In the Northern District, where artists were the gathered as shut-ins who didn't want to leave their homes, a particular building was standing tall. That place that seemed similar to a church's cathedral stood out amongst the dusty and unkept houses.

The regular citizens avoid this place... It wasn't exactly a slum. It was just for the 'unkept' types.

The artists who were too obsessed with art...

"Failure... is unacceptable..." In a secret room of that building, where tens of the Radiant Sword Mirror Cult's believers gathered, a 'Devil' sitting on what seemed to be a throne spoke in a soft voice.

However, although he didn't shout or curse, these words caused those who heard them to feel a tingling sensation of terror. The chill ran up and down their spines, forcing them into submission.

Those praying Cultists felt goosebumps...

The terrifying man shifted his eyes to a white-clothed young girl before him with cold eyes expressing killing intent. Her face was covered in a hood. One which completely hid her face.

The demonic man looked to the ceiling, as if seeing something no one else could. He then spoke words so unbelievably 'Machiavellian' and full of vanity that one would see him as insane: "Above the boundless Earth, I alone am worthy of honour."

His words caused his believers to be startled as they felt like these words were significant to them.

This was his personal mantra...

It was the exact reason he gathered up a Cult of worshipers. He felt he deserved this honour.

No Devil or God were worthy... besides him.

They worshipped him for the exact reason. They believed that this 'Devil' was an enlightened man.

Those who believed they could even compare to the arrogant figure sitting before them would be considered heretics. Who could compare themselves to creator of the Vanity Attribute?

Therefore, the devilish 'God' continued:

"Do you know fear?"

"Yes, My Lord." The hooded girl, who covered most her face, shivered. From the very moment she had been taken in by the Cult, there was not once where she didn't feel fearful of her 'Demonic Lord'.

"They say fear can be harnessed into strength in order to survive. That it gives greater caution.

However, why is it you're unable to find a way to survive despite having the strength to do so?

I remember already giving a chance.

I took in a 'Failure' like you from that Prison Laboratory the Royal Family are so secretive of.

Yet you still ended up just short of living up to my expectations of you..." The demonic figure sitting comfortably on his throne didn't look angry. His demeanour had no intimacy towards the 'Failure'.

This was despite her having a high position..,

Surely, he treated everyone like this. Knowing this clear fact, however, didn't make her feel any better.

She bowed her head deeply and begged:

"I sincerely apologise for-"

"Enough." The devilish man didn't allow her speak any further. He was already fed up with the girl.

He turned his head to look at a glass coffin beside him. The beautiful figure inside 'slept' quietly.

A hint of gentleness appeared in his eyes the moment he looked at the woman laying within.

She seemed motionless as if frozen in ice...

These abrupt changes in attitude made his worshippers more fearful rather than happy.

After all, they never knew when was the next time he could lash out. He was like an abusive parent.

One that had a tight grip on their necks...

Unlike humans, the woman within the coffin and purple skin as well as other small features different from regular people. Her innate beauty was so high that even her motionless body left one breathless.

Perhaps others would find it strange why the so-called 'Lord' of their Cult kept a woman's corpse.

That too, in the same Sanctuary he lived.

However, those high-ranking members here today were well-aware that the purple-skinned woman was once the lover of their respected 'Demon Lord'. Her identity was veiled in mystery...

All they knew was her Mystic Race...

As those of her Race hadn't been interacting with Gaia Humanity for many centuries, even the most knowledgeable Scholar would be hard-pressed to answer any questions regarding her origins.

Their Lord gazed at the woman. His eyes reddened when his fingers accidentally dug into his palms.

His grip was too strong...

'If only I was different...' The man kept his thoughts to himself. He regretted being unable to save her.

Yet still, he continued his path...

He looked like was waiting... and holding himself back so he could get what he was searching for.

The 'Demon Lord' of their Cult then turned his attention back to the girl kneeling before him.

"As the only Priestess of my Cult, your worth is far more than others. That, you should already know.

Therefore, I will give you another chance... At very least: As long as you form a 'Contract' with me.

Once you make a certain promise that can never be broken even with your death, I'll allow you to gain the freedom you had always been dreaming of." The hooded girl's shoulders stopped shaking after hearing her Lord's coldhearted words.

Her eyes, which were staring at the floor, turned upwards to make eye-contact with her Lord.

"What are the conditions?" The hooded Priestess asked courageously towards the demonic figure.

The devilish 'Mortal God'. The man who had controlled her life and destiny... smiled wickedly.

A rare satisfied expression arose on his face.

The manipulative Demon Lord seemed to have already gotten her in the palm of his hand.

