Harbingers of Change

His frustration was palpable, only topped by his disappointment in himself. Demiurge was deploying notes on an interactive map of his own creation, a marvel of magic and ingenuity. This piece of two-by-two-meter parchment displayed his entire network of subordinates, giving live updates on the ongoings of the world. He was using the decrepit church on the former seventh floor as his base, as the fiery and near-inhospitable hellscape gave him a sense of home and belonging, a rare comfort he allowed himself.

He had yet to find a single trace of Yuuki. He hadn't found a single clue where Chronoa could be hidden, even with shadow demons now counting in the millions and specters in the thousands, but it wasn't nearly enough as the majority were concentrated in the Western Nations and Tempest itself, with the rest doing their work in Sarion and the southern continent.

The frozen continent, the domain of Guy and Velzard, was off limits, and any attempt at sending his agents there had failed spectacularly, perishing under the unrelenting icy winds that froze anyone who Guy did not directly employ. The other area that was out of his reach was the Eastern Empire, the domain of Michael and his impeccable counterintelligence network. Although Velgrynd had supposedly left the Empire to pursue the real Rudra, her influence could still be felt, her wards were still active, and would be for at least a decade or so.

The last area he wasn't actively observing was the Ulgrasia Republic, because it was a small and unimportant nation that warranted no reason to waste resources on it. The people there lived in small primitive communities and worshipped spirits. There were very few natural resources or strategic value in the location and no world power cared about the place, the elves at best used the place as an elemental mage test subject resource. At best, it would be included in Tempest alongside Sarion when the elven nation would either be forced or willingly submit to the righteous rule of Lord Momonga.

Demiurge had left about a dozen shadow demons to patrol the major settlements and report any suspicious activity, but thus far there was none, unfortunately.

As he worked, Nazarick materialized beside him and announced, "I have spare energy in the budget due to optimizations, and Lord Momonga has authorized you to use it."

"Three Specters and the rest can be used to create Shadow Demons," Demiurge replied without taking his eyes off the map, scribbling down notes.

"I looked over your spy network, and while it is basically flawless, I think there might be one improvement that can be made," Nazarick commented, waiting for the demon's immediate reaction.

Demiurge glanced up, facing the slightly translucent figure. Nazarick was the will of Momonga. To ignore her would be nearly as bad as ignoring the Supreme Ruler; thus he was inclined to take her seriously.

"Go on," he said.

"Your efforts are too mechanical, with efficiency in mind, but my analysis of sentient species shows that logic and efficiency are not as widespread practice as they ideally should be. Your spy network lacks personal touch, agents who intimately understand the nature of sapient creatures. Ones who will look in places which logic dictates to be ignored." Nazarick walked up to the map and created an identical one beside it, filling it with the information she operated with, supplying thousands of notes on where Tempest's denizens and other topics under surveillance acted against his predictions and assumptions.

Demiurge noted a lot of such discrepancies, speed-replicating the information before him, particularly of the people acting against self-interest and the interests of the nation. Mortal creatures were flawed and didn't fall neatly into his patterns of cruel and calculating logic, and therein laid his biggest flaw. Demiurge realized that his way of thinking didn't account for the sheer stupidity of many mortals. He had assumed that everyone reasoned in logical patterns when it simply wasn't the case.

"Take for example the capital police force. Their efficiency is so high because of their unorthodox methods, not despite it. The hobgoblins and their companions understand that criminals will act not on logic and self-preservation but often purely in pursuit of short-term gratification, even knowing the inevitable consequences of their actions," Nazarick continued.

"I see. Hmm, the information you have access to is invaluable. Could I get authorization to access it and request some of your time to help me improve upon my methods?" Demiurge inquired.

"Time and resources are already allocated. Lord Momonga considers your work instrumental in the long-term success of the nation. Here is a proposal to make another branch of the intelligence department by using more personable agents who can create a network of willing and unwitting informants." Nazarick materialized a folder and handed it over to the demon, fading away.

Demiurge took the folder from her and began to absorb its contents like a dry sponge. A new set of his agents would be trained to study the nature of mortal beings and use it against them on the most personal level. No tool, whether fear, desire, uncertainty, or sense of belonging, was too unimportant not to be exploited. Perhaps with this extension of his reach, he would finally find signs of where Yuuki was hiding and how he still operated in the Western Nations.

Momonga walked beside Cocytus through a courtyard of the vermin lord's personal project, a military school and academy that accepted students as young as five years old to start their martial training and teach them the lifestyle of a warrior, eventually to reinforce his armies.

It was through training adults that Cocytus found his love for teaching, blasting beyond his just NPC flavor text. He thrived upon knowing that it was his guidance that was creating new warriors for Tempest, ready to fight and die for the nation's rulers at every possible moment. The school never fell silent as classes continued throughout the day and night, always striving to produce the best of the best.

