Multiverse's Holy Right

Clang—clang—

Fragments of metal scattered across the ground before dissolving into motes of energy. Like the Sword of Judgment in Roy's possession, the Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi was a manifestation of divine authority. Even if shattered, as long as its original wielder still existed, the sword could gradually be reforged anew.

Anyone with even a passing knowledge of Japanese mythology would recognize the Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi as the divine weapon extracted from the tail of the Yamata-no-Orochi after Susano-o-no-Mikoto slew the serpent. In this world's mythological framework, it symbolized the God of Steel slaying the ancient Earth Mother Goddess and forging her remains into his divine armament.

Roy carefully sifted through his memories, dredging up fragments of information about this world's Susanoo from sixteen years ago.

Once, Susanoo had been a Heretic God, wandering the earth for countless years before growing weary of such an existence and retreating into seclusion within the Netherworld. This was one of the final fates awaiting Heretic Gods who were not slain by Campiones. By choosing seclusion, they renounced their wandering ways and ceased influencing the mortal world, existing only as recluses.

"If you're a recluse, you should just quietly drink tea and play chess, observing the developments of the present world. But you insist on reaching beyond your boundaries and continuing to influence the mortal realm. Since you refuse to remain in seclusion, let me, a Campione, help you return to myth."

Roy snorted coldly. His words seemed like a soliloquy, yet also like a declaration of war directed across the dimensional divide at the meddlesome deity.

There were many Heretic Gods who secluded themselves in the Netherworld, yet none of them violated the rules—all remained quietly in seclusion, detached from worldly affairs. Only Susanoo insisted on overstepping his bounds. Under these circumstances, Roy, as a Campione, had ample justification to subjugate this reclusive god.

However, subduing this Storm God wasn't something he could do immediately. Roy had exhausted his authorities for now, making it impossible even if he wanted to. Moreover, Susanoo was hiding in the Netherworld, making him exceedingly difficult to locate.

Within Pandora's domain, Roy had studied the Netherworld extensively. He knew it was a "realm of thought," where concepts like distance didn't exist. Without precise coordinates, finding a specific entity there was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Roy had no interest in playing hide-and-seek with Susanoo, so he decided to wait for an opportune moment to strike him down.

"Lily, tie up this woman named Ena Seishuuin. Upon closer inspection, she's quite a talented miko. Have her join my ritual as well. Treat her injuries slightly—just enough to keep her from dying, no need for a full recovery. And don't treat her or that girl over there, Yuri Mariya, too kindly. They're merely 'tools' required for my ritual. Treat them like slaves—no need to grant them human rights."

As he spoke, Roy cast a sidelong glance at the immobilized Yuri Mariya. The fourteen-year-old hime-miko in her shrine maiden attire trembled and quickly lowered her head, hiding the fury and disgust in her eyes.

This girl would likely retain her negative impression of Campiones for a long time. Two years ago, she had been caught up in misfortune when a Marquis abducted her for a ritual, forcing her to witness countless innocent witches and mikos meet gruesome ends.

Just as she was finally starting to forget that nightmare two years later, Roy had captured her for another ritual—this time dragging all of Tokyo into the chaos. In Yuri's heart, Campiones were probably no different from demons now.

Not that Roy cared about her feelings. He valued only her spiritual sensitivity as a hime-miko. Beyond that, she was just another pretty-faced girl you could find anywhere. For someone of Roy's status, women like her were a dime a dozen. If he wanted, he could toy with her body and mind right now without a second thought.

"Oh, and notify the History Compilation Committee of Japan. I can forgive their previous presumptuousness—on the condition that within seven days, they deliver enough talented mikos to Jerusalem. If they fail, tell the Japanese government to prepare for a change of capital."

Every grievance has its source, and every debt its debtor. The mastermind behind all this was Susanoo. That Heretic God probably thought he and Marquis Voban would fight to mutual destruction, hence this scheme to play peacemaker and extract benefits from both sides. What he never anticipated was Marquis Voban being outright killed by Roy, turning his ploy into a classic case of going for wool and coming home shorn.

After brief consideration, Roy could roughly guess Susanoo's intentions.

Roy harbored no thoughts of destroying Tokyo. As a pivotal hub in the global economy, Tokyo's destruction would trigger worldwide economic turmoil, destabilizing the current world order.

He vaguely understood the concept of 'Magic Gods' mentioned in Aleister's writings—the world's existence itself was what made it interesting. Accidentally destroying it would erase countless pleasures. No one wanted to face a void, an empty world, especially not those directionless souls whose spirits had already 'withered'...

Though Roy had no intention of leveling Tokyo, threats and disciplinary actions were still necessary. Coincidentally, he needed a large number of hime-mikos—a perfect task for the History Compilation Committee to handle. As a mature organization, the Committee would undoubtedly become extremely obedient in his presence from this day forward.

"Erica, can you still walk?"

Roy eyed the girl struggling to maintain her footing, his tone casual.

"The brief rest restored some magical energy, my King!! Fighting is impossible now, but mere movement isn't an issue."

The Italian maiden limped forward, speaking with determined resilience.

"These injuries would leave you weakened for days even with magical treatment. My authorities are temporarily unusable, but tomorrow after recovery, I'll heal you properly."

"I couldn't possibly trouble my King to expend precious authorities!"

Erica responded with reverential trepidation.

"True battles worthy of my personal intervention are rare. These authorities might as well be used to heal my loyal and valiant knight—a reward for your earlier valor. Though... after rewards come punishments..."

Roy's gaze traveled over the fourteen-year-old girl, his tone growing increasingly playful.

Despite her youth, Erica possessed striking curves—especially the snow-white fullness above her dress's slender waist, paired with the enchanting smile on her delicate features, making her resemble some seductive fairy-tale spirit.

As a healthy male, Roy's claimed indifference was pure pretense. He suspected even his irresponsible father Aleister wouldn't easily pass up such an obligingly beautiful maiden if present.

Aleister remained the sole individual Roy was absolutely determined to surpass—he would exceed him in every conceivable aspect.

In this life, Roy would never be inferior to Aleister!

"Rest briefly. We depart directly for Jerusalem!"

Roy was a man of decisive action. His next step was to complete the ritual to summon a Heretic God and see exactly who he could call forth. Given the location in Jerusalem and using an ancient artifact of the Jewish kingdom as a medium, even if the summoned being wasn't King Solomon, it would undoubtedly be related to the Bible.

***

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