◆
"A god, huh?"
The Holy King muttered the words to himself as he walked beneath the moonlit night sky.
The deity he had believed to be the absolute, one-and-only existence had turned out to be far more fragile and weaker than he had ever imagined.
He had been deceived by a false god for years while the true one was rotting in a cage, and even the Demon King who had usurped that throne had been struck down by a mere human.
While Rigo had reclaimed the Throne of God for now, the fact remained that he had been supplanted once before. There was no telling when history might repeat itself.
He couldn't exactly bring himself to feel relieved, nor could he honestly say he looked forward to serving such a master with a carefree heart.
"All I ever wanted was to create a peaceful world..."
The village where the Holy King had been born was destitute. Every day had been a struggle for survival, with blood spilled over the meagerest scraps of food.
He had seen families murdered over irrigation rights for a single field. He had seen children lose their lives for a crust of bread. It hadn't even been rare for parents to kill their own offspring just to reduce the number of mouths to feed.
As someone born and raised as the child of a relatively prosperous Church, he had watched those horrors unfold his entire life. His only wish was for a world at peace.
He understood that the path to such a world was anything but smooth.
Resources were finite. When people lost their sense of security, their hearts rotted to the core. Preaching love to the desperate was a futile gesture. In the end, the only solution was for a strong individual to enforce order through compulsory adjustments.
Goods had to be circulated from the haves to the have-nots, with resources offered in exchange. Those who dared to oppose this order had to be suppressed by force.
It was only after he became the Holy King and began to exert such power that the conflicts in his village finally subsided, allowing peace to take root.
At the time, he had been certain: as long as he followed God, the absolute strongest power in existence, he could not go wrong.
"I thought that as long as I followed God's word without question, everyone could live in peace... or so I believed."
But a god was, in the end, just another form of life.
They could make mistakes. They could be defeated by those stronger than them. The Holy King finally realized that even a god was not an absolute.
Everything he had pinned his faith on had crumbled, leaving him adrift without a moral compass.
What should he believe in now? How should he live? For what purpose should he wield his power...?
"I might as well become God myself... No, no, who would ever acknowledge such a thing?"
It was a ridiculous thought. For a human to aspire to godhood was the height of delusion.
The people of the world wouldn't accept it, and neither would the Angels. He didn't even believe he was capable of it. It was arrogance beyond measure.
As his thoughts continued to circle the drain, a dark shadow manifested before him.
"...Oh, Gizagiza. I was wondering where you’d disappeared to. What have you been up to?"
"I went to retrieve this."
Guisarm held a black orb in his hand. Shining characters were etched deep into the stone.
"A stone... Is that a spell formula engraved inside?"
"Yeah. It’s a Magic Stone. It contains the Fusion Spell Formula."
Spell formulas used by Demons—especially secret arts like Fusion—were "black boxes" that even the casters themselves couldn't fully comprehend.
There was only one way to transmit them: by sealing a portion of the caster's Magic Body into a Magic Stone and bestowing it upon another.
This stone had been passed down from the Progenitor Demon King, allowing Glatony to master Fusion. Fearing its power, Glatony had hidden the stone away in God's Treasury.
"Heh, you certainly knew where to look. How did you know such a thing existed?"
"...To be honest, I’m not entirely sure myself. I simply felt that this was necessary if I were to become the Demon King."
The current Guisarm was a phantom summoned by the Holy King’s Magical Song. It was highly likely he wasn't just his original self, but a composite containing fragments of those who shared a destiny with Lloyd.
Perhaps the memories of the defeated Glatony had bled into him... the Holy King mused, before the weight of the words finally hit him.
"...Wait, hold on! Did you just say you’re going to become the Demon King?"
"Hm? Yeah. The reason I left the Demon World in the first place was to claim the title of Demon King."
Guisarm spoke with absolute confidence to the bewildered Holy King.
The reports said that Guisarm had crossed over from the Demon World to this continent and seized a castle, only to be defeated by Lloyd when the prince happened to visit.
The Holy King had wondered why someone would travel all the way from the distant Demon World just for that, but he had never imagined such a grand ambition was behind it.
"The current Demon King is weak. ...Well, his raw combat power might be sufficient, but he’s spiritually soft. A man like that has no business ruling the Demon World. That’s why I intend to take the throne for myself."
"...But tell me, is 'Demon King' really a title you can just take because you want it?"
A king wasn't something one could simply decide to be.
To be recognized as a king, one needed a "story"—a bloodline, a sign of divine favor, or a legendary feat like slaying a Great Beast. One needed a narrative to justify their rule.
Even the Holy King had only been chosen after receiving an Oracle and surviving grueling trials.
