he sliced them into cubes. The sword he was using was oddly shaped, with a jagged blade reminiscent of a saw. Each rock he sliced into a stone cube was exactly equal not only in size, but in magic power. He was probably adjusting the magic in each stone as he carved it, but that was no easy task. Yet as he carved stone after stone with fluid swipes of his blade, he made it look as simple as breathing.

Was he making construction materials? It was likely they were some kind of component needed for his work, but the man swung his saw blade with the pure joy of a child at play.

His uniform was a loose, knee-length jacket with wide sleeves in a bold shade of ultramarine. The insignia on his shoulder was a castle—he was from the Silvercastle World Balandias, just like the Immovable King Kaltinas. His glittering blond hair was gathered up in an artistic pompadour.

“Never seen a castle sword before?” the man asked without turning, having clearly noticed my gaze. He paused mid-swing to turn around. “This is a type of demon sword that combines a saw with a sword, used for combat and construction simultaneously in the Silvercastle World Balandias—”

He took a look at my face, then my magic power, and fell speechless.

A long, long silence passed.

“Your Majesty...” he eventually breathed.

There was no mistaking it. The man was Farris Noin, the creation magic master who, two thousand years ago, had perished in the sky of destruction.

§ 25. The Two Stars of Balandias

“Fancy meeting you here,” I said. “I thought the fortress I saw earlier seemed familiar.”

The signs were there. No matter how vast the silver seas were, I couldn’t imagine anyone else capable of creating Zeridheavens. It was a ship without being a ship, and a castle without being a castle—in other words, the soul of the artist Farris Noin.

“Are your memories intact?” I asked.

He nodded with a gentle expression. “Once Syrica has been used, its radiance never fades. Not even in the seas outside the world.”

Syrica was restricted magic that only existed in Militia’s World. But it seemed that as long as it had been cast, the spell remained effective even if the source flowed to a different world entirely. Militia’s World was on level zero—the shallowest possible world—meaning its order and magic laws applied to all miniature worlds below it in deeper levels. Syrica’s activation was restricted, but as long as the magic laws were there, it remained effective during rebirth.

“Living among those who don’t believe in reincarnation couldn’t have been easy. You must have suffered,” I said.

“Enough to tell everyone it was my past history instead of my past life.”

As Militia’s World had been an ephemeral world, there was no way of proving it existed. In worlds where Syrica didn’t exist the idea of reincarnation must have sounded like complete nonsense.

“But to reminisce in solitude was just another form of beauty,” he continued.

I laughed in spite of myself. “You haven’t changed.”

“Neither have you, Your Majesty,” Farris said, then immediately shook his head. “No. You’ve become even stronger.”

“As have you.”

Just by facing him like this, I could tell he had more powerful magic hidden within him. That was only natural—he had reincarnated in a deep-level world.

“Oh, that’s right. Sasha,” I said, calling her over. She had awkwardly hidden behind Misha while Farris and I spoke and at my call nervously stepped forwards. “Do you remember her?” I asked Farris. “She’s the feral child who burned your Zeridheavens to a crisp.”

“Hey! What kind of introduction is that?! I didn’t burn it because I wanted to!” she objected with a hiss.

“Your Sun of Destruction was a sinister force, terrifying yet captivating. There was beauty to it, however fleeting,” Farris said.

“Ah, um... Thank you... I’m sorry for burning your ship.”

Farris chuckled, smiling brightly. He understood what it meant for me to have Sasha by my side like this. “Your Majesty. Your aspiration has come true, has it not?”

“You should come see it for yourself—see Dilhade after the Great War. In fact, you can just come back to us. Working for someone like him must be suffocating.”

For a brief moment, a shadow fell over Farris’s face.

“Isn’t that rather rude?” a sharp voice said.

A man in the same uniform as Farris came walking over, a demon with short hair and a muscular body. There was a single sword by his waist that was the same shape as Farris’s—a castle sword, he had called it.

“Lord Kaltinas is the official ruler of Balandias,” the man said. “Is it the Militia way to slander others so shamelessly before meeting in the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish?”

“Hmm. And who are you?” I asked.

“Allow me to introduce myself. Family name Epala, first name Zaimon. Top student of the Tigrisfort Academy, bestowed with the role of Fearless Fortslasher by our chief god, the Royal Tiger Maytilen.”

Top student, huh? He had to be one of the top two in Balandias.

“If you were on board Zeridheavens back then, you should know that your ruler started it,” I replied.

“It’s common practice for the shallows to make way for the depths as they pass. You flagrantly neglected to do so,” Zaimon said in a deeply critical tone.

I smiled at him. “If I’d known that was the etiquette, I would have struck back, actually.”

Zaimon frowned. “The Immovable King’s Sky Fortress Zeridheavens is the fastest and sturdiest castle in the silver seas. A train from a shallow-level world wouldn’t even put a scratch on it.”

“No matter how far the wings of Zeridheavens can extend, as long as it’s used to parade around clowns, there will be plenty of opportunities to strike,” I replied.

Zaimon’s cutting glare burned with fury. “You take that back. I will not tolerate insults towards Balandias.”

“Tell that to your master. That’s your duty as a subordinate, no?”

Unable to hold back his anger any longer, Zaimon took a step forwards and in the same movement swiftly drew his sword. At the same time, Shin stepped in front of me and drew his demon sword from a magic circle. The saw blade clashed with the Ruinflow Sword Altocorasta.

“Zaimon, that is not beautiful,” Farris said. “Conflicts between academies must be resolved through the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish.”

He gestured at Ottolulu, reminding Zaimon that the Arbitration Goddess was watching.

“Please lower your sword. No matter what the customs of the Sacred Silverwater Sea are, as people, we must maintain our manners,” Farris then pleaded.

Zaimon glanced at him without moving.

“This man is the lord I served before I left on my journey as a wanderer. Consider it a favor to me,” Farris added.

Zaimon looked back at Shin, then lowered his sword.

“It means nothing to cut down a mere ephemeral world here and now, but since it’s a request from you... There’s no helping it. You will pay for insulting Balandias at the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish.” He pointed his castle sword at Shin. “And you. Are you an aide of the ruler? If you intend on crossing swords with the Fearless Fortslasher tomorrow, you’d best bring a better sword.”

With that, Zaimon finally sheathed his sword. As soon as he did so, the Ruinflow Sword in Shin’s hand snapped cleanly into two. Their single exchange of blows earlier had cracked it.

“If Farris hadn’t stopped me, your ruler’s head would have gone flying.” Zaimon turned around, showing us his back. To Farris, he said, “Make sure you draw the line clearly.”

“I know,” Farris replied. He looked at me apologetically for a moment. “The Immovable King Kaltinas noticed my talent when I was living quietly in a remote village. Our chief god, the Royal Tiger Maytilen, bestowed upon me the most honorable role in Balandias—the Silvercastle Creator. Together with Zaimon, we are now known as the two stars of the Tigrisfort Academy.”

Two stars, huh? The other students at the lecture had mentioned that earlier. Looked like no matter what world he was born in, Farris was a talented man.

“I’m sorry. I can no longer return to Dilhade,” Farris said. “The Immovable King has his faults, and is a far cry from beautiful, but I remain his subordinate. On his behalf do I apologize.”

“Hey! Why do you always have to be like that, Farris?” Zaimon complained.

But Farris paid him no mind. “But I must tell you that I am now a castle demon of Balandias. I was born and raised there. I have a hometown and comrades, and Zaimon is one of them. My brothers-in-arms await my return. The Immovable King has many enemies, and as his subordinate, I must keep always seeing eyes.”

Indeed, if that man was left to his devices there’d be no telling what would happen to Balandias. It would be best for someone to be nearby, holding his reins.

“Did you hear that, ephemeral world ruler?” Zaimon snapped. “My comrade has told me about his time wandering through another miniature world. But know that he was originally a resident of Balandias. Don’t try and leverage your former position to take advantage of his kind heart. As you just heard, he has clearly chosen Lord Kaltinas. Our lord has a far more illustrious and grand reputation than you. There’s no reason for Farris to go to an ephemeral world!”

It seemed the top student of the Tigrisfort Academy held Farris in high regard. I couldn’t imagine Kaltinas having a good reputation like he claimed, but if a world could deepen just by obtaining firedew, there might be something the residents had to gain from him regardless. It was possible he was a ruler that was hated by his enemies and loved by his people.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty...”

“What are you apologizing for?” I said. “As long as you’re following your heart, living freely in this sea, I have no objections. Though you have my pity for babysitting such a king.”

Farris bowed his head in silence before turning to walk away.

“Did you finish painting?” I asked.

He paused.

“The promised painting of peace,” I added.

“My brush has been broken,” he said slowly, looking at me over his shoulder. “I cannot paint anymore. Paintings cannot save anyone. I am not an artist, but the Silvercastle Creator of Balandias. I’ve discarded my brush and have taken up a castle sword. My current goal is to construct castles.”

“What kind of castle?”

“A strong castle. One that won’t fall to anyone or anything. I want to construct a strong and sublime castle in that world—even if it isn’t beautiful.”

He stared at me with a look I had never seen before—the look of a warrior.

“It may come as a surprise to you, but I have my own ambitions as well. Balandias taught me that,” Farris said in a soft but determined tone. “Your Majesty. I will never forget the days I served you. Meager as my abilities may be, I’ve led Balandias this far because I aimed for the Dilhade governed by the great Demon King. There is only one way I can repay you—and that is by showing you how much closer I’ve gotten to you at the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish tomorrow.”

“Very well. I’ll allow it. Come at me with all you’ve got.”

Farris bowed his head politely.

“I rather feel like I returned to the past just now,” he said pointedly, looking at the stack of stone cubes.

Zaimon, who had been watching in the distance, hurried back over to him. “What are you doing, Farris? We’re going back to the castle.”

“I was thinking of cleaning up the stones.”

“Leave such menial tasks for the others. Doing this out in the open affects Balandias’s reputation in front of the other schools. You’re our Silvercastle Creator.” Zaimon patted Farris on the shoulder, urging him to move.

“If it’s a matter of reputation, shouldn’t you be giving your Immovable King words of advice too?” Farris pointed out.

“You sure don’t hold back. But at the same time, you are far too courteous to those who are below you—the silver seas will take everything from you like that.”

“I’m not worried. I have reliable comrades.”

Zaimon fell silent for a moment. “You could take the top student position from me at any time, you know.”

“Such a position does not suit me.”

“You just voiced your ambitions. I heard it.”

“Supporting others can also be an ambition.”

“Enough. Let’s go. The Silverwater Ranking Skirmish is tomorrow.”

The two left the garden.

“Is it okay to let them go?” Sasha asked me.

“Everyone is allowed to have a change of heart. If he has somewhere he wants to be, so be it.”

“Anos,” Misha said. She called me over to the spot where Farris had been carving stones earlier. “Look. Something was drawn here.”

She pointed at the ground with a dainty finger, where scratch marks had been left.

“Hmm. I don’t know how far back I can rewind in this miniature world, but I’ll give it a go,” I said.

I used Rivide on the ground. The scratch marks faded, revealing lines that were carved into the ground with a stick.

“What’s that?” Sasha asked, peering over Misha’s shoulder. To her, they probably seemed to be just a series of straight lines. Half of it was still scratched out too.

“I can’t rewind it any further, but it was probably this.”

I picked up a nearby stick and completed the lines. The resulting image was a branch with no leaves—an abstract picture. The trunk and branches split off endlessly.

“Huh? Isn’t this a fasima tree?” Sasha asked.

“It’s the Fasima Groves,” Shin answered. “That was all he drew two thousand years ago.”

I stared at the picture for a long moment.

“I guess a broken brush couldn’t stop him from doodling—”

The Fasima Groves absorbed toxins and purified air. Farris’s paintings of them had been wishes for the war that plagued the world to be purified into a peaceful era. He had drawn them constantly, all the while hoping for a day when he didn’t have to draw them anymore.

And yet he was still drawing them now, in the garden of Pablohetra, where there were no fasima trees to be seen.

“—but I’m more interested in the reason for his ambitions.” I looked over at Eldmed.

“Bwa ha ha. You can leave things here to me. Something smells interesting,” he said.

I nodded. “Shin, Misa, you come with me.”

“Understood.”

“Huh? Me too? Okay!”

The others resumed taking Ottolulu’s tour while Shin, Misa, and I snuck out after Farris.

§ 26. Five Framed Pictures

We kept our distance from Farris and Zaimon, using Lynel to turn invisible and Najira to hide our magic power as we followed them.

“Shouldn’t we get a little closer?” Misa asked through Leaks.

“Lynel and Najira are both weaker here than they are in Militia’s World. I tried to adjust the spell formula, but it resulted in a time limit.”

The Lynel and Najira I’d used while clinging to Baltzarond’s ship had naturally weakened because of that. The best way to prevent it from happening was casting it twice, but doing so would shorten the spell time more and more with subsequent castings. Eventually, the spell would end before activating.

It was more realistic to end the spell, wait three seconds, and use it again. For that, it was best that we kept some distance.

“There’s many people around. They shouldn’t be able to detect us at this distance. That is, unless they’re more skilled than I am.”

We put ourselves at over twice the range of Shin’s ability to detect them, just in case Zaimon had better detection senses.

“Is it even possible for anyone to have sharper senses than father?” Misa wondered in disbelief.

“This isn’t Militia’s World, so anything goes,” Shin replied with a shrewd look. “The weight of the air, the reverberation of footsteps, the sharpness of the wind—all of it is different. That includes how people can be detected. Unfortunately, as we’ve only lived on a shallow-level world until now, it’d be best to assume the other side has the advantage.”

Shin stopped walking. Seeing that, I stopped too.

“Is that Zaimon person stronger than you, father?”

“It takes more than a difference in sword to break the Ruinflow Sword in one blow. At the very least, he has more physical strength, speed, and magic than me right now. Even for a deep-world resident, he must be considered a powerful being.”

Those who lived in harsher environments naturally ended up becoming stronger. It only made sense for residents of deep-level worlds to have more magic than Shin.

“So they’re really strong...”

“Misa. The strongest is the one who remains standing until the end,” Shin replied to his daughter. “Let’s go.”

Zaimon and Farris had left the palace of Pablohetra, so Shin resumed walking. We walked down streets with unfamiliar buildings, being careful not to bump into any other people out and about.

Eventually, the two stopped before a gate. Beyond it was a garden, with a rustic castle in the distance. For a castle placed in the middle of a city, it was far too formal and imposing, more of a fort than a castle, an obelisk constructed to demarcate the front line of a warzone. Ottolulu had said that all schools had lodgings within the palace, yet it seemed the Tigrisfort Academy had chosen to build their castle outside the palace grounds.

“Stop. I’m going to end Lynel and Najira here,” I said, cutting off the spells.

Just then, as Zaimon was about to enter the gate, he paused. He turned around and scanned the surroundings with his Magic Eyes.

“Is something the matter?” Farris asked.

“I felt a strange fluctuation in magic.”

“That doesn’t sound beautiful.”

“It was probably just my imagination, but Balandias has many enemies. Stay on guard. You may be able to see something with your Eyes.”

“I will be careful.” Farris opened the iron fence of the gate. “Come to think of it, what did you think about Shin?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were trying to size him up from the start, no? You knew Balandias had nothing to gain from attacking the ruler of that world on the spot.”

Zaimon laughed.

“There’s no fooling your Eyes.” He walked through the gate. “For someone from the shallows, he was strong. I would still win against him in a duel, but he probably has a trick or two up his sleeves. If I were to face him, I’d have to take care to defeat him for good.”

“A typical judgment coming from you.”

“How would you fight him?” Zaimon asked.

Farris thought for a moment. “Like a cloud, like the wind, like the waves. His sword is like nature, so be careful not to be captivated by it.”

“Cryptic as ever. I’m asking how you would fight him.”

Zaimon and Farris entered the castle together.

“Phew... It worked out somehow,” Misa said, sighing from where she hid in the shadows.

I cast Lynel and Najira on us once again before walking up to the gate. I looked inside at the state of the castle.

“Hmm. Every inch of the grounds past the gate is being observed by Magic Eyes. Not even an ant can move here without being detected.”

It was excessively heavy security, but it was probably because of how many enemies Kaltinas had.

“What should we do? If there are Eyes watching the whole place, we’ll be spotted the moment the spell ends...”

“It just means I was right to bring you along.”

Misa tilted her head, then gasped in realization. “Were you thinking of spirit magic? Specifically Gennul’s.”

“Since there are Magic Eyes on the whole place, that would be perfect.”

She nodded and raised her hands over her head. Darkness wrapped around her entire body before she flicked it away with a wave of her hand. Unlike how this normally went, this time there was no lightning—she was probably trying to stay quiet. A spirit in a midnight black dress with six wings then appeared. She swept her long hair back elegantly and used Najira while drawing a magic circle over us.

“Titegenne.”

Two glittering feathers appeared over our chests, folded together. One was the feather of a fairy, and the other was the feather of the Wolf of Hiding.

“I fused the powers of Gennul and titi together. We should be able to pass through any tiny crack like this.”

It was a fusion of spirit magic with spirit magic. In essence, a simple version of Alha Alfrem.

“You’re becoming more similar to Reno.”

“Father. There’s a time and place for everything.”

Despite her words, Misa looked pleased.

“There’s no guarantee they’re relying on Magic Eyes alone to spot intruders. We’ll proceed with Titegenne as well as with my concealment magic,” I said.

Misa had the power to cast both as the fake Demon King, but it was safer to stick to a single role each.

“Let’s go.”

I took a step towards the gate. My body transformed into mist, passing through the iron bars. The moment we entered the range of their Magic Eyes, Gennul’s power activated, turning us into spirits of hiding that couldn’t be observed.

“It seems there’s a time limit on Titegenne too...” Misa mumbled.

“We shouldn’t stay for long then.”

We walked through the garden and stood before the doors of the castle. I gave Shin a look, and he nodded. He couldn’t sense anyone nearby.

Since we were on Balandias grounds, I couldn’t see well with my Eyes. We’d have no choice but to guess where we were going. We slipped through the crack in the front door of the castle and arrived at a large lobby. There was a staircase at the back leading up to a hall with various corridors leading in different directions.

“He went up,” I said.

“How can you tell?” Misa asked.

“He’s always liked the view from high places.”

We had no other clues hinting at where Farris might have gone. Instead of searching through every room, it was better to guess where he could have gone based on past information. We climbed the stairs and carefully aimed for the top floor. After walking for a while, we heard footsteps, indicating that there were at least a few people nearby. Their conversation became audible as they approached our position.

“Gather all the castle lords. A Silverwater Ranking Skirmish with the Demon King Academy of Militia’s World has been decided for tomorrow.”

“A miniature world with no nickname? Do they have any traits?”

“No clue. But according to Ottolulu’s investigations, they’re practically the same as an ephemeral world. The ruler’s name is Anos, and he’s a misfit. The others are probably all misfits too.”

Students in the Tigrisfort Academy uniform were coming down the stairs.

“A misfit from an ephemeral world? Well, that...sounds rather weak...”

“Annoyingly so.”

“While it’s become standard for us to only fight battles we know we’ll win, the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish is different from outright war. At the rate we’re going, people will start to call the castle lords of Balandias cowards, and we won’t even be able to deny it.”

Each of the castle demons launched their complaints, one after the other.

“There’s no telling when a threat may arrive from another world. The Immovable King may have no enemies in our current territorial waters, but he thinks of himself too highly. We should be using this time to hold more Silverwater Ranking Skirmishes with the depths, not with the shallows!”

“And there’s no point in trying to advise him. Our ruler climbed to his post through political machinations. He’d never make more work for himself.”

“A truly Immovable King.”

“Hey. Watch your words, or it’s your head that will fly—and everyone else in your family’s too.”

“I know you agree. We can only keep waiting for so long.”

“But you need to calm down! The wings we entrusted our hope to will definitely soar in Balandias’s skies. Have faith.”

Hmm. It seemed the Immovable King wasn’t a very good king. Those who stood above the rest were destined to be hated—even I was called a tyrant. But if his direct subordinates—those who fought and died on the battlefield for him—were thinking this, he wouldn’t last long.

The conversation shifted.

“How did the survey of the Enigmatic Woodlands go?”

“Did they discover anything?”

“No. All the other schools are investigating as well, but no one has found anything.”

“There’s no way those deep woods could have just vanished overnight. And whoever did it damaged it in a way that left it beyond repair. The Two-Law Usurper was quiet for so long before he went and pulled this off... What does he stand to gain by practically destroying his own roost?”

“There is one thing that bothers me though.”

“What’s up?”

“The Holy Sword World Hyphoria. Their Private Institution of Hunting is the only school that’s shown zero interest in investigating what’s left of the Enigmatic Woodlands. Almost as though they know something...”

“I see. We can’t let them get the jump on us. Compared to the Two-Law Usurper, tomorrow’s skirmish with the misfits of the Demon King Academy is a trivial matter. Continue investigating, but be careful not to dig too deep. Don’t forget that the opponent is one of the Inviolable Waters.”

“Yes, sir!”

The Tigrisfort Academy students passed us and left. The forest had simply been flattened from a fight, so their search was all in vain. Oh well.

But I did have my promise to Loncruz to fulfill, so maybe it was better for them to assume something had happened. I should put on a show as the Two-Law Usurper sometime soon.

“Let’s go,” I said.

We resumed walking up the stairs, climbing to the fifth floor. Before us was a pure white door, and unlike on all the other floors, the wall was entirely white.

“This spot feels different...” Misa mumbled.

“We can take a look.”

Misa reached for the door with a hand of mist. Just then, the Two-Law Blade trembled.

“Wait,” I said. She looked at me. “It’s the magic power of a god.”

I glared at the door with mauve Magic Eyes. There was divine magic covering the entire room—one that couldn’t be seen without getting this close. It felt similar to Equis.

“There’s a god protecting this room. If we enter now, they may notice us.”

“Even with Titegenne?” Misa asked.

“We’re deep inside an enemy castle. Safer to assume it wouldn’t hold up.”

“Oh my. How inconvenient. If we want to learn anything about Farris, we need to go in.”

Shin silently looked up at the ceiling.

“Hmm. Good idea,” I said to Shin. Then I turned back to Misa. “As long as we don’t enter the room, we should have some time before they notice us.”

“Got it,” Misa said. She leaped up and entered the ceiling through a tiny crack. Led by her magic, we turned into mist and leaped up after her. As mist, we drifted inside the ceiling until we found another crack leading into the room. I stared at it with my Magic Eyes without entering it.

The inside of the room was pure white, with five paintings hung on the wall. Each one was of a castle. All five were beautiful, tranquil, and brimming with love. There was a strong magic power sealed within the frames, as though the soul of the artists themselves had been trapped inside. But it wasn’t the magic of the god. There was no sign of a god in the room, only the paintings.

