The Evil God Makes His Move (1)
The headquarters of the Holy Order. The Saintess's private office.
Seraphina stared down at the amber ring with cold, sunken eyes. It was a ring containing the authority of an ancient Demon King—a treasure so rare that any black mage on the Continent would gladly trade their life for it.
Yet, at this very moment, it was screaming in a pathetic, undignified wail.
"Aaaaargh!"
It shrieked, utterly devoid of dignity.
"Haa..."
Seraphina let out a soft sigh as the scream pierced not her ears, but her very mind. She did not yet fully grasp the true value of the ring. She merely guessed it was an exceptionally rare artifact because it could speak, but its true power and origins remained a mystery to her.
Yet even without knowing the ring's secrets, she could easily deduce what had just transpired. She had seen exactly where that sudden surge of amber energy—the tyrannical force that had begun to encroach upon her body from beneath her skin—had been halted.
I've troubled my God once again.
On her left hand was the rosary. Once a symbol of Cardinal Miraj's authority, it had become a Sacred Relic inhabited by the God of the other world after the descent ritual. Ignorant of its own insignificance, the amber energy had dared to covet this holy item. It had boldly reared its head before the Lord of Silver, claiming it would show her just how powerless her God truly was.
Seraphina's *Gaze Detection* had perceived the entire event with crystal clarity. She had watched the amber energy trace the silver gaze backward, ascending into the heavens. It climbed endlessly, far beyond the heights where the floating islands of the Constellations would drift back on the Continent. It had headed for the sky above the skies.
And then, a few seconds later, it came to this.
"Aaaaargh! M-Monster! It's a calamity! It's ruin itself...!"
The soul within the ring groaned, utterly consumed by terror. Its previous arrogance was nowhere to be found; the ring itself trembled violently. This stark reaction allowed Seraphina to easily piece things together. Although her *Gaze Detection* had its limits and could not show her what had transpired in the palace where the God of the other world resided, even a fool could guess what had happened based on this sudden, drastic shift in behavior.
"So you saw Him," she murmured. "How incredibly foolish. To think you could ever measure up to Him."
...And I'm a little jealous, too.
Seraphina swallowed the thought that naturally followed. Instead, she channeled her mana into the thrashing, hysterical ring. The corruption that had been eating away at her body vanished with a shriek. However, the pathway forged between her and the ring during the process remained intact. Seraphina sent her mana flowing down that very path.
Her innate talent as a priestess was infused into the mana she sent. It was a sublime fruit that allowed the divine to manifest upon the earth. Even the soul of the Demon King was momentarily captivated by its purity.
"Huuu... Ah... Ahhh..."
Feeling the Saintess's silver mana, the ring's chaotic state gradually stabilized. The voice echoing directly in her mind began to quiet down. Finally regaining its senses, the soul of the Demon King cried out in a trembling voice.
"Y-You... just what kind of entity are you serving?!"
There was no trace of its former demeanor. No sinister cunning, no lingering nobility. Pride and arrogance had vanished entirely. Only a primal fear of survival remained, like a herbivore cornered by an apex predator. Whether its true identity was a high-ranking demon or a Demon King, such a pathetic display seemed far too trivial for an entity that was supposed to be feared across the Continent.
Yet Seraphina deemed it a perfectly natural outcome. Any evil, any good, any existence in this world would inevitably pale before the master of that silver gaze. The priestess serving the greatest of all beings whispered to the ring with an expressionless face.
"I don't believe that is any of your business."
"W-What...?!"
Seraphina's dismissive tone incited the Demon King's wrath. Normally, he would have laughed it off as a cute attempt at rebellion. But now, having tasted true terror for the first time in his existence, the Demon King lacked the composure to let it slide. The ring vibrated frantically, spewing out a thick, amber mist.
"You insolent girl! Do you think you've become a dragon just because you ride on one's back?!"
