By the time he awoke, his vision was still dyed a brilliant crimson…
Several seconds later, he realised his sight was normal. In fact, it was the sky which was crimson.
Twilight. The time of change. From day to night, from night to day.
Absent-mindedly, he raised a hand up, as if to reach to the sky and grasp the sun…
And the skin that came into his vision was the muddled colour of rusted iron.
“Ah… I see.”
It was not a dream. He really had abandoned his entire self—his morals, his feelings, everything he stood for—in favour of gaining power for revenge.
And he hadn’t even accomplished that on his own…
“Reynald.”
The demon king spoke to him from outside his field of view.
“You may already have understood this when you saw, but…”
“You can’t revive her, huh.”
“It is not impossible… But even ignoring the damage to her body, much of her soul was eaten. Even if I were to revive her, the end result would be naught but a zombie that can only say “I love you” over and over.”
“That’s the part of her soul that was left? Hah…”
Reynald let loose a wry chuckle, and then dropped his arm to the ground.
“Hehe… Hehehe…”
He laughed and laughed, and soon enough, the laughs devolved into sobs.
The demon king averted his eyes and, after a moment’s hesitation, called forth a spare cloak and handed it to Reynald.
“Eh…?” Reynald managed to squeeze out between sobs.
“Dry your tears… Wear it… Cover her body with it… I am sure you will find some purpose for it.”
“Ah…”
Slowly, with the pace and the gait of a dead man, Reynald rose to his feet.
Perhaps he could take a memento… That cross necklace she always wore, or something…
The demon king, meanwhile, walked over to a pair of girls, lying unconscious on the ground. His eyes downcast, he knelt at their side.
In one hand, he took the hand of his daughter. A proper bandage covered her right eye, replacing his earlier makeshift handiwork, but…
To begin with, she had only been born from an extremely unlikely combination of circumstances. Rhud had already expressed that it had no confidence in its ability to recreate Misery’s End even if it had exactly the same materials, the same circumstances and the same mindset. Repairing Misery was all but impossible.
And in his other hand, he took the hand of the girl he had fought for.
The second resident of this world he would call a ‘friend’.
He had successfully saved her. That should be something to rejoice about…
But he could not rid himself of the feeling of melancholy in his chest.
The Hero’s tears had soured his mood.
He clicked his tongue… and decided that using his new power on his subordinates could wait a while. ‘Til a week before the invasion, or such…
Enough time to let them get accustomed to any new power they gained, but far enough into the future that it wasn’t right now.
Shaking his head, he squeezed the two girls’ hands.
He could practically feel his Goddess’s unseen hands overlap with his.
***
As it turned out, now that he had properly become divine, the demon king needed a vessel in order to manifest properly outside of the active range of the Thousand Throne of Darkness—in other words, the castle.
But the castle was the most powerful Thousand Throne in the world… so obviously, it had a few tricks that could be exploited, so to speak, in order to make his passage into the world outside easier. Tricks which, if utilised correctly, could lead to a full manifestation, anywhere in the world he liked.
A full manifestation… and, now that he had plenty of fuel, as long as he was provided with a proper motivator—say, the presence of Luciel—he might even manage to ascend to the stage beyond Angra Mainyu.
But such a complete manifestation obviously could not occur without adequate preparations… and adequate sacrifices.
And thus, through his link with the castle, he divined the ultimate way of preparing for such a thing… and eventually, on the map, pinpointed six locations.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
When joined together, they formed a set of triangles, and thus, a six-rayed star, at the centre of which lay…
For that reason, he had a single letter sent to the Holy Astal Kingdom. Of course, he had it delivered via a multitude of routes, so as to ensure it would reach its destination no matter what happened…
And that brought us to the current scene.
Cecilios Alexander Maximilian VII, for once, was not seated in his throne room, but in his private office. Though he barely fit behind his table, he had crammed himself in there anyway, since this was a matter of utmost importance.
The pope was also present, as was his eldest son… In fact, to begin with, it was the crown prince who had summoned his father and the pope to this place.
Cecilios was utterly uninterested in deciphering flowery political language to figure out the intent behind official letters and such, so ever since his son had been capable of it, he had started leaving the task to him.
“So? What is so urgent that you have called us both here?” asked the oversized king, resting his head on his hand… for as much as he could, anyway.
“Father,” the prince responded, “we have received… a missive. From the demon king’s subordinate… It is signed ‘Charlotte Wight, First Apostle of the Demon King’.”
The pope, though he was leafing through a nearby book he had plucked off a bookshelf, froze up, and Cecilios’s head slipped off his palm and impacted the table.
Rubbing his nose, he raised his face.
“... What does it say?”
The prince grabbed the letter off Cecilios’s desk, folded it open, almost started to dictate it… and then, instead, decided on a summary.
“To put it simply, they claim… that Lady Luciel’s rule of this land is illegitimate, that this land actually belongs to Entropy, and that if we refuse to hand it over, they will interpret that as a declaration of war, along with a list of the six locations they will attack first.”
“Wh…?!”
It was the absolute most absurd casus belli he had ever heard.
What’s more, with the way that was phrased—
“They will blame us…?” the pope asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Yes. In their eyes, the blame will lie solely with us.”
“Absurd!” the king bellowed, slamming his hand into the desk. “As if any other countries would—”
“In addition,” the prince interrupted, “there are four missives from the four elemental nations.”
In other words, the nomadic drakonids, the mermaids’ sea paradise, the elven forest and the dwarven kingdom.
Could it be, they wished to collude against the demon king—?!
“From the elves: ‘In order for natural order to be restored to this world, Luciel must be removed.’ From the drakonids: ‘Our holy flames will purge you from your stolen land.’ From the dwarves: ‘Our undying warriors will slay you all.’ From the mermaids: ‘Don’t count on us to defend you, you traitors.’ … And they are all appropriately signed by the tops of their countries.”
“Ghk…?!”
Cecilios let a sound escape his throat, though it could hardly be identified as any particular word, or even a specific vocalisation.
“What of the heroes?!” the pope asked, taking a step towards the prince. The book he held had long since dropped to the ground. “The wielder of the god-sword, the final Saint?!”
“Status unknown… Though the stone that tells us of the god-sword’s status has turned pitch-black.”
“Pitch-black…?!”
That was merely supposed to crack or break if Claiomh Solais was damaged. What had happened to the thing…?
“As for the Heroes themselves… The wielder of the god-sword, the Saint, that entire expedition, they are still considered “lost”. As no one has reported back to prove their deaths, we cannot officially declare them dead, but…”
“So they are as good as…”
“I am afraid so.”
Silence reigned, for a while…
“We cannot simply let them invade us,” declared the king, raising his face. “Nor can we just hand over our land. We must defend ourselves!”
“You mean—?!” asked the prince, disbelief in his eyes. Disbelief at his own father’s idiocy.
“Yes, I do!” the king responded, slamming his hands down onto his desk. “Summon the royal knight commander at once!”
“... Yes, Father.”
And thus, a defense plan was drafted up…
And, unknowingly, the top brass of the Holy Astal Kingdom doomed their Heroes, soldiers, adventurers and otherwise to be nothing but sacrifices to the Hexagram, and solidified the demon king’s plan to properly manifest in the world.