Japan, a certain regional city.
"What… what was that just now…?"
Aika Kiryuu, a student at Kuoh Academy, mutters as if groaning.
She's in her room at home. Clutching her head, still reeling from the headache that just struck, she sits up. Only then does she realize she'd collapsed on the floor.
At her feet lies the magazine she was reading, open to a bizarre foreign article: "Mysterious Nurse Group Appears in Conflict Zones," "Modern Nightingales?" "Witnesses Say: 'I Met Angels Like Reapers.'" Aika barely glances at it, shaking her head to clear her mind.
"Solomon? One God? What's that about…? Fight? How am I supposed to fight? Fight what?"
Just seconds ago, she was assailed by a curse called a revelation. The headache came with an eerie voice, like an auditory hallucination, spouting words like Solomon, Human Order Denial Formula, and fight. They're all unfamiliar to Aika, except maybe Solomon—some ancient king from somewhere, right?
Straining her ears, she hears commotion outside her room. The neighborhood sounds chaotic too. Could everyone nearby have heard the same hallucination?
"No, that's not it…"
There's much to confirm, but the girl voices a single, pure question.
"Who was that voice so angry at?"
In this universe D, the magic and magecraft used today stem from the legendary mage Merlin Ambrosius, who analyzed demonic power and adapted it for human use.
Merlin Ambrosius. The renowned great mage. A half-human, half-incubus appearing in Welsh mythology, including the legend of King Arthur.
Yet, magic and magecraft existed in this world before his birth. So why did his system become mainstream, thriving even now? Where did such influence come from? More fundamentally, why did Merlin create a new form of magic and magecraft?
A fragment of that truth is revealed by Mephisto Pheles, director of the Grauzauberer mage association, the Extra Demon.
"—The Beast of Revelation, Trihexa. Born from the mud in a corner of the world, sleeping in God's cage. Only three groups in history found it. First, two thousand years ago, the Son of God—whom you humans call that Lord and we demons hesitate to name—along with his disciples."
The Son of God refused to fight Trihexa. He abandoned defeating it, believing someone else would one day defeat and save it.
"The order's off, but the last was recent. That annoying Lucifer's son, Rizevim Livan Lucifer, and his followers. I don't know who else was with him, and it doesn't matter."
Whatever drama the Morning Star's prince faced upon finding Trihexa is irrelevant to the main story. It's enough that they know.
"And then, me, Mephisto Pheles, and this world's Merlin Ambrosius. It's been about thirteen hundred years since then, hasn't it? Time flies. That his magical system spread so widely makes it all worthwhile."
The demon murmurs happily that he made it in time for the day devils fell.
"…I've always wondered."
Tobio Ikuse visits this demon. Not chasing Vali, not stalling the Old Man of the Mountain, not aiding other battlefields. Learning the truth of Solomon and Truth from the Old Man, he prioritized this.
Still staggering from the headache called God's revelation, he speaks.
"Extra Demon Mephisto Pheles. A great demon rivaling Beelzebub, one of the primordial demons. Yet your name only appears around the 16th century, becoming widely known through Goethe's play in the early 19th century. In the era when humanity recited the Bible, no one knew your name. But that's impossible, isn't it?"
It's a question, a confirmation, and an accusation.
"—Yes, exactly. I used Truth to erase my name from the human world. Just as Solomon had accomplices in Asmodeus and Belial, Merlin was my confidant. All for this moment. To prepare for the inevitable fall of demons, to advance the world's magecraft… Faust aside, Goethe got me good."
"How long have you been preparing?"
"What else? Since the days of Gilgamesh and Moses, four thousand five hundred years ago, obviously."
Even before Solomon's birth. For a demon with a ten-thousand-year lifespan, it's a plan spanning half their life.
"I despise the old Satans and wasn't born from Lilith. I'm no guardian of humans either, nor an ally of other mythologies. Like Great Red, I'm on the star's side—the tail end of this cosmology's deterrence. Four thousand five hundred years ago, demons chose to be the foundation of this star's evolution. That's why we needed to reform the concept of magic and magecraft. It was the most effective way to utilize demons until the day of extinction."
"…What happened four thousand five hundred years ago?"
"That— No, you shouldn't know. Humans in this world shouldn't know."
Mephisto closes his eyes, refusing to say more.
"You're a millennium too early to know. In a world with a god-slaying Savior, maybe, but humans here have no right."
"Then let's change the topic."
"Fou, foufou, nkyu!"
A blonde, blue-eyed beauty speaks—Lavinia Reni, a mage of Grauzauberer and wielder of the Longinus Absolute Demise. The white beast in her arms is a mysterious creature following Tobio.
"You said you hated the old Satans. But you also said you liked the new ones, like Sirzechs Lucifer. Even if you clashed with Ajuka Beelzebub over Rating Games, you had no ill will toward him."
"Yes, you remember well."
"Was that a lie? Do you actually hate the new Satans?"
"No, I love them."
Mephisto shakes his head at Lavinia's question. The white beast lets out a skeptical cry.
"Fou? Foufoufofoufo?"
"It's not a lie. I've always loved them, now and forever, as much as a random pebble."
Seeing the figure that appeared without warning, Sirzechs is stunned. Trihexa's eyes widen. Karna remains unfazed.
"Shalba…?"
"Yes, yes! The loser whose Satan throne you stole!"
It's Shalba Beelzebub.