“There’s only paintings in here,” Misa said, sounding confused.

“So it seems.”

But there definitely was a god here—the chief god of Balandias, in most likelihood. They would have shown themselves as soon as we stepped into the room. It seemed like they were protecting the paintings, but what was so valuable about them that they needed the chief god to personally stand guard?

Just then, the door to the room opened. Footsteps approached, followed by the sight of Farris. He immediately made his way over to where the five paintings were displayed. The space beside the paintings distorted as magic power gathered in a bright flash of light. A large silver tiger appeared, staring at Farris with glinting Divine Eyes.

“Good day to you, Royal Tiger Maytilen, Chief God of Balandias,” Farris said.

“Here to see the paintings again?” the tiger asked.

“Yes.”

“An eccentric one, aren’t you?”

The Royal Tiger curled up into a ball. Farris seemed to be familiar with his chief god’s behavior, as he ignored her in favor of staring at the pictures.

“If you want the paintings so much, just accept my offer already,” Maytilen said.

“I’m not suited to be a ruler.”

“What are you saying?” Maytilen replied, unfurling to look at Farris directly. “I am the will of Balandias, and what I say goes. My Divine Eyes can see how beloved your creation magic is by all in the Silvercastle World. If you become the ruler, Farris, you will be able to construct an unshakable castle in Balandias. Not a cardboard castle, but a truly immovable castle.”

The Royal Tiger praised Farris enthusiastically.

“The time is not right for such a thing. A large and sturdy castle needs an unshakable foundation—a powerful light that can lead the people. Balandias does not have that now,” Farris replied.

“That light is you, Farris. As ruler, you could bring prosperity to Balandias. You could look at these paintings as much as you wanted.”

“I don’t have what it takes, Chief God Maytilen. A king is a repulsive yet beautiful existence. Someone who can embody both good and evil with a smile, who can devote themselves to always moving forwards. I patiently wait for the day that person is born.”

But the Royal Tiger just shook her head at his words.

“You’re asking for the impossible, Farris. Since the very beginning of Balandias I’ve replaced countless rulers, but none have ever been as worthy as you. You are strong and beautiful. You are the silver castle that rises in Balandias itself. You are the wings that I have been seeking all this time.”

Farris closed his eyes as though to disagree. “I am not beautiful.”

“How can you still not understand me? No one has ever denied my selection before. If you’d just agree, Kaltinas would never again push you around. If you simply wished for it, Balandias would already be within the Holy Six Academies. Should I just tell him that?”

Farris stared at his chief god calmly. “Chief God Maytilen. I’m sure you know already, but please do not mention a word of this to the Immovable King.”

“Oh, I know, I know. I was just kidding. He’s too jealous. Your life would be at risk.”

Maytilen curled up like a cat again. Farris’s gaze returned to the five paintings.

“What is it that makes you so unhappy? I’m already offering you everything. All honor and envy will be yours. Everything in Balandias—its paintings, its castles, its wealth—will belong to you. When you are ruler, everyone will smile, thoroughly captivated by your beauty. Wouldn’t you want something so wonderful?”

Farris continued staring at the paintings without responding.

“Nothing to say?”

He remained quiet.

Maytilen sighed and gave up. Just as she closed her eyes, Farris mumbled.

“None of that would be beautiful.”

§ 27. Posthumous Works

The sound of a slamming door disturbed the silence. Standing at the entrance to the room was the Immovable King Kaltinas, breathing heavily through his nose. Zaimon, the top student of the academy, was right behind him.

“We heard the news, Farris,” Kaltinas said. “You used to be close to the ruler of that ephemeral world, yes? Was he your former master?”

Farris looked away from the paintings to stare at the Immovable King. “What about it?”

“Shouldn’t it be obvious?” Kaltinas asked, marching right up to Farris. “His weaknesses. Tell us everything.”

Farris sighed quietly, closing his eyes. “The opponent is a shallow-level world inferior to Pablohetra. Militia’s World has only just made it to the silver seas and has no way of knowing Balandias’s abilities. The stage for the skirmish is Second Balandias, inside our own castle. The humane and beautiful thing to do would be to face the Demon King Academy’s best efforts with our own.”

“Fool. How many times do we have to tell you? This is war. Keep spouting your idealistic nonsense and you’ll only be preyed upon. This is why the chief god chose us as the ruler, not you.”

“Pablohetra was founded on the principle of the lull of the Sacred Silverwater Sea,” Farris replied. “The Silverwater Ranking Skirmish is how peaceful decisions can be made. Only through fair and just competition can the beauty of friendship be born. The same friendship that can one day become the sword and shield to protect Balandias.”

“Obviously that’s all a facade. Lull? Utter nonsense! No one in Pablohetra truly believes that drivel. In the Sacred Silverwater sea there is no justice, no fairness. We must use whatever methods we can to demonstrate the might of Balandias. Only once the power of the Immovable King resounds in every world in the silver sea will Balandias begin to see true peace!” Kaltinas said, so forcefully it was as if he wished to push his words, and the beliefs he expressed with them, on anyone listening.

“There are times we have need of power, but power is just one way to act. The seeds of war are born in the hearts of the people. Without humanity, there is no peace.”

The Immovable King snorted. “None of that would matter if all silverfoam belonged to Balandias.”

“Even if that were to happen, that would only be the beginning. Ugly bubbles that swell rapidly will easily pop at the slightest touch.”

“Such naive thoughts. Listen up—we are the ruler. You are our pawn. Stop thinking and do as you’re told.”

Farris stared back at Kaltinas coldly.

“If you don’t like it, then leave! Leave this castle now!” the Immovable King shouted, eyes bulging with anger as he stomped towards the door.

“Lord Kaltinas,” Zaimon said quietly. “Farris is the Silvercastle Creator, the only man who can pilot Zeridheavens, the strongest castle of Balandias. I know it is much easier for you to deal with insubordinate subjects by disposing of them, but a wise king is capable of working around them.”

Zaimon knelt, bowing his head as he continued his defense of Farris. “I will personally keep a close eye on him. Please reconsider.”

“Hmph. There’s no need to worry. That man is too much of a coward to leave this castle,” Kaltinas said.

Zaimon looked up in confusion.

Kaltinas continued. “Isn’t that right, Farris? If you leave the castle, we will have free rein over these castles.” He licked his lips with a repulsive smirk, shooting a pointed look to the five paintings behind Farris. “Each of these five castles are on par with Zeridheavens, after all. But let us be clear. We’re only using Zeridheavens because you begged us not to use these castles for war. Just because you have the slightest skill at creating castles doesn’t mean you hold any leverage here. Far from it.”

“I will keep my promise,” Farris replied.

“That’s what you should have said from the beginning, fool. You are below us. Make sure you understand that. You. Are.Below. Us.”

“I know. Lord Kaltinas is my ruler.”

Satisfied, Kaltinas started laughing, long and loud.

“That’s more like it! Good grief. You may be skilled, but that head of yours is utterly empty. Who else would go out of their way to develop magic that specifically seals castles into picture frames for display? The only worth a castle has is on the battlefield. It makes no sense at all.” The Immovable King looked down at Farris and sneered. “Castles aren’t meant to be admired. They’re armor designed to protect their master. And just like those castles, your only value is in how you may serve us. You could never be a ruler.”

Was Kaltinas’s obsessive need to assert his superiority over Farris because he knew just how valuable his skill was in a world like Balandias? If he were truly secure in his worthiness as the ruler, he would just shut his mouth and feel confident in his place.

“Now, tell me all his weaknesses.”

“To expose the affairs of my former master is an ugly thing. Such insincerity will backfire on you someday, Immovable King.”

“Fool. Do you think we would ever allow rebellion? Your power is our power. We would rather crush your fingers such that you could never hold a castle sword again before letting you fall into the enemy’s hands.” Kaltinas grabbed Farris by the collar. “Listen carefully. Do not underestimate us. Take a long moment and think carefully. Defy us, and we will take those five castles and use them in the next match.”

Farris shot him a sharp glare, making him falter.

“Wh-What’s that look for?” Kaltinas stuttered. “Are you defying us, is that it? Is that what you’re doing? I’ll use them, mark our words!”

Farris could only reply with silence. He didn’t want the five paintings to be used by Kaltinas. But he couldn’t tell him my weaknesses either—because there weren’t any. Honestly, he could’ve just said as much. How upright.

Unable to stay silent and watch any longer, Zaimon stepped forwards with a suggestion of his own.

“Immovable King,” he said. “There is no need to exert such efforts just to hunt a mere mouse. Farris is being stubborn because he believes the Balandias army you lead can easily secure a victory even by fighting fairly. Why don’t you order Farris to command the battle and resolve all this that way?”

If Farris took command, he would have no choice but to use the weaknesses he knew.

“By eliminating his former master with his own hands, he can deepen his loyalty to you even more,” Zaimon added.

The Immovable King huffed and tossed Farris to the floor. He then turned around.

“Be grateful Zaimon speaks for you,” he spat before leaving the room.

Zaimon held his head bowed towards Kaltinas until he was out of sight. Once the footsteps faded completely, he sighed and offered a hand to Farris from where he was on the floor.

“That pride of yours will kill you before your time.”

“I always seem to make trouble for you,” Farris replied, taking his hand and standing up.

Zaimon then looked at the five paintings on the wall. “Are these pictures really so precious to you?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t get it. They’re just castles in frames.”

Farris smiled awkwardly as Zaimon examined the pictures, tilting his head from side to side in befuddlement. “They are indeed just that,” Farris replied.

Zaimon sighed tiredly once again. He turned to Farris with a serious look.

“We’ve known each other for pretty long now. Isn’t it time you opened up to me?”

“I thought you held no interest in paintings.”

“Paintings, no. What I’m interested in is you,” Zaimon said simply. He stared straight back at Farris. “If you don’t want to speak, I won’t insist that you do. But we’ve fought together on countless battlefields. It doesn’t feel right to keep secrets from each other.”

“That’s true... I suppose I thought the story would bore you.” Farris gazed at the five paintings. “These five castles weren’t created by me.”

“No? These five castles that are on par with Zeridheavens itself?”

Farris nodded. “I used to be an artist. I made paintings and sculptures.”

“An artist?”

“Perhaps you’d be more familiar with the term painter. Paintings weren’t the only things I created, but Balandias isn’t really familiar with the concept of art, as you know.”

Zaimon nodded with a doubtful look.

“I used to wander from place to place in order to show off my works. But Balandias values the beauty of functionality: castles, castle swords, magic tools, and armor for war. My paintings were not accepted anywhere—that is, until I arrived at one remote village,” Farris continued, eyes fixed on the paintings on the wall. “I found like-minded people there—people who were sick of creations that had to be useful. They craved something different in their works. I set up an atelier in that village and created alongside them. Their talent was blinding, and their creativity was limitless. As residents of Balandias that excel in castle creation, they were quick to learn creation magic and made piece after piece.”

Even after being born in another world, Farris had still been able to find like-minded companions. He must have dearly enjoyed cultivating his life’s passion with them.

“Most of the villagers were elderly. Among them was a man called Master Carzen.”

Zaimon suddenly reacted to those words. “Master Carzen? The Silvercastle Master Carzen Elminac? The one who created castles for the previous ruler of Balandias?”

Farris nodded. “Master Carzen and the castle carpenters he worked with came to a realization in their time at the atelier: They wanted to create a beautiful castle that wasn’t a weapon of war. I taught them the magic techniques I gained through creating Zeridheavens, and they began to pour their hearts and souls into castle creation.”

“I heard he retired due to age, as he was unable to create castles anymore...”

Zaimon’s confusion and disbelief was clear on his face. He couldn’t understand the purpose of a castle that just looked beautiful and nothing more.

“Master Carzen said he retired because he couldn’t extinguish the smoldering emotions in his chest. His fellow carpenters who felt similarly followed him when he left. They had all planned on quietly living the rest of their lives in that remote village. And although they all quit creating castles, they never quite understood what that smoldering feeling in their chests was.”

In telling his story, Farris spoke carefully, with each word practically overflowing with his sincerity towards art.

“And so our meeting felt like fate.”

From the sound of his story, there was no such thing as art or an art culture in Balandias. If there were, it was even less developed than it had been in Dilhade two thousand years ago. Such a lack was why Master Carzen and his fellow carpenters had had no understanding of the burning sensation—their hearts’ desire—in their chests.

But they had met Farris Noin, the famed creation magic artist, and he too had been seeking someone who could understand his works.

“It was like a weight had been lifted from their shoulders. This was what they wanted to create all along. They hadn’t created tens of thousands of castles for war—they had created them simply because they liked castles. That was what their hearts had been crying out for this whole time. And thus, after many, many years, five castles were completed.”

Farris’s gaze returned to the five paintings. His eyes were clear.

“These are their posthumous works. They passed on with the most satisfied smiles on their faces.”

What had been smoldering in their hearts their whole lives was their love for castles, their love of their craft. When they finally realized that, their love had burned hotter than ever before.

“These five castles are the works of my fellow artists. They exist to be admired for their beauty and that is all. They are never to be used on a battlefield. I decided to frame them, to seal them from anyone trying to use them until the day Balandias’s war with the outer worlds comes to an end and peace finally arrives.”

Farris turned back to Zaimon.

“But one day, while I was away, the Tigrisfort Army came to the village. They stole all five frames with the castles inside. I wanted to retrieve them, but...”

He reached out to the paintings. The moment he made contact, his fingers were set aflame, and he automatically retracted his hand with a flinch. Maytilen, who had been curled up asleep this whole time, opened one Divine Eye.

“What are you doing? Mind the barrier,” she said before closing her Eye again.

“As you can see, I don’t stand a chance against the powers of the chief god. So I pleaded with the Immovable King. I promised to create a better castle than the ones he stole so that these five could remain in their frames.”

“And that’s how you became the Silvercastle Creator?”

“Yes.”

Farris understood the feelings of his fellow artists all too well. And so he had handed over his soul, all to make sure the works imbued with their souls would never be used for war.

“It may be mere castles to you, but to me—”

“Then let’s get them back,” Zaimon interrupted.

Farris looked like he couldn’t believe his ears. He turned around to look at the Royal Tiger, but Maytilen’s eyes were still closed in disinterest.

“Don’t worry. I’ve already spoken to our chief god.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Kaltinas has created too many enemies. While his efforts to bring Balandias to the deep levels is commendable, his methods to do so have repulsed many of his confidants and other castle lords. He is steering Balandias to its own ruin. Above all, he is not capable of being ruler.”

Farris stared at Zaimon in shock. “I thought you swore loyalty to Lord Kaltinas.”

“Only for the greater good. And for that good I will perform whatever I need to, pretend whatever I need to pretend. Not to quote him or anything, but Balandias cannot be saved by ideals alone.”

So Zaimon was planning a rebellion. Judging from the situation, the people we passed earlier also seemed to be in on it.

“I climbed this far by catering to his moods. The Royal Tiger has agreed to close her eyes to the rebellion for the sake of obtaining a better ruler of Balandias.”

“And will that be you?” Farris asked.

Zaimon shook his head quietly. “You do it, Farris. You detest war, so you know best when a fight is truly necessary. You are the one who is most worthy of being the ruler of the Silvercastle World Balandias.”

Farris was wide-eyed. He hadn’t been expecting those words at all.

“This way, everything can be resolved peacefully. You will regain your paintings, Balandias will gain a more worthy ruler, and the castle lords and I will gain a respectable master to serve. Even the chief god will gain more power in the end. If you wish for peace with Militia’s World for old times’ sake, then you can make that happen.”

Farris struggled to reply to Zaimon’s offer. He didn’t speak immediately.

“We cannot afford for this plan to fail. If the Immovable King learns of this, we’ll have no chance of success. But despite the odds, all you need to do is say the word, and I will give you my life. And I’m not the only one. All the castle lords will follow.”

“Zaimon, I...” Farris looked down in thought for a moment, then looked up. “I was just an ordinary artist. But I’ve realized that I can’t protect the works of my fellow artists if I don’t replace the paint on my brush with blood. In Militia’s World, I lived in an endless state of civil war. Most of Balandias’s wars were with outer worlds, but regardless of the opponent, war is still tragic.”

Balandias must have fought many miniature worlds that weren’t affiliated with Pablohetra. So it seemed that even though Farris had reincarnated with dreams of peace, he had been born in the flames of war once again.

“Two thousand years ago, when the Great War was worsening in Militia’s World, my comrades and the great king who protected me were the only reason I was able to keep painting.” He took the castle sword at his waist into his hands. “They spoiled me. It was only when I was separated from them that I first experienced what it meant to protect others. That was when I finally realized it—painting cannot save anyone. People need defensive castles and swords that can defeat the enemies, not paintings to look at.”

He clenched the castle sword’s hilt.

“It took me this long to realize something so simple. I was just a spoiled artist, painting while my comrades sacrificed their lives to protect me. I could never be a ruler,” Farris said quietly, as though he was confessing his sins. “One day, a light will be born in Balandias, and it will be the true light who can lead our world to peace. If you need someone to give your life to, Zaimon, I ask that you wait for this person to do so.”

Zaimon grabbed Farris by the shoulder, fixing his comrade with a fierce gaze. “That light will not be born, Farris. We’ve waited long enough. And you were the one who arrived!”

“You are the wings who will lead us forwards, Farris,” Zaimon pleaded, every word dripping with earnest passion. “You’ve fought as the Silvercastle Creator. We were able to make it through the harshest battlefields thanks to you and Zeridheavens. Above all, you always, always remained true to your ideals without fear of Immovable King, even when he threatened your life! All twenty-four castle lords of the Balandias Fleet and their soldiers approve of you!”

Zaimon then knelt on the spot, bowing down on both hands.

“Please, Farris, please. Fight for us. I will create an opportunity for us to show you our resolve. You are the blessed one of war, the wings of Balandias that fly freely through the battlefield. No one will ever stand in your way.”

He bowed to Farris, so low that his head touched the floor.

§ 28. The Royal Tiger’s Offer

A long silence followed Zaimon’s plea. Zaimon stayed low the entire time, bowing with his head touching the floor. Meanwhile Farris stood, visibly struggling to find his words after so unexpectedly being put on the spot. But eventually he regained enough of his composure to speak.

“Please get up, Zaimon. I do not wish to make my brother-in-arms prostrate himself so.”

Zaimon quietly looked up. “Does that mean...”

Just then, footsteps and voices could be heard coming up the stairs. The two looked over to the door with identical wary glances. There was no guarantee everyone in Balandias was in agreement with the rebellion. They couldn’t afford to let anyone else find out.

“Let’s go. The strategy meeting will start soon,” Farris said, holding out a hand.

“Yes...”

Zaimon accepted the hand and got to his feet. The two left the room, quietly closing the door behind them.

What we saw pretty much explained Farris’s circumstances, as well as Balandias’s. Whether Zaimon’s rebellion would result in success or failure, it was clear that it was only a matter of time before the ruler of Balandias was replaced.

“Should we get the paintings back for him?” Misa asked.

“If it were that simple, Farris would have come to me himself. I believe he was telling the truth when he said he was waiting for the light of Balandias to be born. The paintings were just the trigger. Regaining them may not change his mind.”

His love for painting hadn’t changed, but as he said before, he had broken his own brush. As someone who didn’t paint, I could only imagine the depth of his pain and sorrow.

“He used to draw even in the middle of the battlefield. When he makes up his mind about something, he will not yield his decision easily.”

Yet that same Farris had broken the promise he once made to draw a picture of peace.

“In that case, he may have a plan—”

“You three. Get down here,” Maytilen’s voice echoed loudly across the room, easily reaching us through the ceiling.

Hmm. I guess I should have expected as much from a chief god. She had noticed us long ago.

“Shall I strike her?”

“Do I cut her?”

Misa and Shin asked at the same time. How reassuring.

“Doesn’t hurt to hear her out first,” I replied.

We descended into the room through a gap in the ceiling. The Royal Tiger’s Divine Eyes stared at us as we approached.

“You’re the ruler of Militia’s World, aren’t you?” she said.

“What do you want?” I said.

Large Divine Eyes narrowed slightly in laughter. “How did you know?”

“If you were going to just dispose of us, you wouldn’t have waited for them to leave first.”

“Then I’ll cut straight to the chase. I heard you were a misfit, but you’re clearly sharper than Kaltinas. Someone worth serving, at least.” The Royal Tiger Maytilen got up and brought her large head close to mine. “I’d like you to destroy the Immovable King Kaltinas, Ruler of Balandias.”

“Oh?”

The Royal Tiger’s gaze pierced through me like she was staring into the abyss. It was clear this chief god had considerable power—power she hadn’t shown yet. As the chief god of a deep-level world, her birth was probably much different from Equis’s. There’s no way she could be inferior to them.

“Why don’t you do it yourself?” I asked.

“You’re new to the Sacred Silverwater Sea, yes? You seem to know nothing about these waters. Chief gods cannot destroy the rulers they chose themselves. If I break this rule, the miniature world will perish, and I will become a nameless god with no world.”

She was most likely telling the truth. In any case, facts like that were easy to confirm later with Ottolulu.

“You wish to formally join Pablohetra. We’ll let you win the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish tomorrow. Take as much firedew and insignias as you like.”

“And in exchange, we destroy the Immovable King for you?” I said.

“Yes. I chose him as a means to more quickly cultivate Balandias, and he’s served his purpose. The foundation is done. All that’s needed now is a beautiful castle to sit on top. A true ruler worthy of being the rock of my Balandias.”

Maytilen smiled fearlessly.

“That Farris, now he’s a good one. His hands that create castles, his eyes that see into the abyss, all of it is beautiful. He would be the perfect ruler for me—for Balandias.”

“Why didn’t you choose him first then?” I asked.

“Balandias has a long history. There were over ten rulers before Kaltinas. Our neighboring seas have many enemies unaffiliated with Pablohetra, so I couldn’t afford to leave the ruler position empty and wait for the right one to come along.”

Even a decorative ruler was necessary at times. I supposed I could see the logic behind such a decision.

“Once the ruler perishes, I am able to choose a new ruler. But Farris refuses to agree. If he had, Balandias would be within the Holy Six by now,” Maytilen said, sounding frustrated. “As you heard earlier, Kaltinas is so envious of Farris’s talent that he took his five castles hostage. His actions have only made Farris even more opposed to the idea of being a ruler, and now he obeys Kaltinas’s every whim.”

The Immovable King also knew, at his core, that Farris was a more suitable ruler than he was. Yet he refused to give up his post—how greedy.

“But a chance has finally arrived. Zaimon has been searching for an opportunity to remove Kaltinas for a long time, but that man is vigilant. As Farris rides on the same ship as Kaltinas, only he would have a real chance of doing anything. But Farris is kind. He may not agree to the rebellion. And even in the event he does agree, he may ruin the plan by being unable to kill Kaltinas.”