"To become the Demon King, don't you need a story of your own? You’d need to be an elite among Demons, or have the royal bloodline, or perhaps receive a revelation from the heavens. Do you actually possess the qualifications to be the Demon King?"
If even a human king required such things, then the King of Demons—the absolute peak of that hierarchy—would never be accepted by his peers without an even more magnificent story.
Guisarm didn't so much as blink. He simply tilted his head and smirked.
"No. Not particularly."
"What...?"
"I am who I am. Bloodlines and qualifications are the most trivial things imaginable. As for a 'story,' the weaklings can spin whatever tales they like in the wake of my footsteps. I will do as I please, and as a result, the throne will be mine."
The Holy King was momentarily speechless. But in that silence, he found his answer.
...I see. If I can't find a god to believe in, I'll just become God myself.
It didn't matter if I was qualified. I just had to decide to do it and take action. It was that simple. If I do that, I can build the peaceful world I've always dreamed of.
Regardless of how it looks to the rest of the world, I can at least create a world that satisfies me.
He couldn't believe he hadn't realized something so obvious. A smile tugged at his lips despite himself.
"...Hm? That unsightly face of yours finally looks like it’s got some spirit in it."
"Heh, does it? I suppose I have you to thank for that. ...Really, I'm glad I summoned you."
As he spoke, the Holy King’s mind was already racing.
(Guisarm intends to become the Demon King. If I play my cards right and use him, it might actually be possible for me to reach the Throne of God...!)
For instance, he could let a powered-up Guisarm run amok in the Celestial Realm and then "subdue" him to prove his worth to the world. Or he could slay him after he took the throne. Perhaps he could even use Fusion just as Lloyd had done to obtain absolute power. There were countless ways to handle this.
While he stood there smiling, Guisarm was watching him with a matching, twisted grin.
(The Holy King, huh? If I absorb him through Fusion, I can gain resistance to the Holy Attribute. Holy Magic is the one and only weakness of us Demons. Besides, that Magical Song of his is quite a find. It should prove invaluable in claiming the throne... and in slaughtering that brat...! Heh, it seems my luck is finally turning...!)
Seeing Guisarm struggle to stifle a laugh, the Holy King let out a quiet sigh.
...Well, I'm sure he's thinking something along those same lines.
"Lend me your strength, Holy King. I have need of your power."
"Very well. Let’s consider this a matter of mutual cooperation."
Of course, they were both fully aware of the situation. This was a battle of wits—a contest to see whose ambition would be realized first.
Guisarm slapped the hand the Holy King held out.
The sharp sound of the high-five echoed through the night.
And so, the two of them began their journey together, each perfectly aware of the other’s dark ulterior motives.
◆
Thus, the Celestial Realm Incident came to an end.
With God returned to his rightful place, the Holy King also returned to his post and resumed his duties at the Holy King Court.
As for Beal, since he was judged to be under my complete control, he managed to avoid being sealed away.
"Come to think of it, I wonder what happened to that Guisarm fellow the Holy King had with him."
"I imagine he sent him back where he came from. Surely he isn't foolish enough to keep such a dangerous individual around."
Grimo and Jiriel were busy whispering to each other, but I had more pressing matters to attend to—namely, the situation unfolding right in front of me.
"Master Lloyd, you’ve fallen quite behind on your swordsmanship drills."
"Now wait just a minute, isn't it my turn first? Monopolizing him is poor form."
"I’m first in line. Right, Little Roddy?"
"I as well."
"Me too."
"And me!"
A formidable line had formed: Sylpha, Albert, Dian, Zerof, Birgitte, and Alieze... Why on earth were they all here at once?
I shot a pleading glance toward Ren and Connie, who were lurking in the shadows. They both bowed their heads in an "I'm so sorry" gesture.
"While you were away in the Celestial Realm, the personality you left in charge got a little too... enthusiastic."
"It kept saying yes to everyone’s requests. Before we knew it, you were booked under a murderous schedule."
Right... I had forgotten that I’d installed an Automatic Control Personality in my body using Control Magic.
It had been strangely cheerful for some reason, but I’d figured things would be fine if I left Ren and Connie to keep an eye on it. Apparently, it had been so motivated that it just kept accepting every single invitation.
Damn it all. I’d worked so hard to maintain my reputation as the lazy Seventh Prince, and it went and ruined everything.
If I suddenly reverted to my usual self now, it would look suspicious. I’d have to phase it out gradually. ...Ugh, how depressing.
"...Heehee. It looks like you’re going to need a few more bodies, Lloyd."
Saria giggled.
I offered a strained smile in response to her knowing gaze while secretly, and very seriously, beginning to calculate the spell formulas required to split myself into multiple bodies without getting caught.