POV: (CHAT).
This chapter was supposed to be out yesterday, but I had to go pick up my certificate at college. I was fine with just the online version; I don’t care about the physical one at all, but my mom wanted the 'original' to hang on the wall and all that, so I went to get it.
Well, as always, if you want to read 3/7 chapters ahead, that’s possible on my (P)(A)(T). If not, I still appreciate you reading! Thank you so much!
That said, have a good night and happy reading!
[...]---[...]
POV: Rin Tohsaka
I had seen great battles before: glimpses during the Fourth Holy Grail War. I was young, but the little I saw said a lot — even on streams. The fight against the Deerclops was almost a harbinger of what was to come, that the battles would grow fiercer, that he would grow stronger.
“But I’m not sure I can call this a fight…” I murmured, looking at my phone on the table. It was Wednesday; I should have been at school — I skipped a day. My perfect record would suffer, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Devas was going to fight Salem, a millennia-old witch with dozens of spells in her repertoire. I could watch the stream later; it would be recorded like all the others. But I didn’t want to — and, even less, could I — miss the chance to see this live… But it wasn’t a fight.
Salem was monstrously skilled; controlling gravity was rare, dangerous, and difficult for any magus, but she seemed to do it effortlessly. Her magic flowed naturally; dozens, hundreds of spells were cast in a second, with no visible effort. The storm itself over the entire kingdom was her doing — an incredible feat…
… None of that mattered.
Devas didn’t give the witch a chance to fight back. The instant the battle began, Salem was torn apart, gutted like a fish on a cutting board. In less than a second, I hadn’t even blinked, and she was already in pieces — pieces upon pieces. Her regeneration was absurdly incredible, something that would make many Dead Apostles envious, but it wasn’t enough… for many reasons…
“Echo Humanitatis… How does this even exist in a living being?…” The crystallization of a racial trait, an entire history, in two eyes, a color: orange. His eyes conveyed no pity, no emotion; they were just two spheres of orange, almost inhuman, despite being all too human.
“The Anathema of the Divine and, at the same time, the Predator of Humanity…” I felt a chill run down my spine and looked away for a moment before forcing myself to look back when I heard Devas murmur four words:
“Das Klagen der Königin.”
It was German. I was fluent in the language; it meant "The Queen's Lament." It was ironic how appropriate that name was for the situation. Everything froze, including Salem; her body shattered again, this time like glass, like ice breaking apart.
As the fight — massacre — continued, Salem managed to fight back. I admired that woman’s mental fortitude. Ignoring everything I knew about her, the mere fact that she could fight back, even while being torn to pieces, was a feat. What she did next was even more impressive: she devastated half the abandoned city they fought in, in an instant.
Devas got distracted by a Grimm, something resembling a wyvern that I had seen and read about in fantasy history books and my family’s records left in the library. That distraction was enough for Salem to condense gravity — I don’t know by how much — in the surroundings. Any human would have died… but not him.
The sound of his bones breaking was grotesque, as was the sound of flesh and muscle being torn apart, even with his Aura protecting him, along with the armor and the magic that I was sure reinforced his body. Devas spat blood, and for a moment I thought he had died, lying motionless. Then the Relic of Destruction glowed purple in his left hand.
It took me a while to understand what he had destroyed: Salem's mana. The spell was broken, gravity returned to normal, and he stood up… completely healed. He was still covered in blood, both his red and Salem’s black, but he didn’t look hurt at all.
It was ridiculous: those potions he’d thrown directly into his stomach, that ring that converted mana into vitality, and himself. This combination was absurd. From nearly dead to unscathed in a second.
Still, it showed just how dangerous Salem was. She hadn’t been able to react until then, and a single attack — something that seemed casual to the witch — had nearly killed Devas. He made it look easy, a massacre, but if she had even a moment to breathe, Devas would lose this fight… She was in the air, mounted on the Wyvern Grimm; Devas was on the ground.
He could fly; I knew that, but the few seconds he’d need would give Salem the opportunity she required — an opportunity she’d already seized. The sky glowed yellow, covered with lightning bolts descending fiercely toward Devas… or would have, if not for the obelisks that appeared around him, forming a circle.
The bolts were drawn to them, and none hit the man in the center. The Runes and Mystic Symbols on the obelisks, in a dirty silver color, glowed with each bolt, pulsing with electricity and power, yet none of them exploded or melted…
I hope I wasn’t the only one staring in shock when he opened his right hand, which I hadn’t noticed was clenched, and revealed he held a golden orb made of light — divinity — something whispered to me, between his fingers. I wasn’t surprised when he brought the orb to his mouth and bit into it.
“It was only half… damn wyvern… I got scared for nothing, thinking this giant lizard was a dragon…” I would have laughed at the absurdity of his words if not for the scene before me. He was eating the Light God’s divinity like it was candy. Bite by bite. “But that’s fine… Tearing out the rest will be easier… What a horrible taste…”
His mouth was entirely covered by Shadowflame — his whole jaw and even part of his neck.
“He must be using the flame to contain the divinity,” I murmured. My thoughts were occupied, and the words left my mouth without finding space in my mind. “Is that why he hadn’t used it until now?… He was planning on doing this from the start, wasn’t he?…”
His main plan to stop Salem wasn’t to seal her, throw her into space, or sink her to the ocean’s depths, but to consume what made her immortal… To eat a part of a god who, for all intents and purposes, was the supreme god of Remnant’s pantheon.
