I Want to Kill You (1)

Use any means necessary.

Trample each other to climb higher!

The appearance of a being whose philosophy stood in complete opposition to the existing tenor of the Hall of One Hundred Constellations.

And yet, no one could ignore him.

The Constellation of Purity was one who had once become the Highest Star — a being who had realized the dream every Constellation yearned for without end.

The real competition has begun.

The Constellation of the Most ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Brilliant Hero felt it at once — the shift that had taken hold among the other Constellations the moment the Constellation of Purity appeared.

They would no longer treat humans with the lukewarm indifference of before.

And through me, they will have learned it. The benefits a Constellation reaps from the growth of a chosen human far exceed anything they could have imagined.

Every Constellation coveted Author Randolph.

But at present, Randolph was subscribed to by the Constellation of the Most Brilliant Hero alone. Randolph's growth had elevated him in turn, making him ever more radiant — uniquely, overwhelmingly so among every Constellation in the Hall.

All of it was thanks to how richly Randolph's story had nourished him.

But Randolph's value had not always been this high.

A Constellation's intense interest accelerates a human's growth. So creating a second Randolph is hardly impossible… That is what they are thinking, it seems.

Most Constellations were trying to manufacture a second Randolph. They selected humans of promise, subscribed to them, and poured power into their advancement. A few even interfered with their humans directly, goading them toward growth.

Conduct utterly unlike anything the Constellations had shown before. A scant few had even entered into Apostle Contracts, making their names known — literally transforming humans into their own apostles.

This change is not entirely a bad thing. The problem is the overheated competitive structure.

It was war by another name. Some sought to kill the humans raised by other Constellations. Others tried by any means to seize and contract them. It was as though they had forgotten their own awareness as glorious beings.

But at this rate, the odds of a second Randolph emerging were vanishingly slim. Randolph had grown so steeply precisely because of the attention of every Constellation.

"Raising beings of talent. That is a Constellation's reason for existing. Randolph is excellent, but he has no further room to grow. Is it not a waste to pin everything on that single one?"

The Constellation of Purity approached and spoke, his face full of question marks — whether he was probing or sincere was impossible to tell.

"Randolph will grow stronger still."

The Constellation of the Most Brilliant Hero shook his head. The Randolph he had watched from the very beginning had never once stopped.

"Do you truly believe that? Well, he may grow stronger. But it is hard to deny that Randolph has currently reached his limit."

"…"

"Besides, with starlight like yours, would it not be more efficient to raise other humans?"

…It was not entirely wrong.

Randolph's level was nine. Blocked by experience requirements that defied imagination, further level-ups were impossible. Room to grow stronger still remained, and he was expanding his combat power through various means — but that the most critical factor, his level, had stalled was difficult to refute.

Nothing made a Constellation shine quite like the stories of levels rising or transcendence being achieved. By pure efficiency alone, then, Randolph's story was close to abysmal. The Constellation of Purity was asking whether it would not be better to spend that time raising other humans more broadly.

"…Get lost. I have nothing to discuss with the likes of you."

But the Constellation of the Most Brilliant Hero cut the conversation off at the root. He had no intention of falling for the other's seduction. The creature might be necessary to the Hall of One Hundred Constellations, but he was not necessary to him.

"Hmm. I sincerely hope your choice proves correct."

The Constellation of Purity shrugged and withdrew from his place — no doubt because he had felt the firmness of the other's will.

Honestly, there was much he was curious about. The other's methods. The being he was raising. The other's true identity. The other existences of the Hall.

But he set the interest aside. To the Constellation of the Most Brilliant Hero, the Constellation of Purity was no longer a subject of concern.

Something far more important demanded his attention.

He said Randolph has reached his limit?

…Had he seen that form — had he been watching Randolph's story — would he have dared say such a thing?

He shifted his gaze and began to focus on Randolph's story once more.

This was a more critical moment than any that had come before.

Having found the final Starlight, the Heavenly Demon tilted his head.

Even collecting them all, it doesn't reach sixty?

The Dreadful Omen that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had transferred him to the Star's Prison had possessed ATK and HP of sixty each. He had assumed that gathering every Starlight would let him reach those same numbers.

And yet, even with all of them, he was stuck at a mere forty — far short.

The eight Hidden Traits I possess. Does that mean the bastard holds even more than that?

It had been less than half a day since arriving on God's Island. Night had not yet fallen, so the hidden Starlights could not have been found. Naturally, the other should have collected only ordinary Starlights, same as him, and hit a ceiling — that ceiling being ATK 60 and HP 60. Those were the numbers displayed the moment the expedition duel began. There was no mistake.

More Hidden Traits than me…

The Heavenly Demon stroked his chin.

The Dreadful Omen. It seemed certain the bastard held more Hidden Traits than he did. But how? By raw numbers alone, it was one and a half times greater. Did that mean one and a half times as many Hidden Traits?

But did that even make sense?

A minimum of twelve Hidden Traits?

…No matter how he turned it over, it was absurd. Excluding the key, ordinary Hidden Traits capped out at twelve. Even that was only a story passed around; no one had ever held them all. Rumors of someone possessing them abounded, but he, at least, had never seen it.

And yet… this gap in ATK and HP was impossible to accept.

He must have satisfied some hidden condition.

The Heavenly Demon shook his head. In any case, this island was a place that followed the Star's Memory one carried. The point was to complete the Star's Memory quickly and defeat the other challengers.

But that was not all. There were hidden stars, hidden rules, and treasures as well. Naturally, whoever found those hidden somethings seized the advantageous high ground. The Dreadful Omen had clearly found something hidden.

"Tsk."