Momonga had decided to take some time out of his busy schedule to meet up with Cocytus to show the insectoid that he mattered and that his efforts were noticed, which clearly had a profound effect on his loyal servant, who was practically beaming from every part of his exoskeleton from sheer euphoria.

Momonga just listened to Cocytus explain his plan for the development of the military academy and how, over time, branches could be opened all over hegemony, as there were overwhelmingly extensive lists of applicants due to social status not mattering upon application, only dedication. Freed from the weak follow strong dichotomy that still influenced much of Tempest, the lower classes were fighting tooth and nail to improve their status in the emerging Tempest society. Being professional warriors and bodyguards for the rich was a sure way up, even if you were the weakest of the professionals.

But it wasn't the only path up. The maid school was facing a similar near-explosive increase of eager applicants, forcing Sebas to hire many recent graduates to become teachers; even that proved to be difficult. With the explosive increase of wealth across the board, there were a lot of people who could now afford to hire housekeepers, and the highly trained maids and manservants were pretty much guaranteed to get the job on their graduation day, with eager employers lining themselves right outside the exit with contracts and promises.

The Pleiades, who until now were mostly consultants, now held permanent positions in the school. Sebas had all but given up on reclaiming his butler position within the tomb and had fully embraced the new position, to much praise from the highlords, occasionally sparring and training Milim, who was a frequent visitor as the only other known dragonoid.

Pero had warned him that it would be the case, as the unification of previously separated nations had led to unprecedented economic growth, with the UTC right in the middle of it. The trade company was essentially the world's only megacorporation, consuming large mercantile businesses and companies like candy, but unlike how things were back on Earth, it was controlled by the government and not the other way around. Pero, of course, was reaping undreamt profits, and his personal wealth was ludicrous, though his goal wasn't just to get rich but to ensure a fair and opportunity-driven economy flourished in Tempest with sustainability in mind. Most of the wealth he obtained promptly went back into investments, whether it be constructing more factories in Jistav or revamping older businesses. And with that, Mariabell's influence was fading by the day, and her shares gradually diminished through shell companies he propped up. They would buy out the newly minted shares and reduce her share in the company from forty percent to now a meager seventeen percent.

Momonga watched with interest upon the groups of children standing in rows and swinging their practice swords in a synchronized manner as an instructor walked among them, correcting their postures and pointing out mistakes.

One thing he knew for sure. His hegemony was on a good path, and it wouldn't end up like Earth. With friends who shared the same vision and subordinates whose loyalties were unquestionable, he had no need to worry about inner sabotage. After all, empires always fell from within, and as long as the core of the hegemony was strong and unified, he had nothing to worry about.

Unlike her oldest sister, Velgrynd barely knew how to use her Godform, having never thought she would need to use it. Her movements through the immaterial parts of existence were clumsy and with barely any semblance of direction, scrabbling for hold and momentum. That didn't mean she would give up though, and she persevered. Finally, she was searching for the soul fragments of her beloved.

She felt other Gods watch her movements but not interfere with her actions as she anchored herself into another world, one where a fragment of Rudra was dying on the street after getting hit by a car.

The God of Death of this world, in the form of a gentle elderly man, stood waiting for the man to finish bleeding out. He didn't say anything as he watched her scoop up the soul and add it to the one she took from Michael.

"He is mine," She declared to the God whose name she did not know nor cared to find out.

"Be careful, young one, and only take what's yours. This one, fragmented, painful, incomplete life." The God shook his head and faded away.

It was but one small fragment of the greater whole, but it was progress. She felt Rudra's pain and longing. The man she loved with all her heart longed to be reunited with her.

So many more fragments needed to be found. She knew it would take time, but Velgrynd knew she would stop at nothing. No Gods would stand in her way; she would restore the man she loved.

Just a few more and the soul would become strong enough to properly reunite with its largest fragment. A young man, a hero from the cardinal world. He would be the vessel that united her husband, powerful enough to restore him to his former glory.

She hadn't located him yet, but her brother Momonga knew how to find him as his agents monitored all the important figures in the Western world. Masayuki Honjou was safe for now, and even though Micheal's agents weren't guarding him anymore per their agreement, the hero's aura was. Momonga had given orders for his agents not to harm the young man, so she was assured nothing would happen in her absence.

It was easy to see that the manas was eager to discard her and Rudra without as much as a second thought, and Velgrynd didn't find it surprising. The skill had been Veldanava's tool a lot longer than it was Rudra's, and considering how selfish her brother turned out to be, she wasn't surprised that the skill gained this type of personality instead of the selfless hero Rudra was in his prime.

Michael and the Eastern Empire weren't her problem as Velzard and Momonga were more than capable of dealing with whatever problems Micheal could possibly cause on their own.

She had her own problems to handle, and she was already tracing the next soul fragment of her beloved, to a low-power world under attack by the weak Phantoms.

Editing by aidan_lo.

Proofreading by Sluethen, IAMTHEPLOKOKIOPO, fvvck, Stac, Alassandro, and aidan_lo.

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