“… Devas Asura.” The name suited him… “Just how insane are you?…” In my empty room, no one answered…
His teeth cracked, like when he had eaten the angel feathers, but this time it was different. Devas's teeth didn’t break completely; they cracked like a distorted mirror, and blood began to seep from the cracks… golden blood… Then he swallowed the rest of the divinity, which glowed as it descended his throat, before disappearing…
I swallowed too, dryly, at the sight. Salem looked as shocked as I did. “What… what are you?” the witch murmured. I wouldn’t have heard it, no one would have, she was too far… if not for the stream…
… She looked afraid. Smart… — But it was too late — a voice whispered to me from somewhere, very much like Devas’s voice, but less… sane.
Salem’s body flickered on the stream, revealing chains binding her soul: thin and brittle, still glowing with the same sacred appearance, but now more faded — fragile — and stained with something dark. There was a missing piece in the center of her soul… The fingerprint marks on the wound told me everything that needed to be said…
Devas looked in Salem’s direction, almost mechanically, his head tilting, along with his jaw, slightly ajar and still dripping gold. He opened his mouth… The answer he gave the witch made every hair on my body stand up; whether from fear, excitement, or anxiety, I couldn’t tell…
“▂▂▄▄▅▅▃▃▄▄▅▅▂▂▃▄▃▄▄▅▅”
For a moment, before the stream camera adjusted to the environment — consumed by snow, ice, and insanity, engulfed by the Hallucination Storm — only one thing could be seen on the screen.
Two eyes. A color…
… Orange.
[…]
POV: Kazuma Sato
“No way that’s human!” the damned goddess screamed, across the room behind our mansion’s table. Darkness and Megumin were seated on the couch next to me; I was in the armchair.
She pointed at me, averting her eyes — completely anxious and, I’d say, terrified — from the hologram above the coffee table and pointed her finger. “You! You can’t put yourself in danger! An emergency mission appeared when Ruby almost died; it brought Devas to Remnant. You’re forbidden from almost dying! I don’t want him here!”
“I don’t plan on almost dying, like, ever!” I yelled back at Aqua. “And you’re exaggerating. Devas is a good guy. Don’t be so melodramatic.”
Was he dangerous? To his enemies, yes. Very strong? Absolutely. Maybe a bit insane? Completely. But he was nice. It was better to be friends with the crazy, very dangerous and strong guy than to be a stranger, or worse, an enemy.
Hell, it’s like Aqua said: Devas had traveled from one universe to another just to save Ruby. I’d love to have that backup if I could. A trap card, a demon king general, or even the demon king himself appears, then I pull my alien buddy out of my pocket and flip them all off while watching him destroy everything.
… I saw no downside
“You’re ignoring his racial trait description, which says he could simply kill every human in Axel and half the continent just by EXISTING?!” Megumin squeaked, pointing a finger at me as well. “I agree with Aqua.”
“That’s right, Megumin!”
“He’d probably learn how to use your explosion magic better than you and could even teach you how to create an even bigger explosion after that,” I pointed out.
“I disagree with Aqua.” Her opinion shifted instantly. “I see no downsides to Devas coming to our world.”
“Traitor!”
Heh, too easy.
“Those eyes… He could kill me with a single look of disgust when he finds out what I’m like…” Darkness started panting in her chair, drooling, hugging herself and writhing. “Those creatures… such grotesque, evil monsters… so many of them…”
Nobody paid any attention to her; in fact, we all ignored her with surprising efficiency. Megumin didn’t even realize she’d instinctively slid to the other side of the couch out of self-preservation.
Both Devas and I were isekai’d, right?… So, why was our situation so different?… Why were my companions so—
The memory of Deerclops, along with every time Devas complained about Terraria with a worried look, flashed in my mind like a guiding light, illuminating a billboard that read: “We’re doing way better, stop whining.”
I tossed some popcorn into my mouth and went back to watching the stream. I was fine; I had no reason to complain…
[…]
POV: Albus “Many Names” Percival “Many Jobs” Wulfric “Very Old” Brian “I’ll Always Make This Joke” Dumbledore.
“I imagine this is what most people picture when they think of a fight between Salazar and Gryffindor,” I hummed to myself, though I was certain the other three in the room could hear me.
“I don’t think Salazar could come back after being sliced to pieces, frozen, and killed by that scream,” Severus pointed out.
“Nor do I think he had breasts,” Harry replied, only to get a slap on the back of the head from Severus. Harry rubbed his neck. “Was I lying?”
“No, but have some manners. It’s rude to say such things, especially in front of a lady.” The Head of Slytherin smiled—a small, almost imperceptible lip twitch.
The two had had a… worse-than-bad start, I won’t lie, but after everything, after the letter Devas sent to Severus, the latter began to act a little less… himself. Harry was suspicious at first but gave him a chance, and nowadays, they were like a sort of dysfunctional uncle and nephew.
I won’t lie, it was kind of amusing watching them interact.
“Thank you, Severus.” Minerva smiled slightly before adding, “But physical punishment isn’t something teachers should resort to with students. We’re not in the last century.”
Severus didn’t respond; he merely grumbled and went back to watching the stream. With that, we all turned our attention back to the large screen on the wall, projected by the four phones. Normally, it would be a hologram, but I didn’t think that was appropriate, given the situation Devas was in. The censorship was doing its job, but it was still better to make everything look like a movie rather than something more real.