Manipulating the mana he had amassed over hundreds of years, the Demon King's soul attempted to strangle Seraphina. Invading her body from within was impossible, blocked by the rosary. However, since the rosary only reacted upon direct contact, he reasoned that physical execution away from her wrist was entirely possible. The amber energy surged out of the ring, taking physical form. A rugged, beastly hand covered in coarse brown fur materialized, reaching for the girl's slender neck.
And then—
"W-What is the meaning of this?!"
The hand, extended with all its might, flailed wildly without even coming close to Seraphina's neck. It was simply far too short. At most, it was barely three inches long. Far from strangling her, it wasn't even large enough to escape the palm of her hand. The Demon King's soul, clearly not anticipating this turn of events, shrieked in bewilderment.
"W-Why?! Why is my mana so depleted... Wait, hold on. What is this world? The mana density here is abysmal!"
Only then did the Demon King's soul realize how bizarre his surroundings were. Until now, he had been buried among other artifacts, oblivious to the outside world. Since there was no human host to possess, he hadn't bothered to examine his environment. But once the realization struck, the incongruity washed over him like a tidal wave.
The mana density was incredibly thin. It wasn't a matter of chaotic currents or volatile properties; there was simply a sheer, absolute lack of mana in the atmosphere. Even the forbidden zones of the Continent would be considered paradise compared to this barren wasteland. Panic-stricken, the Demon King's soul hastily extended his sensory perception, trying to figure out where on the Continent such a dreadful place could possibly exist.
Yet, as he scanned his surroundings, his bewilderment only intensified. The room was filled with objects he had never seen in his life. Furniture and structures built entirely without the aid of magic. Humans devoid of mana circuits, and the faint, lingering traces of monsters. Finally, a single, terrifying possibility dawned on the Demon King.
A place devoid of mana. The birthplace of monsters. A realm shunned even by the demons and Demon Kings of the Continent. The world beyond the Gate. A demonic wasteland. That would explain everything.
"Then, what I saw just now..."
A sudden chill ran down the Demon King's spine. He didn't even possess a spine, let alone a physical body, yet a phantom pain struck his mind with absolute clarity. But even that was not the end of his troubles. He had forcibly trespassed upon a god's sanctuary in a place devoid of the System of Order. The vast reserves of mana he had accumulated over centuries of passing through the hands of various black mages were now almost entirely depleted. Such a rapid drain of mana would have caused excruciating pain and migraines even to a living being with a physical vessel.
For the Demon King, however, the consequences were far more dire. As a spiritual entity sealed within a ring, he required vast amounts of mana to exert any influence on the world, using the will infused in that mana to sustain his very existence. In other words, if his mana ran dry, his consciousness would fade. His soul would face absolute annihilation, rendering his title of Demon King utterly meaningless.
Under normal circumstances, he would have overcome this crisis by absorbing ambient mana from the atmosphere, but in this dreadful world, even that was impossible. Faced with an unexpected, imminent demise, the soul of the Demon King shrieked in terror.
"Aaaargh! Hey! Girl! Quickly, offer your mana to me this instant!"
He cried out, hastily retracting his materialized hand to conserve what little energy remained. His voice was thick with the dread of death. A Demon King who had ruled supreme his entire life, he had never known fear—not even when he was defeated by the heroes and sealed within this ring. Yet, upon witnessing a true monster that looked down on him as if he were a mere insect, he had awakened to a brand-new emotion. He now knew that the suffocating sensation squeezing his heart was not excitement. Had he remained ignorant, perhaps he could have ignored it, but now that he recognized it, denial was impossible.
The Demon King's soul pleaded desperately.
"D-Didn't you say you were going to sell me to buy rice?! If I disappear, your plans will be ruined too!"
It was no longer a threat or a bluff. It was a pathetic, distorted plea. Though he had not literally fallen to his knees, it was, for all intents and purposes, a declaration of surrender. A Demon King begging for his life, casting aside every shred of his pride. Yet, as Seraphina looked down at him, her expression remained cold and unyielding.
The Saintess replied coldly.
"No, it doesn't matter. The moment you insulted my God, I lost all intention of selling you."
