The Birth of the First Queen

If not that, then the only method left was, in the end—

…Breeding.

Breeding, after all. That was it.

The Demon Blood Species laid their eggs inside the bodies of whatever they consumed. So did that mean he would have to hunt demons and have the eggs planted inside them? The problem was that doing so risked exposing his location to Isera.

That was when it began.

"O King! Grant us leave to create a Queen!"

"Bestow more of your blood upon us, for the sake of the Queen!"

"With the corpse of Lord Solbaren—a stronger Blood Clan!!"

From within the shadows, the Demon Blood Species began to murmur and stir.

"What in the world is this disgrace?!"

Marquis Weiser was livid. In the end, the uproar had scuttled the wedding entirely. And still he could not make sense of it.

"A Hydragon appearing on the estate out of nowhere! Does that not strike you as strange no matter how you look at it? And where on earth has Hudson gone off to…!"

"Father."

"Serengeti. Tell me. Where has Hudson vanished to?"

No matter how he turned it over, the situation was anything but normal. When Marquis Weiser put the question to her so bluntly, Serengeti only shook her head. Both Randolph and Hudson had disappeared without warning.

"…He said he had business at the trading company for a short while."

"The trading company? Something more important than his own wedding? He ought at least to greet the relatives!"

Every last relation had been scraped together and summoned for a grand ceremony. There had been an unfortunate incident, true—but the wedding itself could simply be postponed a few days. In the meantime, the bridegroom Hudson should at least have been making the acquaintance of the family.

"He is attending to an important matter together with Lord Randolph."

"…Lord Randolph? Even so—on a day this important…!"

"Please do not be angry. I shall stand in his place."

When Serengeti spoke with such gravity, Marquis Weiser drew a long breath.

"…How long must we put off the ceremony? We cannot keep busy people hanging indefinitely."

"The ceremony… may be held later. That is fine."

"You don't want it held as soon as possible?"

"Yes."

Serengeti nodded slowly. Watching her, Marquis Weiser could only feel bewildered. Had she not been the one who wanted the ceremony performed a day sooner rather than later? Serengeti, who had prepared everything with lightning speed, had abruptly changed her attitude—all over the appearance of a single Hydragon.

…That Hydragon belongs to Lord Randolph.

Because Serengeti knew. She knew that the strangely formed Hydragon was Randolph's pet. There had to be a reason Randolph had stepped in and disrupted the ceremony so suddenly. And that reason was probably…

—I'm a sinner.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

All at once, the words Hudson had spoken when he came to find her began to replay, over and over, in Serengeti's mind.

Union, the Mage of the Golden Rule.

The place he reached after opening a warp was a small, nameless island.

"Inventory. Moving Castle."

A deep rumble answered him. In an instant, an entire castle rose upon the island. He entered it, settled onto the throne, and let out a long sigh.

"…Exhausting."

Was it the fatigue of crossing dimensions? He needed to rest a little first, at least.

But in that very moment—

A high, keening whine cut the air.

"…A warp?"

Someone had opened a warp right in front of him. Who would dare? And how had they even known where he was?

His brow furrowed as he opened his inventory, fully intending to turn whoever appeared into a pincushion the instant they showed themselves.

"Guh…!"

But the moment he saw what stepped through, Union could only stare in shock. And no wonder.

"…Th-that—an Orthodox?!"

—Kakakaka!

For a moment he wondered if his eyes had deceived him. Union's eyes went round.

An Orthodox—on Earth?

He had not been this rattled in a very long time. And yet the coordinates of this place were unmistakably Earth. There was no reason an Orthodox should exist on Earth rather than in Pangenia.

And one I've never seen before, at that.

That this was Earth was certain. That the being which had ridden a warp into existence before his eyes was an Orthodox was equally certain. And still he could not understand it.

Union, the Mage of the Golden Rule. He had been a court mage who helped found the fledgling Arhon Empire. He knew full well that the Orthodox eggs the first Emperor had brought down from the Heavenly Realm were deeply bound up with the founding of the Death God Religion. Naturally, he was thoroughly familiar with the appearance and abilities of every Orthodox—and with the Elevens who commanded them.

—Kakakakaka!

…And yet.

A twelfth Orthodox?

Impossible. The first Emperor had brought only eleven Orthodox eggs. Afterward the Emperor had fallen into a deep sleep; every Orthodox had hatched, and together with the Elevens they had become the deep roots that propped up the Death God Religion. That was the sum of everything Union knew.

And now a twelfth Orthodox existed.

An egg the Emperor failed to bring from Heaven.

…It was possible, if the eggs the Emperor brought had not been the full set. No—by Union's judgment, the Emperor had not managed to bring every egg. An Emperor cast out of Heaven could hardly have carried everything with him.

Suddenly a phrase the Emperor had been in the habit of repeating at the time rose to mind.

—A pity. I stood on the threshold of completing the Truth, yet I failed to bring the final piece.

Union had never known what that piece was. But if it had been the last Orthodox egg?

…If I became the master of the final Orthodox.