Not only for Harry but also for Minerva, Severus, and even myself. I’d seen and done many things, but I had always hated brutality. I understood Devas, why he fought like that. Salem couldn’t fight back if she was in pieces and overwhelmed with pain, but it still wasn’t something I looked upon kindly.
Not that I’d judge him—it wasn’t my place. I could give him advice, more as a man with more life experience than as a warrior. In that regard, Devas had long since surpassed me. Trying to guide him was something I could do, just as I did with my students, but it wasn’t my place to judge him for what he did, especially in a life-or-death situation.
“Eating that thing wasn’t without consequences,” Severus remarked. It sounded more like he was talking to himself than to the rest of us. “Devas hasn’t moved since… Salem will notice soon enough.”
And she did. The moment it happened, the witch attacked him—not only that, but Salem seemed deranged. The rage on her face was something ugly, especially since she seemed to be returning to her normal appearance, losing the ‘Grimm’ parts she’d had.
Salem’s skin was returning to a healthy color, her hair was blonde rather than the dead white from before. The biggest change was her eyes, no longer with black sclerae and red irises; her sclerae were white, and her irises were a lemony green. Devas was doing something as he attacked her, probably absorbing or destroying the Grimm miasma inside her.
Whether it was something from the Bone Helm or from Devas himself, his nightmare energy, I couldn’t say, but it didn’t seem to change the fact that Salem wanted him dead at this moment. With a flick of her wrist—I would have loved to see her mana flowing, but the stream wasn’t showing that—a massive ice spear formed in the air, created by the ice storm.
The spear had to be the height of a small building, fifteen, maybe twenty meters, or more, and it began spinning before being launched toward Devas, who still remained with his eyes closed and his head tilted to the side, golden blood dripping from his mouth. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t react, then he opened his eyes.
The Relic of Destruction glowed purple, destroying something, probably Salem’s mana, something I’d theorized before. The spear stopped mid-air, not even close to Devas, held by a giant black hand that crushed it, shattering the ice into fragments that seemed to return to the storm.
“Rude of you to pull me out of my head like that.” Devas said, his voice slurred, his jaw hanging slack as if he were numb from painkillers. Golden blood dripped from the cracks in his jaw.
The Relic of Destruction glowed purple again, this time clearly destroying something as Salem’s eyes collapsed, swollen and red, with blood seeping from every opening on her face. I’d seen it before, unfortunately…
…The sword couldn’t destroy the witch’s body or soul, much less the chains that bound her… but it could destroy the air around her.
[...]
POV: Stream.
[Target invitation detected.]
[Target compatibility: 93.4%.]
[Error! Target body is sealed.]
[Error! Target soul is sealed.]
[Error! External interference detected.]
[Error! Attempt to interfere with the external interference detected.]
[Containment system activated.]
[Destroying external interference. Lethal mode activated.]
[Initiating destruction of “The Greater Will.”]
[Recalculating.]
[Possible Rainbow mission identified. Possible Rainbow world identified.]
[Recalculating.]
[Recalculating. Lethal mode deactivated. Repulsion mode activated.]
[External interference repelled.]
[Recalculating.]
[Invitation temporarily revoked. Enhancing reward.]
[Calculating.]
[10,000 viewers reward enhanced.]
[…]
POV: Anthony Edward Stark.
“Damn it, DS, don’t go and kill yourself…” I muttered. Pepper was watching the stream beside me, but she didn’t respond, too focused on the scene in front of us. Jarvis, undoubtedly also watching, chimed in:
“Are you referring to Mr. Devas’s prolonged use of the Relic of Destruction, sir?”
“Yes, I don’t know what that thing costs, but…” My words died in my throat. I licked my lips before continuing. “For DS, of all people, to have gray hair… I don’t know how much life he’s already used up, but it wasn’t a small amount.”
I could tell he was using the sword’s ability only when necessary. He destroyed the witch’s mana when she cast that gravity spell — something Jarvis theorized after seeing Devas stand up after nearly being crushed to death — and now the air around Salem, creating this artificial vacuum.
A creative use of the relic, given the limitations it had, especially in this fight. DS couldn’t destroy the witch’s body outright to oblivion, nor her soul, so he had to improvise. It was almost morbidly comical how his improvisation consisted of hacking Salem to pieces over and over until she died, no matter how many times she came back, and making her body collapse in an artificial vacuum.
Also, apparently, by eating part of her soul, along with the divinity of that world’s creator god. Jarvis calculated the speed of Salem’s spells and the method of their creation after DS ripped that ball of light out of Salem’s chest — nothing small, I could tell, even with the stream’s censorship. Her behavior was different, slower; her face twisted in pain every time she used magic.
I wasn’t the one who noticed these things, but Jarvis, just like he was the one who theorized that DS had done something to the witch’s soul, cross-referencing some — scarcer than I’d like — confirmed data we had about magic. Magic came from the soul, or at least some types of magic, which was the basis for the theory.
This was confirmed when Jarvis replayed the moment the stream revealed the witch’s soul. The missing piece in the middle, torn out by DS’s hand, and the rips and cuts made by his swords composed quite the scene…
“I will need more data to calculate the exact cost of the Relic of Destruction, Mr. Stark,” Jarvis replied helpfully. “But, based on data Mr. Devas mentioned on the stream, I would estimate that Mr. Devas has used approximately two to three hundred years of life span.”
“… What the hell?!”