“So you want me to make a move the moment the Immovable King stops the rebellion and therefore has his guard down.”

Maytilen cackled with laughter. “Clever one you are. But do not let Farris know. If Farris doesn’t truly believe he failed, Kaltinas might not fall for it.”

So that’s why she’d waited for them to leave before calling out to me.

“Once Farris is ruler, we will maintain a close relationship with Militia’s World. You may reunite with him as you please. Your former subordinate will stand shoulder to shoulder with you as a fellow ruler. Not a bad deal, right?” Maytilen said, looking down on us.

Clearly, since she viewed us as residents of an ephemeral world, she was underestimating us. She had been vigilantly waiting for a ruler who had no choice but to accept this deal, and as Farris’s former master, I was the perfect candidate.

“There’s no need for any useless haggling. Your answer should be obvious.”

“Indeed it should,” I said.

Maytilen smirked.

“I refuse.”

“Wha...”

Maytilen gave me a dumbfounded look of disbelief.

“Fine. Perhaps we may negotiate after all. I shouldn’t have expected any less. Go on, say it. What more do you desire?” she asked.

I pointed at the paintings behind her. “First of all, it’s you who is keeping the paintings here and forcing Farris to obey Kaltinas.”

Maytilen paused, then replied. “I was asked to keep a constant eye over them. The moment my barrier fades, Kaltinas will be notified immediately.”

“You’ve been plotting a rebellion with Zaimon behind his back. There should have been plenty of opportunities in that time to return a few paintings to Farris.”

“Get to the point. What are you trying to say?”

“You’re the one who won’t return the paintings to Farris, not Kaltinas. If you did, you would risk him vanishing from your sight. He may even leave Balandias altogether. That is what you really fear.”

Maytilen fell silent, glaring at me with her Divine Eyes.

“You want Farris as your ruler—by any means necessary.”

“I will not deny that. It is within a chief god’s nature to seek better rulers. It’s order. That’s why—”

“That’s why you created a plan to catch him,” I said.

She neither agreed nor disagreed. Her magic power just rose from her body in a threatening wave.

“You say Kaltinas took the paintings hostage out of jealousy. But who made him jealous in the first place? Who told him about the paintings at all?” I grinned back at her fierce glare.

“Kaltinas noticed his talent and sent his soldiers to the village,” Maytilen replied.

“You think that foolish man’s Demon Eyes would notice an atelier for hobby artists in a remote village?” I said.

She didn’t say anything.

“I assume you were the one whispering words in his ear. Manipulating Kaltinas to act so that you could force Farris to be Balandias’s ruler and by doing so steal his freedom, his paintings, and his soul,” I said, moving my finger to point at her. “You’re just like the worthless chief god back in our world; you have a total disregard for the feelings of others, only taking what’s convenient for you. The only thing you have in that rotten skull of yours is your order of self-interest.”

Maytilen’s ugly smirk spread from ear to ear.

“And you’re no different from the fools of my world,” she said. “Definitely a misfit. Know this: I have never stolen anything. How could I? I am the will of the Silvercastle World Balandias. Everything in my world belongs to me. The sky, the land, the countless castles, the lives—they are all mine.”

She was surprisingly quick to confess. I hadn’t even provided any proof yet. Was she really just that offended by being provoked by a misfit? Well, considering her position, it didn’t have to be me. She could wait for another willing ruler to come along instead.

“I will not eliminate you here, but remember this, misfit.”

Maytilen’s front legs glowed silver. It didn’t feel like she had done anything, but the authority of the Royal Tiger lifted my body into the air. My body, that had been transformed into mist through Titegenne, slipped through the gaps of the ceiling and was launched out of the castle. The sky appeared, a wide swath of color over my head.

“Farris belongs to Balandias now. He will never go back to you. Never.”

“There are some lines that should never be crossed carelessly,” I replied to her with Leaks. “And you just crossed one. Enjoy your last day dreaming of your unfulfilled ambitions. Tomorrow, I will crush them—together with that worthless plan of yours.”

§ 29. The Silverwater Ranking Skirmish

The next day.

The Demon King Express spewed smoke from its chimney as it crossed the Dark Firmament. A giant castle filled our entire field of view. Technically speaking, it wasn’t a castle—it was a lump of stone, boulders, and hard dirt. A rock world in the shape of a castle. It was Second Balandias, the stage for the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish.

The Demon King Express slowly descended to the gate of Second Balandias and went inside. A vast underground space eventually came into view. It was similar to the underground world in Militia’s World. There seemed to be some kind of order at work, as it was faintly illuminated. There were very few trees, lakes, or plants. It was a world of rock, through and through.

It was no wonder art and culture didn’t exist in such a bleak landscape. And while there were many fort cities across the rugged land, they seemed formed only to defend from enemy attack, and nothing more.

“Ruler Anos, please lead the Demon King Academy here.”

A light rose from the land to show us where Ottolulu wanted us to go. Under Eldmed’s command, the Demon King Express descended to the specified spot and stopped.

“Wait there,” Ottolulu said. She was standing on a large magic circle drawn on the ground. She then inserted a large windup key into the keyhole of the magic circle and turned it with both hands. “Silhale.”

The key turned three times. A section of the magic circle opened like a door, and silverwater started flowing out of it. Once a silver pool had formed over the magic circle, the large mouth of a whale appeared just below the surface of the water. The whale was blue, and of a species I had never seen before.

“Hmm. What’s that?” I stuck my head out of the train window and asked Ottolulu.

“It’s called a silverwater whale. A rare magic creature that swims through the silver seas,” she replied.

The whale’s body tilted, sinking back into the silverwater. Vivid blue firefly-like lights spouted out of the hole on its back—firedew.

“This is the firedew used for the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish.”

Once the whale had spouted all the firedew it would spew, it leaped out of the pool and began swimming through the skies of Second Balandias. Ottolulu turned the windup key once again, and the silverwater covering the magic circle was sucked back into the hole. The magic circle then faded.

“You may manage your firedew freely, but only the firedew in your ship is considered yours. Any firedew not on your ship will be retrieved by the silverwater whale in three minutes. Be careful not to get eaten by it,” she explained in a businesslike tone.

“Store it in the cargo hold,” I said.

The Fan Union girls in the turret carriage immediately piped up.

“Cog cannon ready!”

“Alignment complete!”

The cannon with a cog set inside it was pointed at the firedew.

“Firing absorption cog! Neos!”

A chained cog was fired from the cannon, releasing an absorptive power that pulled the firedew towards it like a magnet.

“Suck it in! Suuuck!” the fan union girls cheered as they pulled the Neos back into the cannon by the chain. The attached firedew light was released in the cargo hold. The girls repeated this until the first, second, and third cargo holds were full of firedew.

“Offensive magic power detected. Presumed magic canon,” Misha said.

The next moment, a loud booming sound rattled the train. Several shells were fired around the Demon King Express, causing the nearby ground to explode.

The students raised their voices in protest at the shaking ground.

“Kyaaah!”

“What?! It hasn’t even started yet!”

“Sneaky bastards!”

“Wah ha ha ha ha ha!” Kaltinas’s voice echoed through Leaks.

“Sky fortresses approaching from above. Twenty-five ships total,” Misha said.

I turned my Magic Eyes to the sky to see roughly twenty-five castle ships flying our way.

“So much screaming over a simple greeting. A shell that doesn’t hit its target is just a puff of air. What are you so afraid of? Cowards,” Kaltinas said mockingly. He stopped the Tigrisfort Academy’s sky fortresses in formation above us. “Well, considering your forces, that’s no surprise. You think you can face us with all of you squeezed onto a single shoddy ship? How pitiful. We could cry.”

“Oh? Those faulty eyes of yours can still shed tears?” I asked.

His confident ramblings came to a sudden halt. I could imagine him trembling with anger already.

“Say that again.”

“Of course, your Eyes aren’t the only thing that’s faulty about you. The Royal Tiger Maytilen is the same. Neither of you know who you’ve made an enemy out of.”

I sent a Limnet over to Kaltinas to show him my face.

“A single Demon King Express is enough to face your fleet. Now save the small talk and come at me.” I leaned back on the throne and rested my chin on my hand, the picture of ease. “No matter how many ships you bring, I’ll knock every last one of them down.”

“Say what you want. You’ll learn your place soon enough!”

I silently showed him the magic crystal in front of me using Limnet. His hair stood on end in rage.

“And to think we considered going easy on you in the event you begged us for mercy. It seems there’s no need for that anymore! Our castle will crush that measly ship of yours to dust. Ottolulu! Give the signal!”

Ottolulu rose up into the sky of Second Balandias and sent a Leaks out to both sides.

“The Silverwater Ranking Skirmish between the Demon King Academy of Militia’s World and the Tigrisfort Academy of Silvercastle World Balandias will now begin. Any damage to the stage of Second Balandias will be allowed. By the principles of Pablohetra and the order of the silver seas, let us reach the deepest of depths.”

A magic circle was drawn in the sky. Ottolulu inserted her windup key and turned it with both hands. Deep blue water started pouring out of it, creating a thin curtain of rippling water that covered the surrounding environment. It seemed to be a barrier defending the land from stray blows. The ripple barrier could reduce the force of most hits, protecting Second Balandias from major damage.

“Fireman, stoker, shovel all the coal as fast as you can. Set course for the middle of the enemy fleet, full steam ahead!”

“G-Got it!”

“Full steam ahead!”

Under Eldmed’s instructions, the engine room set its course, with the wheels of the train beginning to turn rapidly.

“We’re charging straight into the middle? Won’t they bombard us?” Sasha asked from the turret carriage.

“Bwa ha ha! Impossible! Not happening! Never! These snobs are looking down on us for being misfits of an ephemeral world. Do you really think they’d want to finish things off neatly with a sudden bombardment? Never! They’d rather drag it out as long as they can and slowly strangle us instead, so they can savor it.”

“That...might be true...” Sasha said.

The Demon King Express rose into the sky, heading straight for the formation of sky fortresses waiting for them.

“Protect us with the best barrier you have, Demon King’s magic. We’ll open a hole in their formation and give those who’d look down on us quite a wake-up call.”

“Got it!” Eleonore replied.

The Demon King Express accelerated, approaching the fleet of castles.

“Demon King’s Choir,” Eldmed said. “Fire at the nearest castle before you as soon as it comes within range. But make sure you use the train’s peashooter.”

“Understood!” Ellen and the Fan Union girls replied.

“Cannon One to Cannon Nine, aligned to target.”

“Ready to fire!”

“Here goes!”

They aimed the cannon at the sky fortress before them and drew a magic circle.

“Abysm!”

A bevy of broken cogs was fired from the train’s cannons in quick succession. They made direct contact with the castles, but were easily deflected by its outer walls.

“Wah ha ha! What is that, a little peashooter? We don’t even need to deploy our walls! Let’s show them what a real cannon looks like!”

“Immovable King, the general magic communication channel is still linked. We should switch to our private channel,” Zaimon’s voice echoed. Our Leaks were still connected, so I could hear everything Kaltinas and the other people from Balandias were saying.

“Let them listen. Who cares? Even if they know our plans we’ll still win. That is how the truly strong compose themselves.”

“Understood. Wasn’t it decided yesterday that Farris was to be in command?”

“Oh, we changed our mind. When a group can only fire a measly peashooter there’s no need to aim for their weakness so precisely. We’ll show those dimwits what war really looks like.”

“A cornered rat may still bite a cat. Be on your guard.”

“Would you bother drawing your castle sword just to crush an ant?”

“At the very least, have the four Camlahi ships fall back with Zeridheavens. Even if we’re strong, we can still lose if they take our firedew.”

“You’re far too cautious, Zaimon. Very well. Zeridheavens, Camlahi, fall back. The twenty Eten ships will proceed forwards and intercept them from the front.”

The five ships moved backwards as instructed. Judging from Zaimon and Kaltinas’s conversation, their firedew was apparently stored in one of those ships.

“Eten Four, open all gunports. Show them what a large cannon looks like.”

The sky fortress in the front opened its ports. The Demon King Express continued charging.

“Fire!”

The magic cannons fired with a deafening sound. Shells struck the train, one after another, exploding like fierce fireworks. In no time, the train was completely swallowed in flames.

“Cease fire! Wah ha ha, how was that? Can you still fly now—”

Kaltinas suddenly fell silent. Wrapped in a smokelike barrier, the Demon King Express charged in a straight line through the flames uninterrupted. Scattered across the barrier were countless stork feathers; Eleonore had used the spell Ennessone-Eleonore to increase her magic power beyond its natural limit, then used it to create a barrier of order and magic around the train’s body.

“E-Enemy unharmed! No damage spotted!”

“We can’t deploy the castle walls in time!”

“Evade!”

Unsurprisingly, the enemy responded quickly to this development. The ship Eten Four realized they couldn’t make a more powerful barrier in time to counteract the Demon King Express’s charge and ascended instead.

However...

“E-Enemy has changed course! They’re going to make contact!”

“They read our movements?! That can’t be! And how could a mere barrier like that withstand our attacks?!”

The Demon King Express charged straight at the gate of Eten Four.

Eldmed cackled. “Now! Now now now! Shock them out of their wits!”

“Teoboros Ijelia!”

White smoke spouted from the train’s chimney, wrapping an additional barrier around the train. The magic power of Ennessone-Eleonore augmented the order barrier of the Demon King Express Beltexfenblem, formerly known as the Cogs of Fate. The result was a powerful barrier that could block everything—even destruction magic.

It easily blew apart the impromptu barrier created by the enemy, allowing the train to crash into the castle like a runaway express. The front carriage wedged into the castle gate with a shrieking creak—before the gate gave way and allowed the rest of the Demon King Express to crash through the sky fortress. The train pierced through all the walls and emerged on the other side.

Stork feathers fluttered in the air. From the barrier room, Eleonore held up a finger in the air and smiled. “The Demon King’s barrier can break through anything!”

§ 30. Breath of the Holy Sword

With a hole open through its middle, Eten Four lost its ability to stay afloat.

“Grr! What a mess! How could the ship of an ephemeral world bring down one of our ships?! What happened to the castle walls?!” Kaltinas roared at his subordinates.

“We weren’t in a defensive formation, so we couldn’t get them up in time...”

“It’s the castle lord’s job to do something about that! Useless fools!”

With Teoboros Ijelia wrapped around it, the Demon King Express continued charging straight into the castles.

“Badirahier.”

A giant magic circle was drawn, forming a rampart-shaped magic barrier before the next Eten. Badirahier and Teoboros Ijelia collided with each other with a crackling noise, sparks of magic flying from the collision.

“Yes! Good job, ship six! Now crush them!”

Eten Six released magic on both flanks. But the Demon King Express had more power.

“What are you doing? Do you want to lose to an ephemeral world?!”

“Immovable King. That’s probably the power of the chief god of Militia’s World. Maybe the train itself is the chief god, and the Demon King Academy is just adding their magic to it.”

“What...?”

“If so, even though they may be from the shallows, a single Eten might not be enough to overpower them.”

Judging from their words, not every resident of the deep-level worlds could easily defeat someone from the shallows. Regardless of level, it seemed the chief god of a miniature world was still considered powerful. If anything, a single sky fortress withstanding a frontal attack from a chief god was only possible because they were from the depths.

“Hmph. So that’s their trick,” Kaltinas muttered. He observed the Demon King Express as it struggled to break through the Badirahier barrier. Although Eten Six was gradually losing its power, it had succeeded in at least slowing the train’s speed. “So what if they took down one ship? Now that we know their trick, we can deal with it accordingly. Change formation and surround them. Give them a taste of the Balandias Fleet’s shell bombardment!”

“Roger!”

A group of eight Eten ships left the one struggling against the Demon King Express and accelerated, deploying a formation around the train that blocked our escape.

“Prepare the Veylonbosm cannons,” Kaltinas ordered. The gunports of the sky fortresses opened one after another, all taking aim at the Demon King Express while avoiding Eten Six. “Blow them apart.”

A rain of magic shells fired from all eight ships’ cannons. These shells were much stronger than the shells they had fired before; each shot effectively whittled away at Teoboros Ijelia, weakening the barrier around the train. The Demon King Express’s wheels turned furiously in an attempt to move past them or have them bounce off the barrier, but ultimately we could only back away slowly from the castle walls before us.

“First and second layer of Teoboros Ijelia destroyed. Estimated one minute until barrier reaches limit,” Misha reported from the overseer room.

Teoboros Ijelia was a holy barrier of white smoke that had thirteen layers. Created by combining the Cogs of Fate with Ennessone-Eleonore, the resulting magic barrier was stronger than the collective form of Equis I previously fought. Not even a thousand Jio Grazes could have opened a hole in it. But again, it appeared the deep-levels world were something else entirely.

“Bwa ha ha! We’re sitting ducks out here!” Eldmed said with a laugh. “If we don’t do something about that rampart blocking our way, the Demon King Express will soon be full of holes. Whatever shall we do?”

“I’ll go cut it then,” Lay suggested brightly, from his position in the projectile carriage.

“You make it sound easy, Great Hero, but that Badirahier appears to be deep magic. It’ll be at least as sturdy as Equis.”

“Wouldn’t it actually be more than that?” Lay quietly looked at the Sword of Three Races, now repaired. Misha had created a new hilt to replace the broken one.

“Are you saying you can still cut it?” Eldmed asked, grinning gleefully.

“Evansmana is saying it. This sword is probably just like Anos.”

“Teoboros Ijelia destroyed up to the fifth layer. Enemy spellfire is increasing. Twenty seconds until complete loss of defenses,” Misha reported.

“Fire Lay Grandsley,” Eldmed ordered.

“Roger that!” one student said. “Opening projectile carriage!”

The doors to the projectile carriage opened. Lay jumped on a large cog and got into position, the Sword of Three Races held in one hand.

“Firing Lay!”

The large cog with Lay on it fired from the projectile room, sailing through the air and crashing into the sky fortress before us.

“Be careful!” Eleonore called, sending white smoke to wrap around his body. The smoke was Reart, a barrier-tuning spell that synchronized with Teoboros Ijelia and allowed Lay to slip through it unharmed.

“I can feel your power, Evansmana...” Lay muttered. “Will you show me your true strength, here in the depths?”

The Sword of Three Races glowed with a radiant shine, a sun suddenly emerging over Second Balandias, the burst of light like a release of power previously sealed away—

“Enemy aerial unit incoming!”

“How many?” Kaltinas asked.

“Just one! He’s armed with a holy sword!”

“Only one? Fools. A sword from an ephemeral world stands no chance against Badirahier—”

Kaltinas’s mocking sneer was interrupted by Eten Six being split right down the middle, magic barrier and all.

“It can’t be,” Kaltinas spluttered in shock. “That holy sword... There’s no way...”

“Comparing magic wavelength!”

The surrounding Eten ships immediately distanced themselves from Lay warily. But the movement caused their formation to loosen, creating a slight gap that the Demon King Express instantly charged through to break out of the Balandias Fleet’s encirclement. Eten Six, now in two pieces, fell to the ground in a flashy explosion.

“Comparison complete! There’s no mistaking it! It’s the symbol of the Holy Sword World Hyphoria, the Sword of Three Races Evansmana!”

“Evansmana... Why would the resident of an ephemeral world be in possession of such an outrageous artifact?” the Immovable King’s astounded voice muttered through Leaks.

In that brief lapse Kaltinas had used to think, the Demon King Express turned its turrets towards a nearby sky fortress. Nine cogs turned and a wooden wheel rotated.

“Cannons ready!” the Fan Union girls declared. “Boros Hetheus!”

Nine ancient wheels spun through the air, colliding with the ship’s magic barrier. The wheels creaked loudly as they carved into the Badirahier barrier with each grinding turn. The wheels were only meant to keep the ship in place—for Lay was flying over towards it with Fless.

“Hiyah!” Lay shouted.

One flash later, the Sword of Three Races had sliced the giant castle diagonally in two.

“Bwa ha ha! Wonderful! How utterly wonderful! If the sword had been used in Milita’s World just now, the world wouldn’t have survived. No wonder it was once hailed as the holy sword to defeat the Demon King! Just like the Demon King of Tyranny himself, it seems Evansmana was also unable to live up to its full potential in the shallows!” Eldmed rambled in praise, all while steering the train to evade shells and buying time for Teoboros Ijelia to be repaired.

A short laugh could be heard.

“Wah ha... Wah ha ha ha ha ha! It’s finally here. Luck is finally shining upon us! This is our chance to obtain Hyphoria’s Sword of Three Races for ourselves!” Kaltinas shouted gleefully.

“Th-The Evansmana Swordsman has closed in on Eten Nine!”

“Calm down. It may be the Sword of Three Races, the blade that can slice Atzenon’s Lions of Ruin, but its wielder is neither the Holy King nor is he one of the Five Holy Nobles. He’s just a weakling from an ephemeral world. No?”

Lay approached Eten Nine and swung the Sword of Three Races down. He put more magic into this swing than the ones before, and a crack appeared along the hilt Misha had made for Evansmana. Ultimately Lay could not control the sword’s vast power, and his grip slipped slightly, causing part of his slash to Eten Nine’s castle walls to miss and strike the ground instead.

“See? As expected, it’s too much for him to handle. Once we separate him from their ship we can handle him easily. Defeat him and steal Evansmana. Make sure you don’t take their firedew first,” Kaltinas said in a pleased voice.

“Hmm. That’s fine and all, Kaltinas, but have you forgotten we can hear your plans through Leaks?” I asked.

“Hmph. Have you forgotten, misfit, that we are allowing you to listen? Your arrogance finally makes some sense to us now. You might have felt confident with Hyphoria’s Sword of Three Races in your possession, but that holy sword can only shine with the right wielder.”

The gunports of Balandias’s sky fortresses all opened at once. Magic circles then appeared.

“Fire Veylonbosm!” Kaltinas ordered.

A barrage of magic shells rained down from the magic circles. The Demon King Express kept its distance from the attack as it ran through the sky, attempting to evade the spellfire. But there were too many cannons to avoid completely. Roughly a fifth of the blows still struck the Teoboros Ijelia barrier.

“Sorry... I think I might go down before the barrier does...” Eleonore muttered.

The Demon King Express was picking thinner areas of Veylonbosm to run through, but by doing so was getting farther and farther away from Lay’s position. Eldmed continued to instruct the students to guide the train such that damage was minimized as much as possible, but there was only so much the train could evade when outnumbered ten to one. The Balandias Fleet moved like pawns on a board game, splitting Lay from the Demon King Express.

“Lay got separated!”

“We have to cover for him!”

