At the outer boundary of existence—
where infinite universes lay visible at once, pulsing softly like suspended stars.
This place was known as the Prime Continuum.
A meta-reality.
Outside all universes.
Where worlds could be observed as completed story-realities rather than lived ones.
Lilith stood before one such universe.
Universe 060.
"…I've been locked out," Lilith murmured softly.
Her voice carried no panic.
Only quiet disbelief.
"How curious," she continued, eyes half-lidded. "I transcend this universe. Entering it should be no more difficult than walking into another room."
She exhaled slowly.
Not in fear.
In focus.
Lilith steadied her thoughts, forcing the ripple of irritation down into stillness as she searched for an answer.
Once more, she reached out.
Her fingers brushed the surface of the universe—
—and were violently repelled.
A sharp recoil snapped her hand back.
『Subject: Lilith has been rejected from entering Universe 060.』
The Divine Voice echoed directly within her consciousness.
Lilith stared at her hand for a moment.
Still intact.
Still real.
For a brief instant, her gaze lowered—
as if accepting the impossibility.
Then she looked back up.
Confidence returned to her eyes.
Quiet. Absolute.
"…The Divine Voice never explains," Lilith noted internally, her thoughts precise and cold. "Only declares outcomes."
She paused.
"Then I will observe instead."
Lilith activated her skill.
"Perfect Analysis"
Information surged into her mind in a sudden flood—
structures.
Rules.
Constraints layered atop constraints.
A barrier.
Not localized.
Not selective.
It wrapped around the entire reality of Universe 060.
More than that—
It froze concepts themselves.
Entering.
Exiting.
Transition.
All halted.
All denied.
Lilith's brow furrowed slightly.
"Perfect Analysis"should have concluded instantly.
Yet it did not.
Seconds passed.
Then more.
"…Ah," Lilith murmured, tapping a single finger against her side, slow and thoughtful. "So even this skill is struggling."
Her lips curved faintly.
"Then this obstruction is… significant."
She turned her gaze fully toward Universe 060.
"This is unfortunate timing," she said softly. "They are still moving inside."
Her eyes narrowed—just a fraction.
"Even if time does not exist here," Lilith continued, voice steady, "it still advances there."
A pause.
Then—
"Still," she added quietly, almost fondly, "even without me…"
Her gaze softened.
"I trust Haruto."
Inside Universe 060, Haruto and the Royal Party members sat within the Royal Party chamber.
A circular room.
Dimly lit.
Haruto had already explained everything.
The plan.
The divisions.
The priorities.
There was nothing left to debate.
Only execution.
"We move," Haruto said.
His eyes narrowed.
The edges of his mouth curved downward—just slightly.
"Countless people are dying while we sit here."
No anger.
No theatrics.
Just fact.
They nodded.
One by one, they vanished—
disappearing in brief distortions of space.
No hesitation.
No wasted motion.
Only Ronóva remained.
As she turned to leave, Haruto reached out.
"Wait."
Her movement stopped instantly.
Not startled.
Not surprised.
Just still.
Haruto's seriousness softened—only a fraction.
Enough.
They stood alone.
Haruto stepped forward and pulled her into him.
Firm.
Close.
His arms wrapped around her narrow waist.
His face buried against her neck.
For a moment—
Silence.
Ronóva's eyes widened slightly.
A faint pink flushed across her cheeks as she hesitated…
then slowly wrapped her arms around him in return.
From Haruto's perspective—
His perception sharpened.
Beyond sight.
Beyond sound.
A presence.
Small.
New.
Growing.
A life.
Ronóva was pregnant.
A semi-spiritual life-form could conceive.
Haruto, as a fully spiritual existence, normally could not—
Unless he allowed it.
And he had.
A soft smile touched his lips.
She didn't know yet.
That much was clear.
Haruto slowly pulled back, ending the embrace.
Before she could speak, he turned away—
lifting one hand to cover his eyes.
"Haruto…?" Ronóva asked softly.
Concern slipped through her otherwise calm voice.
"What's wrong, darling?"
"…I'm just overwhelmed," Haruto said.
His voice wavered.
Barely.
"I think I might cry."
Ronóva froze.
Shock flickered across her face as she stepped closer, hands resting against his back.
"P-Please don't cry," she said quietly.
Her voice was gentle.
Innocent.
Yet heavy with emotion.
"This isn't the time to be happy," she added, hesitation threading her words. "But… if something could move you like this—"
She tightened her grip slightly.
"Tell me after this is over."
Haruto nodded.
Once.
He wiped his eyes with his forearm, then turned to face her again.
A soft smile greeted her.
No explanation.
Not yet.
He lifted his hand, gesturing for her to go.