That wasn’t me who said it — it was Pepper. But I would’ve said the same. I didn’t know what was more impressive: DS having that much life span to burn — he’d mentioned having some kind of biological immortality before, but hearing it and seeing it were two very different things — or the fact that even after spending so many years of his life, he’d barely changed, aside from his hair turning gray.
“I’m going to need to speed up my projects…” I murmured. DS was strong, incredibly strong, by any standards I knew, but even being that strong, he still moved with a sense of desperation, as if he were racing against time…
… Even being that strong, he still acted as if he were weak.
If the man who looked like a demon, fought like one, and could wipe out the lives of all humans across an area slightly more than half the size of the African continent, considered himself weak, who was I to consider myself strong…
“I need a better suit.” And yesterday wouldn’t be soon enough.
[…]
POV: Saya Takagi
"You're going to run out of nails at this rate, Saya-san," Saeko remarked helpfully. She was still using the "-san," even after I'd told her to drop it. I ignored her and kept biting my thumb nail.
It was just her and me in my room; everyone else was watching the stream somewhere else. Actually, the entire island was watching. The Pylon in the center of the island always broadcast Devas's stream to everyone. Normally, this would have kept people up at night with that massive light source, since Devas often streamed until dawn or all day long, but it didn’t.
The stream had some mechanism that allowed anyone who didn’t want to watch to avoid seeing the light or hearing the sound from the Pylon. I wouldn’t even know where to start in trying to understand how it worked. I was good at magic, like with almost everything I did—I was a genius, after all—but I wasn’t arrogant enough to try to understand something like the stream.
Viewers far more skilled in magic than I was couldn’t understand it, and they were the ones teaching me magic. If they hadn’t cracked it, I wouldn’t… for now.
“You’re fighting alone… again…” I murmured, my voice muffled, slipping out between my teeth. “Why do you always have to fight alone?...”
I couldn’t even blame him, even if I wanted to take out my frustration on someone. No one around here was strong enough to even consider helping him; Devas was the only one who could face Salem…
Ozma, as Devas called him after their talk, could help—he was the only one who could help—but apparently, they talked off-stream and decided it was best to kill themselves in different ways!
Saeko turned to me when I growled, but I ignored her look. I didn’t know how she could stay so calm.
Salem was a monster in almost every sense of the word, except physically. As beautiful as she was, she was just as dangerous, especially with her magic. The Grimm were useless against Devas. Could they wipe out our island and the entire population, including our group? Yes, but to him, Grimm and zombies were at the same level: irrelevant.
But Salem was a completely different story. I was the most skilled and experienced magic user on the island. Saying I was leagues ahead of everyone else, in both power and talent, would still be an understatement… But even my best attack barely compared to anything the witch did.
Salem would casually flick her wrist, and hundreds of attacks of every kind were created, even after being wounded by Devas. I had no doubt that having something ripped out of her soul like that had taken a toll on her. If I needed to concentrate to create a light breeze, she could casually summon a hurricane; there wasn’t even a starting point for comparison.
“And he’s countering all of it so effortlessly…” I said aloud. A faint smile appeared on my face.
It probably wasn’t as easy as it seemed; I knew that. Devas must have been in pain; he hadn’t moved since he’d swallowed that god’s light, but he made it look easy. A simple hand gesture—just enough—and practically all of Salem’s attacks were neutralized.
He grabbed the air as if he were holding the storm itself, then made a gesture to the side. The storm followed his movement as if he were trailing his finger through a puddle, leaving a ripple, and all the witch’s attacks were destroyed. Her earth attack was countered with the same ease; a slight movement of his foot created a wave that met Salem’s wave, and the two earth waves canceled each other out.
“I can’t even describe how incredible his growth rate is.” Saeko crossed her legs as she spoke, sitting beside me. “You were right, Saya-san.”
“Of course I was. The number of times I’ve been wrong is pretty low.” I scoffed, lifting my chin. I placed a hand over my chest as it heaved. They were growing, something that, if not for the mana reinforcing my body, would have started to strain my spine.
Mom said I might be pregnant. I wasn’t—I’d taken several tests. My body, and everyone else’s on the island, was just reaching its peak thanks to the mana. Saeko and Rei were going through similar changes, while Komuro-kun and Kohta-kun were getting more muscular. Even those who didn’t work out much were getting stronger, though to a much lesser degree.
My gaze fell back on the stream. Devas was bombarding the witch’s cocoon with ice bolts from the Ice Blade. I repeated the line Saeko had mentioned:
“The Devas of yesterday can, and would, be destroyed by the Devas of today in battle, just as the Devas of tomorrow can, and would, destroy the Devas of today with the same ease.”
It was no wonder so many were starting to see him as a sort of… not a god, but something beyond humanity. The “Cult of the Stream” had been contained, or rather, it had dissipated on its own, as if the stream itself didn’t want something like that to happen. But the comments about Devas only seemed to grow by the day, and I was sure they would increase even more after this latest “great revelation.”
Echo Humanitatis—the name was written in both Greek and Latin, meaning, in a literal and free translation, “Echo of Humanity.” A remnant of something, a history, a race… Human—all in one person: Devas.
My chest tightened when I saw the crazed look in his eyes, that orange hue I’d come to both hate and love for what it represented: a burden that Devas would carry alone… And the strength he bore.
I understood why people on the island had begun to see him differently—I really did… But I didn’t care in the slightest…
… I just wanted him to be here again, so I could hug him and tell him he could rest.
[…]
POV: Perseus "Percy" Jackson
“How long are you going to keep staring at that piece of metal?” Grover asked, concerned. “Dude, seriously, I’m starting to worry. Did you hit your head or something?”
