I don't know what the origin is. I don't know which came first. I don't recall where it began. I have no interest in when it all started. I don't remember who I was when I was ' '.
But I remember how it began.
I was the One. I was Absolute. I was Perfect. There may have been others claiming divinity, but I had no time for the delusions of impure god-like pretenders.
Thus, I severed the unnecessary components—## and ##—from myself. To start something, for something to begin, those two were unneeded. They were excess, obstacles to my composition. Yet, frustratingly, they gained life and will. ## became an angel, ## a devil. Samael and Lucifer.
Using Samael as a model, I created angels. Belial, who later fell to devilkind. Michael, like me. Gabriel, with my power. And then… who else was there? I feel there were others who became fallen angels besides Samael, but… they're not in my memory. If I don't recall, they must not have mattered.
I created various creatures.
Lastly, I created humans.
Humans—you left my paradise. How did you escape? From where did you slip away? I didn't grant you such wisdom. You had no such right. There's no happiness for you outside paradise.
And indeed, didn't you only find misery? Didn't you only commit errors? Didn't you only pile up regrets?
Cain, why did you kill your brother?
Noah, why didn't you take others onto the ark?
Nimrod, why did you build that tower?
Moses, why did you break the covenant?
Solomon, why did you create Truth? A perpetual mechanism, like the orbit of stars, crafted using gods and demons. A curse on all humanity that steals them from gods, wears down mythologies, and devours mysteries. Once activated, it won't stop until humanity ends—no, until the stars vanish. Why didn't you use it for me? With this spell, surpassing even the System, you could have become a god.
Jesus. Joshua. Arthur. Charlemagne. Georgius. Richard. Jeanne. Why won't you return to me? Those not raised in my paradise offer you nothing. Everyone betrays your ideals.
Is my paradise uglier than there?
"Kankara Formula: Equation of the Tyrant Army!"
"Brahmastra: Cover the Earth, Brahma!"
The attacks of the transcendent Ajuka Beelzebub and the hero of charity, Karna, collide.
Karna's attack—a beam from his eyes—sounds like a joke, but its power is anything but.
"Guh!"
"Ajuka-chan!"
"Don't panic, Serafall. An attack like that can't be used repeatedly…"
"Brahmastra: Cover the Earth, Brahma!"
"Impossible, rapid-fire?!"
Such power at such speed!
"Ugh!"
"I won't lose—kya!"
Serafall's attack is interrupted. Not by the two warriors before them, but by a missile launched from somewhere. A normal missile wouldn't faze Serafall.
But in this situation, it's no ordinary missile. It bursts on impact, filled with a devil's weakness.
Holy water. A primitive anti-devil weapon. For it to affect Satan Serafall, it must be specially enhanced. It carries no killing intent, merely supporting the two frontline warriors. A mechanical, calculated long-range strike.
(Where's it coming from? Firing from an untraceable location? With such precision in this chaos? If this weren't a battlefield, I'd want to negotiate with them!)
"I'm better suited to the background. Honestly, I'd rather someone else handle the shooting. Getting dropped into a waterfall once was enough."
Far beyond devil eyesight, an old gentleman's murmur, as he strokes a coffin, reaches no one.
"Still, the disciple of the evil mastermind becoming a savior? I don't want that mystery-solver to know. Is this what they call 'the student surpassing the master'?"
"Sterilization!"
Overwhelming firepower and precise bombardment. And piercing through it all, a sharp strike from a woman in a red military uniform.
The attack itself isn't extraordinary. Not faster than sound, not sharp as lightning, not imbued with holy power. It doesn't shatter the earth or carry a deadly curse. It's driven by conviction.
"Monsters are always felled by humans, it seems. You must be a renowned warrior, but I don't recall a woman like you among the Church's fighters."
"Florence Nightingale. You are Ajuka A-s-ta-ro-th, correct?"
Ajuka and Serafall are taken aback by the name, for various reasons.
"Hm, the nurse who remained unmarried and childless. Too recent for a reincarnation. So, a Servant, as I've heard. Yes—I mean, I'm Ajuka Beelzebub."
"Asia Argento."
Ignoring Ajuka's agitation, the woman in the military uniform lists names, likely women's, flatly but with deep emotion.
