Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The Seat of the Demon God Is Boring
The seat of the Demon God is boring.
That boredom does not simply stop at having nothing to do.
It is not that there is nothing to do—it is that there is nothing left that can be done.
It is an entirely different concept from merely having nothing to do.
Born as the Demon God, he had long since witnessed the end of the world, watched the birth of stars, and swallowed without count, the screams of gods, the fall of kingdoms, and even the despair of heroes.
When he was first born as the Demon God, everything had been enjoyable.
Because everything was new, and everything was interesting.
The moment a hero who dared level a sword at him watched terror bleed into his eyes, the sight of a king who cried justice from atop the castle walls falling to his knees behind closed doors before his own people did, the spectacle of a god's apostle upon the altar of a sacred temple ultimately losing his god and collapsing while coughing up blood—all of it had been enjoyable.
Pleasure overflowed. Fear overflowed.
Praise, hatred, pleading, curses, and even love all overflowed.
The Demon God had always possessed everything he desired.
The problem was that he had truly come to possess everything.
Not a single crisis had ever existed for the Demon God.
Not even one.
Because he had been born a perfect being from the very start, a crisis that shook one's life simply could not exist.
"How dull."
At that single low murmur flowing from atop his burning throne, the thousands of demon folk prostrated below the throne all drew in their breath at once.
Some pressed their heads deeper into the ground, and some scratched at the floor with trembling fingertips.
Some prayed inwardly that, at least for today, they would not be chosen as the toy to soothe the Demon God's ennui.
The Demon God being bored was a disaster greater than any calamity.
A calamity, at least, was indiscriminate but still had a discernible purpose.
Rage, revenge, conquest—all were predictable to some degree.
But the Demon God's boredom was not.
He had overturned mountain ranges simply because he was bored, changed the color of the sea simply because he had nothing to do, and had even once erased a god's name from history simply because he felt like yawning.
And so countless demon folk trembled beneath the Demon God they served.
Harboring unsavory thoughts along the lines of: who would have to soothe the Demon God's listlessness today.
Yet even as time passed, no one's screams were heard.
Meaning no one had died.
At that, some of the demon folk cautiously lifted their heads and observed the Demon God's movements.
The Demon God still had his chin resting on the armrest of his throne, and he leisurely raised a single finger.
Black energy flowed from his fingertip.
The energy spread softly like mist, then pierced and gnawed through the air like a thin thread—or a venom-bearing serpent.
The serpent woven from threads that had gnawed through the air transformed into characters, the characters became circles, and the circles interlocked with one another to form a shape bizarrely resembling a constellation.
In an instant, the air changed.
The space under the Demon God's dominion warped, affected by something.
The grain of time that moved according to the Demon God grew thin.
Among the demon folk, those with deep knowledge of magic were the first to sense the anomaly.
The faces of the high-ranking demon folk who had caught even a fragment of what the Demon God was doing went pale.
No prohibition they knew of, no ancient magic they knew of, had a structure like that.
The magic glowing in the Demon God's hand was not a magic recorded anywhere or by anyone.
It was a new magic—no, a new law—that the Demon God was forging on the spot, in this very moment, to dispel his boredom.
A new law that only the Demon God could wield.
"A dimension I know nothing of."
The Demon God murmured, his voice full of interest for the first time in a very long while, the boredom having lifted.
As if responding to the Demon God's words, the outermost circle of the magic formula split open as though torn apart.
"A world I know nothing of."
The second circle inverted.
Within the inverted circle, countless stars were born and died.
The afterimages of worlds that might exist somewhere rose like bubbles and burst.
"A body I know nothing of."
The corners of the Demon God's mouth slowly curled upward.
It was a smile.
That smile was closer to the delight of a challenger's interest than the arrogance of one who already possesses everything.
It was also a smile that did not suit the Demon God in the least, who had never once been in the position of a challenger.
At the sight of the Demon God's expression—one they had never seen before in their lives—one demon folk could not hold back and raised his head.
It was an old demon folk who had served the Demon God for ages.
His horns had been worn down by the years, and his six eyes were clouded with ancient wisdom.
Even within those already thoroughly clouded eyes, a pure and vivid fear now lay settled.
"D—Demon God. I dare to ask. That magic you are forging right now—what on earth is it…."
"It is a reincarnation magic."
The Demon God answered the question without a second thought.
As casually as one might say that tonight's blood had tasted decent.
But the old demon folk asked back in shock.
Surprising as it was that the Demon God had answered so readily, what was even more surprising was the word reincarnation.
"Pardon?"
"A magic for becoming something other than myself."
The area below the throne stirred at the Demon God's continued explanation.
The explanation was far too absurd.
The Demon God is already a complete being.
A king and god who rules over the demon realm.
A calamity whose very name even gods avoid speaking.
A monster that has killed death, mocked fate, and reigned above the laws of existence.
One who has already reached the end of the world, declaring that he will become something else.
"Is it not interesting?"
The Demon God tilted his head with a bright smile, as though he had found something he himself truly did not know.
At that childlike, willful, and guileless expression—one they had never seen before in all their lives—every demon folk trembled.
Because no one knew what the Demon God in this state might do.
"A place my power cannot reach. A world I know nothing of. A body that resembles me in no way. A chance and a miracle that can only be touched by setting down everything I possess!!"
His eyes narrowed in rapture.
"Where else is there a gamble more intoxicating and extravagant than this?"
At the Demon God's words, the faces of the demon folk stiffened further.