Seraphina remembered with absolute clarity what that arrogant soul had said. It had mocked her, asking if she was offering her body to some weakling who called himself a star. It had boasted that it would prove just how powerless her false idol truly was. It had spewed blasphemous words with its ignorant mouth. In that very moment, Seraphina's heart had hardened. She had sworn to herself that she would never grant this spirit what it desired.
She already had more than enough valuables to sell. Even if they weren't worth as much as the ring, they would yield more than enough money to buy rice. She would rather seal this ring away for eternity. On the Continent, it might have been able to scheme by drawing in ambient mana, but in this other world, even that was impossible. If she simply dug a hole and buried it, no one would ever find it.
Seraphina looked at the ring as if staring at a criminal awaiting execution. Glaring at the ring in her palm as if it were filthy sewage, she rose from her seat. She intended to walk right out of the church and bury it deep in the earth, leaving it to rot in absolute solitude, unknown to anyone.
I hope you repent your sins until the very moment you fade away. I hope you realize just how grave a transgression you committed.
Her grip was mercilessly rough on the tiny ring. The Demon King's soul felt the sheer contempt radiating from her. Instinct told him that things had gone horribly wrong. At this rate, he would truly die. And it wouldn't even be a glorious death. He would be buried in the dirt of an alien world, meeting a pathetic end alongside common insects.
Only then did the Demon King recognize his true position. He realized that the leverage he had taken for granted—the initiative he assumed he held because of his immense power—had completely slipped through his fingers. The words he needed to say now came to him naturally.
The Demon King's soul cried out desperately.
"I-I can help you!"
The tone of his telepathic voice shifted entirely. If before he had masked his subservience beneath a veneer of pride, he now laid bare his raw, unadulterated terror and desperation. Sensing this, Seraphina paused. She stared down at the ring, silently prompting him to speak. Under her judging gaze, the Demon King lamented his fate for a brief moment before eagerly babbling about his usefulness.
"I am Jechen! I shall bestow my great authorities upon you!"
The Demon King's cry sounded pitiful, almost pathetic. Yet, Seraphina felt a jolt of surprise deep within her. She recognized the name the ring had just uttered.
Palameides, the **Jechen**. A legendary beastman Demon King, he was a monster who had slain a Constellation back when he was still a mortal. Even after falling to corruption and becoming a Demon King, he had declared war on the Order of Order, claiming the lives of countless Cardinals. The number of Constellations he had utterly annihilated during that war totaled twelve, leaving a sudden, massive void in the heavens... Thus, he was given the title Jechen, meaning "the one who clears the heavens." In the history books of her convent, he was recorded as one of the most violent and powerful Demon Kings to have ever existed.
I heard that eight heroes banded together to defeat him. To think he managed to survive even that...
Had it been the Seraphina of a year ago, merely hearing that name would have made her tremble with anxiety.
"Hmm. And? What exactly can you offer me?"
But the current Seraphina was different. She casually laid out her terms to the ring containing the Demon King's soul. It was all thanks to the silver gaze she felt upon her skin. Knowing that He was watching over her gave the girl an unparalleled sense of security. This very moment must also be part of the great God's design. As His servant, she had to at least chew and swallow the food He had placed in her mouth. Masterfully concealing her inner shock and lingering fear, Seraphina boldly questioned him.
"It seems you require mana. And the mana of an exceptional priestess, at that. So, explain yourself. If I provide you with mana, what can you do for me in return?"
"Kh..."
This was the absolute worst-case scenario for Jechen. She didn't flinch even after hearing his name. She possessed a terrifyingly devout fanaticism and an unimaginably colossal backer. He couldn't tempt her. He couldn't possess her, nor could he corrupt her. Every single path of action was completely blocked. In the end, there was only one thing the Demon King's soul could do. In a raspy, desperate voice, he began to pitch his abilities as passionately as a job seeker in an interview.
"I-I am the master of a body of steel and eyes that pierce all truths! I am a genius of cloning and shapeshifting...!"
He rattled off his abilities with feverish intensity. Seraphina nodded occasionally, committing his words to memory. Refusing to speak politely to a mere girl was the very last shred of pride Jechen managed to cling to.