“It’s something a friend gave me; I’m just looking at it to pass the time,” I replied reflexively. I’d thought up a few possible answers to this question a while ago. “I don’t like reading and don’t feel like moving right now, so I’m just shutting my brain off.”
I’m pretty sure that if Nancy were here, she would’ve made some dumb comment like, “You don’t have a brain to begin with” or “Look at the weirdo doing weirdo things,” but she wasn’t. Grover and I were in our dorm room; it was Saturday. I had a make-up class in a few hours, but for now, I could just watch the stream in peace.
“… I wonder what’s in my world,” I muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing, just thinking out loud. You turned my brain back on, so I’m trying to shut it off again.”
“Ah, right…”
Grover didn’t seem too convinced by my answer but didn’t push further and went back to reading his herbology book. The guy was obsessed with plants, for some reason.
I turned back to watching Devas fight the witch, while my thoughts wandered. I was pretty sure that “my world” wasn’t “normal”; after watching the stream for a while, it was easy to pick up on a few things. Not only did Devas avoid certain topics when I asked about “my world,” but Mom also kept insisting I should just let it go and enjoy being a kid.
It was more than suspicious, but if there’s one thing I’d learned from Devas, it was that if you go looking, you’ll find something. I wasn’t sure if my world had magic, aliens, or something like that, maybe even gods, but until anything happened, I’d just prepare and wait.
I’d started training; Mom had paid for a few fighting lessons for me, but I was kicked out a week later for accidentally breaking another student’s arm. Since then, I’d been training on my own… Well, with help from the stream. Devas gave me all kinds of tips, and the (CHAT) did too, but I didn’t have a training partner.
“Hey, have you been talking to your mom lately?”
“What kind of question is that?” I turned to Grover. “Did you eat something bad?”
“What? No!” He waved his hand. “I was just curious, you know. I never see you calling her or, like, sending a letter. Some people are into old-school stuff.”
That last line was suspicious; a lot of what Grover said was suspicious…
“I talk to her every week.” Actually, every day, through the stream, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Don’t remember seeing you talking to her.” He pointed out.
“Good thing, we weren’t born attached at the hip.” I snorted, amused. Grover scrunched his face for a moment before nodding. “Don’t worry, man, it’s all good. You’ve been a bit stressed out lately—try to relax.”
“I… guess you’re right.” He sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind, you know?”
“Actually, no.”
He laughed at my comment, and I joined him a second later. After a few more words, I went back to watching the stream in silence. Grover seemed content with the interaction and didn’t say anything else, but he turned to me when I suddenly exclaimed, “Holy crap!”
“What?! Did you see something, someone?”
“What? No…” Another suspicious line… I barely looked away from the Wyvern Grimm—or ex-Grimm?—that Devas had launched at Salem. I came up with a quick excuse: “I just remembered something—summer break’s in two months, isn’t it?”
“It is… why?”
“I’m pretty sure I’ll end up staying at school, but I’ll ask my mom if we can travel somewhere.” I explained. I was getting good at improvising. “I had an idea of a place, so I kinda shouted.”
“… Seriously, dude, you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”
“My bad, my bad.” I waved apologetically. Grover sighed, and I went back to watching the stream.
[...]
POV: Serafall Leviathan
Salem was split in half — something that, by this point, wasn’t really remarkable. Devas had already cut the witch into so many pieces and so many times that being sliced in half just seemed… like more of the same. It was kind of strange to think about. What was impressive this time was what caused the injury: A Wyvern Nightmare.
“He doesn’t just have an army, he can enhance it,” Red commented, impressed. “There must be a limit… maybe, but it’s still impressive. If Devas can create a Wyvern, he must be able to create something even stronger in no time.”
“It’ll depend if he needs to see or kill a ‘model’ first,” Greenie observed, her voice calm. Sona-tan wasn’t here, but I was sure she was also watching the stream. “Most Nightmares, like Jinn said they were called in the (CHAT), were similar to Grimm, almost copies. Maybe he can only recreate, not create from scratch.”
“Some also looked like Deerclops’ hallucinations,” I pointed out. “But that’s a point to think about—” My voice died off, just like Salem should’ve died, if she hadn’t done the best angel cosplay I’d seen in a while.
The witch — I don’t even know if that term still applies to her now — exploded into light, just before being impaled by Devas. He moved in a fraction of a second, retreating from the explosion of light, but in that tiny window of time, Salem had transformed. She had been transforming for a while; the light seemed to have just sped up the process.
Before, her hair was white, but it had already been turning blonde, and now it had taken on a near-golden hue. Her deathly pale skin gained a healthy glow; I couldn’t see any scars or imperfections anywhere. Even with the stream’s censorship, it was obvious how full and beautiful her body had become.
To be honest, she looked like a ‘human’ version of Gabriel. Salem might’ve looked like an angel, but I’d seen and killed enough angels to know what they were really like. And if Gabriel exuded innocence — “That bitch,” I said aloud; my thoughts slipped for a moment — Salem had a more mature aura... total milf, 100% my type.
“What a surprise… Did I scare you that much?”
... But that didn’t stop Devas from ripping her heart out.
If a fraction of a second was enough for Devas to retreat over a hundred meters, the time it took him to return to the previous spot was probably even less. The two of them, face to face, were completely different: Salem looked like a desperate angelic being, while Devas looked more like a devil than almost any devil I’d ever seen in my life.