Little did the two know that at this moment, an armoured spearman was making his way to this secret area. He did so without alerting any of incredibly sharp Cultists guarding the cathedral...

Σ(･口･) Wait!

Who the heck was he?!

No, seriously I don't know who—?! How?!

Wait, this scene wasn't supposed to play out like this! Who the heck is he?! Why don't I know?!

...Maybe I'll be able to figure it out while watching.

The helmet wearing spearman speed was beyond anyone's comprehension. He made his way to the deeper levels of this heavily guarded base with clear anxiety in his eyes. The demonic figure slowly stood from his throne as the man was arriving.

The people in the room weren't alerted yet...

It was only when the spearman saw that she had yet to make the 'promise' that he seemed relieved.

Was interrupting them his goal...?

"What I want you to promise is-" As their Lord was about to finish his sentence, a large explosion blew away the tightly locked doors of this highly secret room. The believers gathered in this place were astonished at the spearman sudden intrusion.

[Light Spell- Noontime Javelin!]

The helmeted 'Dragoon' (I think...) threw his weapon before grabbing hold of the young hooded Priestess. He stopped her from forming an unbreakable 'Contract' with the Demon Lord.

A curious light appeared in the demonic figure's eyes. He watched everything play out with a surprised expression. His eyes recognised the spearman to have already reached the 'Lord Rank'.

He was only a step away from the absolute peak!

In that instant of time, the Cult's Lord didn't seem that moved by the incoming beam of light.

Even as the magic infused spear arrived near his face with deadly accuracy and precision, he only waved his hand before him. This quickly caused that seemingly ultimate strike to be slapped away.

He blocked a Spell with his barehands!

It was almost comical how weak the light speed attack looked. The Demon Lord's actions made it appear as if that extremely dangerous spear of light was merely made of straw. How intimidating...

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Still, that helmeted spearman caused me more dread. It made me wonder exactly who he was.

The way it was slapped away would make one think that there really wasn't any power behind the thrown 'Noontime Javelin' at all...! Not that it mattered to the intruder who grabbed the girl.

The intruder seemed free of any worries...

As the javelin hit the ground and caused an explosion of light that lit up the room, he spoke:

"I suggest you let go of her. You wouldn't even be able to escape from here with teleportation, and the girl you're holding isn't much of a hostage in my eyes. Do you want to make demands?" The demonic figure threatened with hidden emotions.

He was deciding on what to do next...

Despite having such enormous power, this small distraction when the Demon Lord was feeling indecisive gave the spearman before him enough time to grab his Cult's only Priestess by the throat.

He didn't know what the spearman wanted, but was sure that 'young man' with the helmet wouldn't be able to escape from his grasp. Even the Grand Hero would have to stay alert around him,

This was especially if he was placed in the same room as this man, who controlled an entire Cult.

In the Demon Lord's life, he had battled many foes and achieved a speed fast enough to take advantage of the small momentary time gap before a teleportation could activate.

As the leading figure of the Cult and 'Creator the Vanity State' of the Evil Attribute, it wasn't hard for one to understand that he had already reached a high attainment of strength. One that would be unfathomable to those 'Noble Rankers' of Lancia.

Unfortunately, his domineering attitude didn't seem to move the young man in any meaningful way.

A strong turbulence of energy covered their body...

...Wait, is he doing what I think he's doing??!

The hooded Priestess didn't even have time to resist. They were disintegrated by chaotic energy released from him. Not teleported, but truly killed in body and soul...! It was a double suicide!

Why?! Why did that guy-?!

(눈_눈)

Hah... Forget it. Calm down... Nothing comes from being agitated. Mr Wallkin, find your inner peace.

The demonic figure was silent.

He repeated what happened in his head...

A small scream left the hooded girl's mouth when it happened. Traces of their corpses were also there.

They both were disintegrated thoroughly without leaving anything behind. It was truth was clear.

This left demonic figure was stunned...

Everything had happened before him way too fast!

His body awkwardly stood there. He wondered what sort of grudge the suicidal spearman had towards the young Priestess. She hadn't lived outside long enough to make any enemies.

So was this an act done towards the Cult...?

He didn't understand what just happened...

...but what he DID know was that he lose a precious chess piece. A pawn in his future plans.

Seeing his bad mood, one of his 'faithful' spoke:

"Umm... My Lord?"

"Speak..." He unconsciously glared at the man.

The Demon Lord looked like this: (﹁﹁)~→

His squinting eyes held a lot of annoyance and animosity towards what had just transpired.

"...What happened just now? 'We' ask for your guidance." The believer asked in reliance.

"Hah... Just forget this happened." He sighed before trying to cover up this... 'embarrassment'.