The Heavenly Demon clicked his tongue. He had meant to follow the ritual the Skin Hybrid of God had dug out for him, but at this rate…

When night falls, I find him.

He had been thinking about it wrong from the start. Night. By the rules, once evening came, duels could not be held. Fighting would draw the Night Spirits — but if he killed the bastard and left before the spirits arrived, what of it?

Simple enough. This suited the Heavenly Demon's temperament far ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠better.

Cheonmado is mine.

Above all, he could track Cheonmado's location in real time. Cheonmado was a weapon only the Heavenly Demon could wield. Some worthless fool had taken it up, so by now the price would be exacted in full. Nothing was easier than killing a madman who had lost his mind.

The Heavenly Demon waited quietly for night to fall.

And then—

He began to move.

Isabella approached the mouth of the cave.

Night had come at last.

Hwaaaaaah—!

Black energy rose from her entire body. It meant she had become a spirit.

Isabella slowly looked down at both her hands. They were soaked in blood — all of it her own.

"I am still… so weak."

She had been shaken by a mere delusion. She had failed to suppress a momentary surge of rage. The memory the Starlight had shown her — there was no guarantee it was even true.

This place was the Abyss, and among its depths, the deepest of all. So… it had to be a lie. A scheme meant to drive a wedge between her and Randolph. That much was certain.

"As if something like that could be true. That Lord Randolph controlled me… that he is not a being of this world…"

Isabella shook her head.

From the point where that memory began, her life had been hell. How many crises had she weathered before becoming the Snake Princess? While the Desert Queen slaughtered everyone around her, she alone had thrashed and clawed to survive until her bones broke. Not a single day had her body been whole. She had lived a life worse than a mere puppet, her own will erased — without even knowing why.

Every day had been agony and resentment.

And all of it had been because of Randolph? That Randolph was not human of this world, that even that body was merely being controlled?

…Enough. Did that even make sense?

Even granting a hundred steps, a thousand steps of concession, it was a story that simply did not hold. Randolph had always been sincere. That was not an attitude any mere controller of another body could display.

So all of this was clearly a scheme of the Abyss, meant to tear the two of them apart. Randolph was Wilhelm's successor — a fact Serengeti herself had acknowledged. Therefore… Randolph could not possibly be a being who caused Divine Illness.

Do not waver, Isabella.

That she could be shaken by such a vulgar temptation was itself proof she was still weak. Isabella shook her head hard. She must not waver any further.

How much time passed like that?

"…Why is a Night Spirit here?"

Someone appeared before the cave and tilted his head. The moment she saw him, Isabella's pupils dilated.

The Heavenly Demon!

Night Spirits could grasp a certain amount of the challengers' information in advance. The man who had appeared was the Heavenly Demon.

…This was an opportunity. A perfect chance to drop the Heavenly Demon!

Participants could not duel one another, but a Night Spirit could initiate duels even at night — with the invincible stats of ATK 500 and HP 500. If she fought him now, victory was assured.

Just as Isabella resolved herself and prepared to move—

Gooooooo—!

Thud! Thud! Rumble!

Something enormous began to approach, parting the undergrowth. At the sight of that colossal form, Isabella could not help but freeze.

The Owner of the Tomb!

An ancient golem. The golem that was a ruler of the Abyss and an Absolute had appeared alongside him, as if by prior arrangement — and with an extremely aggressive presence.

If it was not targeting the Heavenly Demon, then it was targeting Randolph. Which one was it after?

…She could not duel two of them at once. If the Tomb's golem was after Randolph, it was the worst possible situation. The moment she moved to strike the Heavenly Demon, the Owner of the Tomb would kill Randolph in that opening.

"Not moving, I see. Or are you guarding the cave?"

The Heavenly Demon smirked and continued.

"Do you intend to stay still until morning? Surely you are not prepared to face annihilation just to protect whatever is inside that cave?"

They did not know who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the Night Spirit was. But they seemed to have roughly grasped what Isabella's behavior meant.

Isabella bit her lip. As he said, if she simply stayed still until morning, both of them would die — she and Randolph both.

If the Owner of the Tomb and the Heavenly Demon fought each other, nothing could be better. But the two of them did not move from the front of the cave. They intended to target only Randolph.

Why?

They are the ones who had their most precious things taken by Lord Randolph!

The two victories Randolph had claimed must have been against these two. They had come at night to reclaim what they had lost — to kill Randolph. Meaning the Heavenly Demon and the Owner of the Tomb would never fight each other.

The moment she realized that, Isabella's heart grew frantic. No way to break this situation would come to mind. And yet she could not simply let time pass either.

What do I…

What should she do?

…In that instant—

KWAAAAAAANG!

Like a bombardment, a single enormous sword came crashing down from the sky. It exploded, aimed precisely at the Heavenly Demon.

"Cough—!"

The Heavenly Demon, settling into the dust on the ground, spat up a handful of blood from the backlash of ruptured mana. A chill ran down his spine. Had he not instinctively wrapped himself in protective energy, his entire body would have been split in two. It had pierced his defensive aura and inflicted internal injuries. Monsters of that caliber were rare even in the deeper Abyss.

The Heavenly Demon frowned and shifted his gaze skyward.

"You… who the hell are you?"

Clop. Clop.

A single horse floating in the sky, wreathed in blue flame. Upon it, a man clad in armor and helm engraved with the form of a black dragon. He looked down upon the Heavenly Demon from the heavens with the leisurely contempt of one who scorned the world itself.

Ah—!

The moment she saw him, Isabella trembled. She recognized at once who the man astride that blue-flame steed was — and just how much of a monster he was.

…He was a conqueror. A unique, unprecedented, and never-to-be-repeated ruler. A being no one could approach.

The Sunken Emperor…!