His arm moved smoothly, toward the center of Salem’s chest. The Aura, recently awakened, should’ve protected her, even if just momentarily, but that didn’t happen. It wasn’t hard to notice the purple aura covering Devas’ hand, or the eye that appeared on the back of his hand, with a pupil the same color as the aura, probably responsible for what just happened…
“You shouldn’t have sent him after her…” Devas whispered in Salem’s ear, his voice so deliciously demonic and delirious that my heart skipped a beat, with pure ecstasy rushing through my body.
Salem’s skin, muscles, and bones didn’t even resist the blow. One movement, one strike, was all it took. Salem was thrown away, crashing into part of the mountain, her heart still in the hand of the human — who didn’t look human — pulsing almost desperately, as if something — the divinity inside him — was trying to escape at all costs.
“You turned her completely human again…” I felt my pupils narrow, the sadistic mockery in his voice. The demonic power of Red covered me, probably stopping mine from freezing the whole room. “Not only that… But you covered her with divinity… You covered the Evil Queen, human, with divinity…”
I wanted to be as wrong as Red and Greenie in this moment, to see the world the way they did — having been born as mutant devils — because Devas was really messing with parts of me I didn’t want exposed to the world…
For a moment, I thought he would eat Salem’s heart, the way he brought the organ close to his face made it seem like he wanted to. But no, he crushed the heart with a single squeeze, the divinity glowing between his fingers, desperately and weakly trying to break free — pathetic — before succumbing and being devoured.
His fingers, like his forearm, cracked soon after, just like his teeth and jaw did, and from the cracks, the same golden blood began to leak, slowly dripping to the ground before being incinerated by the Shadowflame…
“He was born into the wrong species!” I shouted aloud. “He shouldn’t have been born human!”
There was no way, I didn’t understand how, it didn’t make sense how — Devas had been born human. [Divine Anathema] wasn’t a racial trait a human should have. They didn’t kill gods on their own, whether they were existent or not. I’d seen enough humans to know how they acted when they encountered something divine or a god.
Although I wasn’t the oldest or most experienced devil, even with my work, I was still certain that a human’s first instinct upon encountering something divine would be reverence, awe, or fear—not hunger. Humans didn’t devour the divine. Not in this world, and I refused to believe it was normal in his world or any other world.
I didn’t even know if [Echo Humanitatis] was better or worse. Devas could kill half the human life on a continent just by existing. That wasn’t something human. I was sure that if I described these characteristics to any random person on the street — the appearance Devas had now, the orange eyes, the blood-drenched teeth, the darkness surrounding him — everyone, without exception, would call him a devil.
… Not a devil, but The Devil.
“You know what I said about Devas before, Red?”
“About him being a little monster?” Red easily remembered. “Yeah, what about it?”
“Take the diminutive out of the whole sentence…” I stared at the human walking toward the woman lying on the ground, trying to get up.
Less than a month. That was how long it took for my opinion to change.
“… Devas is a monster.”
[...]
POV: ???
I had found this strange object some time ago. I looked at the sky, which was orange, starting to darken. Maybe one or two hours had passed. I looked around, asking the soldiers if it belonged to any of them, but it didn’t. Or rather, none of them could actually see the object in my hands.
It was different for each man I asked: one said it was a metal plate, another said it was a wooden board, one said it was stone, and a fisherman who had enlisted said it looked like some sort of smooth, gray coral. It changed from person to person, but none of them could truly see the real appearance of the object.
Some would say it was witchcraft; I also thought it was, for a moment, but given the situation we were in, this war, the one guiding me and lighting my path with every step, should—was, I had faith—be a sign from God… Even if it was a rather confusing one.
I didn’t know how to handle this strange object, so I had to figure it out by trial and error. When it lit up in light, I almost jumped off the rock I was sitting on, barely holding myself back. Just as I held back a sigh when I noticed several French letters written on the smooth, likely expensive glass surface of the object.
I didn’t know how to read or write, but I could recognize letters and words, even if I didn’t understand them.
“The Lord works in mysterious ways,” I muttered to myself. Before I could try my luck, a voice sounded in my head. It was different from the voice I usually heard, but it sounded just as distant and elevated.
[Enter the desired nickname for this system.]
[Note: Nickname changes will not be possible until "The Streamer" authorizes it.]
“A nickname, ‘The Streamer’?…” I murmured. I knew what a nickname was, but the way the voice said it didn’t seem to mean the same thing I thought. I didn’t even know what a ‘Streamer’ was.
The voice calling itself a ‘system’ was also strange, but not uncommon, for some reason I couldn’t quite grasp.
“Can it be anything?” I asked. It was a good thing I was a little apart; the soldiers would look at me strangely if they saw me talking to myself.
The voice replied a moment later.
[Recommendation: Choose a nickname that is relevant to your personal characteristics or refers to a distinctive aspect of your identity.]
“Not my name?” I bit my lip lightly. It must be something that requires confidentiality, or at least a bigger description…
I thought for a few seconds, which turned into minutes. There were several nicknames, titles, and names I could say, many that had been imposed on me, even though I didn’t agree with them. In the end, I decided on something I felt was the truest part of me.
“Just an ordinary peasant,” I said out loud. “That’s the nickname I choose.”
The voice sounded a second later.
[Nickname: “JustAnOrdinaryPeasant” confirmed. Initiating stream access.]