The Fan Union’s voices echoed with alarm. They fired Boros Hetheus from the turrets, but a different sky fortress intercepted and blocked the wheels with their castle walls.

“Hmph. It’s that poor ship of yours that needs saving now. You would have already been destroyed by now without Evansmana’s support,” Kaltinas said.

“Really? I don’t think it’d be that easy to get rid of us,” I replied. I left my throne and the carriage altogether, leaving the train to stand on the front carriage and observe the battlefield. There was no way of breaking this encirclement.

“Eleonore,” I said.

“Got it!” she replied.

I jumped, Eleonore casting Reart and allowing me to slip past the barrier around the Demon King Express.

“Fool. Did you think you could get past us using your ship as bait?” Kaltinas asked.

One ship instantly targeted me, deploying a magic barrier in my direction. Two more Eten ships closed in, deploying their castle walls and trying to sandwich me between them.

They showed no sign of slowing down—they fully intended to crush me. With a loud boom, the two ships collided.

“Wah ha ha ha ha ha! Have you learned your place yet, arrogant ruler? You never stood a chance against my fleet without a proper castle.”

“Really now?”

Kaltinas gasped in shock. “Wh-What are you doing, ship seven and eight?! Engage full throttle! Crush them into silence already!”

“There’s a problem, sir!” a soldier shouted.

“We’re going at full throttle, but we’re not moving...” another added.

“No... If anything, we’re...”

I dug my fingers into the two castle walls on either side of me and pushed back, black particles swirling in a spiral around me.

The voices of confused castle demons echoed through Leaks.

“I-It can’t be! He’s...”

“He’s pushing back against the sky fortress with his body?!”

“Is there a malfunction? No, is it his magic?! Check all engines. It may be some kind of curse!” Kaltinas snapped.

“All checks on the sky fortress completed. Everything is functioning as intended! We simply don’t have enough power!”

“Impossible! How could we lose to a single demon?! He’s a misfit from the shallows!”

“You said I didn’t have a proper castle, Immovable King,” I said, “and you were right—until now.”

Using Fless, I slowly began to rotate my body, keeping my grip on the two castles. While I moved, the two castles in my hand began to turn with me.

“F-Full throttle backwards! Retreat! Shake him off!”

“We’re trying! But we just can’t move.”

“What is this? At this rate... The sky fortress will be swung around...?”

I continued to spin with Fless, the two castles gaining momentum as they spun around me like horses on a carousel. My spin increased in speed until I was like a tornado, and with the two castles in hand, I flew up towards the Eten that was hovering over my head, smashing into it from below. Wall scraped against wall, causing multiple explosions in all three castles and gradually wearing them all down.

“G-Gwaaaaaaaaah!”

After easily destroying one Eten, I charged towards the next, hearing the castle demons’ clamor over Leaks.

“Use spellfire! Fire at them!”

“It’s no good! We can’t take aim!”

“He’s coming this way!”

“Use three ships to hold him back at once!”

“N-No way, he grabbed us instantly. G-Gyaaaaaah!”

“What is this? What is this?! The castle—our own castle—is being hurled at us?!”

“Uwaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

Screams of pandemonium echoed. On the battlefield, whoever was engulfed by the enemy would fall first. If the castle demons had known this would happen, they probably would have been able to counter it. But their imaginations were sorely lacking. Because they had never thought I’d be able to spin around with two castles in my hand, they scrambled to try to counteract me. But the time they lost coming up with a response proved fatal.

“Bwa ha ha! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!”

Eldmed watched me spin towards the surrounding sky fortresses, cackling all the while. He had completely forgotten about the Demon King Express and Lay.

“Tremble in fear, residents of Balandias. Behold the terror before you!” he declared to the Second Balandias, as though victory was already secured.

“H-He’s coming this way...”

“Retreat! Retreat at full speed! We must regroup!”

“It’s no good, he’s too fast—”

A thunderous explosion roared through the sky.

In just one minute, fourteen smoking Sky Fortress Etens had been smashed to pieces, reduced to debris falling out of the sky.

“Compared to the Demon King Anos Voldigoad, the deep-level worlds are trivial,” Eldmed said.

§ 31. Silvercastle World Worth

Sky fortresses hit the ground one after the other in a thundering cascade of rumbles and crashes. Castle demons on Zeridheavens and the four Camlahi ships watching the skirmish from afar spoke through Leaks.

“Fourteen Etens, beyond repair... Fully lost.”

“I can’t believe it. The renowned Balandias Fleet, destroyed by a single man?”

“What is he? He must have surpassed the level of a ruler from the shallows long ago.”

“The power to swing two Etens around freely... Most rulers wouldn’t stand a chance against him!”

“The Demon King of Tyranny, Anos Voldigoad...”

“Is it really a coincidence that he’s called a Demon King too?”

“If I recall correctly, there was a Demon King who went missing... Is it possible...”

An innumerable number of Magic Eyes tried to stare into my abyss. Kaltinas’s angry voice immediately shouted over them. “You fools! Smother your cowardice at once! Don’t you dare feel an ounce of awe for him. Getting swept up by the enemy only makes him appear stronger than he actually is! Use your minds and think: A misfit from an ephemeral world, as strong as a Demon King? Why would one of the Inviolable Waters dominating the depths need to play a misfit in the ephemeral shallows?! Engage your common sense!”

“Common sense?” the castle lord of Camlahi Two objected angrily. “With all due respect, Immovable King, what use is common sense here? We just witnessed what we thought was impossible! His magic power is nothing like that of any of the rulers from the shallows we have previously faced! What kind of common sense would explain how one demon took down fourteen Eten ships?!”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s a Demon King or not,” the castle lord of Camlahi Three said. “What we’re saying is that there may be some credibility to his name. At the very least, he has the strength to back it up.”

“It may not be a coincidence that Hyphoria’s Sword of Three Races is in their hands either. We may have had the wrong idea about them,” Camlahi Four’s castle lord added. “We underestimated him as a misfit of the shallows, but a misfit ruler of a miniature world is unprecedented. What if it wasn’t that the chief god of Militia’s World was weak, but that the misfit was too strong?”

“Their miniature world developed in an unprecedented way. We should assume they’re at least on the same level as Balandias, or the tables may turn on us,” Camlahi Three’s lord said in agreement.

“This is utter nonsense!” Kaltinas raged. “He’s just an idiot! He didn’t even know what the term ‘Demon King’ meant! And now all of you are suggesting the ruler of an ephemeral world is on the same level as us?! You dare look down on us as a castle lord of Balandias?!”

“Wh-What? That’s not what I’m saying at all!” the castle lord of Camlahi Three sputtered.

“Who do you think we are? That’s right, the Immovable King Kaltinas. The man who will conquer the Sacred Silverwater Seas someday! We are not some coward who will falter because an ephemeral world ruler is a little stronger than expected! Remember that!” Kaltinas spat, scolding his subordinates. “Now go! Ships two, three, and four! Show them the strength of the Sky Fortress Camlahi, the fine castles equal in quality to Zeridheavens!”

But despite the Immovable King’s commands, none of the four Sky Fortress Camlahi moved. Instead, they observed me warily.

“What’s wrong? Go already! His arrogance in bringing down a few Eten is blinding him. Show him who has the real power!”

Kaltinas repeated his commands, but the Camlahi remained still.

“Immovable King. The enemy is not just a mere ruler of an ephemeral world. After losing this many castles, you should already understand he is not the kind of opponent who will be cowed by brute force. We’ve misjudged his strength. You need to admit this truth,” Camlahi Two’s castle lord advised Kaltinas firmly.

“Hah. So you’ve chickened out, is that it? To think the castle lord of Camlahi Two could be such a coward!” Kaltinas said with an exaggerated sigh.

“What?! How can you still say that at this time...”

The castle lord’s reply was taut with despair. Yet Kaltinas failed to realize it himself.

“Our Balandias Fleet will never lose!” the castle lord of Camlahi Two exclaimed. “But that is only as long as the Sky Fortress Zeridheavens stands! If you had been taking proper command from the start, we wouldn’t have lost seventeen Etens!”

“You...” the Immovable King’s voice shook with fury. “You dare speak to us, your ruler, in that tone?! Enough. You cowardly castle lords are the shame of Balandias. Alight from your castles immediately!”

“Then we will do the same!” the castle lord of Camlahi Three said.

“What?”

“No more. We’re fed up with your selfishness, Lord Kaltinas. We’ve held our silence until now for the sake of Balandias, and have remained castle lords to protect our ruler. But all we’ve gained for our loyalty is an ill reputation for our world. We did not become castle lords to commit foul play against shallow-level worlds who know nothing of the Silverwater Seas!”

“You still dare to spout such delusional ideals?! Who do you think brought Balandias to the twenty-first deep-level?! It was we, the Immovable King, who performed such a feat!” Kaltinas snapped.

“But we haven’t taken a single step forwards since,” said the castle lord of Camlahi Four. “We cannot go any further with your dirty ways exploiting the weak. No world will allow Balandias to rise to Holy Six in such a manner!”

“Do you know what they say about Tigrisfort Academy? They call us paper-mache tigers! A world that cheated its way to the depths by preying on the weak! We are all masters of our own castles in Balandias. We cannot stand this humiliation!” exclaimed the castle lord of Camlahi Three.

“Feel free to dismiss us if you so wish,” added the castle lord of Camlahi Two. “As of this moment, we will all alight from our ships and hand over our insignia—to the Demon King Academy.”

“Wha...”

Kaltinas fell speechless. I could just picture him losing his composure.

“You... Do you realize what that means?” he asked slowly.

In response, Zaimon broke his silence. “Defeat in the Silverwater Skirmish Ranking, and expulsion from the academic alliance. Are you sure you want that?”

Kaltinas ground his teeth. “Zaimon... Of course. This is your doing.”

“For so long we have committed dishonorable sneak attacks in the name of Balandias. But that ends now. Stealing firedew like a petty thief may crown a king of bandits, but it’ll never crown a true conqueror!” Zaimon said without masking his words. “Answer me, Immovable King. Will you dismiss us or not?”

Kaltinas didn’t answer immediately—he couldn’t. Doing so would ruin everything he had built up until now. That was not something he could admit easily.

When he eventually spoke, his voice was trembling.

“Good grief. Why are you all so worthless?Nothing pleases you. In the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish, we cannot lay your hands on you, for we wish to remain in Pablohetra. But what do you all intend to do now?” Kaltinas asked the rebelling castle lords sharply. “Don’t forget. We are the ruler of this world, chosen by the Royal Tiger Maytilen. Even if every vassal rebels, Balandias is still under our control. If you still think you shall remain a castle lord after this skirmish is concluded, think again—for your treasonous words we shall have each and every member of your families put to death!”

Kaltinas, in response to this sudden mutiny, did an about face and threatened Zaimon’s weaknesses instead. The ruler of Balandias had absolute power—that was why the castle demons had been forced to be so careful with their words for so long.

“Got it now? We’ll give you three seconds for all of you to get on your knees and beg us for mercy, and we’ll deign to use you for the rest of your lives,” Kaltinas said with a mocking laugh. He believed Zaimon and the castle lords had no choice but to obey—that they would choose to save their families over preserving their pride.

“Three.”

None of the castle demons moved. They all held their silence, as though they’d known this would happen from the moment they planned their rebellion, and accepted it. They hadn’t defied the Immovable King in the middle of a Silverwater Ranking Skirmish without giving it much thought.

The Immovable King had ordered the Leaks channel to stay open, but I doubt he would have chosen to leave it open for broadcast once their channel revealed such clear internal conflict. Zaimon’s faction was almost certainly sending it to us on purpose, to inform us of the situation and keep us quiet while they resolved it. They seemed to have a plan.

“Two.”

The castle demons didn’t move. It was like their non-reaction was a declaration of their firm resolution.

“One.”

They didn’t say a word, and didn’t move their castles at all. It was like they were waiting for something—someone.

“Gah! You—” Kaltinas suddenly cried out in agony. “Urk... Maytilen... Why...”

The sound of a magic circle deploying could be heard. Several seconds of silence later—

“Rest assured, everyone,” Farris’s voice echoed through Leaks. “The Evil King Kaltinas has been defeated. Balandias now rests safely in our hands.”

The Tigrisfort Academy immediately burst into a chorus of deafening cheers. Voices could be heard from the five ships even without the Leaks connection, shaking even the air. For them to react like this over the death of their ruler was a clear sign of how oppressed they had felt serving him.

The castle lords yelled in unison, cheering among themselves.

“He did it! The Silvercastle Creator did it!”

“Our hope, our wings!”

“I believed in Farris all along. I knew he’d pick up his sword for us!”

“We’re finally freed from Kaltinas’s tyranny!”

“We’re free again!”

“Yes! Finally, finally! Balandias has returned to us!”

“It’s the birth of Ruler Farris! He will lead Balandias down the right path!”

“Hooray for Ruler Farris! Hooray!”

“Hooray!”

“Ruler Farris!”

“Hooray!”

“Whoooooooooooo!”

The castle lords were so jubilant in their celebration that they had forgotten completely about the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish.

Everything was proceeding according to Zaimon’s plan. During the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish, Kaltinas was bound to be on board Zeridheavens. There was a limit to the number of insignias that could be present during the skirmish, so the surroundings were guaranteed to be filled with castle demons. With the insignias hostage, Kaltinas could neither run nor flee. Farris, who piloted Zeridheavens, was guaranteed to be near Kaltinas.

Though Kaltinas had been wary of rebellion, he hadn’t expected the chief god to betray him as well. The entire time, he had believed Maytilen’s barrier would protect him, allowing Farris to catch him off guard.

Judging from the conversation I’d overheard earlier, Zaimon had taken a gamble with Farris. If Farris hadn’t joined them in their rebellion, all of them would have been murdered along with their families. Zaimon had shown his resolve, just like he said he would.

“Farris,” Zaimon said. “I knew you had it in you, comrade.”

“It’s still too early to celebrate, Zaimon,” Farris said calmly.

“Yes, you’re right. We’re still in the middle of the ranking skirmish after all.”

With Zeridheavens in the center and the four Camlahi ships flanking it, five sky fortresses then flew towards us. Their morale was clearly different from before—so different, in fact, it could be felt from the deluge of magic power being emitted from Zeridheavens and the four Camlahi ships.

“Here we go, Militia’s World! Even if your ruler can rival a true Demon King, we no longer have anything to fear! Witness the true worth of Balandias!” Zaimon shouted in triumph, consequently inspiring his brothers-in-arms.

§ 32. To My Comrade from Two Thousand Years Ago

From the ground came a sound like crashing thunder.

“Anos!” Lay shouted. A castle hurtled towards me.

“Hmm. Perfect timing,” I said, catching one of the last remaining Eten ships that had just been pierced with Evansmana. “Send the other remaining ship here too.”

As soon as I said that, Lay took a step straight forwards and pierced another Eten’s castle walls with his sword, sending it flying through the air with its magic power.

“Haaah!” Lay cried out.

“A-All crew, abandon ship!” voices yelled from the open holes of the ship, followed by the glowing light of Gatom.

I caught the unmanned ship in my left hand, making a total of twenty fallen Etens. I glared at Zeridheavens and the four Camlahi approaching me.

“Let’s see this true worth you speak of,” I said, spinning with the two castles in hand.

“Send support fire,” Eldmed immediately instructed.

The Demon King Express behind me pointed its cannons at the approaching fleet of sky fortresses. Magic circles of cogs spun rapidly.

“Target aligned!”

“Here goes!”

“Boros Hetheus!” the Fan Union shouted.

Ancient wheels fired towards the remaining Balandias Fleet, curving through the air. Camlahi Two’s turrets opened fire in return. The Veylonbosm directly hit the wheels, diverting them slightly off course. The third ship deployed Badirahier from afar. Boros Hetheus dug into the barrier without being able to impact the ship, allowing them to overtake the wheels.

Farris had probably commanded it. His Magic Eyes were as sharp as ever.

“How about this then?” I said, turning like a tornado with the giant fortresses in hand as I charged into their formation.

“Zaimon Epala, Fearless Fortslasher of Camlahi One, hereby challenges you!”

Camlahi One moved forwards to engage me. Just before the castle crashed into the Eten I was swinging around, a magic circle covered the entire outer wall.

“Drawing sword! Gazdema!”

Giant castle swords extended from the entirety of Camlahi One.

“Raaaaaah!”

Camlahi One spun like a spinning top, rivaling my tornado and boldly crashing into the sky fortresses I held in my hands. Gazdema slashed the two sky fortresses down the middle, breaking my weapon into pieces.

“Bwa ha ha. Not bad,” I said.

“Zaimon has opened the path. Follow his lead!” said the castle lord of Camlahi Four.

While I was clashing with the first ship, three other ships shot past the Demon King Express and me, charging straight for the ground.

“Aiming for Lay, I see.”

I drew a Dogda Azbedra magic circle aimed at the first ship. But the next moment, something crashed into my body, sending me flying.

“Oh?”

I hadn’t seen anything. There was no magic activation, just a sudden impact against my body. This power...

“All resistance is futile. Balandias now lies on firm foundations,” the Royal Tiger Maytilen said, flying before me. “This is my world, inside a castle governed by the Royal Tiger. No matter how strong you are, you do not stand a chance against us.”

“Are your foundations really that firm?” I asked, making Maytilen glare at me. “I think you’re lying.”

“Drown in your tears of regret, brat.”

Maytilen shot through the air with lightning speed. I followed her with my Magic Eyes as another impact sent me flying.

“Interesting power,” I said.

“Isn’t it? But as we speak you’re being tossed farther and farther from your frail follower on the ground.”

The next moment, my chest was suddenly and instantly slashed open from a swipe of claws, blood dripping from the wounds.

“Zeridheavens approaching,” Misha’s voice warned through Leaks. It wasn’t directed to me, but the engine room. I could see the Sky Fortress Zeridheavens and Demon King Express Beltexfenblem in the distance.

“Bwa ha ha! So the time has come to fight that ship. How exceedingly enthralling, exciting, and exhilarating!” Eldmed cheered.

Wheels shot out of the Demon King Express, while Zeridheavens fired its fire cannons. The sky fortress designed to freely traverse the skies dodged the Demon King Express’s attacks with ease while simultaneously wearing down our barrier.

On the ground, Camlahi One, Two, Three, and Four had Lay surrounded under a barrage of Veylonbosm. Whenever Lay tried to approach one, it backed away faster than he could move, constantly staying out of Evansmana’s reach.

“Sword of Three Races, second hidden art—” Lay stepped firmly against the ground and leaped up, thrusting the Sword of Three Races forwards. “Sky Piercer!”

A divine light wrapped around Lay’s body and sword, turning them into a beam of light. The radiance of the hidden art was nothing like when it was in Militia’s World—it swallowed the barrage of spellfire in blinding light, moving faster than Camlahi Two could travel.

Lay focused his magic on Fless to outspeed Camlahi Two. But their reaction time was still quite fast, and they managed to shift so that the Sword of Three Races grazed only the outer wall.

“That should do it— What?!”

Shocked voices spilled through the Leaks of Camlahi Two as their magic circle was damaged along with the outer wall. Sky Piecer had barely grazed it, but that had been enough to blow half the sky fortress away.

“All it did was graze us...yet Camlahi Two is...”

Lay’s gaze fixed on the castle lord of the wall-less Camlahi Two. He took a step forwards—then fell to his knees.

“Guh...”

He stabbed the Sword of Three Races into the ground to try to push himself up, but his legs, completely void of strength, would not obey him. Through the use of his hidden art, Evansmana’s awakening had progressed even further, making it much stronger—and harder for Lay to control—than before.

“Urgh...”

Lay clenched his teeth at the pain. Just holding the sword had blown one of his sources away. He was no longer able to control the rampaging magic power of the sword, and now it was eating away at his body.

“Now’s our chance! Fire! Fire, even if your castle falls apart!” shouted the castle lord of Camlahi Three.

Concentrated Veylonbosm fire rained on Lay. Although he had the Sword of Three Races braced to shield himself, the holy sword itself was now eating away at him.

“Ship one, charge!” Zaimon’s voice echoed.

Countless Gazdema castle swords extended from Camlahi One.

Farris knew about Hero Kanon. He knew that Hero Kanon, with the help of the Sword of Three Races, was renowned for his ability to overcome impossible odds, and so he had decided to finish things with the next blow. The giant sky fortress lowered to fly inches from the ground as it rushed at Lay.

“How unfortunate. Without the Sword of Three Races, that train over there is as good as gone. I won’t even need to defeat you to settle this,” Maytilen said, claws glinting silver.

“Don’t underestimate my subordinates,” I said.

The next moment, lightning traveled up Camlahi One’s wing, creating a large explosion.

“Urk! Serious damage detected in the right wing!”

“That can’t be! Nothing hit us!”

Having lost one wing, Camlahi One veered away from Lay, brushing against the ground several times. It almost crashed multiple times before it managed to right itself.

“Th-There was a brief magic reaction! It’s coming from the inside! The enemy has infiltrated Camlahi One and has gained control over a portion of the magic circuits! This signal may be audible to them!” a castle demon reported.

“Was it when we slashed the Etens their ruler was holding?” Zaimon asked. “No wonder he let us pass so easily... It was to sneak his subordinates on board.”

Hmm. He’d figured that out rather quickly.

“Direct all Magic Eyes internally. Find the invader!” Zaimon ordered.

“There’s one signal in the engine area, and one in the bridge...here... Gah!”

I switched to the vision of my follower who had infiltrated Camlahi One—Shin. He was in the bridge, dispelling Misa’s Titegenne to reveal himself standing with one of his demon swords stabbed into a soldier of the Tigrisfort Academy. He pulled back the sword, the soldier crumbling to the ground. Shin stared straight at Zaimon, the castle lord of Camlahi One.

“The rest of you search for the other invader,” Zaimon ordered. He drew his castle sword and faced Shin. The rest of his crew immediately began repairing Camlahi One and searching for the invader. Their instant obedience demonstrated their utmost faith that the Fearless Fortslasher Zaimon Epala, top student of their academy, could handle a single intruder alone.

“Do you have a sword prepared?” Zaimon asked.

“No,” Shin replied.

“I see. I commend your resolution. So you shall shield the man with the Sword of Three Races until he recovers,” Zaimon said sharply. “That will not come to pass. I will end this too quickly for it to happen.”

In a single lunge, Shin stepped within reach of Zaimon’s blade, swinging his demon sword down.

“Too slow.” Zaimon swung his castle sword several times faster than Shin with the intent to break his demon sword, but only cut through the air. “What?!”

One beat later, Shin’s slow sword slashed Zaimon’s shoulder.

“Urk!”

A dull sound like metal grinding against stone echoed across the bridge. Zaimon’s body was extremely solid—Shin’s sword had only taken off a thin layer of skin, and in doing so, snapped entirely. But Shin simply discarded the broken demon sword with a rather unsurprised expression on his face, as if he had expected this result.

