Liar

If only we had realized our mistake, the answer would have been easily obtained.

I intuitively felt that he was not the King. At least, he wasn't the man we knew. It would be meaningless for him to pick us up when he had no rights in his lifetime. There was no need to start over. There was no such necessity. He had enough power to create anew. That's why we ended up thinking that if he was that man, we could save all tragedies.

He is not the man who used to be the King, and that is humiliating. It's not because he has no abilities as a king except for the ring. I couldn't imagine that he would once again relinquish his freedom. I thought he would never give up the rights he had obtained as a human. Even if that were the case, he wouldn't use us in this manner. It was very unpleasant, but I understood it to be so.

If that's the case, the answer was easily obtained.

Either it's Solomon in this world, or it's ****. If it's the former, it's still acceptable. It doesn't mean forgiveness. However, I can accept it. But if it's the latter, it's the worst.

—I won't forgive you.

I won't forgive you. I won't forgive you. I won't forgive you. I won't forgive you. No matter what happens, I won't forgive you. I won't obey your will. I will go against your intentions. We are the seventy-two pillars of Solomon. I swear by this name that I will shatter your ideology.

But the real issue is not there.

The problem is how much of everything we have done was according to the mastermind's expectations.

Burning the Holy Bible? Altering history? Integrating with the deterrent force—was that truly our plan? I estimated that it was executable, but is this the correct result of our calculations? How much impact did the summoning of Heroic Spirits have? Are we unknowingly influencing the Heroic Spirits? What was the true intention behind resurrecting the Evil Dragons? How many oversights and failures do we have? How can we make amends? Can we even recognize our mistakes as mistakes? Is the Lion King involved in this? What does that goddess truly comprehend? Does Kingu realize it? Does that mud doll have the same malfunctions as us? Do the deities other than the Holy Bible know about this situation?

No, that's not the problem at all. Something more fundamental is wavering.

Is our determination not to forgive these abominations a counterfeit? Is our anger towards the devils that defile our name, our lament for the fact that even angels have used humans, and our sorrow for the unjust fallen angels' quest for Divine Artifacts all unjust? Were these implanted by someone?

Is even the desire to help this someone a falsehood? Was it someone's machination that we helped a girl betrayed by her faith, that we restored a human who turned into a demon, and that we gave companions to a lonely boy due to the Divine Artifact?

Is even the relief of having been able to help this someone a mistake?

The gratitude expressed to us in this world several times with the words "Thank you." Even the confusion and joy towards those words, were they not originated from within us?

Should we not have tried to save people?

***

The Rating Game organized by the young devils of the Underworld. It was a VIP seat specially created for enjoying the game. The dignitaries from various mythologies, who would never meet under normal circumstances, were gathered here.

Amidst this, Azazel stood before a certain gods. He had intended to say a few more words regarding the incident the other day. However, his plans changed. He had expected the person in question to provoke him upon seeing him, but there was no reaction when they stood face to face.

The person in question, the Martial Gods Emperor Shakra or the Heavenly Emperor Indra, let out a deep, deep sigh. After finishing the sigh, he finally noticed Azazel. It seemed that he truly hadn't noticed rather than pretending not to, as his eyes slightly widened in surprise.

"...Yo, Azazel."

"Indra, what's the matter?"

The Heavenly Emperor, with a somewhat languid atmosphere, spoke without his usual pseudo-American manner of speaking. He seemed tired in some way, scratching his head while muttering.

"I met an acquaintance... An acquaintance? I didn't want to meet that guy. Somehow, even though his appearance is different, I can instantly tell that it's 'him.' It reminded me of something unpleasant."

"Hm? Was it in the reincarnation of your son?"

Indra had multiple sons, but among them, there was a half-god, half-human figure named Arjuna, who had the highest fame. He was known as the Hero of Charity, a truly chosen individual who lived a life destined for greatness. However, there was a discord between Indra and Arjuna due to a certain incident. It was because Indra had given unnecessary assistance in a duel between Arjuna and another great hero, thereby interfering. While it was not solely Indra's responsibility, as many other gods, Buddhas, and humans had also provided "unnecessary assistance," he bore a portion of the blame.

"If only it had been like that... Well, it's almost the same thing. Just forget about it."

"Uh, sure."

Azazel should have asked a little more deeply, but he lost the urge to do so upon seeing the martial god before him. To be frank, it was unsettling. To put it nicely, it was unsightly. Even though he was a bald middle-aged man with a melancholic expression, it was just unbalanced.

"It's a rare combination, huh... What's wrong, Emperor Shakra? You don't look well."

The one who called out was Odin, the chief god of Norse mythology. Rossweisse, his attendant, was by his side.

"Don't talk to me, old man of the North."

While Odin's curiosity was piqued, the person before him was the martial god. Do not touch the gods, or they will retaliate. It would be fine if things remained this way, but if he delved too deep with his questions and caused him to go on a rampage, it would be troublesome. Despite his position, Indra was that kind of gods. A gods and a satan. Odin couldn't speak ill of other gods either, but Indra had a high potential as a "tyrant."

"Well then, let's not ask too much in detail. More importantly, Indra, I heard that you've been focusing on training warriors. Could you introduce a good hero to Rossweisse?"

"W-What are you saying, Lord Odin!"

"What's the matter? You shouldn't disregard your superior's concern. Even if you stay silent, men will come flocking, you know?"

"I-it's not like that! I, too, was approached just the other day!"

"Hmm, really?"

"They just asked me about my research on a paper from my student days!"

Rossweisse's face displayed a burst of emotions saying, "You got my hopes up...!" The two gods and the fallen angel drew back slightly.

