Multiverse's Holy Right

A streak of light cut across the sky, descending onto the deck of a luxury yacht at speeds beyond human reaction.

The fiery wings retracted, their radiant glow fading away. It was with these wings that Roy had previously generated a domain of authority, shielding Erica from the environmental impacts of his 'Godspeed' state.

As the wings dissolved into scattered points of light, the halo above Roy's head also dissipated. He reverted from his angelic form back to his human appearance.

Gently setting down Erica's delicate frame, the Italian maiden's face flushed with a feverish glow, her heartbeat quickening. In the past, Erica had held a princess-like status within the Bronze Black Cross—what man would dare be so presumptuous with such a beauty?

After all, Erica was merely a fourteen-year-old girl. Though her figure had developed rather excessively for her age, she was still at that tender stage of youthful infatuation. Being held in such intimate contact by Roy, who appeared to be of similar age, and having even her most untouched, delicate skin exposed due to her torn dress—even the most composed knight would feel a surge of bashfulness.

"Hmm, deciding to have this yacht move as far from Ponza Island as possible was indeed the right call. Otherwise, I'd have had to carry you all the way back to the Italian mainland."

Roy, in truth, was already in his thirties and far from being an awkward recluse who had never touched a girl's hand. He felt no discomfort or embarrassment in such ambiguous situations with women.

The yacht's crew were no ordinary staff but magicians dispatched by the Bronze Black Cross. Upon seeing someone suddenly land on the deck, they had initially reacted as if facing a dire threat—until recognizing Roy, at which point their expressions shifted to reverence and fear.

Though they hadn't witnessed the specifics of Roy's battle with Metatron, they had seen the devastation wrought upon Ponza Island and the roaring tsunamis. The sheer, terrifying power and overwhelming magical energy had left these magicians utterly shaken.

Now, seeing their princess seemingly on intimate terms with the King, they exchanged glances and quietly withdrew.

"My apologies, King! Please allow Erica to freshen up first before attending to your commands. My current state is hardly presentable."

Erica took a deep breath, suppressing her embarrassment, and performed a knightly salute.

"Now that you mention it, I might need to tidy up a bit myself."

Roy glanced at his attire. The cardinal's robe he wore was enchanted to resist wrinkles or stains from water exposure, but his body still carried the briny scent of seawater.

"Then... perhaps I should assist you first, King. Once I've attended to you, I can tend to myself."

"Assist? And how exactly would that work? Would you strip bare in the bathroom and use your youthful body to help me relax?"

Roy suddenly teased, his tone playful.

Erica was stunned. She never expected Roy, who usually appeared cold and aloof, to suddenly speak so flirtatiously. Could it be that she had earned his genuine trust, allowing her to glimpse this hidden side of the King?

The young woman, who held the rank of Grand Knight, found her thoughts in disarray. Even her usual eloquence faltered, her words stumbling slightly.

"...My King, please show a little more restraint... Of course, it's not that I'm unwilling. Though attending to your bedchamber isn't part of a knight's duties... but if you truly desire this of me, I would ask that you grant me a proper title!"

Erica, after all, wasn't her close friend Liliana, who might lose all capacity for thought out of sheer embarrassment. She quickly regained her composure, even coolly making her demand.

She knew well that once she had sworn herself to Roy as a knight, if this King of hers harbored improper intentions toward her, there would be no escape. She had some confidence in her own beauty, but to simply surrender her body without dignity was absolutely not what Erica wanted. What she desired was recognition—a title.

Such was Erica's nature. She approached problems with a mindset of maximizing benefits. Knowing there was no escape, she even dared to use her body as a means to secure greater advantage. This woman was shrewd to a fault, enough to sometimes make her quite detestable. Yet it couldn't be denied that when she devoted herself wholeheartedly to your cause, she was remarkably dependable. Hers was a talent of exceptional caliber.

"Ah, I was only joking, Erica. Don't take it seriously."

Roy's teasing expression faded, replaced once more by calm indifference.

The sudden shift in demeanor left Erica unsettled, even anxious. Had the King found her lacking? Did he deem her unworthy of a title?

Amidst these tangled thoughts, Erica found herself speaking with an inexplicable hint of disappointment. "...Understood. Then, my King, please go ahead and freshen up first."

"No, you go ahead, Erica. I'm in no hurry..."

After a pause, Roy suddenly grasped Erica's arm, his fingers lightly tracing the blisters that had formed on her fair skin. His voice was gentle as he asked, "...Does it hurt?"

This abrupt alternation between coldness and tenderness only further tangled Erica's emotions. She arched a brow slightly. "...Compared to the training I endured to become a knight, this pain is nothing. It's just that my mana is depleted now, so I can't perform healing magic. I'll apply some ointment for now, and once my mana recovers, I'll heal it properly."

Hearing Erica dismiss the pain so casually, Roy said nothing. Instead, he murmured an incantation under his breath. To Erica's astonishment, he performed the magic himself, healing every blister on her arm.

"Unlike other Campione, I've always had an interest in magic. This was my first attempt at healing magic—seems the results are quite satisfactory. A woman ought to take better care of herself. Such delicate skin shouldn't bear scars."

Roy's hand lingered for a moment on Erica's slender arm before he withdrew it. "...Go on, Erica. Clean yourself up."

"Understood, my King."

Erica cradled her once-injured right arm with her left, as if still dazed. In a half-trance, she made her way to her cabin aboard the yacht.

Only when the girl's figure disappeared did Roy press his forehead and mutter self-deprecatingly, "...I was never the shy type around girls before, but I wasn't exactly smooth-tongued either. How did I suddenly become so gifted at this?"

"...Could this be another ability inherited from Aleister Crowley? Maybe it never manifested before because my life only revolved around Laura... No, actually, I remember always enjoying teasing Laura in the past."

Roy exhaled and headed toward his room. As the saying goes, fair ladies are gentlemen's desire. Now that he was the Demon King on Earth, it wouldn't be unreasonable to arrogantly collect beauties for his amusement.

If he ever truly became the kind of scum who casually toyed with young girls' hearts and bodies, it definitely wouldn't be his fault—it would be Aleister Crowley's. After all, Aleister was that exact type of scoundrel who deceived women's affections. He was merely following in his father's footsteps.

Roy quickly cleared his mind of these thoughts, no longer dwelling on them, and instead focused on the new authority he had gained from slaying Metatron—

『The Face of God』!

***

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