Impossible.
He was supposed to be dead. Rizevim Livan Lucifer said Solomon killed him. And why didn't they notice his presence until now?
"It's judgment time, Sirzechs Lu-ci-fer!"
Shalba pounces on the still-shocked Sirzechs, pinning him down and strangling him. Normally, Sirzechs could shake him off, but battered from battles with Karna and Goetia, and overwhelmed by this shocking turn, his mind can't keep up.
"I waited, waited, waited for this moment! Finally, I can kill you—too late, you bastard!"
His curses aren't aimed at Sirzechs but at himself.
"Shalba, wait—"
"You'll never understand, Sirzechs. The pain of having my comrade Creuserey's body stolen by Solomon, of being killed once, my soul used as an experiment! The humiliation of being a test subject for otherworldly technology! The despair of my soul sealed in a puppet, mixed with lowly Phantasmal Beasts! Can you comprehend that!?"
Within Shalba Beelzebub are Jack-o'-lantern, the Beast of Gévaudan, Jersey Devil, Siren, Leprechaun, Invisible Man, Spriggan, Redcap, Laplace's Demon, Wendigo, Bigfoot, Inugami, Amanojaku, Gremlin—and countless other Phantasmal Beasts. Among them are Jack the Ripper and the Phantom of the Opera, who never reached Heroic Spirit status in this world.
Solomon did this to Shalba for mere experimentation. Knowledge of souls and bodies came from F. Experiments to see if he could become a god, to test soul capacity, to understand phase sublimation. So, Solomon discarded Shalba. Perhaps he felt something for the descendant of his accomplice?
It's unclear if he's truly Shalba anymore. His body is a puppet, his soul mostly Phantasmal. His mind's origin is ambiguous. Yet, despite such degraded purity, one emotion remains true—unfading hatred.
"I endured the humiliation of my soul's defilement for one reason: to kill you! I waited for you to weaken so much that even a loser like me could kill you…!"
"I'll kill you for destroying the Underworld!" Shalba roars. The stolen Satan throne is now trivial, laughably irrelevant.
"All of it, all of it, all of it, ALL OF IT! It's all your fault…! You destroyed the Underworld!"
"No, that's not true! Shalba! This was an attack on devils by otherworldly Demon Gods—"
"No, you destroyed it! You false Satans destroyed the devils!"
Shalba knows. He knows who burned this Underworld and why. He knows more than Sirzechs.
As a victim, he condemns the war criminal.
"You killed them. You killed them. You killed them! You killed them! You killed us devils! A Satan who destroyed his own kind!"
He judges the false Satan.
"If we true Satans had reigned, this wouldn't have happened! We devils should've kept fighting angels and fallen angels!"
"But if we fought, devils would've perished—"
"No, that's not true! We could've sustained devils far better! Because you destroyed us! Because of you, the Underworld was burned to ashes…! Not the true Satans' struggle, but your false peace destroyed us. That's the undeniable truth!"
He impeaches as an old Satan.
"Guh…!"
"Me! Katerea, Creuserey! Loyal devils who followed true Satans! Nobles swayed by you! Pitiful masses deceived by a cruel Satan like you! Young devils building the Underworld's future! Its children! You killed them all!"
He spews hatred as a single devil, a single life.
"Stop, stop…"
"Die, die, die, die, die! How dare you kill me! How dare you destroy us devils! You monster posing as a devil! A monster should've died alone! You living among devils caused this!!"
Not born a devil. Then, Sirzechs and Ajuka were never meant to be Satans. A non-devil can't rule devils.
Just as a human couldn't lead for God.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! It's not me! I'm not to blame! I—"
"No, you're to blame!"
If you weren't here, this wouldn't have happened.
Even if Shalba and the others hadn't lost their thrones, they couldn't have stopped Solomon's wrath, Samael's madness, the God of the Bible's delusion, Goetia's pity, or Trihexa's hatred. But the meaning behind it could've changed.
No matter how much they ponder, it's just what-ifs. But it'd be more valuable than this reality, more salvaged than this burned world.
If it's not Sirzechs's fault, there's no hope or dream. If devils were doomed to perish, if this end isn't a mistake, it means devils have no right to live.
"Oh, forgive me, all devils. I can only atone by killing this man. If this monster hadn't stolen the Satan's throne, the Underworld wouldn't have been destroyed! As a Satan, I have the responsibility to kill the root of this—you!"
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! I'm not bad, I'm not bad! I'm not bad! I can't be bad! I—"
"You destroyed us! You drove us to ruin! The foundation of a new world? Fuel for cosmic reformation? Are we devils just oil or something!? Don't screw with me! We were alive… we were alive!"
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"
"Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die!"
Die, incompetent king.
It's not just Shalba's curse but the resentful voices of all lives lost in this Underworld.
And so, the last Satan—Sirzechs Lucifer—dies.
Note:
A woman roared she'd never yield.
A man swore he'd never forgive them.
They challenged the world for their future.
They wouldn't lose to such evil.
Their words were unbearable nonsense.
Their dreams were insufferable delusions.
The northern god sneered. The southern demon laughed. The western dragon gaped. The eastern king raged.
In the end, the world destroyed them.
The Savior, built upon their corpses, gazed at a godless Heaven.
I shouldn't have forgiven the devils.
Abandoning the duty of hatred.
That was the newest Savior's greatest sin.
***
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