I didn’t understand, at first, what the stream was, but it didn’t take long to realize what I was seeing. A demon, a demon that was killing something angelic, or close to it. — A prophecy? A vision? — My thoughts raced with the scene. I felt my fists tighten when I realized I couldn’t help the woman, whose heart had been ripped out, still beating in the demon’s hand.
When the heart was crushed, the light inside it was familiar, or so I thought. The Lord’s light, something pure and immaculate, a blessing of creation. I was sure the demon would perish right there, incinerated or worse, by the sacred… But it didn’t happen. The light tried to escape, not to fight, but its attempts were in vain.
A squeeze with the fingers was enough for the light to go out and disappear—consumed—I realized, when the demon’s arm cracked and began to leak golden blood, the same that slowly dripped from his mouth. He had consumed the same light before, perhaps from another angelic being… Another death…
Step by step, he walked toward the woman, who was trying to get up. My instinct was to close my eyes; I didn’t want to see what would happen, the massacre and desecration I was sure would follow… But it didn’t happen, again. The demon didn’t attack the woman, didn’t desecrate her flesh, he just… Helped her up.
“Why?” she murmured.
“Why?” The woman asked the same question.
“Because you wanted to get up.” That was the demon’s answer, his voice drawn out. “Because a Queen doesn’t die on her knees.”
The conversation they had was confusing; I lacked context. I could understand only part of it, but the little I understood made my opinion of someone—him—change…
“You can rest now.”
The humanity in those few words, the sadness and sorrow, the weight they carried. His eyes…
… There was no way this man was a demon.
[…]
POV: Ainz “Momonga” Ooal “Suzuki” Gown
An expected ending; there was no way Devas could lose, not with a passive so strong as that… What a ridiculously broken ability. If something like that existed in YGGDRASIL, it would probably be a reward for a divine achievement or, at the very least, an item skill of equivalent rarity.
It still fell a bit short of the World Items, maybe on par with some of the weaker ones, but its usefulness was undeniable. Any level hundred player with this passive would be considered almost, if not completely, invincible against the Human Species. I knew players who played with Heteromorphic races who would kill for an ability like that.
… And not just in the game.
Not to mention the absurd range of the Killing Aura that this passive had. I don’t remember any other ability with such a large range, and all that without any cost...
I was never the best fighter, not in YGGDRASIL as Momonga, and definitely not as Suzuki Satoru, but my instincts as a player were sharp, and those instincts told me that: Devas was completely invincible against humans of the same level or lower. There wasn’t even a comparison.
“Really, quite impressive…” I let my thoughts slip out involuntarily.
“What would be impressive, my Lord Ainz?”
... I had forgotten I wasn’t alone in the throne room.
Albedo was with me. I looked around, diverting my gaze from the phone in my skeletal fingers. Not just her, but Demiurge was also here. He must have entered at some point, probably to give me a report.
“Something I discovered, a possible ally of Nazarick.” The words slipped out before I could think. A half-truth. I was getting good at saying them lately, just as good at improvising and spitting out bullshit. “He has an impressive ability, something that caught my attention.”
“A ‘he’? That’s good.” Albedo placed her hand in front of her mouth, smiling slightly. “This possible ally must be someone very strong and impressive to catch Lord Ainz’s attention. If I may ask, ‘does he’ have anything to do with this Orichalcum plate in your hand, my lord?”
I could see Demiurge's ears twitch slightly. He was paying attention to the conversation as well... I would need to be careful with what I said to avoid embarrassment.
“Yes, it was some sort of gift from him. I use it to communicate with him.” I thought for a moment before revealing, “The name of this ally is Devas.”
“Devas?” Demiurge said, without standing up, before discreetly coughing. “Forgive me, my lord, for overhearing your conversation with Albedo.”
“Irrelevant.” I raised my hand. “And yes, his name is Devas.”
“Like that group of gods in the north of Alfheim, Lord Ainz?” Albedo commented, cheerful and impressed. “I imagine he is one of them. Truly worthy of you, my lord, to have a god serving you.”
And there it was, the issue I feared... Should I clarify this now or later?
Devas would come to the ‘New World,’ or at least I hoped he would — I was counting on it. When he arrived, his race would be revealed; there was no avoiding it... Better to settle this now.
“No, Devas is not a god, nor a deva.” I informed. Before they could ask, I continued, “He is human.”
Before any of them could voice their dissatisfaction — which I knew was coming, judging by the look of disgust on their faces — I let my mana fill the throne room. I activated [Despair Aura I]; I wanted them to understand how serious I was.
“Devas will come to Nazarick in the future. I’ll tell you this now and repeat it to everyone, but mark my words.” I let the words settle as I increased the mana pressure in the room.
“I will not allow, tolerate, or ignore any attack — physical, mental, spiritual, verbal, or of any kind — against Devas.” I restrained myself from activating [Despair Aura II], as my next words seemed enough: “Any attack against him, I will consider a direct attack on me.”
Albedo’s sigh was more than audible. Demiurge stood still, like a statue, not even breathing.
I turned my gaze back to the stream, as the two processed my words. Devas had been standing still, motionless since Salem had been incinerated, staring at the sky. His eyes had returned to glowing orange, and the black miasma around him began to spin faster.
Additionally, the storm he had created was dying down. Not disappearing, but narrowing into a funnel with the top open, through which the broken moon of Remnant could be seen. Devas continued to stare at the sky, motionless... Then, he raised his right hand, the same hand still stained with golden blood.