“I do not plan on buying time for him. Sword techniques like his rely on brute force; the most he can cut are huge targets like your castles.” Shin drew a magic circle and pulled out another demon sword. “You people are weak.”

“I was unfamiliar with your move the first time. Do it again.”

Shin stepped forwards once more. Zaimon watched the trajectory of his sword until the last possible moment, drawing the blade towards him before his castle sword flashed in response.

“Guh!”

The slow demon sword slipped past Zaimon’s rapid sword for a second time, this time striking him directly in the head. Blood dripped down his face, with Shin’s sword snapping in half once more.

“I don’t understand art. That’s why I always disliked him,” Shin said quietly. “He constantly slighted my liege’s orders, never stood watch seriously, and in the middle of the battlefield never failed to set up his canvas instead of fight. He let more enemies get away than I can count. He always hesitated to strike the killing blow, and in doing so constantly exposed his own allies to danger. That was the kind of naive man Farris Noin was.”

Shin drew another new demon sword. Zaimon’s Magic Eyes glinted as he tried to see into the abyss of his moves.

“That’s all in the past now,” Zaimon said. “The current Farris has overcome that naivety. He has picked up his sword and defeated the evil king of an oppressive rule on his own! It happened right before your eyes!”

“But despite everything,” Shin said, as if Zaimon had never spoken, “my liege loved his naivety and accepted him for who he was.”

Shin took another three steps forwards. Zaimon’s castle sword flashed in an attempt to overpower him with speed. But this time, his sword passed through Shin’s body, slicing through thin air.

“Guh...”

Shin used his third demon sword to slash Zaimon across the chest, the blade snapping immediately.

“A simple painter, forced to pick up a sword and coerced to become king. To live in such a weak and inflexible world must have made him truly miserable.”

Shin drew a new sword from a magic circle and pointed the tip at Zaimon.

“You watch from over there, Farris,” he said coldly, addressing his former comrade. “Watch as I slice apart the cowardly world that forced you to put down your brush.”

§ 33. Sense of Sword

Shin and Zaimon faced each other with their swords held at the ready.

“Cowardly?” Zaimon repeated with a murderous look.

“Yes.” Shin watched closely as Zaimon slowly closed the gap between them. “A world so unreasonable that it couldn’t grant one simple wish to draw. A world full of submissive castle lords who meekly obey such absurdity without question. What would you call it if not cowardly?”

With one last step forwards Zaimon swung his castle sword. But he was immediately overcome with an odd feeling; the distance between had not changed. He had definitely moved forwards, yet he hadn’t gotten any closer to Shin.

What he was feeling was a result of Shin’s walking technique, which reduced the beginning of his motions to practically nothing. With no preliminary signs of his movements to be detected, he was able to move his feet in a way that allowed him to control his distance from another without his opponents noticing.

By reading Zaimon’s breathing patterns, Shin could tell when he was about to step forwards and move backwards accordingly. The time it took for Zaimon to perceive what was happening skewed his perception and threw him slightly off-kilter.

“How fitting for the so-called Silvercastle World,” Shin said, “to have soldiers so cowardly they can’t even step out of the cover of their castles.”

Shin’s demon sword stabbed into Zaimon’s Magic Eye. Just as the blade was about to pierce his pupil, the sword snapped first. A small trickle of blood oozed from Zaimon’s Eye.

“Farris chose to fight. This is an insult to him,” Zaimon said. His body suddenly split into two—not magic, but an afterimage. He appeared to be moving unhurried, but he was actually moving around at a high speed to make Shin see such an illusion.

Movement techniques could be countered by movement techniques. He was trying to turn the tables on Shin by disturbing his breathing and sense of distance instead.

“We were waiting for the true king of Balandias to appear,” Zaimon said. “We bit our tongues, endured humiliation upon humiliation, and disgraced ourselves, never once unsheathing our castle swords. You may call us cowards for that, but that was our fight—the fight to keep our very souls as castle demons! A castle cannot be built with pride alone!”

Zaimon and his clone rushed at Shin. His thrusting attack was faster than the eye could follow, but still seemingly passed through Shin’s body once again. But something was different this time; blood was dripping down Shin’s cheek. He hadn’t evaded it perfectly.

“My brother-in-arms, Farris, was waiting for a light. He was too kind and gentle to even imagine himself as the ruler. That’s why we had to prove it to him! We showed him we were willing to give our lives to him, because only he has the capacity to become our ruler!”

Zaimon’s speed increased once more. The top student of the deep-level world Balandias was several times faster than Shin, dominating Shin’s vision with his clone.

“And so Farris responded with his soul! He chose to fight, slew Kaltinas, and proved his determination to build the true Silvercastle of Balandias in the Sacred Silverwater Sea! Now our conquest is unstoppable!”

His clones, now six in total, all launched a flurry of attacks that were too fast to see. With every passing second Shin acquired more injuries, more blood spilling from his wounds. His movement technique allowed him to avoid any fatal blows, but Zaimon was too fast for him to counterattack. His clothes were quickly dyed red with his blood, but the look in Shin’s eyes was still sharp.

“You say you risked your lives to prove his capacity?” Shin’s body began to tremble. He started walking forwards in a way that further distorted Zaimon’s perception. “You were just threatening him by holding your own lives hostage.”

Shin evaded Zaimon’s attack at the last second, thrusting his sword at Zaimon’s chest. On the first try, he caught Zaimon’s true body, stopping him in his tracks. From the wound, blood poured out, Shin’s demon sword shattering soon after.

“If Farris hadn’t decided to take down Kaltinas, all of you castle lords would have been massacred along with your families. Yet you still claim he made his decision of his own free will?”

Zaimon glared at Shin from point-blank range.

“He’s a greedy man. Greedy enough to seek peace in an era of war,” Shin said.

“That’s why he chose the path of conquest,” Zaimon replied.

“Have you not considered that he was waiting for a light as well?”

Zaimon slashed his sword diagonally downwards. “If you want something done, you do it yourself! He is the most suited for the role! If he walks the path of conquest, he’ll reach the light either way.”

He then executed a series of high-speed slashes that shallowly cut across Shin’s chest. In response, Shin drew a new demon sword from a magic circle.

“Those who walk the path of conquest cannot see their own backs,” Shin replied. Though Zaimon’s sword swung at the speed of a hundred cuts in a single breath, Shin still passed through it, appearing behind him. “How do you paint something you cannot see?”

Shin thrust his demon sword at Zaimon’s back.

“Anyone can look upon themselves with their Magic Eyes. If he really wanted to draw, he could have done it at any time,” Zaimon replied, watching the demon sword pointed at him.

“I completely agree.”

“What?”

“You’re just like me. You don’t get it either.”

Shin thrust down his demon sword, the Karmic Fire Blade, while simultaneously invoking the sword’s fifth hidden art, Roaring Hellfire. The now shapeless, fiery blade coiled around Zaimon like a snake, refusing to snap no matter how tough his body was and how it bucked against the attack. It broke through layers of his anti-magic wards, scorching his skin and flesh.

“Balandialtar,” Zaimon said.

The highest grade of Balandias’s castle construction magic created an armor around him that resembled a castle, erasing Shin’s blade of fire easily.

“Karmic Fire Blade, sixth hidden art—”

Shin aimed his blade of fire at the neck of the armor, where there was a gap.

“Red-Hot Crimson.”

A crimson blade, so hot it could burn the source itself, touched Zaimon’s neck—and bounced back. Not only did the blade vanish, but the hilt in Shin’s hand was erased as well.

“Is this the best you can do?” Zaimon muttered in clear disappointment. “I expected more from a former comrade of Farris, but it seems I worried over nothing.”

Clad in his castle armor, Zaimon leaped forwards. Shin drew a new demon sword and swung it down, but it was easily knocked away by Zaimon’s castle sword. At the same time, Shin’s thigh was slashed open, blood seeping from the wound.

“If flowery words alone could change the world, I would speak until my throat was torn to shreds!” Zaimon yelled.

The situation had turned instantly: Shin’s shoulder was slashed, his cheek was cut, and his abdomen was stabbed through in quick succession. He had been cornered.

“It was Farris who realized that his drawings could save no one! He himself could see that Balandias would only stabilize with a strong castle—one that would not yield to anyone!”

Now with the knowledge that even Shin’s strongest attack against him would not be fatal, Zaimon charged forwards without any consideration for distance or breathing, leaving his protection solely to Balandialtar. It was an attack that discarded all defense, its purpose only to weaken the effect of Shin’s skills and techniques.

“Your words are the same as your swords! Your enemies may have been swayed by their beauty, but there’s no weight, speed, or power behind them. A man who can’t even cut down a single soldier like me cannot cut down Balandias!”

Shin attempted to draw out another demon sword with his left hand, but Zaimon moved faster to slice the magic circle apart. At the same moment, the demon sword in Shin’s right hand passed through the gap of Zaimon’s armor. A dull metallic thud rang through the air, but not even a single layer of the armor had been torn.

“See? This is reality. This is the order of the world. If you’re going to preach about how wrong we are, we’ll just have to prove ourselves right and cut you down.”

“Those are just excuses to run away from your true enemy—order. Stop using your weakness as a weapon to control your allies,” Shin said in reply. “True warriors stand together before their enemies.”

“Stop talking already.”

Zaimon swung his castle sword, which Shin blocked using his own demon blade. Another dull clash later, Shin’s body was thrown back through the air from the overwhelming difference in physical power. In the next moment, Zaimon’s magic power vanished as he grabbed his castle sword with his source.

“Castle Slasher, first hidden art—”

The moment Shin landed on the ground, a surge of magic was released from Castle Slasher’s downwards strike.

“Winter Wind Strike.”

The diagonal slash was so fast, it was impossible to see. The longsword cut Shin across the body, from his shoulder down to the opposite hip.

“You’ll never utter such foolish ideals again.”

With a swift flick of his blade, Zaimon whipped the blood off of Castle Slasher and sheathed it. He turned his back to Shin, and, as if on cue, Shin’s battered body, now severed in two, began to slide out of place. But then Shin’s arm moved. He drew a demon sword out of a magic circle and stabbed it into his body, pinning himself in place.

“That hidden art just now was pretty good,” Shin said. The sword he had drawn was the Restoration Sword Keheth, a demon sword capable of healing wounds. He pulled out another one and stitched his sliding body together.

“Surely now you understand the difference between us,” Zaimon said, turning back to look at him. “It’s not a gap that can be closed through desperation alone.”

“Thanks to us crossing swords, I’m starting to get used to this world now.”

Zaimon drew the Castle Slasher from its sheath again. “Getting used to it won’t help you get stronger.”

He took a step forwards for another fearless charge, fully relying on Balandialtar for defense. In essence, it was a simple, brute move that used pure power to seal Shin’s various techniques.

“Especially not,” Zaimon added, “with that half-dead body!”

The Castle Slasher came swinging down mercilessly, but this time, Shin deflected it with his demon sword.

“What?!” Zaimon exclaimed.

Two, three, then four more blows were rapidly exchanged. Shin kept up with each one.

“Tch!”

Zaimon picked up speed, coming up behind Shin at his fastest speed yet.

“How wasteful,” Shin said. “All these moves relying on nothing but speed.”

The screech of clashing metal echoed throughout the sky fortress. Zaimon’s Castle Slasher went spinning through the air, eventually stabbing into the ground some distance away.

“Have you been holding back all this time?” Zaimon asked.

“No. Like I said, I’m just finally getting used to things.” Shin took a step forwards, swinging his sword.

Zaimon leaped aside close enough to his Castle Slasher to grab it. “Familiarity won’t make you stronger or faster.”

Zaimon’s Magic Eyes glinted. He was finally trying to look into the abyss of Shin’s sword abilities that were now on par with his own.

“Not by swinging with brute force, no.” Shin brought his demon sword down from over his head, clashing with Zaimon’s sword. Zaimon’s knees buckled under the incredible weight behind Shin’s blade.

“Second Balandias is located on a deeper level than Militia’s World,” Shin said, “so the weight of the sword, magic field, and air all interact differently.”

“Which should mean you can’t move freely...”

“That’s where you’re mistaken. What it means is that in Second Balandias, my sword is faster and heavier than it would be in Militia’s World.” Shin pushed harder, forcing Zaimon’s knees to buckle further. Zaimon managed to redirect the force of Shin’s blade to the side and retreated backwards.

Shin continued. “If I swing my sword according to my senses, not by the rules of our worlds, all those shackles would be inverted. Therefore, the weight and magic field here will allow my sword to move faster, heavier, and with more power.”

Zaimon’s sword thrust forwards in the shortest possible maneuver to intercept Shin’s approach. Shin’s demon sword, in response, took a long and complex route towards Zaimon’s blade. Considering the distance, Zaimon should have been faster, but Shin’s sword was still the first to reach its target.

“Guh!”

Shin’s demon blade stabbed into the gaps of Zaimon’s armor. Shin still couldn’t cut the skin, but the dull pain made Zaimon frown.

“In this world, that order of castle construction must be the strongest order there is. It would make the most sense to use a sword that cuts precisely just castles of order. If that condition is fulfilled, there is no need for power.”

“In Balandias, castles are stronger than swords. What you’re saying is impossible...”

“Then strain your Eyes and look into the abyss of my sword.”

Shin pushed his sword harder towards Zaimon. His demon sword moved with a weight and speed several times heavier and faster than he could have moved it in Militia’s World, as though it was being boosted by the order of Balandias rather than being weighed down.

“Grrruuuh!”

“When the order of swords is at its greatest and the order of castles is at its weakest, the two overlap and tear apart order itself. That is the sense of the sword.”

Being able to perceive that single point was already a difficult feat, but to go further and be able to manipulate it and tear it apart was nearly impossible. It wasn’t just a matter of being fast or strong. It was only when a move made perfect sense that the slash of Shin’s demon sword could cut down order.

Weight, magic field, air—at this point in the battle, all the shackles of order sided with the sword instead. Zaimon had more power, speed, and magic than Shin currently, but the brute force of Shin’s sword was no match for him. If it were Militia’s World, Lay could do something similar. Eventually, through physical repetition of the action with his body and sources, he could have come to understand the right way to swing his sword to achieve a similar effect.

But the only one of my followers who could do that now—and easily—while still new to an unfamiliar world like Second Balandias was Shin.

“Gah... Urk!”

Zaimon embedded his legs into the floor to stand his ground against Shin’s attack with a release of magic power, coughing up blood from the strain. His left hand reached for Shin’s demon sword—and grasped it.

“The moment your sword comes to a stop, you’re just asking for it to be broken!”

Zaimon swung his Castle Slasher at Shin’s blade with all his might. But while the blade chipped, it didn’t snap completely.

“How...?”

“It didn’t break earlier either,” Shin pointed out. “This demon sword is the only one that won’t break.”

Shin took a step forwards with a thrust of his blade through the gaps of Zaimon’s armor, blood leaking through the gaps immediately after.

“Veylonbosm!”

Zaimon fired explosive flames at Shin from close range. It looked like they made direct contact, but Zaimon’s eyes only narrowed harshly. Shin had drawn his demon sword out of Zaimon’s abdomen and used it to block the Veylonbosm.

Zaimon sidestepped while continuing to fire Veylonbosm, with Shin promptly cutting down each blast of flame.

“What is that demon sword?” Zaimon asked.

“The Castlefall Sword Mezberetta. It can only cut castles and doesn’t have much of an edge, so I rarely ever draw it in Militia’s World.”

Swirling flames were sliced apart with an explosive sound.

“But it seems it’s quite a good matchup for Balandias.”

Shin was against a castle demon in the Silvercastle World—his opponent was essentially a castle. Even when a sword slipped through the gaps of Zaimon’s armor, his skin, reinforced by Balandialtar, couldn’t be pierced. Zaimon’s essence as a castle allowed him to be enhanced through castle construction magic.

All throughout their battle, Shin had probably noticed the slight difference in performance in each demon sword he drew compared to in Militia’s World. He had pulled out the Castlefall Sword to test his theory, and it turned out to be Balandias’s critical weakness.

“Impossible. Your chief god’s order is rotation. The order of wheels and turbines. How could you have a demon sword that opposes Balandias’s order so perfectly?”

“That’s just a vehicle.”

“Don’t play the fool. Your ruler was just spinning like a top!”

“My liege was merely turning on a whim. Nothing more.”

“On a whim?!” Zaimon’s eyes widened as Shin ran through the next Veylonbosm to reach him. “You can’t fool me with such lies!”

Zaimon’s Castle Slasher flashed. His target was the Restoration Sword holding Shin’s body together. The wound from the Winter Wind Strike had yet to be healed, so destroying the demon sword would render Shin immobile. But Mezberetta moved faster than the flash, knocking the Castle Slasher away.

Using his refined sense of sword, Shin had swung Mezberetta down, chipping the blade in the process of wounding Zaimon’s neck. Zaimon withstood the attack and swung his castle sword again.

“Castle Slasher, first hidden art—”

The invisible slash was released at close range.

“Castlefall Sword, third hidden art—”

At the same time, Shin turned on the spot, releasing his demon sword’s power.

“Winter Wind Strike.”

A large magic power wrapped around Mezberetta, turning it into a siege weapon that could destroy ramparts.

“Battering Ram.”

With a thundering sound much like a ram smashing into a wall, the Castle Slasher left Zaimon’s hand. Shin’s Battering Ram had stabbed Zaimon’s abdomen before Zaimon’s invisible slash could reach him. The armor of Balandialtar crumbled to pieces, with the blade of the Castlefall Sword shattering at the same time. Although the blade was designed to target the weakness of the Silvercastle World, it was still a demon sword from the shallows, and after Shin cast Battering Ram, it could no longer withstand the impact of another blow.

“Unfortunately for you,” Zaimon said, hand grabbing the Restoration Sword in Shin’s body. The magic circle for Veylonbosm appeared. “It’s my wi—”

Zaimon stopped abruptly, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Shin was holding Zaimon’s Castle Slasher, pointing it back at him.

“Winter Wind Strike.”

The invisible slash cut through the interior walls of the castle as Zaimon’s head went flying.

“The hidden art...of the Castle Slasher you just picked up... How...”

His body fell, his head rolling on the ground. Shin stood beside him, and with a slash of his new sword, used Castle Slasher to remove the Pablohetra insignia on his uniform, sending it into the air.

“I will say it as many times as it takes,” Shin said to the immobile Zaimon, catching the insignia midair. “You’ve been using order as an excuse to run away from reality.”

§ 34. The Natural Enemy of a Chief God

The skies of Second Balandias.

The Royal Tiger Maytilen soared through the air in all directions.

“That should be enough of a warm-up. Come, show me what you’ve got,” she said, suddenly blurring and appearing right before me. “Or I’ll eat you.”

She widened her jaw, showing off a set of sharp teeth. I shoved my right fist into her open mouth right as it tried to close over my head.

“Eat all you want.” I drew a magic circle inside the Royal Tiger’s body, firing Dogda Azbedra. With a thunderous noise blue stars ignited inside Maytilen’s body, sending countless sparks flying like fireworks.

“I knew it,” Maytilen said as she was thrown through the air, grinning. “Kaltinas’s words cannot be trusted. Dogda Azbedra, of all spells? Using that isn’t just a mere matter of upstream formulas.”

She turned herself midair, remaining afloat without a hint of surprise on her face.

“Whom did you learn it from, brat?”

“Oh, just someone I passed by in the forest.”

I drew ten magic circles and fired more blue stars. They curved towards Maytilen in four directions, sealing her escape route, but a flash of silver claws swiftly dispersed them.

Her paws hadn’t swung just now. The claw marks had just appeared out of nowhere, erasing the Dogda Azbedra I had drawn in her body too.

“You’re hiding something,” she said, Divine Eyes glaring at me. “You’re new to the silver seas, yet you’ve learned magic deeper than Balandias and have Evansmana in your possession. Have you secretly allied with the Holy Sword World Hyphoria? Or perhaps their bitter enemy, the Ruinous Abyss World Evezeino?”

She ran through the air while lobbing questions at me.

“One of the deep-level worlds must have armed you with deep magic and the Sword of Three Races before sending you to Pablohetra. There are many in the alliance who’d underestimate an ephemeral world.”

“I won’t fault you for suspecting a backer, Maytilen, but have you considered that I’m simply just strong?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. If you value your life, speak up now.” Maytilen’s front claws gleamed silver. “Or you’ll be torn apart with these Silverclaws of Ruin. These claws can bring down even castles.”

Maytilen’s body then shot forwards like a bolt of light. I caught her from the front with both hands, but the next moment, silver claw marks ran across my back. She hadn’t touched me there, yet her claws had ignored my wards and slashed all the way to my source, sending fresh blood pouring out along with the blood of the Demon King.

The wounds from my battle with Loncruz hadn’t healed fully. Inside me, my source of destruction was rampaging.

“Such a sturdy ruler for an ephemeral world. Such a nuisance.”

The magic power of a god flickered in the corner of my eye. It didn’t belong to the Royal Tiger—it was the dome that covered Second Balandias outside of Ottolulu’s water barrier. And attached to the dome, standing upside down, was a long castle, glowing silver. The castle extended downwards from the dome to the ground, enclosing the entire world within its walls before rising back to the top. It was like a castle ring that covered the entirety of the miniature world. A second ring intersected with the first.

“Hmm. So that long castle is your power.”

“You finally noticed?” she asked.

The castle covering the world began releasing a vast amount of magic, as though a veil had been lifted.

“Castles are built by stacking stones. Fortress walls are built by stacking causality. Castles, then, are cause and effect. They can be stacked until they form a world, a towering den fit for a Royal Tiger.” The world’s order distorted with Maytilen’s words. As if resonating with the long silver castle that covered the world, her fur began to glow silver too. “Great Castle of Causality Heizbenierya.”

The next moment, I felt a huge impact against the back of my head, sending my body hurtling towards the ground.

“This world is my castle. The stone walls accumulated are the causality of the world. Do you finally get it now? I control the causality of all of Balandias. Castles rise and fall according to my will, and thus cause and effect are mine to control. I can remove cause and still obtain the effect.”

The cause—the swinging of her claws, the physical tackle of her body—had been removed, leaving only the effect of claw marks and impacts. A fitting authority for a chief god.

“In this silver castle, I freely command the effect of all things. Your defeat was decided the moment you arrived,” she said.

I flipped in the air and landed on the ground. Water from the barrier splashed up in response, and a large hole was created in the ground.

“Such big talk,” I said, glaring up at the brazen Royal Tiger in the air with mauve Magic Eyes. “If you can control causality, why didn’t your earlier blow destroy my source completely?”

Maytilen didn’t respond. The eyes of a fierce beast were fixed on me.