"Err... What?"

"You heard me right." The demonic figure decided that... he might as well sweep this under the rug and act like nothing happened. It would really feel uncomfortable if others found out he actually let their Cult's Priestess die in vain out of nowhere.

Without giving everyone time to react, he looked around at the believers and strongly to pressure them all into siding with him. His pride wouldn't allow anyone else criticise him, even in their heads.

Although the hooded girl was a great chess piece to him, he wasn't worried about his future plans.

As long as he existed, everything would go well.

Well, you can also call this baseless confidence...

But who the hell cared? The worshipers built their faith off of the belief that he was overpowered.

"You all didn't see anything, right?" The Demon Lord smiled towards his believers 'kindly'.

"We-"

"You all didn't see anything, riiiiight?" He lifted his brow, as if to say "Play along!" to the lot of them.

They immediately went with this unnatural flow:

"Nothing! We saw nothing happen..."

"My Lord, I think I have amnesia."

"I was asleep with my eyes open the whole time."

"I was busy looking at the floor to see anything."

The believers forcefully laughed and made a bunch of excuses in order to pretend nothing happened.

They were well aware that their Lord had his pride hurt today... That's why they decided to play along.

And while they were busy acting like nothing happened, I noticed two people far away from the cathedral in the Northern District. This surprised me once again, because I couldn't predict it...!

Why couldn't I, the narrator, predict a character?!

Was he the same as the Author? Why wasn't I told anything about him? Any why can't I 'read' him?!

My telepathic ability to read out the background and history of characters won't work on him...

But because it did on the hooded girl, I quickly realised that they appeared 5 minutes ago.

Wasn't this an inconsistency...?

How did two versions of the exact same characters appear in the same timeline? It didn't make sense!

Hmmm, was this the Swampman Principle...?

When the masked Priestess, who seemed to be fine despite having disintegrated earlier, looked around, she realised they were in the Southern District where Nobles and regular citizens resided.

Wait, should I consider her the clone of that young girl who died or the real thing? What should I do...?

Well, she's an important character. I guess it's fine as long as SOME version of her still existed.

"Why did you bring me here?" The hooded Priestess asked the helmeted spearman. The strange man who still clutching her throat in a dark alleyway. A place where people couldn't see...

Even though she was normally physically stronger than your average person and had many special hidden abilities just waiting to be unleashed, she felt powerless while in the hands of the spearman.

She didn't ask for his identity. The girl could tell the helmet he wore was probably a disguise so he wouldn't be recognised. The thought of struggling didn't arise in her mind. Perhaps she could feel the sharpness of the fingers clutching on her throat.

There seemed to be talons waiting to stretch out on each nail. It was a little bit similar to Lily...

Anyway, the Priestess felt completely powerless...

For the first time in her life, she found that there exists someone who was both stronger and faster than her. So much so to point of easily capturing her. There must also be something about him.

She wondered if he was ALSO created at the Prison Laboratory, which was my thought too.

Not only that, but it was a young spearman of the opposite gender. A 'male', so to speak...

He was one of those beings she had the least contact with due to role as a Priestess. She had only heard about 'boys' through other female Cultists that would care for her at the cathedral...

They didn't have a high opinion on males...

Even going as far as to tell her:

"Men are all disgusting perverts."

"Guys always have ulterior motives."

"Never trust your boyfriend if he had an ex!"

"Husbands are cheating sons of-"

There was a lot of broken-hearted maidens. She'd sometimes have to console when they entered the Cult for such reasons. You could even say that they became the reason she was more guarded towards guys in particular... A sexist paranoia indeed.

But not one that would stay for long.

But getting back to the main point: Right now, there was a extremely powerful spearman before her.

He had one of his arms wrapped around her chest while the other was tightly clutching on her throat.

The soft 'buns' she had under her clothes weren't being groped, but they were certainly being powerfully 'pressured' by him. She was on the verge of fighting back regardless of the results.

Her rational mind at least let her speak first:

"But... before answering that. Ahem... Could you let go me a second?" The girl asked weakly under her hood, which hid her embarrassment. Her voice was very clear and girly despite her getup that covered most the skin of her body, even up to her ears!

"You're name is 'Fear', right?" The helmeted spearman ignored how innocent she was acting and asked with a interrogating voice. She was unsure of what he would do to her if she didn't answer, so she meekly nodded her head at him.

Her voice was unable to come out of her mouth.

The girl thought of scenarios she heard such a situation would lead to. Was she being kidnapped?

Her face underneath her hood was pale, but she quickly decided to be honest with her saviour.

