Birth of a Demon Lord, Part IV

Confronted by the sight unfolding before my eyes, I could do nothing but stand there, jaw slack, struck utterly dumb.

"Uh..."

How was I even supposed to describe that thing? To call it a monster felt far too crude for its breathtaking elegance; to call it a divine beast felt completely wrong given the palpable malice radiating from its frame; and to call it a mere living creature felt absurd given its sheer, unfathomable scale.

A wolf easily measuring hundreds of meters.

I had to crane my neck back until my cervical spine screamed in protest before I could even catch a glimpse of its gleaming fangs.

"Oh dear. It seems I've startled you."

"...Startled would be an understatement."

"Perhaps I should have assumed a guise other than a wolf?"

Truth be told, the moment it had manifested, my survival instincts had nearly driven me to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠vaporize the entire ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surrounding region. The sole reason my hand had stayed was the suspicion that this lupine silhouette matched the sender of that private message—the 'Marquis of Wolves.' Had it taken virtually any other shape, I likely would have pulled the trigger without a second thought.

"Are you... MarquisWolf?"

"Indeed I am. Marquis, Marquis of Wolves—address me however you see fit. Titles and formalities are of little consequence."

"Let's stick with Marquis, then."

It was the Marquis of Wolves, just as expected. Where or how he had materialized remained an absolute mystery, but he was undeniably one of the forum moderators, and he seemed to possess at least a semblance of common sense.

Save for the fact that conversing with something of that magnitude was agonizingly awkward.

"Oh, dear me. I forgot how terribly inconvenient this scale is for conversation. Give me just a moment."

As if plucking the thought directly from my head, the Marquis spoke. At the same instant, the colossal beast rippled like a heat mirage, collapsing inward before a sharp, contained flash of light erupted.

"I always seem to forget whenever I meet humanoid Demon Lords. Forgive me."

Stepping forward through the dissipating radiance was a gentleman in a bespoke suit, bearing the head of a glossy black crow.

"Allow me to introduce myself properly. I am one of the Seventy-Two Elders of Pandemonium, active on the Demon Lord Gallery under the handle Marquis of Wolves—Amon."

Clad in a tailored black suit, crowned with corvid feathers, and leaning upon a white ivory cane, this mysterious gentleman embodied the moniker of 'Demon Lord' to perfection. If a presence that effortlessly inspired dread and suffocating awe merely by standing still wasn't a Demon Lord, who possibly could be?

"Ah. I'm Shin Soohyun. It's... a pleasure to meet you."

It was an awkward greeting—one that could easily be construed as stiff or offensive—yet the Marquis of Wolves, Amon, simply threw back his head and laughed with booming, good-natured vigor.

"The more I look at you, the more fascinating you are! Though I suppose I should have expected nothing less the moment I saw Dimensional Log 111."

"Thank you."

Was this what Demon Lords were truly like, or was Amon simply an extraordinary outlier? He was as pleasant as any ordinary man, and far more impeccably courteous than most humans I had ever encountered.

"By the way, how exactly did you get here? Earlier, a warning popped up about dimensional log exposure, and—"

It was a question of paramount importance, masking the dread gnawing at my gut: Can entities from other dimensions freely cross over? If transcendent beings could breach realms so effortlessly, humanity's remnants in this world could be wiped out at a moment's notice.

"Ah, rest assured. I have not crossed dimensions or anything of the sort. How could such a feat even be possible?"

"What?"

"As you have likely surmised, the Demon Lord Gallery's dimensional logs classify realms according to their Dimensional Depth. Ascending from a realm in the 600-series depth all the way to a 100-series realm is virtually impossi—wait, don't tell me..."

Amon trailed off, studying my blank stare. After a brief pause, he tilted his crow head backward and burst into raucous laughter.

"My friend, does your world possess absolute zero knowledge regarding dimensional mechanics or magic? That would certainly explain your look! What a delightfully intriguing realm, hahahaha!"

"...How did you know that?"

"Your future self was kind enough to enlighten me. But setting that aside... this form before you is, quite naturally, an illusion. Think of it as a strain of interdimensional communication mediated by the Gallery's spatial magic. To draw an analogy to your realm's technological framework... yes, a 3D holographic video call would be the most apt comparison."

"I don't grasp all the mechanics, but I understand the gist."

"That is more than sufficient. Now, pleasantries concluded, let us attend to business. Newborn Demon Lord Shin Soohyun, newly admitted to the Gallery—do you harbor any questions or curiosities regarding our little community? Trivial or otherwise, ask whatever you wish."

Watching the Marquis effortlessly flick his ivory cane to conjure multiple Gallery windows in midair, I voiced the question that had plagued me the most.

"What on earth is a Demon Lord, truly? And why did I qualify for it, let alone receive an invitation to the Gallery?"

"Mmm, a question befitting a newly awakened one. Very well. First, a Demon Lord is quite literally what the title implies. Once upon a time, it denoted rulers of demonic tribes, absolute evils, and the like, but the definition has diversified considerably in recent epochs. In modern parlance, it is simpler to view it as a 'peculiar breed of villain.' As for your qualification—"

Hooking his cane toward one of the floating translucent displays, the Marquis performed a few brisk gestures before pivoting the screen to face me.

"This is restricted data accessible only to administrators, but those who need to know are already well aware, so no harm done. Have a look. The metrics are evaluated differently depending on each dimension's total population, species variety, chronological units, and several other variables."