“If you can freely command effect as you say, simply making Farris your ruler should have been easy. But you didn’t do that—you couldn’t.” I calmly pointed at her. “Due to the nature of a castle, all you can do is build or break the causality of things, like you said. You can break the cause of something and force its effect on someone, but there’s a limit to how much you can cut off. Even if you can ignore the action of swinging your claws, the most you can do is claw me. You can do nothing to erase the opposition from my source.”

If too much causality were removed, the castle itself wouldn’t be able to remain standing. She seemed capable of stacking causes to create a stronger effect, but was still limited in what she could actually do.

“It seems all the causality you can control extends as far as your front paw can reach. That might have been enough for this tiny world,” I said with a smirk, “but no matter how much cause you break and effect you accumulate, your shoddy castle will never reach me.”

“Indeed, all I can do is build or break causality, for now,” Maytilen said, sounding completely unbothered by the fact. “But I have Farris. If he becomes ruler, the Great Castle of Causality will be able to take any shape he draws. Balandias will sink further into the depths, allowing all four of my paws to reach causality, as you say. When I finally reach the bottom of the abyss, my thoughts will control the causality of the entire Sacred Silverwater Sea.”

Gleeful laughter cackled through the sky.

“Once that happens, all my wishes will be granted with a mere thought. You are merely a checkpoint. Now that Farris is mine, I can build my aspirations as high as I wish!”

The Silverclaws of Ruin gleamed once more, ignoring cause and stabbing through me from behind. An immense volume of blood poured out of my mouth and chest.

“Isn’t that right, misfit? Even if I cannot make Farris the ruler, all I need in battle is a single front paw. If you want to talk down to me, do it after you manage to scratch me.”

“Hmm. By scratch...”

I drew the Two-Law Blade, using its magic power to cast Dagdra while stomping down on Maytilen’s shadow.

“Guwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!”

Maytilen’s body plunged down to the ground with an intense crash.

“Did you mean something like this?” I asked.

Changing causality with a single paw didn’t erase the shadow of her paw. Thus, my capture of her and her subsequent fall were the natural result of casting Dagdra using the Two-Law Blade’s stocked-up destructive magic power.

“Grrr... This...” Maytilen gasped while clawing apart the ground. “This is far deeper than Dogda Azbedra... In fact...”

I cast Demile to send six shadow needles over to her, pinning her shadow to the ground before she could get up.

“Gruh... Grrraaaah!”

I stepped down on Maytilen’s face.

“It can’t be... There’s no way...” the Royal Tiger muttered in disbelief. “That’s the magic of the Two-Law Usurper! Only the Inviolable Waters can use such magic!”

Shocked eyes turned to stare up at me. “How... Just who are you?”

“Carve this into your skull so you’ll never need to ask again. I’m the Demon King of Tyranny, Anos Voldigoad.”

With the Two-Law Blade in an underhand grip, I swung my sword down on Maytilen.

“I can’t believe...”

The blade didn’t reach her. No matter how hard I pushed, it couldn’t reach her head. She had erased the effect of her head being pierced.

“Oh?”

“I can’t believe I had to use this against a misfit of an ephemeral world!” she roared. A castle-like armor appeared, covering her body. The silver light of Heizbenierya overhead shone down upon her.

“Great Castle Armor Heizbenierya!”

“Hmm. An armor protected by causality, is it? Not something you’d see outside of the Silvercastle World,” I said, calmly drawing the Two-Law Blade back. “Perfect timing.”

I looked up. A girl was riding on a cog that had been fired into the sky.

“Let’s see if you have any effect on the true authority of a chief god,” I said to her.

She nodded quietly.

“Moon rises not; sun falls. Spring illuminates the godless world.” Her tranquil chant echoed through the Second Balandias. “Springtime Hexabloom, Levihelorta.”

A burning ring of ice appeared behind Arcana. The contradictory power caused Maytilen’s Great Castle Armor to freeze over and burn at the same time.

“No magic or power can damage the towering Silvercastle of Balandias. All causality in this miniature world works to protect my castle—”

The Royal Tiger’s eyes widened. The silver castle that enclosed Second Balandias, the Great Castle of Causality Heizbenierya, was crumbling to pieces before her. The order of the world itself was malfunctioning.

“What... What is that?”

Giant pieces of castle rubble rained down upon Maytilen.

“Gwuh! It can’t be... My castle...turning on me!”

The cause and effect of protecting the chief god was in disorder, causing the castle to attack Maytilen instead. Large pieces of rubble continued to fall, crushing her body.

“Gyah! That’s impossible! My power...is fading...fading...”

Her tragic scream echoed from underneath the rubble.

“The power of the chief god that controls Balandias... Why?! It can’t be! No authority is capable of erasing my power, not even the Inviolable Waters! How... What did you do, misfit?!”

“There was one misfit from my world who lost to me. He had created a means of dealing with a chief god, should one ever be born in my world. The result is as you just experienced.”

A particularly pointy part of the castle came falling straight down from above.

“Order gets distorted into absurdity. I am the blasphemous god that opposes the heavens,” Arcana said.

Rubble crashed into rubble, sending sharp pieces through Maytilen’s body as they crushed her on impact. The Royal Tiger was being buried by the Silvercastle she herself had created. The disruption to causality caused the rubble to balance on top of each other in a precarious stack, piling on top of her body. The only part of her that wasn’t buried was her head. With all her authority gone, she couldn’t even fight back.

“Did it work?” Arcana asked, descending from the sky.

“Perfectly.”

She smiled bashfully.

“Will your magic power last?” I asked.

“If I don’t use Leviangilma, it can last for another few minutes. But I can’t finish her off.”

Once the Six Flowers of Absurdity vanished, Maytilen would regain her authority. Her power was only being sealed temporarily.

“My power may not seal the authority of another world’s chief god completely.”

“Let’s test that too.”

Using the Two-Law Blade, I detached Maytilen’s head from her body.

“What...are you doing...misfit?” Maytilen’s head muttered. She sure was a tough one. Even in this state, she still had enough magic in her source to stay alive.

“If I try to destroy you, you’ll just surrender. I can’t get Farris back that way.”

I grabbed the Royal Tiger’s head and flew towards the Demon King Express, which was still locked in combat with Zeridheavens.

“That’s why I’m getting you front row seats to Balandias’s complete and utter defeat.”

§ 35. Sky of Destruction

A loud explosion roared overhead, followed by the creaking sound of turning cogs. The Sky Fortress Zeridheavens and the Demon King Express Beltexfenblem were soaring through the sky while shooting spellfire at each other.

The Demon King Express charged straight at Zeridheavens, undeterred by the continuous strikes of Veylonbosm shots wrapped in explosive fire. The distance between the two was being closed, and soon, they would collide head-on.

“Zeridheavens should be approaching their firing limit. Estimated six seconds until next reload,” Misha’s voice said.

“All turrets aligned!” the Fan Union replied.

“Not yet. Draw them closer,” Eldmed said to the turret room.

“Changing course. Destination: center of Zeridheavens,” Misha answered.

“W-We’re gonna crash into them?!”

“Bwa ha ha!” Eldmed ignored Ellen’s startled question and used his cane to steer the rudder straight towards Zeridheavens. “A collision would only benefit us. That artist would never steer his ship so poorly.”

The students in the engine room looked at him with wide eyes. Just as the train was about to make contact, Zeridheavens swerved to evade the Demon King Express.

“Fire away,” Eldmed said.

“This time for sure! Go!” the Fan Union shouted from the turret room. “Boros Hetheus!”

Ancient wheels were fired towards Zeridheavens as the two vessels passed each other. There was one more second until Veylonbosm could next be reloaded. With no ammunition left to shoot down the cogs, Zeridheavens could only accelerate away from the barrage. In the one second while they were unable to reload, the sky fortress shot through the sky faster than the spellfire could move.

“No way! How can a ship be faster than spellfire?!” Ellen yelled in disbelief from the turret room. Zeridheavens continued evading Boros Hetheus skillfully, swerving around until they had positioned themselves behind the Demon King Express.

“Bwa ha ha! They fell for it!” Eldmed laughed as smoke rose from the carriages of the train. “Chuff Chuff!”

The smoke vanished, revealing that the front and the back of the train had switched positions. Eldmed had cast the smoke spell prior to entering the air battle with Zeridheavens, reversing the positions of the carriages and hiding the change with a smoke illusion. In other words, the train had been moving in reverse this whole time.

“Connecting wheels to fifth cog. Full steam ahead,” Eldmed ordered.

“Roger! Connecting to fifth cog, full steam ahead!” the students in the engine room replied, swiftly changing gears to reverse their direction of travel.

As a train, Beltexfenblem could output the same speed backwards or forwards, but as the engine room was located in the front carriage, it was easier to steer from the front. The chimney being placed there also meant that the smoke barrier was thicker at the front of the train than at the back.

Farris had positioned Zeridheavens to aim for the weaker end of the train, having never expected that that same end had been facing him the entire time. But that had been Eldmed’s gamble.

“Bwa ha ha! Charge, charge, chaaarge!”

Just moments ago, Zeridheavens had been chasing the end of the train at full speed. Now that the Demon King Express was moving in reverse, the two vehicles were approaching each other at a far greater speed than before. There was no time to brake, and at this speed, evasion was impossible.

“H-Hey! Are we really going to charge into them now? If we crash we won’t be able to get out of it unharmed!” Sasha shouted in protest.

But Eldmed brushed aside her concerns with a bright rejoinder of his own. “Fear not, fear not! This much is needed to stop that ridiculously fast ship in its tracks! Just believe in the Demon King’s magic!”

“It’s getting a bit tough for me, but I’ll do my best!” Eleonore replied.

The light of Teoboros Ijelia grew brighter as Eleonore added additional layers to the barrier. Loud booms could still be heard as Veylonbosm made its concentrated fire on the train, but the barrier placed over the front blocked these shots completely.

In no time at all, the Demon King Express was right before the walls of Zeridheavens. But just as they were about to collide, the white smoke coming from the chimney vanished, with Teoboros Ijelia slowly fading with it.

In the engine room, one of the students working as a stoker had collapsed out of exhaustion.

Boros Hetheus, the speed of the fifth cog, and Teoboros Ijelia were all tied to the combustion in the boiler room that powered the Demon King Express. Though the students of the Demon King Academy had trained for this, the battle had forced them to throw coal at speeds far higher than they had ever trained for, and many of them had long reached their limit.

“Bwa ha ha! What a blunder!”

Eldmed cackled gleefully at losing his gamble. With Teoboros Ijelia fading, the train would now be crushed if it crashed into the Badirahier barrier.

“I see you’re still a fan of decalcomania, Conflagration King. Your fighting has all the beauty of surrealism,” Farris said through Leaks as the Demon King Express collided with Zeridheavens’s barrier. Teoboros Ijelia completely vanished right at the moment of collision. But Farris had eased the barrier around his own ship at the exact same time. “It’s not my own taste, but it’s elegant in its own way.”

Using the gap created by the vanished wall, Zeridheavens evaded colliding with the train by a hair’s breadth. As the long train shot past Zeridheavens, the sky fortress fired two quick shots of Veylonbosm.

“Damage detected in two connection points. First, second, and third cargo carriages now falling,” Misha’s voice said. All the cargo holds storing the firedew had been separated from the main body of the Demon King Express. If the enemy caught them, the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish would end in Balandias’s victory. Zeridheavens swiftly moved towards the falling cargo carriages.

“Fire Neos,” Eldmed ordered.

“Right away!” Ellen said.

“Firing Neos! Collect them all!” the Fan Union replied.

Cogs with suction power were fired from the turrets, one after another. But before they could collect the falling cargo carriages, they were blown apart by more Veylonbosm shots from Zeridheavens.

The train would never catch up to Zeridheavens in time at its current speed. As the sky fortress rapidly came within retrieving distance of the cargo carriers, a magic circle appeared beside it. Castle ramparts materialized and were deployed, with the cargo carriages on the inside.

“Dogda Azbedra.”

With a deafening sound, a hole opened in the Badirahier wall of the ramparts. I reached inside with Ygg Neas and retrieved the three cargo carriages.

“Bwa ha ha. That was a close one, Farris,” I said, flinging the carriages back to the Demon King Express, where they reconnected with the train. “Look here at how your chief god now fares.”

I intercepted the Leaks being exchanged on board Zeridheavens and held up Maytilen’s head in clear view of the sky fortress. Farris probably could have blocked my interference with some anti-magic wards, but it seemed he hadn’t bothered. With the chief god in my hands, they had no choice but to obey. The outcome of the match had already been decided.

Various voices muttered in horror.

“No...”

“How...”

“How could this happen?”

“He’s mutilated Chief God Maytilen...”

“Is this some kind of nightmare? I can’t believe it... The Great Castle of Causality fell so easily in the middle of Second Balandias, in the middle of our world?”

“What did that girl do? Is she some sort of god?”

“Are you saying that it wasn’t even their chief god who took down our chief god, but just a regular god? What does she govern? What kind of order could take down the Royal Tiger?”

“Lord Zaimon was defeated as well. Our overall formation has fallen apart, and there are no Sky Fortress Camlahi left.”

More and more words of dumbfounded disbelief spilled from within Zeridheavens.

“Their swordsman defeated Lord Zaimon one-on-one. Another wields Evansmana, the Sword of Three Races. And now they have an unknown god who can seal the order of a chief god. Their ruler may be a monster, but so are his subordinates...”

“Just what is the Demon King Academy of Militia’s World? They’re far too strong to simply be a school led by a misfit!”

“He didn’t call himself a Demon King for nothing, but to think he’d be this powerful...”

At the stark reality they could no longer deny, the remaining castle demons of Balandias were all trembling with fear. Their only ship still standing was Zeridheavens.

“We’re no match for you, Your Majesty. It appears the entire force of Balandias cannot hold a candle to you,” Farris said.

“No, this was all just a warm-up. It’s not over yet,” I replied, rising up to the Demon King Express and looking down on the sky fortress still flying freely in the sky. “You and your Zeridheavens still remain, Farris. The wings of hope the castle demons saw on the battlefield have yet to be broken. Balandias cannot wake from its nightmare until those wings have been snapped.”

The outcome was already clear, but I decided to give Balandias one more chance to win—just so the taste of undeniable defeat could be made all the more potent.

“One last match. Use those wings of yours to fly to the Demon King Express. If you can do that, this Silverwater Ranking Skirmish will end in your victory.”

“And if our wings can’t reach you?”

“Return to my side and paint what you promised you’d paint that day.”

After a brief moment of silence, a giant magic circle covered Zeridheavens. Farris’s magic power—and those of the castle demons on board—was overflowing from the sky fortress.

“I accept your challenge. But know this: Even if I lose, I will not paint,” Farris said clearly. “My brush has broken. I will never paint again. Instead, I made a vow to be Balandias’s wings. Even if I cannot be like you, Your Majesty, I can become the wings that fly towards the light that we of Balandias have all been waiting for.”

Now, with more magic power around it than ever before, Zeridheavens slowly ascended.

“It is because my brush has broken that my wings never will. Not until the day light arrives in Balandias.”

“What a martyr you make, Farris, so admirably sacrificing yourself for the sake of the world. You’ve gone from a self-willed painter to a full-fledged warrior. However...”

Why did his brush have to break? His resolve hadn’t been lacking—far from it. And he hadn’t lied about wanting to be a warrior either.

Thus, I said, “I will never praise you for it.”

I stared at the sky fortress flying straight for us.

“Sasha.”

“Is it finally my turn?” Sasha asked. “About time.”

Sasha used Fless to rise out of the train and into the sky.

“Use that,” I said.

Sasha’s pupils transformed into the Magic Eyes of Destruction before she covered them with her right hand. Upon revealing her eyes once more, her pupils had turned into the suns of darkness that beckoned ruin—the Divine Eyes of the End.

“Abernyu.”

The Demon King Express ascended even higher, to where a sun of darkness—the Sun of Destruction Sarjieldenav—had manifested in the center of the sky. The sun of Militia’s World that had once burned everything the Goddess of Destruction saw reflected in her Eyes had descended upon Second Balandias.

The Demon King Express ascended until it was swallowed inside the sun. Like this, Zeridheavens could not reach the Demon King Express without having to break through the Sun of Destruction.

“Witness the power of the Goddess of Destruction!” Sasha declared.

The Sun of Destruction filled the sky of Second Balandias with its black light, Ottolulu’s barrier easily burning away under its radiance. Magic power of devastating force gathered in the skies, Sarjieldenav’s black rays shining down on the world.

That light of ruin illuminated Zeridheavens as it rose up into the sky. In the current Militia’s World, where La Sencia had been changed into order, the power of gods obeyed love, and so the light of the black sun burned far stronger than it did two thousand years ago.

“After two thousand years, you succeeded in turning that sinister, bewitching sun into a symbol of peace,” Farris said. Zeridheavens continued to rise, its wings burning as it did so. “But here in Balandias, I was fighting too. Zeridheavens is an immovable silver castle that will never be shaken. These wings will never fall. They will fly through the battlefield as Balandias’s symbol of victory until the very end.”

Zeridheavens rose through the sky to slice through the black rays of destruction—just like they did that day.

“Now, let’s go,” Farris said to his fellow castle demons. “There is nothing to fear. I won’t say you have to be beautiful, but please, follow my lead. I will bring you victory, no matter what it takes.”

Castle ramparts burned, wings turned into tatters, but Zeridheavens continued to rise.

“This is just like back then, Your Majesty,” Farris said to me. “My wings will deliver hope to the Sun of Destruction, no matter what.”

Encouraged by Farris’s fearless demeanor, the castle demons released even more of their magic power, allowing them to collectively cast a spell to create an unshakable castle.

“Balandialtar!”

Silver light wrapped around Zeridheavens.

Second Balandias’s highest grade of castle construction magic recreated the sky fortress before our eyes. Thick walls of sparkling silver, long and sturdy wings, and countless turrets came into existence, turning the giant castle into an undeniable fort. With the same spell, the most Zaimon could do was cover himself in armor, but Farris had borrowed the magic of the castle demons to cast it on the entire ship.

They were the powerful, tragic wings of a man who turned his life’s passions into a weapon, all to protect the work of his fellow artists.

“Misha,” Sasha called.

A voice replied from the Demon King Express. “Militia.”

Lunar snowdrops fell on the wings of Zeridheavens. Countless flowers fluttered through the air until they covered the entire sky. Beside the Sun of Destruction appeared a sparkling full moon—the Moon of Creation Altiertonoa.

And it was moving. Both sun and moon shifted towards each other, sending Sarjieldenav into an eclipse. As a total solar eclipse approached, darkness swathed Balandias, until only a single girl’s silhouette was reflected within the dark sun.

“You were smiling that day,” Sasha said, recalling their previous encounter two thousand years ago. “Every time your wings broke you would remake them and say something foolish about beauty or art. And despite the situation, you were always laughing. Even as you flew straight into the sky of destruction—into your own destruction—you were laughing about a peaceful world. But the ship last time wasn’t as ugly as this one.”

Sasha opened her closed eyes. The Divine Eyes of the End shone with a vivid sparkle.

“You may think that this time, you’ve become stronger, but you’re wrong. It was your smile I lost to. Your smile was what allowed your wings to soar through the sky of destruction so freely.”

The Solar Eclipse of the End flickered with a sharp glare.

“That’s why I’ll destroy all this. I don’t want to see such a tragic end anymore.”

The next moment, enough apocalyptic rays to destroy Militia’s World were released upon the world. The light of darkness didn’t only fall upon Zeridheavens, but Ottolulu, myself, the water barrier, and the land of Balandias too.

But not a single thing burned.

With the reincarnation of Militia’s World, the order of the Goddess of Destruction had also evolved. Her authority, the Sun of Destruction, had had its power transformed by her love. The rays of the end now only destroyed what needed to be destroyed. Sarjieldenav’s radiance burned the Sky Fortress Zeridheavens alone; I was unharmed, the land was unharmed, and all the castle demons were unharmed as well.

By limiting the target of ruin, the sun’s power was heightened severalfold.

“Ein Aer Naverva!”

§ 36. Where the Soul Lies

The rays of the end fell upon Zeridheavens. The giant-fort-turned-shining-castle burned, from the ramparts to the ship body to the very tip of its wings. Kaltinas had called Balandialtar an immovable castle that could withstand the ruin of the world. The current Zeridheavens was indeed tough enough to back up that statement—but it wasn’t tough enough. The overwhelming destruction of Sasha’s Ein Aer Naverva burned the ship so thoroughly, half of it was completely destroyed.

“You won’t be able to fly in such a state,” I said, looking down on Zeridheavens. “How much longer are you going to keep lugging around all that weight for? Use Astrastella and come here, Farris. Show the people of Balandias the true wings you can draw.”

“I drenched my brush in blood,” Farris’s voice replied.

Zeridheavens had yet to lose its radiance. Creation magic held the battered hull together as the sky fortress spread the remnants of its wings and mustered its magic to slowly—but steadily—fly up towards the apocalyptic light of Sarjieldenav.

“On my canvas I drew corpse upon corpse.”

Farris’s magic power just barely managed to keep the castle in one piece.

“Even then, I thought I had to protect them, Your Majesty,” he said, as though to encourage himself. “Protect my brothers-in-arms.”

How many battlefields had he lived through since reincarnating?

“The people.”

Just by looking at Zeridheavens, I could imagine how brutal all those wars had been.

“The art of the masters.”

Irrefutably, it had been hell for him. A hell the gentle artist could never escape from.

“Whenever a powerful enemy appeared before me, I only had one means of fighting. My only choice was to either die as an artist or protect them as a warrior, and I chose to dye this ship bloodred.”

He used the rest of his strength to wrap a magic barrier around Zeridheavens.

“It’s too late for me now... At this point, what would I draw? I have no right to pick up a brush after defiling my work with so much blood.”

Zeridheavens slowly rose.

“I transformed Zeridheavens into a weapon. I sullied its soul and sold it to a devil. Even if every person in all the silver seas forgives me, art never will.”

The outspread tattered wings of the ship bravely soared through the apocalyptic light, as if responding to Farris’s emotions.

“Please do not pity me. No matter how unsightly I’ve become, I have not a single regret! I’ve saved people that my paintings could never save! Even if I cannot paint a picture of peace, I can still paint peace. As a warrior, the final hope left for me...”

Even as the ship crumbled apart, it steadily approached the Solar Eclipse of the End, accelerating from its previous speed. Its wings, on the verge of snapping completely, were more powerful than ever.

“...is to use these wings to lead Balandias to victory!”

Voices yelled from the ground—Zaimon, and the other castle lords of Balandias.

“That’s right! You can do it, Farris!”

“You are the wings of Balandias!”

“You are the chosen one of the battlefield, the incarnation of war!”