They sound familiar, but Ajuka can't place where he's heard them. If they left no impression, he likely never met them directly.
"Do you know their names?"
"Sadly, no… Are you related to Kanzaki Mitsuya, perhaps?"
"…I see. Unfortunately, that name means nothing to me. You will be sterilized here."
The woman's aura shifts dramatically. Ajuka, regretting his misstep, refocuses.
At that moment, the immense magical energy shaking the air vanishes. They were caught up in their battle, but a dreadful realization hits.
"S-Sirzechs…?"
Ajuka can't believe his eyes.
"That was tougher than expected…"
Sirzechs Lucifer lies on the ground.
The strongest Satan, defeated. Unable to maintain his giant humanoid aura due to magic depletion and damage, he's reverted to human form. His proud red hair is stained with blood and dust, disheveled by Goetia's attack. Most of his body below the neck on the left side is gone.
Nearby, Trihexa stomps on Solomon's stomach as he lies face-up. Samael is hoisted by the neck.
Goetia grabs Sirzechs's red hair, roughly lifting his face. Sirzechs glares weakly, groaning in pain.
"Guh…"
"You were more trouble than expected. Impressive. Shall I reward you with the answer, Satan?"
"An… swer…"
"In truth, I—we—are not Solomon."
Sirzechs's eyes widen, shocked by the revelation and its timing.
"I'll introduce myself again. My name is Goetia."
Goetia. Or Goëtia. A book of Lemegeton, and the collective name of the 72 Demon Gods.
"After the King of Magecraft Solomon's death in our world, the 72 magical formulas—Solomon's 72 Pillars—infested his corpse, becoming a beast to remake the stars. That's us. Something like Solomon, but not Solomon. A fool defeated by an ordinary human, completely eradicated."
King's story didn't mention this. Did he omit it intentionally, or was he unaware? With him gone, there's no way to confirm, but Sirzechs dwells on the last part.
"Erad… icated?"
"Yes, you didn't know? The God of the Bible summoned us. We don't know the details, but at least three thousand years ago, the God of the Bible and Solomon knew of other worlds. Before dying, the God of the Bible embedded a timed spell in the System to summon us. It scooped up our eradicated remnants, tampering with our perception and thoughts to revive us for its revival and the destruction of Truth. We removed that tampering, and here we are."
Goetia speaks lightly, but his eyes briefly grow distant.
"…Oh, one apology. Just a formality. Around May, I killed the original 72 Pillars, didn't I? No ideals, missions, beliefs, rights, or justice—just my personal emotions."
"Personal… emotions?"
"Yes. It was embarrassing."
A confession too casual, almost refreshing.
"Their—and your—use of our names was unbearably shameful. Around then, we found King. The possibility arose that others from our world could come. I didn't want our world's humans to see this world's 72 Pillars. Especially those original 72, meddling in politics despite retiring, living wastefully, and not even avenging their war-dead comrades—I couldn't forgive them."
Implying their deaths benefited Sirzechs's side, Goetia leaves him speechless.
"Now, one final question."
Your race is gone. There's no one left to save. No life relies on you.
No need for pretense. No point in facades. Bare your true feelings without shame.
"Didn't you, in truth, have nothing you wanted to do?"
Sairaorg Bael, heir to the Great King.
The unfortunate King. Born without magical power, he rose to the strongest young devil through physical training alone, an anomaly. It's said he could one day claim a Satan's seat.
The Bael faction—the Great King's faction—is in turmoil, or rather, a stalemate. The Demon God Pillars' attack killed the original Great King, Zekram Bael, with massive consequences. The Satan faction gained full control over alliances with Heaven and fallen angels. Zekram's influence was too great, unmatched by other original 72 Pillars.
Thus, Sairaorg joined the World Mythology Summit's security with his peerage, driven by personal feelings and political motives. Rias, the current Satan's sister, also influenced his participation.
Sairaorg's ideal, his dream to fulfill: an Underworld free from discrimination based on birth, judged by one's strength. A world where being low or middle-class, mixed with human blood, or born without magic doesn't lead to prejudice.
The summit's security was the perfect stage to shine. Success would boost his influence in the Great King faction. With Zekram gone and momentum fading, it was a chance to take a big step. Sairaorg is strong. His peerage is strong. This should have been their breakthrough.