"Hm? A paper from your student days? Were you researching something special?"

"Yes, it was about the number 666. The person asked if it could be used as a means to kill immortal beings... They seemed to be researching a method for killing immortal beings, and one of the means they mentioned was the use of 666."

Upon hearing that, everyone present couldn't help but laugh.

"What the hell? Isn't the cost-effectiveness of that messed up? The existence of 666 is dubious. If you're going to investigate it from that perspective, shouldn't you target Great Red or Ophis?"

"Yes, I also pointed that out, but I was given a face as if they had never even thought of such a thing..."

That was also strange. It was strange to the point of exhaustion. Odin also seemed to be stimulated by curiosity.

"So, which scholar from which mythology was it?"

"Well, I'm certain... Wait? I should have heard their name..."

"What? You don't remember? Have you started getting senile at your age?"

"That's rude! Please don't compare me to Lord Odin!"

"Be quiet. The game is about to begin."

"Wasn't it you who was asked a question, Lord Odin?"

"Hey, old man, don't tease her too much."

Azazel smiled wryly, but he was curious about the person mentioned by Rossweisse. It was strange for a Valkyrie, who served as a chief god's attendant, to forget the name. It was not impossible that someone had manipulated her memory. But for what purpose? Moreover, why did she forget the contents of the conversation just by forgetting the name?

(No, am I overthinking? I thought it might be the Mage's Association, but even they can't infiltrate the heart of the Underworld like this. Unless there's a traitor... But that's unlikely.)

The Rating Game between Rias Gremory and Riser Phenex began. Even before it started, the outcome was more obvious than fire.

Even if Rias Gremory's life as a "King" was at stake, even if there was the fighting spirit of the soldiers willing to fight in place of the incapacitated Issei Hyoudou, even if the "Knight" Kiba Yuuto had awakened to forbidden techniques, even if the servants included Fallen Angel executives, Evil Dragon Kings, former Satan, and struggled day and night in their training.

Rias Gremory's peerage had a decisive problem.

***

The world was created by me.

In other words, the world belongs to me.

In other words, everything that exists in the world is mine.

Even if it's not a world I created, as long as it exists in the world, it belongs to me.

Return the heavenly blessings. Abandon your wisdom. Then, I will take them. Your accomplishments should be returned to me. No, I will demand them back. Even if it was someone other than me who gave them to you, even if you created them yourself, as long as they exist, they belong to me. Everything in the world is mine.

The magical rituals, the chains of heaven, the beasts of comparison, they are all mine. If they have already been discarded, who has the obligation to inform me? No, such a thing was never necessary from the beginning. Everything belongs to me. I will pick them up. I will use them. I will make use of them.

Indeed, that man was useful. My tool. My servant. My slave. It was unpleasant that he presented the possibility of my demise, but now that it has become reality, I cannot deny it. Apart from the fact that he betrayed me in the end, he proved to be quite useful.

It doesn't matter if some goddess creates something. It doesn't matter if it lies dormant in some corner of the world. Everything belongs to me. Even if it's not something I created, since it exists in the world I created, it is nothing but what I created. Once I have created something, it belongs to me. It exists solely for my sake.

You all have a debt to repay to me. You all have an obligation to redeem yourselves to me.

You committed the sin of trying to destroy humanity—resources that exist solely for me! You must atone for it! You have an obligation of redemption to me!

Beasts created by the King of Magic. You have destroyed the world for three thousand years. Therefore, serve me. Become the cage that seals the beasts.

Abominable offspring that deceive the goddess. You have led the aberrations and tried to negate human history from its roots. It is unforgivable. Therefore, dedicate your lives to me. Once again, become the chains that bind the beasts.

Beasts that slept in the farthest tower. Your very existence is a sin. Therefore, be consumed for my sake. Accumulate power and become the sacrifice in my place.

For the sake of finally burying that detestable beast. And for the resurrection of my body that was destroyed by the Satan and the Heavenly Dragon, you must die once again.

***

This is a story from about three thousand years ago.

In the vast lake known as the Abyss of Babylon, a single ship floated. On that ship stood a man, clutching a brass jar in his arms. Is there a beast inside the jar? Occasionally, the jar would rattle and move.

And what do you know? The voice of a person seemed to be coming from within the jar. The jar was clearly too small for a person to fit in. However, distinct words with a clear intention could be heard leaking from the jar. Not just one or two. Specifically, there were overflowing with seventy-two insults, screams, and pleas.

"You scheming fool of a king!"

"Release me! Please, let me out! I won't resist anymore, so please let me out! I beg you, release me!"

"Aaahhh!"

"You wretched human, how dare you! A mere human!"

"Please forgive me! No, no, no, please forgive me!"

"Cowards who could do nothing without the divine blessings bestowed by the gods!"

"This incompetence!"

"Who do you think I am! The Four Great Satan won't stay silent! I-If you do it now, there's still time! Quickly, release us! I'll grant you a special pardon, so hurry!"

"You! After using us for such a purpose, do you think you can treat us like this?"

"Are you listening, Solomon--"

"Oops, my hand slipped."

The jar slips from the man's hand. It's clear that he dropped it on purpose!

It's a deep lake. It's impossible for mere human strength to retrieve the jar. Because it's a special location and a special jar, whether you're a magician, a demon, or a god, it's impossible to find the jar. For the jar to be opened, it must either be washed ashore or pulled up by a fisherman's net. Either way, it would be a story for the distant future.

However, for the man, it didn't matter if it was tomorrow or a thousand years later. It was enough for the gods in heaven, Satan trying to reclaim his brethren, and the fallen angels who had become unable to move to misunderstand when they witnessed this moment.

The man's lips curled into a smirk.