A brief glance revealed that the roster spanned thousands of lines at the very least. Just looking at the endless scroll of ascension criteria made my head spin.

"...Why are there so many conditions?"

There were genuinely far too many. It baffled me that I could possibly be the first new arrival in such a long time when the barrier to entry seemed broad enough to encompass an encyclopedia. With this many pathways, why hadn't there been a steady influx of newcomers?

"The directory is vast, yet in this modern era, the conditions that can practically be achieved are pitifully few. At best, perhaps up to Condition 4 possesses any realistic feasibility."

"Condition 4?"

"The others are rendered virtually impossible by Causality and the Balance, whereas slaying a Rank 3 Angel remains within the realm of theoretical possibility. Though, to bring down a Rank 3 Celestial, one would likely have to obliterate a couple of dimensions along the way."

"..."

The scale of the conversation had expanded far too rapidly for my mind to keep pace. Causality? The Balance? Obliterating dimensions?

"...If you don't mind me asking, Marquis, what rank do you hold?"

"Oh, nothing worth mentioning. Counted from the very bottom among Pandemonium's hierarchy. Sitting idly in the Moderate Pacifist faction while living off unearned bread, I can, at best, manipulate a dozen or so dimensions."

The moment those words left his beak, I was forced to drastically revise my entire perception of what a 'Demon Lord' was. If a creature capable of manipulating over a dozen dimensions was dismissed as 'at best' and a bottom-tier freeloader, just how monstrously powerful were the beings recognized as apex predators in that Gallery?

Struggling on a solitary planet with a single race, I felt laughably fragile.

Perhaps reading the turmoil churning in my thoughts, the Marquis offered what sounded remarkably close to consoling words.

"Do not be disheartened. You are by no means weak. For psychic phenomena to spontaneously manifest in a dimension of such shallow depth, and for you to attain this level of mastery entirely on your own, is an astounding feat in its own right."

"...Thank you."

To live long enough to be comforted by a Demon Lord. Truly, survival brought stranger surprises every day.

"Well, back to the matter at hand. Judging by your past record, you appear to have satisfied Condition #2. Conditions #1 and #3 were clearly out of the question."

"Even to my eyes, nothing fits except number two."

Killing ninety percent of humanity didn't match the reality of my actions, and this world held no other intelligent species besides mankind.

"Though, what about the sections obscured by hashes in that condition—"

"Ah, values masked by '#' denote variables that fluctuate according to the observer's relative metrics. The system likely registered both you and me as concurrent observers, resulting in a display conflict. I shall look away; take another look."

Waiting until the Marquis politely averted his gaze, I inspected the 'Demon Lord Awakening Conditions' once more. Astonishingly, every single hashed segment had resolved into legible figures.

Having wiped out slightly more ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠than half of humanity, I had cleared the initial prerequisite. The 'other species' likely referred to the endless hordes of monsters that had poured from the Gates. Clearing one hundred million seemed staggering at first glance, yet considering the decades of non-stop slaughter, the tally made grim sense. And the requirement of twenty years in isolation had been met down to the exact second at midnight when the Gallery interface first materialized.

Undeniably, unequivocally, and bitterly... I was an existence that fit the title of 'Demon Lord' to a tee.

"Do you have any further inquiries?"

"Quite a few, actually. To begin with, what changes once you awaken as a Demon Lord..."

There was no leisure to drown in remorse or self-reflection. Too many vital questions still demanded answers.

"—The remainder you can discover on your own within the Gallery. You are welcome to ask questions directly on occasion, but bear in mind: excessive personal socializing is strictly prohibited."

"Understood, Marquis."

"As I mentioned in my message, consult the thread authored by the One-Eyed... er, [OneEyedGeezer]. Everything from the Gallery's history to its contemporary landscape is cataloged there. It reads quite like a fantasy chronicle, so you should find it rather engaging."

"Thank you for everything."

The moment our brief farewells concluded, the Marquis, who had kept me company for the better part of an hour, vanished without leaving so much as a whisper of displaced air. Given that he had merely been a high-fidelity projection, it was only natural.

"Well, then..."

Dinner was long behind me, I had caught a brief nap earlier in the afternoon, and sleep wasn't strictly necessary anyway. This meant the entire stretch between now and sunrise was completely mine to squander. There was no better time to indulge in the premier pastime for whiling away endless nocturnal hours: online community engagement—or, to borrow the term the Marquis had just taught me, 'gallerying.'

Opening the interface no longer required muttering embarrassing verbal triggers like before. Under the guidance of our friendly neighborhood Padak, MarquisWolf, my mental commands had been cleanly synchronized with the Gallery's controls.

The first place I navigated to was the Hall of Fame.

Earlier, the Marquis had assured me that the riots would be quelled with the assistance of fellow deputy managers and several veteran fixed handles. If his words held true, the front page of the recommended posts ought to look relatively sane by now.

Clinging to that faint hope, I opened the Hall of Fame.

What greeted my eyes was a remarkably sanitized board.

Gone was the manic feed drowning under shrieks of chaos, ruin, and apocalyptic despair. Well, a healthy dose of madness still permeated the thread titles, but that was negligible. This was the Demon Lord Gallery, after all; I had begun to accept that eccentricity was simply the baseline here.

"Let's see..."

It was time to partake in these Demon Lords' entertainment in earnest.

Not as an intruder, but as a Demon Lord in my own right.