“No one has ever been as loved by the silver castles as Lord Farris has!”

“Farris Noin is the only Silvercastle Creator of our world! Our strongest warrior!”

“Show Militia’s World the pride of a castle demon! Strike back at them with the impregnable castle that is Zeridheavens!”

Zeridheavens rose further, pushed upwards by their cheers. The battered ship body and bent wings, in a way, reminded me of Farris himself. I cast Fless on the Royal Tiger’s head and cast it aside. Then, I accelerated downwards.

“Lord Farris, our ruler! You are the hope of Balandia—”

With a loud, booming crunch, I snapped off the right wing of Zeridheavens before the castle demons’ eyes.

“Wha...”

“Enough nonsense,” I said. “To all the castle demons and residents of Balandias that know nothing but war, I suggest you shut up, sit down, and watch. What have your Magic Eyes been seeing this whole time?”

I clenched my fist and smashed the outer walls.

“Farris, my freedom-loving subordinate. You’ve done well to survive this hell.”

I then tore all of Zeridheavens’s turrets apart with my bare hands.

“Each and every person who praised you for being a warrior could never live up to your real strength.”

I flew around Zeridheavens, pulverizing the ship until the square castle became round.

“But none of that matters anymore. I’ll break all of it for you. I’ll crush the hopes of these demons in front of their own eyes and show them what a true warrior looks like.”

I flew forwards and smashed through the left wing of Zeridheavens, snapping it with a forceful swing. Under the falling rays of the Sun of Destruction, I demolished the castle once considered tougher than Second Balandias itself, smashing it into nothing over and again, and by doing so, smashing the wings of hope they clung to—smashed the unmoving castle they’d used to imprison an artist.

It was a show of thorough destruction, with all of Balandias watching on.

“Tremble in fear, Balandias. This is strength. This is true war.”

Someone had to tell them. Someone had to stop them. But no such person existed in their world; not a single person in Balandias understood art. Not a single person could compare to the artist Farris Noin.

“You call this a weapon? This flimsy thing? This castle is hardly better than a detailed piece of cardboard.”

At the front of the half-broken Zeridheavens was a series of connected magic circles, where the magic power that supplied the ship was located. Drawn there—in the same place where Farris had once painted the Fasima Groves two thousand years ago—was the spell formula for Balandialtar.

Back then, that spot was where he had not allowed a single spell formula to be carved, even when deployed for battle. It was where he’d kept his faith as an artist. Even in the midst of war, he had set aside a tiny canvas on which he could rest his soul, a sacred place that allowed him to remain himself even as he flew through the battlefield. Yet Farris had broken that.

How much conflict did he feel in having to betray his faith? How much agony? Looking at this castle, more ruin than ship, I could sense the endless sorrow he must have endured all this time.

“I’ll free you from this prison.”

A seven-layered spiral of black particles wrapped around me. I clenched my fist and, with all my might, swung at the Balandialtar formula. With a thundering boom, the wall shattered, and the spell formula that Farris had carved there as a warrior was beaten, punched, and destroyed into pieces.

This castle was built as much upon tragedy as it was stones. I would reduce it until there was nothing left.

I punched through the thick inner wall of Zeridheavens to find Farris standing on the bridge. I then descended to the floor.

“Say, Farris. I don’t think a warrior’s life suits you after all.”

“Your Majesty...”

The face of a dauntless warrior stared back at me. But to me, he looked more like a child on the verge of tears.

“The Demon King’s Army has plenty of soldiers who excel in fighting already. But none of them can paint.” I took a step towards him. “You’re not suited for heroics. And being a ruler is out of the question. Is this where you really belong?”

He took a deep breath before answering. “The artist Farris Noin is dead... He has sold his soul to the devil.”

“Sold his soul? To whom? Kaltinas? Don’t be ridiculous,” I said with a laugh. “I bought your soul two thousand years ago. How can you sell something you don’t have?”

Farris’s eyes widened. I continued walking forwards.

“Everyone here keeps saying whatever they please, but I don’t plan on giving it to anyone against your will. Not Kaltinas, not Maytilen, not Balandias.” Once I reached Farris, I leaned in close to whisper to him. “You can wail and cry all you want, but I will shove a brush in your hand and force you to paint, Farris.”

I moved back slightly and stared into his face.

“You are mine,” I declared firmly, then pointed at my chest. “Your soul resides here. The soul of the artist Farris Noin, unchanged, as it has been all this time. A bit of blood could never taint such a noble heart.”

“Your Majesty...”

With a look of utter shock, Farris fell to his knees. He then slumped forwards slightly and hung his head by my feet.

“I wish...” he muttered hoarsely, with tears running endlessly down his face. “If you would still allow me...”

He reached out with his hands and clung to me. Only then did he finally confess what he truly felt.

“Your Majesty, I wish to paint,” he said imploringly, “just like two thousand years ago...by your side...”

“I’ll allow it.”

Even in a world of never-ending war like Balandias, Farris had never stopped searching: for a place to paint, for a place his paintings could be seen—for a place to leave his soul.

“Paint to your heart’s content. From now on I will destroy any injustice that restrains your freedom.”

I held out a hand to Farris. He looked up at me, face red and wet with tears.

“Seems like I’ve kept you waiting quite a while, Farris.”

§ 37. Soaring Wings in the Silvercastle World

Farris took my hand and slowly got to his feet. He had the face of a man freed from the ghosts haunting him, but he immediately gathered his composure.

“Your Majesty, the Immovable King is—”

Just then, the sky fortress shook with an intense rumble. There was no stopping Ein Aer Naverva’s rays anymore. Not even Zeridheavens could proceed any further with a ship hull this damaged.

No—there was something else. Something was pushing Zeridheavens up beyond its limits. A powerful divine authority was reflected in my Magic Eyes.

“...mine...” an eerie voice echoed. I turned to see a head floating in the open hole I had made of the castle. “He’s mine...”

It was the head of the Royal Tiger Maytilen.

“You can’t have him,” she said. “He’s mine. I won’t allow it. Farris is the wings that will lead Balandias. He is the Silvercastle Creator who will construct my ideal castle!”

A Leaks immediately arrived from Arcana. “I cannot seal it with the Six Flowers of Absurdity. The Royal Tiger is burning her own life to free herself.”

The light of a dying flame could overcome the darkness itself. The Royal Tiger’s source was approaching its destruction, allowing it to surpass the power of the Six Flowers of Absurdity. It was also about time for Arcana’s magic power to be exhausted. There was no way to immobilize a god of the depths completely.

“Zeridheavens! Can you hear me?!” Zaimon suddenly yelled through Leaks. His panicked voice echoed throughout the entire ship. “Abandon ship immediately! Chief God Maytilen intends to use her divine roar!”

The crew immediately responded by drawing the magic circle for Gatom. But before they could teleport away, silver claw marks appeared, slicing through the formulas.

The crew shouted in dismay.

“What?! Why?!”

“The cause and effect of Gatom is being controlled... Isn’t this the Royal Tiger’s power?”

“Impossible! Why would she...?!”

“What is the meaning of this, Maytilen?!”

The Royal Tiger’s floating head grinned. “None of you can leave. If I let a single grain of sand out of my grasp, the misfit will sneak out with it.”

Far below Zeridheavens, the headless, crushed body of Maytilen glowed silver under the rubble of the Great Castle of Causality. In response, the piled-up Silvercastle regained its radiance.

“Chief God Maytilen!” Zaimon cried out. “If you use that here, Balandias will not survive! You’ll be destroying your own world!”

Words of total delusion spilled from the Royal Tiger’s head. “A single silver bubble is a small price to pay to obtain Farris. I won’t allow anyone else to have him. No one. You’re mine, Farris, forever.”

“You’re crazy! Farris is too close. You’ll kill him!” Zaimon yelled.

But Maytilen only gave an eerie smile.

“If he dies, his bond with the misfit will be broken, and his firedew will someday become the wings of Balandias once more. I can wait until then, even if it takes tens of thousands of years.”

An intense light, similar to Gavuel, glowed. The Six Flowers of Absurdity were fully shaken off, and the Great Castle of Causality twisted and creaked as it changed shape, turning into the head of a giant stone tiger. Its jaw opened, a low sound reverberating from its throat as the self-sacrificial magic power of the Royal Tiger gathered in its open mouth.

“Now, become one with me,” the Royal Tiger said. “Heiz Belmut Ieriyard.”

The roar of the Royal Tiger shook the atmosphere itself. From her mouth came the scorch marks of countless silver bolts, striking across Zeridheavens. The Royal Tiger’s authority that ignored cause and demanded the resulting effect could bypass any barrier and force the damage of any blow. It could destroy anything, no matter how strong.

The crew of Zeridheavens had no time to even react. As residents of Balandias, their instincts told them that this was the authority of their Chief God, the Royal Tiger Maytilen. There was no way of evading or defending against the power of causality—to them, it spelled their death. However...

“Have beauty,” Farris said.

From a magic circle emerged a single magic brush. It waved through the air, creating a three-dimensional magic circle that covered Zeridheavens. I linked to him with Gyze and supplemented his magic power so we could cast the group magic together.

“Show them your true wings,” I said.

Farris closed his eyes and focused. “Astrastella.”

With the sky as his canvas, the broken wings of Zeridheavens were redrawn in no time at all. They were longer, sharper, and more beautiful than ever before. The outer walls, ramparts, castle gate, and turrets of the sky fortress were also regenerated. In the blink of an eye, the half-broken fortress was made anew.

The next moment, Maytilen’s roar of causality, Heiz Belmut Ieriyard, swallowed Zeridheavens. The ship shook, shot through by the silver bolts, and began to fall apart. The bolts ignored all defenses, all magic barriers and ramparts, leaving only the resulting destruction of Zeridheavens.

But it didn’t fall. New wings were being born as they were being destroyed. And that wasn’t all—with each subsequent regeneration, the damage caused by Heiz Belmut Ieriyard was clearly getting smaller. Based on how panicked Zaimon had sounded, this move was most likely the Royal Tiger’s final ace, and it should have been powerful enough to destroy Astrastella’s spell formula. But the roar of causality had failed to shoot through Zeridheavens’s core. In fact, each time Zeridheavens was redrawn, its wings gained more resistance to Heiz Belmut Ieriyard.

The Silvercastle World Balandias was an accumulation of causality. Just like how the stones of a castle could be toppled, the Royal Tiger could topple causality itself just as easily, as long as she could properly recognize the cause—

A castle was formed by accumulating stones. Using this logic, Maytilen then believed that art was formed through an accumulation of paint. But the magic brush couldn’t be stopped. In truth, the art creation spell Astrastella required neither brush nor paint. Astrastella made a painting born of Farris’s imagination, and thus, to be destroyed, required that one have the ability to see inside Farris’s head.

The Royal Tiger was incapable of that. No matter how far she followed the cause, even if her authority could see into Farris’s head, she wouldn’t understand what it was she found there. Art didn’t exist in Balandias, and so while the Royal Tiger was knowledgeable in how to construct a castle, she knew nothing about how to create a painting. The artistic wings Farris drew were far from being simply functional. To her, his wings appeared to be flying with no care for cause or effect. They were wings that could soar, self-willed and freely, higher than any pile of rocks. Perhaps that was why the Royal Tiger had obsessively sought Farris in the first place—to fill the hole she saw in her incomplete world.

“That power! You, Farris...with your power, if you became ruler...I would...”

“Isn’t it about time for you to surrender? All you have left is that perishing source of yours,” I said, having leaped out of Zeridheavens to fly over to where the stone tiger was.

“Silence! I will not allow it! Farris is mine... I’ll never give him to you!”

A silver bolt shot through my body. The next moment, the Solar Eclipse of the End high up in the sky of Balandias released a light.

“Remember this, Maytilen.”

Far above us, Sasha’s Divine Eyes of the End found the Royal Tiger’s castle. Dark light began to gather around the solar eclipse.

“Obession can destroy you.”

“Ein Aer Naverva!”

Apocalyptic light targeting only the Royal Tiger and her castle fell upon the Great Castle of Causality. Even under this apocalyptic onslaught, Maytilen continued firing silver bolts at Zeridheavens with a strange, single-minded obsession. But none of her roars of causality affected Zeridheavens anymore, and the ship soared freely past the countless silver bolts. Dyed black by the punishing light of the end, the Great Castle of Causality crumbled apart.

“You...” the head floating in the air muttered. The castle was completely annihilated. The Royal Tiger’s head fell down to where the rest of her was, and her dying body was made whole once more.

“It’s vexing, but this is all I can do...” Maytilen muttered, before she raised her voice to say, “I won’t forget this, Militia’s World! Misfits of the Demon King Academy! This anger, this resentment will never be forgotten. My Silvercastle World will turn into starved tigers who exist only to destroy you. Even if the world and its people suffer for it, we will chase you down to the ends of hell and tear the flesh off your bones!”

“If you had used your last breath to surrender instead, you might have lived,” I said, grabbing the Royal Tiger’s fur from behind. Condensed light of darkness gathered around my hand.

Sasha hadn’t finished firing Ein Aer Naverva—I had grabbed it with Leion, and amplified Abernyu’s apocalyptic light, already powerful enough to destroy the average miniature world, even more. I then took that amplified power of destruction and thrust it into Maytilen’s source.

“W-Wait, I surr— Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”

My hand pierced through the Royal Tiger’s body, with Ein Aer Naverva exploding inside her source. Light of darkness filled Second Balandias, turning my surroundings completely black. All destruction focused on Maytilen’s source and tore it into pieces.

The darkness gradually brightened. Little by little light returned to the world, color returning as the sinister Solar Eclipse of the End in the sky faded away. All that was left at my feet were the ashes of her corpse and a barely intact tiger skull. She was still alive, but barely.

“But there’s no saving you anymore. Balandias will be better off without your surrender,” I said to Maytilen’s skull. I then looked up at the castle demons watching from a distance. “It’s over, castle demons of Balandias. Get over here and let’s settle this, once and for all.”

§ 38. Setting Off Anew

The castle demons flew over to me, Zaimon in the lead. He’d received emergency treatment on the cut Shin had made, and while it wasn’t fully healed yet, he seemed to have no problem moving.

He landed in front of me. The castle lords all landed behind him, followed by the other castle demons.

“You said something about settling this,” Zaimon said quietly.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Balandias has clearly lost the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish. My insignia’s been taken, and I cannot fight any longer. Our ruler has fallen, and our chief god is in a similar state. What is there left to sett—”

“Your ruler has not yet fallen.” I looked up overhead. “Isn’t that right, Farris?”

Farris alighted from Zeridheavens and slowly descended to us.

“You knew?” he asked, landing beside me.

“What do you mean? Farris has already sworn loyalty to you,” Zaimon said, confused.

“Farris is not the ruler of Balandias,” I revealed.

Zaimon gasped and looked at Farris. “Is Kaltinas...”

“I’m sorry, Zaimon.” Farris drew a magic circle, and a frame appeared in the air. Inside the frame was a portrait of the Immovable King Kaltinas. His face was twisted in agony, so alive-seeming it looked like he could start moving at any moment.

“I sealed him in this frame using Rossen.”

If Farris had destroyed Kaltinas, the ruler of Balandias would have needed to be replaced immediately. With the Chief God Maytilen right beside him, Farris could have been made the new ruler right away. But he had hesitated.

“You are the ones that will settle this, not me,” I said. “After all, having risked your own lives for the sake of your world, isn’t this really your battle?”

I cast the seal release spell Laeluente on Rossen, and Kaltinas opened his eyes.

“Wh-What happened? Where are we?” He placed his hands on the frame and tried to climb out, but it was like there was a sheet of glass in front of him that prevented him from leaving.

“You must be cramped in there. I’ll let you out now.” I reached into the frame and grabbed him by the collar.

“Ugh... You!” he sputtered.

I yanked him out of the portrait by force and tossed him on the ground.

“Gyah!” Kaltinas fell on his backside and looked up at me with an angry glare. “Hmph! You should have just taken the firedew when you had the chance! Your greed will be your downfall!”

He drew a magic circle and a small cluster of things came flying over from outside Ottolulu’s barrier—the five framed castles of Master Carzen and the others.

“Wah ha ha ha ha ha! We knew this would happen, so we prepared them in advance! You know what happens when you defy us, Farris?” Kaltinas drew a magic circle over the five paintings and himself. “Maytilen! We’ll forgive you for your earlier trespass if you help us beat them up now! We’ll show you why we’re called the Immovable King!”

The six magic circles were all half incomplete, seemingly needing the chief god to complete the circles.

“You’ll regret this, misfit. We can rival the power of the entire Balandias Fleet all on our own. With these five castles, we’re invincible!”

The incomplete magic circles created castle-like armor around Kaltinas, with the armor expanding in size until it stood as large as an actual castle.

“What’s wrong, Maytilen? What are you waiting for? The chief god cannot kill the ruler. Have you forgotten that we control you? Now give us your power!” The Immovable King poured his magic power into the circles. But of course, incomplete circles could not complete themselves and, in the same vein, could not activate themselves. “Zaimon! What are you all doing?! Kill them already! Or do you actually want your entire family to die?”

Zaimon glared back at Kaltinas sharply.

“Hmm? What’s that look for? This is no bluff. We will kill them. Are you sure you want them to die?”

Zaimon and the castle demons held their hands up at Kaltinas and drew magic circles.

“Immovable King Kaltinas. Because of you, we have mourned countless comrades,” Zaimon said, voice low with righteous indignation. “We discarded our pride for the sake of our people. We did so because we believed that it was right. Yet we have so little to show for it. The only thing Balandias gained for our efforts was an ill reputation. Our people cannot even live comfortably, while our ruler thinks only of filling his own pockets! We no longer have need of such a king!”

In unison, Zaimon and the other castle demons fired Veylonbosm at Kaltinas.

“Graaaaaah!” Kaltinas screamed.

“Evil King Kaltinas, we will take you down and restore peace to Balandias! This is your divine punishment!”

Magic shells bombarded him one after another, breaking down the castle that was still in the middle of being formed.

“Groh! Urgh! Fools... Restore peace to Balandias? We were the one chosen by the will of Balandias. The path we walk is the path this world wants to walk!” Kaltinas yelled at his subordinates as his castle crumbled under their explosive flames. “Now hurry up, Maytilen! Crush these dimwits with your true power!”

“Hm. Is this,” I said, holding up the tiger skull that had been rolling on the ground, “the chief god you’re looking for?”

“Wh-What?! Gwaaaaaaaaahhh!”

Just as Kaltinas froze, face falling in terrified astonishment, concentrated fire from Veylonbosm struck him. His magic castle crumbled before it could complete its construction.

“If you’re so desperate for her,” I said, “you can have her.”

I threw the tiger’s skull at the feet of his now unguarded, unarmored body. The Immovable King shrieked, legs giving out from under him in fear. The eye sockets of the skull made eye contact with Kaltinas’s Magic Eyes.

“...ow...th......is...”

Fangs clattered together in wordless sounds.

“You... What...is this?” Kaltinas asked.

“Can’t you tell?” I slowly walked over to him and lifted my foot. “It’s what I destroyed.”

I then stomped on the tiger’s skull. The blood drained from Kaltinas’s face.

“Well, I say that, but she’s still alive. I’m sure you can tell by now, but even if you surrender, it’ll only be a matter of time before your chief god perishes.”

“F-Fine. As a ruler of a miniature world, we understand... We will not resist any further,” Kaltinas said, suddenly meek, sitting up straight. “We surrender to Militia. As of today, the Balandias Fleet will be renamed the Militia Fleet and serve you!”

Once he saw the imminent fate of his chief god, Kaltinas gave up without a fight.

“Oh?” I brought my face up to his and stared at him closely. “Serve me, is that it? Did a purist like you just think you could lie low and one day take over a world of misfits?”

“O-Of course not...”

“I have no need for fools among my subordinates. All I want is Farris’s firedew and those five paintings.” I drew a magic circle with my fingers. “As for the future of Balandias...”

“W-Wait... Stop... Don’t!”

“You’ll be a godless bubble floating in the silver seas; an ephemeral world.”

“Stop!”

I cast Jio Graze and blew up the Royal Tiger’s skull.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaahhh!” Kaltinas screamed in despair at the sight of his chief god—and his ambitions—burning up before him. “Maytilen, our chief god... The silvercastle we built all this time, just burning away...”

He gazed at the black flames, eyes empty, a lifeless husk of himself.

“Please,” he suddenly said desperately. “Please spare her! Save Maytilen! At this rate, she’ll... Please, I beg of you!”

The Immovable King pressed his head against the ground.

“And what would all your subjects do after hearing this, the ones you’ve treated like they were disposable?” I asked, having no interest in listening to his request myself. “What would all the miniature worlds you’ve defeated in past Silverwater Ranking Skirmishes do once they hear Balandias has become an ephemeral world?”

He remained in place bowing to me, trembling. “At this rate...Balandias will perish...”

A world without the protection of a chief god was unable to coordinate order, causing their firedew to leak out in a continuous depletion. This eventually brought the end of the world itself.

“Anything but that... Innocent citizens will perish...when all the fault is ours...”

“Oh? Are you prepared to start over?”

Kaltinas whipped his head up. It was an admirable effort for him to look grateful, but his expression was clearly insincere. “Of course we are. So please, if you could just spare the Royal Tiger...”

“A world doesn’t need a chief god to function. Just like Militia’s World.”

Once again, like a rapidly receding wave, the blood drained from his face.

“Live as a resident of an ephemeral world instead—like those you looked down upon. You may have neither god nor castle, but you have a body that moves, don’t you? And a heart that cares for the world. With your people’s approval, you can become the ruler of Balandias again,” I said. “Just don’t rely on dull gods anymore. If you truly love this world, win it with your own hands.”

The sound of footsteps echoed across the grounds. The castle lords had approached Kaltinas from behind. I turned to walk away as they apprehended the Immovable King.

“Urk... Wait, what are you... We’re... Gyaaah!”

In no time at all, the castle lords had tied up Kaltinas with rope.

“Lord Anos, Ruler of Militia,” Zaimon said, standing before me. There were three castle lords behind him—most likely those piloting the Camlahi fortresses earlier. “We cannot thank you enough... Usually our chief god being destroyed would have meant Balandias losing everything. We will not forget the mercy you’ve shown us.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just wasn’t a fan of that norm.”

“Your Majesty,” Farris said. “The Immovable King Kaltinas has met his inevitable end, but the castle demons have been thrust towards the edge of a fatal cliff. From here, they face a far harsher battle...”

Farris still trying, after everything, to mediate for Balandias made me chuckle. “You really aren’t a warrior.”

I used Fless to slowly rise into the sky. Farris looked up in confusion, following me with his gaze. Eventually, that gaze fixed upon Zeridheavens, still floating up above with its wings spread.

