The duel between the Creator God, Shallow Vernal, and Kaito. Through Alice, the Phantasm King, this news had already reached everyone Kaito knew—along with a stern warning to keep him in the dark.
There were several reasons for this secrecy. If Kaito, facing the absolute pinnacle of the world, were to learn of the battle occurring off-board, he might worry about it so much that it could jeopardize his own confrontation.
Furthermore, Shallow Vernal might alter her own tactics if she sensed he knew too much. To eliminate such variables, the details of the impending clash were being withheld from him.
(The estimated enemy force is at least eight hundred Count-class demons, each possessing the military might of a nation. Two hundred Six King-class entities, each capable of ending the world single-handedly. And three existences that transcend even those... It’s an absurd joke. So, realistically, what are we looking at? Is there a path to victory?)
(We’ll manage, somehow. Even the Count-class and Six King-class titles are mostly just reflections of their magic power. They have weaknesses. Since the Gods live in the highly disciplined God Realm, their actual combat experience is fatally lacking.)
(I see. So it’s just like when I first borrowed your split body—they cannot fully master the power they have been granted. Still, it won’t be that simple. Knowing you, you’ve already read the script to the end. What are the odds?)
Aloft the roof of the Ducal House of Albert, Alice stood guard over Kaito’s room while conversing with Iris through their mental link. Naturally, they discussed the decisive battle that would soon be upon them.
(If it’s just about defeating the Gods, ninety percent. But that route would make the real goal—saving Kaito-san afterward—far more difficult. If we aim for the ideal victory... it’s about a forty percent gamble.)
(...Hmph. I wouldn't call it low, but those are poor odds when Miyama Kaito is the stake.)
(Yeah. Being forced to take the second move is what hurts most. Against Shallow Vernal-sama, Kaito-san will be taken to the Sanctuary the moment the first move is made. I could prevent it if I really pushed, but that might force her to change her approach entirely. That’s the worst-case scenario. It’s better to deal with a threat we can predict.)
Alice’s mind moved with preternatural speed. Having lived as a weakling before becoming one of the strong, her brain never rested. She had already anticipated every possible permutation of the coming events and was in the final stages of preparing for each one.
She knew reality was never kind. Merely planning for the worst was too optimistic. The worst, the best, and every outcome in between—she turned over every scenario until she had a response for them all.
(Even Shallow Vernal-sama isn’t without openings. Because it’s her, there are specific methods we can exploit.)
(...But she is a God. Reading our thoughts should be child’s play for her. Do you have a plan?)
(Of course. I’m already doing it. I’ve layered a membrane over my mind; my surface thoughts are occupied with something else entirely.)
(She won't see through it?)
(Even if she could, she won't bother. Shallow Vernal-sama won't waste that much effort on me. Frankly, she isn't interested enough in me to try. If she’s wary of anyone, it’s Kuro-san. She’ll skim my surface thoughts and move on... That indifference is one of her greatest openings.)
(I see. Then, let us hammer out the finer details.)
(Right. Though, I still feel like we need one more "trump card.")
(By the way, Alice. Your speech. You’ve reverted to your old style, haven’t you?)
(Ah, damn. Whenever I start plotting with you, Iris, I just naturally slip back into the old ways...)
(Don't call it plotting. Call it a strategy meeting...)
As Alice delved deeper into her contingency plans, she continued to search for a way to tip the scales further in their favor.
In an arena tucked away in a corner of the Demon Realm, two demons stood in silent opposition. On one side stood Ozma, one of the Five War Generals and the oldest subordinate to the War King—a Count-class high-ranking demon.
Opposite him stood Pandemonium, an executive among the Phantasm King’s subordinates, feared by the name "Doom-bringing Disease Demon."
They seemed to be gauging one another in the silence, but suddenly, they lunged forward in perfect unison. A high-speed exchange of blows erupted.
Ozma’s fists tore through the air, only for Pandemonium to parry and launch a counter. Ozma swept her strike aside in turn—a clash of true masters.
The two had been rivals in bare-handed combat for ages, occasionally training together to sharpen their skills.
However, the term "rivals" only applied to martial arts. In a full-powered battle involving magic, Ozma would undoubtedly emerge the victor.
Ozma possessed enough power to be called a King in his own right. He was a powerhouse far exceeding the classification of Count-class.
But no one knew his true strength except for Megiddo. Not even the Phantasm King, the supposed master of all information, had seen his full power.
Ozma had not fought seriously since his battle with Megiddo—a duel that took place before Alice had even arrived in this world.
Alice had inferred from his behavior and Megiddo’s stories that Ozma’s power rivaled that of the Six Kings, but she had never been given a chance to witness it.
The reason for his restraint was simple. Despite his usually easygoing demeanor, Ozma possessed a core of absolute loyalty.
He would only fight in earnest upon receiving a direct command from his King. But that King was currently sealed by his own hand.
And so, the loyal knight refused to draw his sword. He simply continued to wait for the moment his King’s command would finally descend.