The movement seemed to cause him pain, as his arm trembled slightly — perhaps spasms, the result of having devoured the divinity of the God of Light, I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter.
He raised his hand toward the sky, palm facing upward, and the Shadowflame appeared, slithering between his fingers, forming several infinity symbols before converging and spinning, forming a spiral — or perhaps an eye — in the center of his hand. Devas then placed his thumb on the purple flame, positioning it above the center of his palm... and fell motionless again.
He was somehow even more motionless than before. His breath ceased, the miasma around him stopped spinning, and the storm froze in the air, as if time had stopped. No Nightmares could be seen. Even the golden blood dripping from the cracks in his hand, forearm, and jaw stopped falling. The only thing in motion was the purple flame, the Shadowflame.
One, two, three... Minutes passed. When the fifth minute arrived, Devas sighed and dissipated the Shadowflame. The surrounding environment began to move again.
“I’m glad I trusted the stream’s concealment... I wasn’t disappointed…” he murmured. His voice echoed again. “This would have ended very poorly if ‘They’ had appeared… I don’t think I would have survived…”
Devas then turned toward the direction I knew was Vale and Beacon. Demiurge seemed to have regained his composure at the same time, perhaps realizing I was focused or avoiding interrupting me; both hypotheses seemed plausible.
“My lord Ainz, if I may ask: why is this human... Devas, so important?” The question was valid. His voice revealed little of his thoughts. “Forgive me for speaking so, but is he strong enough that even you hesitate to go against him? Is that why the order?”
“Have you gone mad, Demiurge?!” Albedo growled beside me. “How dare you insinuate such a thing?!”
I raised my right hand, and she immediately fell silent. I gave one last look at the stream, where Devas was already mounting the Wyvern Nightmare, flying back to Vale, before answering.
“I’ll answer your first question first: Devas is strong, but he is far from a threat to anyone in Nazarick, much less to me or the entire Tomb.” If [Echo Humanitatis] worked against all races, perhaps he could threaten the weaker NPCs, but no one here was human, except for Aureole Omega.
She was the only one Devas could threaten in his current state of strength.
“I admit, however, that he has the potential to grow and become something more. Both a threat and an ally.” I spoke without hesitation. Devas had endless worlds to explore, skills to develop, and it would be naïve of me to ignore that he could reach that level of power.
“But it is not this potential that motivated my order… No, Devas possesses something I desire, something that cannot be taken by force, nor coerced or forced. That is why he is so important to me.”
Devas had infinite possibilities of worlds to explore. Perhaps he could even find my homeland, my version of Earth... where the other guild members would be... where my companions were...
I felt the emotion suppressor activate, letting it take over, unlike how I used to control it.
I wouldn’t lose this opportunity, no matter how small, because of the NPCs' dislike of humans. I didn’t care about their hatred, they could despise whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted... as long as it didn’t become an obstacle for me.
“… I understand, Lord Ainz. Forgive me again for my heresy, and thank you for your wise words.” Demiurge didn’t ask what it was that Devas had that I desired, nor did Albedo. I didn’t bother trying to understand the reason.
With the emotion suppression activated, my thoughts turned back to the scene earlier, where the human was staring at the sky with his palm up and murmuring afterward.
He had said: “I’m glad I trusted the stream’s concealment... I wasn’t disappointed… This would have ended very poorly if 'They' had appeared… I don’t think I would have survived…”
Devas had potential, that was clear, but he was still far from facing, much less defeating, a god... at least the ones I knew in YGGDRASIL. Still, he seemed ready if ‘They’ came, the Brother Gods. He seemed prepared to face them directly, without retreating or begging.
‘I don’t think I would have survived...’
It was reasonable to assume he was talking about a battle against gods, but something told me that wasn’t the case...
... It didn’t seem like he was referring to the gods, but rather the attack itself.
[...]---[...]
Wow, another gigantic chapter. 8K words. I enjoyed writing from the perspective of other characters, it’s been a while since I wrote about him. I was able to get some plans in motion...
Well, as mentioned in the chapter, there will be an "Update of 10k viewers." This update will introduce some things that will allow me to add more character comments to the story. I’ve been thinking about this for a while, I didn’t include it earlier because I took the opportunity to introduce it here. It will be explained in the upcoming chapters.
About DXD: I have something planned for the Satans. Sirzechs and Ajuka are Super Devils for a reason here, they are literally mutants, and I will explain why. Serafall isn’t a ‘mutation’ like them, she is just very strong, but she is a regular devil, so she is, theoretically, the only one affected by the 'humanity' in Devas and his actions.
Sona is too weak and has fewer 'sins' as a devil, something I will explain when he goes to DXD, to be affected like Serafall. 'Red' and 'Greenie' would be affected if they hadn’t ‘messed up,’ as Serafall said. Well, that’s something for the future.
As for the viewers who didn’t show up: The people from NARUTO and the 'Fox Woman' (I haven’t forgotten her), it’s because they have a role in something coming up in the near future.
Finally, the two new viewers... or one, since something interrupted the stream and it kinda pissed her off. Who are they? I think I made it obvious, but there are many variations of one of them...
The one who had their 'invitation revoked momentarily' will return. I’ll leave this small spoiler here because, as already stated: it’s something temporary.
That said, I think I’ve written enough. I’ll end this note here.
Good night to all and happy reading!
PS: Just to make it clear, since some people came to ask me, Dylan is not a reincarnator, a reincarnated person, or anyone from Earth. I don’t even know how they came to that conclusion...