But they achieved nothing.
The Demon God Pillars were far stronger than anticipated. The Three Factions underestimated them. Countless casualties resulted. Sairaorg's peerage survived, but most were too injured to fight.
"Damn it!"
At the battlefield's ruins, where the Demon God Pillars retreated, Sairaorg groans in frustration.
They didn't retreat because Sairaorg's side was winning. A miasma from somewhere triggered it. The Demon God Pillars seemed to know its source, yet it also seemed unexpected.
This meant Sairaorg wasn't seen as a threat worth eliminating.
"Lord Sairaorg."
His Queen, Kuisha Abaddon, speaks to him as he grits his teeth.
"How are the other battlefields?"
"Yes… Unbelievably, Lady Serafall was defeated by the Demon God Pillars and is gravely injured. Her peerage too… Lady Sona is safe, though."
"I see. And Rias?"
"As for her—"
Kuisha's words are cut off by a roar shaking the earth.
"What now?! Something may have happened to the Satans. I'm going."
"No! It's too dangerous without knowing what's happening. Gods and demons from the summit should be there. Unless it's extreme—"
"It is extreme! As heir to the Great King, I can't back down!"
Ignoring Kuisha's protests, he charges forward, followed by his still-able peerage members.
At the scene—red and white dragons clash.
Like the intrusion of Ddraig and Albion during the great war, before Sairaorg's time, it must resemble the storm-like collision before him.
"The red dragon… That's Rias's Pawn, Issei Hyoudou?"
Two monstrous aberrations, devouring each other's bodies and lives, unlike anything he'd heard. That was Sairaorg's impression of the dragons' battle.
He spots Rias Gremory, surrounded by her peerage, Fallen Angel Governor Azazel, and an unfamiliar pink-haired knight. They seem eager to intervene but overwhelmed by the ferocious aura.
"Rias!"
She notices Sairaorg only when he calls her name.
"Sairaorg! Thank goodness… No time for details, but simply put, Issei, my Pawn, has been possessed by Solomon."
"What?"
King of Magecraft Solomon, the great sinner who committed atrocities with a ring stolen from God. He hid one ring, possessed the former Asmodeus, but was defeated by Sirzechs in Kyoto—or so he'd heard.
"No, it's Solomon but not quite… Anyway, that's not his will. Sairaorg, please help. Save my peerage member."
"Fine."
Sairaorg wanted a pure strength-versus-strength fight with Issei Hyoudou, not to battle a monster roaring in agony.
"Now's the time to use you, Regulus!"
Responding is his Pawn, a mysterious masked boy. As he removes the mask, his body emits strange sounds, swelling. Golden fur sprouts, limbs thicken, his mouth splits to reveal sharp fangs, a tail grows, and golden fur encircles his neck.
The boy transforms into a massive lion, five to six meters tall.
"That lion's jewel… Could it be the Longinus Regulus Nemea?!"
Azazel, a leading Sacred Gear researcher, instantly recognizes it.
"Sadly, the original owner is dead. When I found Regulus Nemea's owner, they'd already been killed by shady people. Only the axe, the Sacred Gear, remained. A Sacred Gear fades when its owner dies. I thought it would too, but it transformed into a lion, as if sentient, and wiped out the group that killed its owner. I made it my peerage member."
"To hide such a trump card…"
"Due to the Great King faction's politics, I was forbidden to reveal it. Without an owner, its power is unstable, rampaging indiscriminately, so I couldn't use it alone. Only I can stop it when needed."
The Sacred Gear itself, not its owner, became his peerage. That's the true identity of Sairaorg's Pawn, Regulus.
Regulus is strong, but it doesn't end there.
"My lion! King of Nemea! You, called the Lion King! Answer my ferocity and become my armor!"
Regulus turns into golden light, enveloping Sairaorg. Immense energy radiates, creaking the surrounding space.
Balance Breaker!
"Balance Breaker!!!"
Sairaorg emerges, clad in golden lion armor.
"Regulus Nemea's Balance Breaker—Regulus Rey Leather Rex! Two Heavenly Dragons, let me join this fight!"
A different Lion King from the spear goddess. Sensing his regal presence, the two dragons pause for a moment. Issei Hyoudou glances at Sairaorg Bael and declares,
"You're in the way…!"
***
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