Ronóva smiled in response.
A small tilt of her head.
Her bangs slipped to the side with the motion.
"…Alright," she said.
"I'll see you later."
Her form dissolved into a blur.
Gone.
Haruto's fist tightened at his side.
The knuckles went white.
The room didn't react—but the space around him subtly bent.
"I must win," Haruto said quietly.
He sat back down in the chair at the head of the table.
Alone.
"There is no future where I don't."
The words weren't defiance.
They were calculation.
Haruto's eyes widened a fraction as a link brushed against his consciousness.
"Through Communication".
He accepted instantly.
"Apologies for my sudden presence, my Lord," Vhalzareth said from the other end.
Haruto didn't shift.
Didn't lean forward.
"Don't concern yourself with that," Haruto replied calmly.
"State your reason."
A brief pause.
"Oh—right," Vhalzareth said. "I wanted to ask if I should return to your side. You're entering a war."
"No," Haruto said immediately.
Flat.
Final.
"Remain where you were appointed."
Vhalzareth already knew the answer.
Still, the fear lingered.
Not of death.
Of failure.
"Understood," Vhalzareth said. Then, carefully, "What am I to do if something happens?"
Haruto's gaze lowered.
Cold.
Focused.
"The plan doesn't change," he said. "If something happens to me—kill every living being there."
No pause.
"I have zero doubt they will move on my nations the moment I'm gone."
Silence followed.
Then—
"And the women and children, my Lord?" Vhalzareth asked.
Casual.
Respectful.
Asking only to confirm.
"Kill them too," Haruto said.
No hesitation entered his voice.
No distortion.
No emotional spike.
"Understood, my Lord," Vhalzareth replied.
There was no denial.
Why would there be?
He was a demon.
The "Through Communication"collapsed.
The presence vanished.
Haruto leaned back into the chair and exhaled slowly.
A deep sigh.
Heavy.
"Hah…" he murmured.
His eyes drifted to the ceiling.
"I guess that saying really is true."
His fingers loosened at his side.
"The more you fight monsters…"
A faint, bitter curve touched his lips.
"…the more you become the thing you swore to destroy."
The room stayed silent.
It didn't judge him.
It already knew.
On a distant planet beneath a green-tinted sky, a pale stone surface stretched endlessly across the world.
No oceans.
No forests.
Only land.
A stone village sat carved into the surface.
There was no wind.
Humanoid alien figures ran through the streets in blind panic, pain carved into their faces, terror flooding their black, pupil-less eyes.
Green skin.
Slightly sharpened tails.
That was all that separated them from humans.
White flame swallowed the village.
Not fire.
Judgment.
The flame didn't burn—it erased.
A mother clutched her infant to her chest as the light reached them.
Her scream shattered into nothing.
Both bodies dissolved into ash, spiraling upward like smoke pulled toward the sky.
No one stopped.
Their own kind fled past them, eyes empty, minds broken—only to meet the same fate moments later.
The streets vanished.
The houses followed.
Above it all—
A man stood suspended in the green sky.
Silver-white hair framed his pale, androgynous face, soft strands falling around calm violet eyes unnaturally deep and empty. His tall, slender form was draped in a long black cloak lined with violet, unmoving despite the chaos below.
No expression touched his face.
No hesitation.
—Viro.
Behind him stood a towering angelic figure clad in white-and-gold armor, perfectly still. Vast feathered wings beat slowly, methodically. A faint halo hovered above their helm, restrained—controlled.
Around them—
Hundreds of thousands.
Angelic soldiers filled the sky, each wielding a different weapon of light: spears, blades, chains, bows—divine instruments shaped for slaughter.
Viro looked down upon the surviving aliens.
His gaze was cold.
"Go," he said calmly, extending one finger toward the planet.
"Soldiers of God—purify the evil of this world."
They descended.
The moment their feet touched stone, the killing began.
No mercy.
No delay.
Light weapons carved through bodies.
Blood splattered across pale roads and shattered homes.
One angel seized an alien by the skull and tore its head free, green blood bursting upward.
Another crushed a fleeing body beneath its heel, bone and flesh reduced to paste.
Screams layered atop screams.
Then—
The angels froze.
Weapons paused mid-strike.
Every head turned upward.
The sky ruptured.
A red, thunderous spiral portal tore open above the planet, expanding rapidly until it covered the entire planet —violent, unstable, alive.
Lightning crawled along its edges.
Viro descended slowly, boots touching stone without sound, his gaze never leaving the roiling red portal above.
The sky groaned.
Gravity twisted.
Then—
Chatzkel stepped out of the portal.
The moment his foot touched the planet, the air collapsed inward.