Union's body trembled. No other mage had conducted research on the Orthodox to the degree he had. The advantages an Orthodox conferred upon its contractor were beyond counting. One of them was agelessness alone—so how extraordinary must the rest be? In truth, the masters of the Orthodox, the Elevens, had lived eternal lives in unaging bodies ever since the eggs hatched.

Agelessness, the summoning of Death Gods—those are secondary. Measured against an Orthodox's true worth, the two amount to nothing.

Summoning a Death God to seize a target's life and soul was merely one ability among many. An Orthodox's true value lay elsewhere.

Namely—

The evolution of traits.

An Orthodox possessed the power to evolve its contractor's traits. As an Orthodox's level rose and it grew, the range of traits it could evolve broadened, and the limits of those traits ran wild. That capacity to shatter limits surpassed even what one gained by consuming a Star and transcending. Thus the masters of the Death God Religion—the Elevens—wielded power that had left humanity behind.

But each Orthodox evolved different kinds of traits. Of the Elevens who understood this and focused their growth accordingly, Union could count them on one hand.

—Kakakaka!

"…A most boisterous Orthodox, I see."

A smile deepened at the corners of Union's mouth. That laugh. Orthodoxes repeated a distinctive sound, and their capabilities differed greatly according to the nature of that laughter. The one before him was producing a bold, outward-facing sound. An Orthodox that projected rather than contained its voice tended toward the all-purpose type. And among the Elevens, there was none that laughed with such hearty abandon.

It read a warp, rode it, and crossed over. And on top of that—all-purpose.

He wanted it. Desperately.

Had it already formed a contract? Then why had it appeared before him alone? If it were contracted, it should have arrived with its contractor. No sane contractor would send an Orthodox out by itself. Contractors and Orthodoxes could not be separated by any great distance to begin with—the contractor had to summon the Orthodox personally. An Orthodox could not simply summon itself and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠interfere with the world at will.

Or… is it a stray that has lost its master?

Ah. Now he understood. This Orthodox had lost its contractor. If a contractor died while the Orthodox was still summoned, the Orthodox would wander the world for a time. In the course of that wandering it must have read Union's trail and followed it here. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It might even have been drawn to Union's power.

"Are you offering to take me as your new contractor?"

—Kakaka?

"…Very well. Let us go together."

Union smiled deeply. Once every trace of the previous contractor had faded, a new contract could be formed. Until then he would have to build as much affinity as possible—but still.

Lucky.

To think the final Orthodox would fall into his hands. And on Earth, of all places—somewhere he had never expected. A windfall if ever there was one.

"O King! Grant us leave to create a Queen!"

"Bestow more of your blood upon us, for the sake of the Queen!"

"With the corpse of Lord Solbaren—a stronger Blood Clan!!"

From within the shadows, the Demon Blood Species began to clamor—from the very moment I decided I needed to increase their numbers.

A Queen from Lord Solbaren's corpse?

Come to think of it, right after the raid on Lord Solbaren, his body had vanished into my shadow. The Demon Blood Species had claimed it themselves.

A Queen of the Demon Blood Species…

I thought of the Desert Queen. Ruler of the desert city—she had been a Queen created by the Demon Blood King. The one who had tried to infect that place and summon the Demon Blood King. But even that Desert Queen did not seem to have laid eggs.

"…Proceed."

Nothing to lose. The moment I gave permission, the Demon Blood Species in the shadows began to move in a frenzy.

"The King has granted it!"

"Let us make a Queen!"

"O King! More blood!"

A violent rush of sensation.

"…Nnh."

Strength drained from my entire body in a single pull. My skin went white, then yellowed, and a crushing anemia hit me. I staggered and barely held my footing.

They're really taking just enough to keep me from dying.

The Demon Blood Species were draining my blood without restraint—leaving only precisely enough that I would not die.

"The blood is insufficient!"

"We need more blood, O King!"

"To make a Queen from Solbaren's corpse, we need greater power!"

…What?

More blood? Meaning a volume of blood commensurate with Lord Solbaren's rank. But not even an elixir could restore blood.

I slowly shook my head and drew out the Wish Orb.

One of the things I had purchased from the Golden Rule Shop. This was why a Wish Orb was essential gear for any ranker—versatility. You could only use it once a month, but in the moment of need it filled whatever you required.

Which is also why you can only hold one Wish Orb.

The maximum any person could possess was a single Wish Orb. Once used, the cooldown was a full thirty days—though that did not mean there was no way to charge it faster.

In any case, the Wish Orb had pushed my natural regeneration to its absolute peak.

"Ohh—the blood overflows once more!"

"Let us make a Queen!"

"The first Queen!"

"A great Queen!"

…And so, for thirty minutes, I became a living blood bag. In the end I could not hold out and collapsed straight onto the bed. At least the full-scale invasion had not begun yet—I supposed I should count that as fortunate.

How much more time passed after that?

Isera, who had invaded Earth, looked down upon the ground from high in the sky.

"Isera. Are you waiting for Earth's Rift Guardian?"

Who would dare speak so casually—here, of all places—to Isera, who had crossed the warp as supreme commander of the invasion force?