“Astrastella, right? So that’s what your wings originally looked like,” Zaimon said. He was looking up at Zeridheavens as well. “It’s a beautiful castle... It may be the first time I’ve ever thought of a castle as beautiful.”

Farris lowered his gaze to his comrade, whose face was still upturned admiring Zeridheavens’s wings.

“Artists must be amazing,” Zaimon continued. “All I can think about is fighting, but you think differently.”

Farris’s eyes widened.

“I thought we had the same ambitions,” Zaimon said. “But you and I aren’t the same at all.”

Farris looked apologetic, but Zaimon lowered his head first. “I’m sorry, Farris,” he said, with remorse. “I burdened you with too much.”

Farris’s expression changed to surprise. He shook his head profusely in clear denial. “No. That’s not it, Zaimon. I chose to take on the burden of your expectations. I could no longer bear to merely watch as your pure, beautiful, and refreshingly honest hearts were hurt over and over again. I chose to become a warrior of my own free will. But at the very end, it was I who betrayed you and failed to put a stop to Kaltin—”

Zaimon threw an arm around Farris, cutting off his words. “No, comrade. That was my fault. I was too weak. If I had been stronger, strong enough that you never had to put down your brush, you would have never forced yourself to break your own heart.” He looked at Farris, face solemn and serious. “This was my fault, you hear? I should have just become ruler instead. No?”

Farris, who, as an artist, didn’t need to be strong.

Zaimon, who, as a warrior, had to be strong.

Thankfully, he was strong enough to realize where he went wrong and hold himself accountable.

“In Balandias, we’re going to do things over as an ephemeral world. Isn’t that right, everyone?” Zaimon turned around and called out to the castle demons. “We’ll rebuild Balandias from the bottom up. Our wings,” and here he shook Farris with the arm he still had around him, “taught us how to stand up to the authority of a chief god. Militia’s ruler, the Demon King of Tyranny Anos Voldigoad, taught us that the order of the world can be defied, and that the chief god can be defeated!”

The castle demons nodded with bright expressions, as though Zaimon’s words helped them see Balandias anew.

“We will construct a new castle. A castle of our very own, one that will be ruled by neither foolish rulers nor savage chief gods! We will build a wonderful world where fighting isn’t everything, one filled with beautiful paintings and castles! Then, one day, we will invite the Silvercastle Creator who led us here with his wings to visit us again!”

“Yeah!!!” the castle demons all yelled in unison. They gathered around Farris in clear excitement and lively chatter.

“Lord Farris, don’t forget us once you return to Militia’s World!”

“No matter where you go, please remember that you are the wings of Balandias. You fought until we castle demons came to our senses. We will never forget your kindness.”

“Rest assured, we are proud castle lords of Balandias. After witnessing an artist valiantly fight with a castle sword, we will no longer be cowards.”

Everyone was trying to free Farris from the guilt of his betrayal by sending him off with a smile. All the castle lords had seen how he had fallen to his knees in front of me earlier and pleaded to paint. His outburst must have reached all the way to their warrior souls.

I looked down upon them—the clear evidence of all the bonds Farris had built while he lived on Balandias—and called out to them. “Here marks the maiden voyage of the newborn Balandias. In congratulations, take this parting gift from Militia’s World.”

The Solar Eclipse of the End—floating peacefully in the sky all this while—inverted, releasing a silver red light: the Lunar Eclipse of Origin.

“Three-sided World: Celestial Globe of Creation,” Militia’s voice echoed.

Silver-red rays of moonlight fell upon the world. Militia’s authority began to recreate the Royal Tiger’s ashes and the rubble of the Great Castle of Causality.

“One last spurt! Let’s do this!” Eleonore cheered.

“Let’s do this... Cheering on!” Zeshia echoed.

Stork feathers burst into being and danced through the moonlight. The emotions created by the source birth magic Ennessone-Eleonore were of endless love and kindness.

“You and your holy sword must both be exhausted, but hang in there, Lay!” Eleonore said encouragingly.

“I know,” Lay replied. He released Evansmana’s power and converted Eleonore’s love and kindness into La Sencia.

“Bwa ha ha! Take some hope while you’re at it!”

In the engine room, Eldmed picked up the shovel in place of the fallen stoker and threw coal into the firebox. Fierce flames rose with the undeniable power of a god.

“Gruuuh... S-Stop... I...” Equis’s voice echoed.

The water wheels and windmills of the Demon King Express turned rapidly, converting Balandias’s despair into hope.

“Ar Ent Ertonoa.”

The sky of Second Balandias turned silver-red. Just like in Militia’s World, Misha’s power as the Goddess of Creation altered Balandias’s order and recreated the Royal Tiger Maytilen and the Great Castle of Causality with kindness.

“The Royal Tiger Maytilen’s disappearance has been confirmed,” the Arbitration Goddess Ottolulu announced from the spot in the sky where she had been supervising the entire skirmish. “I, Ottolulu, declare the Demon King Academy the victors. The firedew of Balandias now belongs to Militia’s World.”

Ar Ent Ertonoa had recreated Maytilen into a different existence, making her lose her status as the chief god.

“I don’t want it,” I replied. “Balandias can keep all its firedew—except for Farris’s.”

“If you collect all of Balandias’s firedew, Militia’s World will have enough to reach the deep-levels,” Ottolulu said. “Are you sure about this?”

“Certain.”

“Understood. The ruler that defeats the chief god has the right to decide what they do afterwards. Are you able to retrieve the firedew yourself?”

I looked up at the Lunar Eclipse of Origin. I wasn’t able to distinguish the firedew from anything else I was seeing.

“Farris’s firedew isn’t here,” Misha replied. “I think it’s in First Balandias.”

“Hmm. Then we’ll have to go there ourselves then.”

“There is no need for that,” Ottolulu said. “Order is connected no matter the distance.”

She drew a magic circle and inserted her windup key into the keyhole. After three turns, the magic circle opened to reveal the glowing firedew within.

“Please accept this.”

Silver-red moonlight fell onto the magic circle, absorbing the firedew into the Lunar Eclipse of Origin.

“Wait... What’s that?” Ottolulu asked, looking down at the ground curiously, cogs appearing within her Divine Eyes. “The power of the perished chief god? But I saw Maytilen’s termination...”

“Watch closely,” I said. “This is how you patch a hole in a bucket.”

The silver-red moonlight faded, and the Lunar Eclipse of Origin vanished from the sky. Balandias’s recreation was complete.

“The sky,” Zaimon muttered from his place on the ground.

All the castle lords were staring upwards at it. The dome was gone from the reborn Balandias, replaced with an endless blue sky.

“A blue sky in Balandias...”

“Zaimon, look at that,” Farris said.

They both stared with wide eyes. Floating in the blue sky was a large set of eight wings—or rather, a building built to look like wings.

“Hmm. What did you create, Misha?” I asked.

Sasha and Misha flew through the sky and descended to where I was.

“Want to see?” Misha asked.

I nodded, then turned face to the castle demons on the ground. “Come with us. It’s what used to be the Great Castle of Causality. You should all see how the thing that once controlled you so utterly has changed.”

§ Epilogue: Painting of Peace

A set of elegant doors flew open upon our arrival. The interior of the eight-winged building was mainly white, and fairly spacious. The pillars, walls, and ceiling were curved in unique shapes and decorated with various ornaments. Along the pure white walls were many frames. But they were just frames—there were no paintings within them.

“I see. An art gallery, is it?” I asked.

Misha nodded in response to my question. With clear curiosity, Zaimon looked around the building we were in and slowly walked forwards.

“An art gallery... That’s a building to display non-sellable wares, is that right?” he asked.

Farris, walking beside him, was the one who answered. “That’s right. Art galleries are spaces dedicated to the collection of artworks and paintings, not only for display, but for the preservation of culture. This kind of place didn’t exist in Balandias.”

“The Great Castle of Causality brought the cause and effect of war to Balandias. That’s why I recreated it into an art gallery. Now, instead of war, it will bring art and culture to Balandias,” Misha explained simply. “The Gallery of Causality should be worthy of the new Balandias you are all trying to create.”

“The Goddess of Creation of a different world, recreating the chief god of Balandias... How could such a thing be possible?” Zaimon muttered in disbelief.

“Your chief god was about to perish,” Misha replied.

When Militia’s World was reborn, the authority of the Goddess of Creation gained the power of love and kindness. This reshaped authority resonated with her emotions, equipping her with the power to turn worlds into kinder places.

“But it doesn’t mean everything has been fixed,” I said. Misha nodded in agreement. “You’re only a little better off than a regular ephemeral world. In Militia’s World, we had to gather everyone’s feelings to recreate the entire world. Even with a chief god on the brink of ruin, with only Misha and the Demon King Academy on hand we can’t do much more than this.”

Firedew might still leak out of their world little by little. Order hadn’t completely stabilized either, and could fall apart at any time.

“It’s enough. It’s more than enough of a parting gift, Ruler Anos,” Zaimon said. “As the new Balandias, we will use these wings to soar and construct a noble castle without a chief god. Once that is complete, this blank gallery will then be filled with paintings.”

“When that happens, our world will gladly donate to your gallery,” I replied.

“Please do. The Gallery of Causality is a symbol of our friendship with Militia’s World. We would never refuse such an offer.” Zaimon turned to Farris. “It’s a little sad seeing just rows of empty frames. Would you consider drawing a piece before you go?”

“I wouldn’t mind. But it’s been a while since I’ve held a brush, so I don’t know if I can draw one right away...” Farris chuckled as he looked around the gallery. “What would be most beautiful to draw first? The only thing I have in my head currently is a vague image.”

Zaimon struggled to find his words. He didn’t know how to reply to such an abstract question.

“Does that mean... Hmm. Is it like how you can’t just slice down whoever stands before you blindly, you have to choose when to draw your sword?”

Farris chuckled.

“Was that not right?” Zaimon asked worriedly.

“No. Comparing art to a sword is quite beautiful.”

“I-I see.” Zaimon sighed in relief.

Just then, a small figure appeared before him.

“Leave it...to us!” Zeshia declared. She was holding a brush and palette, and beside her, Ennessone was carrying a canvas. “Zeshia’s great...at drawing...super artistic!”

Ennessone set the canvas down on the floor. Zeshia dipped her brush in paint and began drawing on the spot.

“What are you painting?” Ennessone asked, wings on her head flapping as she peered over the canvas.

“A castle... Zeshia likes gold castles more than silver ones... You draw too, Enne!”

Zeshia handed her brush to Ennessone. The two of them then happily painted two castles, naming them Castle Zeshia and Castle Enne respectively. Zaimon and the other castle demons watched on in fascination.

“Ah. Um... There’s no need to watch so keenly! They’re just childish scribbles!” Eleonore explained in a hurry.

“Even scribbles are valuable to the current Balandias. We would be most grateful if you were to donate this piece to us,” Zaimon said with a serious look, leaving Eleonore looking even more troubled.

“If it’s art they need, should I donate my special piece?” Ellen wondered out loud, taking a picture out of a magic circle drawn at her side.

“Don’t tell me... No! What if you mess up Balandias’s understanding of arts!” Jessica immediately scolded her.

“But it’s still art, in a way! It’s important that they learn about all kinds of culture!”

“What kind of culture? Show me too!” Nono chimed in.

“Kyah! It’s just a lewd print!” Maia squealed.

“Wow. It really is lewd...” Nono murmured after a moment of silence.

“What a masterpiece...” Maia said.

They both stared at Ellen’s drawing closely.

“Aaah! Stop looking, perverts!” Ellen protested.

“Who are you calling a pervert? You’re the one who drew this! Now show me too!”

The Fan Union girls started chasing each other around in a flurry.

“So there are actually worlds without any art in them at all. How curious,” I said to myself.

“When it comes to silverfoam,” Ottolulu said, “the will of the world is strongly reflected upon the world itself.”

I turned to see the Arbitration Goddess behind me.

“In the Silvercastle World Balandias, the will of the Royal Tiger Maytilen resulted in castles of power and war being honored. That is why most of the life born here were castle demons. They have a weaker understanding of art than those of other worlds,” she said.

“So the chief god stole the concept of art from the residents of Balandias?”

“The chief god is the will of the miniature world itself. It is the order of the Sacred Silverwater Sea for worlds to flow as their gods intend.”

Because of that order, Farris had had no choice but to lay down his brush.

“Almost every miniature world has a large bias like this. The residents gain abilities, traits, and culture according to that bias. However, in Militia’s World, it seems that this bias is extremely small.”

“Huh.”

Ottolulu walked beside me through the gallery as she elaborated.

“Was the Castlefall Sword used in the Silverwater Ranking Skirmish a demon sword born in Militia’s World?”

“Yeah.”

“Considering the authority of Chief God Equis, such a demon sword normally shouldn’t exist in your world. Even if it did, its magic power should have been merged with all the other magic when the world evolved, giving it the same element as the chief god.”

Zaimon had been surprised by the existence of the Castlefall Sword too. His reaction had been curious to me.

“The Castlefall Sword is a demon sword with a limited element,” Ottolulu said.

A limited element, hmm?

“I’ve never heard of that before. What does that mean?” I asked.

“It’s a term used when magic or magic items possess a single, stand-alone order or element,” she explained. “But even then, the element which could be called ‘specializing in bringing down castles’ is an extremely unique limited element.”

“Would Evansmana be considered as having a limited element?”

“Indeed so.”

It was a holy sword that specialized in defeating the Demon King of Tyranny, making it weaker against holy figures and gods. Although it seemed to have a different purpose in the silver seas, specializing against Atzenon’s Lions of Ruin instead of me. But we apparently had similar wavelengths of magic.

“Anything born in a miniature world is affected by the chief god’s order, no matter how little. In the Silvercastle World Balandias, there is no person or object that doesn’t bear the order of castle construction.”

And so even if a demon sword had ninety-nine percent fire element, as long as it was created in Balandias, the remaining one percent would be castle construction. That was why it was impossible for something like an object with the limited element of fire to be created in Balandias.

“In short, the only limited element that can be created on Balandias is that of castle construction,” I said. “Whereas in the Holy Sword World Hyphoria, the only limited element that can be created will be like the Sword of Three Races.”

“The Sword of Three Races is unique, but that understanding is correct. That’s why normally, only the limited element of Chief God Equis’s order—the limited element of cogs—should be born in Militia’s World.”

So it should have been impossible for the Castlefall Sword as Shin used it to exist in Militia’s World, huh?

“The existence of a chief god with the order of Castlefall has not been detected by Pablohetra. When it comes to limited elements, it’s possible for those from the shallows to influence those from the depths. But there has never been any sign of a limited element with Balandias’s weakness in the Sacred Silverwater Sea before.”

That explained why Zaimon had been so shocked. To him, the Castlefall Sword Mezberetta was an object that shouldn’t have existed in the silver seas at all.

“Is that incomprehensible to you?” I asked.

“It’s an extremely rare situation, but I can think of several possibilities in which it could occur. If you know the reason for it in this case, would you be willing to share?”

“I told you before, our world is defective. Just like what we did to the Royal Tiger Maytilen just now, we changed Equis into a more convenient tool. To put it simply, Equis doesn’t control Militia’s World at all.”

Ottolulu closed her mouth. It seemed this hadn’t been one of the several possibilities she had considered.

“I’ve never heard of such a silver bubble...”

“Do you get it now?”

She fell silent once again.

“Understood,” she said after a long moment of thought. “Militia’s World has evolved in a way unprecedented in the Sacred Silverwater Sea.”

Ottolulu looked away from me and surveyed the Gallery of Causality.

“I can feel the magic power of Militia’s World at work in this gallery, even though it belongs to Balandias. It’s a colorless order with no bias, and it seems to signify that the Royal Tiger Maytilen has been recreated into the property of Militia’s World.”

Since Misha was the one who recreated it, that was inevitable.

“It just seemed wasteful to destroy her,” I said simply.

Ottolulu stared back at me in silence.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“In the history of Pablohetra, there have been no worlds unaffected by the will of their chief god, nor worlds that have acquired the chief gods of other worlds before. The problem,” she replied, “is that I do not know if this is a problem.”

“Bwa ha ha. Makes sense,” I laughed. “There’d be no end to it if you had to worry about every little thing.”

“According to the principles of Pablohetra, my duty is to respect the decisions of the rulers of each world,” Ottolulu said.

As the Arbitration Goddess, Ottolulu maintained neutrality. Now, if only the rulers of other worlds thought the same...

“Pablohetra seeks information. May I investigate this gallery?” she asked.

“Do as you please.”

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Ottolulu bowed once and left.

I turned to Misha. “Misha. Where did you put it?”

“This way.”

I followed Misha through the gallery. Beside her, Sasha looked at us curiously.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Costoria and Atzenon’s Lions of Ruin are after mom,” I replied. “I’ve got Aeges on guard, but the people pursuing her are residents of the deep-level worlds. Even with Equis’s protection, there’s no telling what could happen.”

“I get that, but what does that have to do with the gallery?”

Misha opened a door to a room, where inside a single painting was displayed.

“Huh? There’s a picture in this frame already.” Sasha stared at the painting. It was a portrait of a silver tiger cub. “What’s this—”

“Rawr!”

Sasha flinched back. The tiger cub in the painting had moved forwards with a cute roar.

“Don’t tell me... Just like Equis...”

“When she detects the causality of war, she’ll leap from the painting and protect mom with her life. She’ll buy her some time.” I took the painting into my hands. “Besides, mom likes cats.”

“It’s a tiger,” Sasha pointed out.

“Rawr!” the tiger cub version of Maytilen roared menacingly.

I glared at her coldly with the Magic Eyes of Mauve.

“M-Mew...” the tiger cub cried weakly.

“It’s a cat,” I corrected.

“Whatever...” Sasha muttered tiredly.

Misha meowed back at the tiger cub in the painting.

“Shall we get going, Farris?” I said, turning around. I had heard his approaching footsteps.

“Where to?” he asked.

“Dilhade. You should see how our nation has changed in the past two thousand years with your own eyes.”

Farris gasped. He had the face of a man struck by inspiration, as though a sudden vision was expanding in his mind.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“No. I have already seen the change. Right here, at this very moment.”

“Oh?”

He walked past me, ignoring my questioning look, to stand before the wall. It was tall, wide, and white like a canvas.

“No matter how far you are from home, I can see a glimpse of the new Dilhade in you and your followers, Your Majesty.”

He drew a magic circle and pulled out his beloved magic brush.

I could tell his senses were sharpening. The artistic soul he hadn’t revealed in the midst of battle was now bared in front of me, quietly, warmly. He’d said he only had a vague idea of what to draw, but his head was full of images already. It was this look, out of all the ones I’d seen, that suited him best.

“Oh, how beautiful this world is,” Farris murmured.

Magic particles gathered where Farris moved his brush. On the gallery wall layers of color were placed as if by magic.

Three primary colors merged together, forming a myriad of subsequent shades. The colors gained shape, and in the span of mere seconds, an image took form. Having poured his entire soul into the work, at its completion, Farris was panting and sweating heavily.

“What do you think?” he asked, turning around and kneeling before me. “Here is the painting of peace I promised you two thousand years ago, Your Majesty.”

On the large canvas of the wall had been drawn a single path—not any particular street of Dilhade, but a fictional path. A large number of demons were walking it: Misha, Sasha, Shin, Lay, Misa, Arcana, Eleonore, Zeshia, and Eldmed—all my subordinates were walking the same path together.

At the center was the Demon King, smiling. He stood shoulder to shoulder with his followers as they all walked the path to peace. The Demon King wore a gentle, virtuous smile I had never made in my life.

“It barely looks like me,” I mumbled.

Sasha stared at the wall with a conflicted look while Misha shook her head. Farris waited quietly for my next words.

“Someone once told me the Sacred Silverwater Sea is overrun with oppression and injustice. Are there more worlds like Balandias out there?” I asked.

“Not everything is beautiful. The principles of Pablohetra, the lull of the silver seas. The surface of the sea is rough, which is why we rise against it with hope,” Farris replied honestly. Judging from his expression, he had seen some awful worlds in his time.

“I love it. I can’t wait to see your next work,” I said to him instead.

“Do you have any requests?” he asked, still on his knees.

“The sea. Stay with me, burn the sight of me into your mind, and paint it all here, on the wall of the Gallery of Causality.”

I gestured at the white walls of the room we were in.

“This time, I’ll show you the lull of the silver seas.”

Farris looked up at me, Magic Eyes sparkling just like they did two thousand years ago. Now that his wish for a picture of peace had been fulfilled, he couldn’t help but seek further peace to paint—something like the sight of the Sacred Silverwater Sea, sparkling beautifully.

“Throughout every reincarnation, my soul is with you,” he said, bowing his head and pledging his allegiance once more. “I devote myself to painting for you, Your Majesty.”

He was capable of changing this white wall into a beautiful painting. And from here on, he’d show me images I’d never expect, colors I couldn’t imagine, scenes that looked more genuine than the real thing. There was no predicting how the artist Farris Noin would fly when he spread his wings across a canvas and let his imagination soar.

I couldn’t wait to see what he’d do next.

The End

Afterword

By the time this volume goes on sale, the Misfit of Demon King Academy artbook by Shizumayoshinori will also be on sale. Illustrations play a huge role in light novels, as they give a concrete image to text descriptions and make characters more appealing to the readers.

I believe the way Shizumayoshinori can portray the characters I spend three to four hundred pages describing in a single image is amazing. The release of the artbook is a wonderful opportunity to look back on all the illustrations released until now. I’ve loved all the cover illustrations published so far, as they invoke a real sense of excitement and wonder for what kind of story the volume will contain.

My favorites among them are volume 7 and 8. The Anos of volume 7 is depicted true to his character. He has an enlightened aura about him, holding himself with the pride and composure of a Demon King, but you can still see his determination towards stopping the threat to the underground world. His relationship with the Fan Union behind him is also conveyed in this wonderful illustration. Volume 8’s cover shows Anos and Ceris standing back-to-back. It’s a heavy and tense piece to look back on after reading the events of the volume, but I couldn’t have asked for anything better. Frankly speaking, it’s simply the best.

Other scenes like Misha’s smile at the end of volume 1, Shin and Reno’s parting in volume 4 act 2, or the Anos in volume 8, page 416... I tried my best to convey them through text, but there’s no beating the way illustrations can convey the scenes so clearly. Every time I see them, I’m so happy and think, Yes! That’s exactly what I was going for! If you have the time, please check out the artbook.

Of course, the wonderful illustrations of this volume were also drawn by Yoshinori Shizuma. Thank you very much. I’ve also been greatly indebted to Editor Yoshioka. Thank you very much too.

Finally, to the readers, I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I’ll do my best with the next volume too, so please look forward to it.

SHU

4 January 2022