Pressure slammed down.
Gravity rewrote itself around his presence alone.
The ground fractured in a wide circle.
Behind him, one by one, the Beastmen emerged.
Monstrous physiques.
Towering frames.
Long, wild hair spilling down their backs—each a different color.
Every single one of them wore the same expression.
A sharp, predatory smile.
Absolute confidence.
They didn't scan the battlefield.
They didn't hesitate.
They already knew the outcome.
"Hahaha—look at this mess."
A man with long, messy green hair cracked his neck, eyes burning with rage.
"Who the fuck do they think they are, showing up here and slaughtering people?"
—Noah.
"Yes!"
A tall man with long blue hair and glowing green eyes clenched his fists, veins pulsing.
"Marching into our universe and killing living beings like it's nothing?"
—Bright.
"They'll pay a thousandfold."
Chatzkel's grin widened, sharp enough to cut.
"Waste no time," he said quietly, fist tightening.
"Kill these white pieces of shit."
The Beastmen launched forward.
Not soldiers.
Predators.
They tore into the angelic ranks like a living storm—claws ripping through armor, raw force shattering wings, coordinated strikes dismantling formations in seconds.
The battlefield flipped.
Bright, Noah, and Chatzkel floated down, stopping a short distance from Viro.
Two figures stood at Viro's side.
Twins.
Short, sharply cut hair.
Identical faces.
Only their eyes differed—one red, one blue.
The red-eyed twin leaned forward slightly, hands tucked casually into his pockets, dressed in gold-and-white attire. A smug grin curved his lips.
"Fufufu~ and who are you guys supposed to be?" he asked arrogantly.
—Divine.
The blue-eyed twin folded his arms, gaze cold and dismissive.
"This is the strongest force this universe can offer?" he said flatly.
—Light.
"…I'm disappointed."
Behind them, the tide turned fully.
Angelic soldiers were being overwhelmed—not by raw numbers alone, but by ruthless teamwork.
Pinned.
Flanked.
Executed.
Light weapons shattered.
Halos cracked.
Wings fell from the sky like broken banners.
Bright looked down at Light, his massive shadow swallowing him whole.
His head tilted slightly.
A lazy, amused grin spread across his face.
"What's with this kid?" Bright said mockingly.
"You should be sucking on your mother's tits instead of standing here."
Light froze.
His eyes widened.
One foot stepped back without him realizing it.
Shock.
Disbelief.
An inferior being—speaking to him like that?
Viro's violet eyes narrowed, disgust flickering across his otherwise calm face.
"Your words stain the air," Viro said coldly.
"Uninnocent creatures like you should be purified by death."
"Ohhh…"
Noah dragged the sound out, lips twisting to the side.
"That word again."
"Innocent?" Chatzkel echoed, tilting his head.
A slow, amused exhale left him.
"What bullshit."
"No one's innocent as long as they're alive."
His eyes sharpened.
"And you—what makes you think you are?"
"Of course I am," Viro replied without hesitation.
Confidence absolute.
"In all my existence, I have never committed a sin."
"Keh… keh…"
Chatzkel's shoulders shook.
Then he laughed.
Deep.
Rough.
Mocking.
"Hahaha—don't act so naïve," Chatzkel said.
"If you were truly innocent, a God wouldn't have sent…"
His grin widened.
"…me."
A flash—
Viro's fist crossed the distance at light speed.
Instant.
Precise.
Lethal.
It stopped.
Chatzkel had caught it with one hand.
No strain.
No shift in posture.
Expression unchanged.
The shockwave cracked the stone beneath their feet, spiderwebbing outward.
Viro's eyes widened—just a fraction.
(He perceived it…)
Viro realized, tension creeping into his thoughts.
(A light-speed strike—blocked.)
Chatzkel leaned in slightly, grip tightening around Viro's fist.
That alone was the signal.
Noah and Bright moved first—
two flashes of light tearing through the air.
Divine and Light reacted instantly, vanishing as well.
Viro was left behind.
Alone.
With Chatzkel.
Noah and Divine crashed through a colossal stone mountain.
The impact folded the rock inward like paper.
The mountain caved.
They burst out the other side in a storm of debris, stone vaporizing around them.
Elsewhere—
Light hurled a cryo-black sphere toward Bright.
Faces screamed inside it.
Warped.
Frozen mid-agony.
The attack moved at light-speed.
Bright shifted sideways.
Not fear.
Instinct.
The sphere screamed past him, distorting space as it went.
(The Angel of God numbers are dropping too fast…)
Divine calculated even as he flew backward.
(I need a solution—now.)
Bright was still far from Light.
Too far.
It didn't matter.