He had called it a gamble.
If the Demon God—who tells no lies and has no reason to—said so, then he truly means it.
And he intends to carry it out himself.
Even knowing it is a reckless gamble.
The demon folk had known it in their hearts, too.
For the Demon God, his own power, his throne, his name, and the empire of fear he had built over thousands of years held no meaning to him whatsoever.
"There is no path back."
The Demon God said it as though tossing the words aside, then lightly tapped the center of the magic formula with his fingertip.
In that instant, the entire palace beat once like a heart.
"Once used, it is over. This body, this power, every contract and dominion bound to my name, everything accumulated as the Demon God—all of it is offered as tribute. Failure means complete annihilation. Even if I succeed, I will no longer be who I am now."
Even as he spoke of annihilation upon failure, the Demon God found no reason to erase his smile.
To him, who had found everything unbearably dull until now, the faint possibility that success might dispel his boredom outweighed any fear of annihilation.
It was then.
"You must not!"
The old demon folk who had served since the Demon God's birth let out a cry.
His outcry arose from loyalty as much as from fear.
The demon realm without the Demon God.
Even the mere thought of it was a horrifying chaos.
The demon folk are a species every one of whom does as they please.
What somehow kept such a species in order was the Demon God's overwhelming power and the fear it inspired.
"Please reconsider! Demon God! Why would you do something so reckless! Have you not already taken everything into your hands!"
"Indeed."
The Demon God nodded readily at the old demon folk's words.
At that, hope seemed to bloom in the old demon folk's eyes—but it faded again at the Demon God's next words.
"That is precisely why it is dull."
The old demon folk was left speechless.
There were surely many things he wished to say.
But the Demon God did not permit it.
The Demon God rose from his throne.
Energy that flowed like black silk spread from his shoulders and behind his back like wings. The overwhelming power that had once crushed countless worlds filled the palace to the brim.
The mere release of his power alone made the bones of the prostrated demon folk creak.
But the Demon God paid it no mind at all.
Rather, he wore the expression of a prisoner lightened of his burden, as though casting off a wretched prison garb.
"A reason, you say. You all want to know why I am doing this."
The Demon God considered for a moment.
He genuinely tried to find a reason.
Since it would be the last, it was something of a final courtesy to the demon folk he had grown somewhat fond of.
But he soon smiled faintly.
No matter how hard he thought, no reason came to mind that the demon folk could accept.
Because there is only one reason he intends to reincarnate.
"Because it seems like it will be fun."
Simply his own enjoyment was the whole of it.
There was no noble reason, no hidden plan, no deep despair.
It simply seemed like it would be fun.
For the Demon God who had suffered boredom through endless ages, that alone was enough.
"But Demon God!"
"Silence."
The Demon God flicked his finger.
At that, the mouth of the old demon folk who had been about to say something was forcibly shut.
Leaving him alive was not mercy.
Even the resources that would go into killing him were a waste.
The Demon God had no intention of being persuaded now, and no intention of arguing with anyone.
Because he had already decided.
Once the Demon God has taken interest in something, he does not stop—even if the world were to kneel and beg.
That is what the Demon God is.
"Once I am gone, fight over the throne as you like, tear the demon realm apart and divide it, or wander searching for me until you lose your minds—do as you please."
The Demon God smiled lightly, anticipating the chaos that would follow his departure.
"That too would have been worth watching in its own way—a shame that I will not get to see it."
In the meantime, the magic formula was completed.
A mass of energy like a black sun rose and floated above the throne.
The pillars of the palace screamed.
The sky of the demon realm cracked, and even the sea of hell deep at its bottom turned upside down.
Everything convulsed as though trying to hold the Demon God in place.
But the Demon God ignored all of it and reached out his hand.
He had been born as he pleased.
Reigned as he pleased.
And intended to disappear until the very end, as he pleased.
In a way, it was a truly befitting act for the Demon God.
"Well then, good luck."
With those words—his first and last farewell—his body began to crumble.
His horns scattered, turning to black ash.
His wings dissolved into light, like a torn night sky.
His heart was sucked into the center of the magic formula.
The contracts made in the Demon God's name were severed.
Countless beings that had been crushed under the Demon God's name were freed.
The symbols of power engraved on the Demon God's throne went out one by one.
The existence called the Demon God was offered as tribute for the sake of a single magic.
The very last moment before his existence vanished.
The Demon God drew his fingertip across the air.
And with that, a single line of words was engraved upon the wall of the palace.
Short, brazen, and irresponsible—yet for the first time, a will that was unlike the Demon God.
[Good luck.]
And the Demon God vanished.
As though he had never existed there at all.
Immediately after, the gates of the palace shattered to pieces.
High-ranking demon folk who had sensed the shockwave of power the Demon God had unleashed came rushing in, belatedly.
The legion commander clad in black armor, the prophet with six eyes, the old demon folk who had managed every secret passage of the palace, and those who had been granted a single drop of the Demon God's blood and made into nobles.
They all froze before the throne.
The throne was empty.
Not a trace of the Demon God's presence existed anywhere.
What remained was only the fading echo of the crumbling magic formula, and the short will-like message engraved upon the wall.
[Good luck.]
The faces of the demon folk were colored in all manner of ways.
Some despaired, and some raged.
And someone far in the distance murmured very quietly.
"…That madman again."
That day, the demon realm lost the Demon God.
And the Demon God, who had abandoned every one of his duties and fled through a magic called reincarnation, opened his eyes in an entirely different world.