There was no reason to lie anyway..,

"Hide you're identity and never come into contact with those Cultists ever again. You always wanted freedom to do whatever you want, right? Consider this an opportunity to do just that." The spearman didn't seem to notice her plight whatsoever.

He impolitely dragged her deeper into the alleyway so nobody would see their... 'intimate' interactions.

The Priestess was surprised by how the man knew so much about her, but suddenly remembered a single tragic event that happened to one of the female Cultists that took care of her. Her heart shuddered in realisation of what was happening!

'Is he a 'Stalker'?' She once heard such a person was the kind to follow her wherever she went and try to uncover her secrets. Tears almost started leaking from her eyes at the thought of this.

The young girl realised she must have been 'stalked' for a long time for him to figure that out.

She even felt like praying to the Holy God for his blessings despite being a Priestess of a Cult!

The teen girl looked like this inwardly: (人◕ω◕)

She was hoping that the Demon Lord wouldn't hold it against her about using this chance to escape.

However, her thoughts then took a turn. She remembered that this is a bad thing. Although she got out of the Demon Lord's clutches, was there any reason why she should be celebrating?

'I'm done for...! I don't want to be captured by a stalker-pervert-hybrid!' Her misinterpretation of the situation went unnoticed though. The strange man suddenly let go of her without asking more.

The former Priestess reflexively put her arms over her chest and glared angrily at him after he did.

It was a way to scare him off...

But seeing that it didn't work, she pulled out a mask from her clothes and put in on immediately.

Her mask was a scary one indeed!

The girl called 'Fear' secretly got this from one of the many kind of artistic salesmen of Lancia.

This was a mask that seemed more like it was used to hide terrifying features than a Halloween mask.

Not that they had such a celebration on Gaia...

Anyway, the young Priestess pulled down her hood and showed off the entirety of the intricate mask.

Fear widened her eyes like this: (●﹏●)

There seemed to be a black hole of animosity in those eyes... under her now 'intimidating' mask.

She was too scared to use any of her abilities...

Especially against this overpowering spearman who could instantly bring her to the Southern District. He even did it from right in front of the invincible Demon Lord she had served...!

In fact, she believed this terrifying man definitely had a similar level of strength to her great Lord!

"What do you want from me?" Fear shivered like a deer in Antarctica while asking as calm as she could. Not even Classless Beasts or creatures from other Mystic Races were as scary as this person!

He scared her witless...

"Nothing. Just go live well, okay...? Oh, you don't have a home, right... so, here is a place you can stay at. Knock on this door of this address and explain your circumstances to the scholarly brat.

Don't worry, he'll come to the door even if you don't knock. Then he'll take you in and treat you well if you're polite to him." The stranger confused her by speaking softly to her like an old friend.

This was different from how the Demon Lord spoke, it wasn't a calm voice hiding dark secrets but a gentle voice filled with indescribable warmth... This particular moment was suspicious.

Was he a time traveller? I know that sounds outrageous, but it's normal to think inside a story.

What character type was impossible in fiction?

But this still made be quite suspicious. I'm pretty sure I'd be able to use my omniscient perspective to figure him out if he was one. There is something about him that blocks me out from 'reading' him...

I wonder what that was...

After she instinctively accepted the paper with an address written on it, her eyes suddenly blinked.

She was about to thoughtlessly ask why he was treating her this way. However, before she could even speak, the young man disappeared before her eyes as if he was only an illusion in her head.

The only evidence to his existence was paper in her hands. It made her want to trust the man.

She didn't know why, but her heart skipped a beat after she held the address close to her heart.

A naive little maiden like her who never knew the word 'romance' before... felt like everything that happened to her was too surreal to be true. She felt as if it was destiny's hands guiding her somewhere.

Even though it wasn't me or the Author doing that.

Wasn't her character supposed to be tragic?

This story wasn't an Action Romance. It was an Epic Fantasy! However, there was no doubt a gallant 'white knight' had saved her from becoming a slave to the Radiant Sword Mirror Cult...

She wanted to thank her friendly white knight for everything he did, but couldn't find him...!

'You know, you may be a pervert-stalker-knight-hybrid, but I don't really mind... I think?" If her thoughts were to be known by the 'white knight' in question, he might've immediately spit out blood...!

At least, that's what I think anyway... His mental interference is making it hard mention him.

I gotta go talk to the Author between chapters...

Anyway, a cute humming sound came from Fear's mouth. She quickly decided to put some trust in her saviour and headed for the address on the piece of paper. Unaware of where it'd lead her.

She, of course, changed her appearance first before that. Her Priestess outfit was conspicuous!

There was one name on the piece of paper that stood out amongst the text: {Alex Stuman}

A name that was already known by many...