Deep within the largest forest of the Demon Realm, a woman was offering a silent prayer. From her long, pale-golden hair, a large, soft-pink flower bloomed like a hair ornament, marking her as a Flower Spirit.
Amidst the stillness of nature, a youthful voice broke her concentration.
"Lilie-sama! Lilie-sama! Sorry to interrupt your prayer!"
"...No, it is no trouble at all."
"Actually, you see—"
"A summons from Lilliwood-sama. I see. Regarding the battle with the God Realm?"
"Ayaya? You’re as sharp as ever, Lilie-sama!"
"I merely read your surface thoughts, Tiltania."
The woman called Lilie rose from her prayer, her eyes still closed. She had been blind since birth; her eyes had never known light.
Yet she possessed a sensory capability that allowed her to read the minute traces of magic in the air and the very hearts of others. Her power was a higher-order version of Kaito’s Sympathy Magic. Guided by it, she began to walk through the forest without hesitation.
"Conflict is never something to be desired... but it is true that this path cannot be avoided. The world rarely moves as one wishes."
"As for Tilu, I’m all for it! It’s a chance to fight beside Raz-sama!"
"...She was the First Fairy King, if I recall?"
"Yes! Raz-sama is absolutely, incredibly amazing! Tilu wants to be a fairy just like her someday!"
Fluttering her small wings as she followed Lilie was Tiltania, the current Fairy King.
She respected her predecessor, Razulia, from the bottom of her heart. She went so far as to mimic Razulia’s speech and style. To her, the looming war was a joyous opportunity to stand on the battlefield with her idol.
"It is better than being afraid, but do not get ahead of yourself. Do not neglect your duties as Lilliwood-sama’s assistant."
"Of course!"
"...Then, shall we go? To the side of our King."
"Yes!!"
In the Demon Realm, these two were famous as beautiful, noble, and powerful entities. They were two of the "Seven Princesses," the executives who served the World King.
Lilie, the Demon Flower Princess and head of the executives, and Tiltania, the Fairy Princess. These "Seven Princesses" were also beginning to mobilize for the coming war.
High atop a peak in the rocky mountains of the Southern Demon Realm, a dragon stood alone. It was covered in scarred red scales that spoke of a thousand battles. It was small for its kind, standing only five meters tall, with arms integrated into its wings.
The dragon, classified as a Winged Dragon, stood upright on its hind legs atop the jagged peak, its arms crossed with dignity.
This was Needsveld, the Heavenly Dragon of Extinguishing Flames and a member of the "Four Great Magic Dragons" that served the Dragon King.
He was a Nidhogg, a species of red-scaled Wyvern that lacked the raw power of true dragons. Yet through countless conflicts, he had ascended to the rank of an Ultra-ancient True Dragon.
He was a self-made warrior who had risen from the bottom of the dragon species.
"So this is where you were, Needsveld."
(...Fafnir, is it?)
Needsveld could not speak. Born a Wyvern, his vocal cords were incapable of complex speech.
Instead, he communicated through telepathy. However, this method generally only worked with other monsters.
"It’s rare to see you without your training."
(I was... thinking.)
"...Thinking?"
(I do not know the battle from twenty thousand years ago. Therefore, my understanding of the Creator God’s power is based only on imagination. But she is undoubtedly stronger than Magnawell-sama, is she not?)
"...Yeah."
Needsveld turned his gaze toward Fafnir. He had lost one eye in a past battle, leaving him with only one sharp, focused orb.
(I have lived in the crucible of combat. I have challenged those stronger than myself, growing more powerful with every wound, devouring my betters to stand where I am today.)
"..."
(Challenging a superior foe is a terrifying thing. The body shakes, the heart tightens... It requires an immense amount of courage to overcome.)
"Hmph."
Fafnir nodded silently, allowing Needsveld to continue.
(What must a human feel, then, when he challenges the very pinnacle of existence? A wall that pierces the heavens, obscuring any sight of the end. And yet... that human will still challenge it, won't he?)
"...Yeah. Without a doubt."
(...It is a magnificent sight. A soul like a raging fire. All who challenge are great in their own right. I am an ally to those who dare. If that human intends to reach for the peak, I will gladly become the fangs that clear his path.)
"So, you’re in. You’ll participate in the battle against the God Realm."
(My participation was never in question. I follow Magnawell-sama’s will. But there is a difference between fighting because of an order and fighting because of a choice. The heat within the soul is not the same. I was merely confirming that heat.)
With that, Needsveld uncrossed his arms and spread his wings, taking to the sky.
(Miyama Kaito... Greatest Challenger. I shall make a vow here, presumptuous as it may be. I, too, shall fight in a way that brings no shame to that fierce soul...)
With a vow burning in his heart, the strongest Winged Dragon glared at the heavens, picturing the human who would dare to challenge them.
The war between the Divine Realm and the alliance of the Demon and Human Realms was fast approaching.
The Five War Generals, the Ten Demons, the Seven Princesses, and the Four Great Magic Dragons... the legendary Count-class warriors were all beginning to move. In silence, the world prepared for the end.