Mid-air, Bright twisted and threw a spinning kick.
The shockwave screamed forward—
compressed.
Weaponized.
Light barely raised his forearm in time.
The impact hit.
A violent gust tore past him.
His mouth parted slightly.
Shock.
A clean slash opened across his arm.
Golden blood spilled.
One drop fell—
Then stopped.
Reversed.
The drop rose back into the wound.
The cut sealed itself like it never existed.
Bright landed lightly, lowering his leg.
"Huh," he muttered.
"That wasn't just resistance."
Light lowered his arms slowly.
"So you noticed," Light said calmly.
Bright glanced aside, unimpressed.
"Hard not to."
Light smiled.
"My wound didn't heal," he continued.
"Time was reset—to a point where my existence was never harmed."
Bright's eyes narrowed.
So that was it.
Any attack.
Any damage.
His existence rewound to a state before impact.
Death included.
This wasn't regeneration.
This was denial.
"This isn't an ability," Light said, spreading his arms wide, delight creeping into his voice.
"It's part of what I am."
(So… an intrinsic law.)
Bright thought calmly.
(Same category as our intrinsic skills. Different flavor.)
Below—
Viro and Chatzkel were already deep in combat.
Viro's fist screamed forward, wrapped in cryo-black flame—
the same substance Light had used earlier.
Chatzkel leaned aside.
The punch passed close enough to shear the air, but never touched him.
Again.
And again.
Viro's attacks were relentless.
Perfect form.
Light-speed execution.
Yet Chatzkel evaded each one with minimal movement, as if he already knew where the blows would land.
(This is troublesome…)
Chatzkel thought.
(We lack information on their power system.)
A voice answered.
Calm.
Familiar.
(That's right. I'm honestly surprised you didn't rush in like a beast without thinking.)
Chatzkel's eyes widened—just a fraction.
(H… Haruto?)
Shock rippled through him.
(How am I hearing you?)
(Later.)
Haruto's voice cut in smoothly.
(I'm here to handle your problem.)
Chatzkel immediately pushed his questions aside.
(Then you already understand their system.)
he asked.
(Don't you?)
(Correct.)
Haruto replied.
(Everything. Enough for you to counter every move they can make. I'm sending you the roadmap.)
The transfer hit instantly.
Information flooded Chatzkel's mind.
Not raw data—
structure.
Logic.
Cause and effect.
The core became obvious.
Hope-based.
Their strength did not originate from mana, divinity, or authority.
It was belief.
Expectation.
The faith of others shaping outcomes.
Chatzkel smiled.
Slow.
Predatory.
Possibilities branched endlessly in his mind.
He understood it now.
But Haruto wasn't finished.
Another imprint embedded itself into Chatzkel's existence—
Extra Skill: "Information Transfer"
Chatzkel didn't need an explanation.
He understood immediately.
Without hesitation—
The data spread.
Noah.
Bright.
Every Beastmen soldier.
In an instant, all of them grasped the Hope-Based Power System.
Its strengths.
Its limits.
Its fatal flaw.
"This is…"
Noah murmured softly, eyes widening.
Hope is beautiful.
That is why it breaks so cleanly.Edited. Continued.
Clarity sharpened. Stakes raised. Haruto's hand revealed—quietly, efficiently.
---
Below—
Viro and Chatzkel were already deep in combat.
Viro's fist screamed forward, wrapped in cryo-black flame—
the same substance Light had used earlier.
Chatzkel leaned aside.
The punch passed close enough to shear the air, but never touched him.
Again.
And again.
Viro's attacks were relentless.
Perfect form.
Light-speed execution.
Yet Chatzkel evaded each one with minimal movement, as if he already knew where the blows would land.
(This is troublesome…)
Chatzkel thought.
(We lack information on their power system.)
A voice answered.
Calm.
Familiar.
(That's right. I'm honestly surprised you didn't rush in like a beast without thinking.)
Chatzkel's eyes widened—just a fraction.
(H… Haruto?)
Shock rippled through him.
(How am I hearing you?)
(Later.)
Haruto's voice cut in smoothly.
(I'm here to handle your problem.)
Chatzkel immediately pushed his questions aside.
(Then you already understand their system.)
he asked.
(Don't you?)
(Correct.)
Haruto replied.
(Everything. Enough for you to counter every move they can make. I'm sending you the roadmap.)
The transfer hit instantly.
Information flooded Chatzkel's mind.
Not raw data—
structure.
Logic.
Cause and effect.
The core became obvious.
Hope-based.
Their strength did not originate from mana, divinity, or authority.
It was belief.
Expectation.
The faith of others shaping outcomes.
Chatzkel smiled.
Slow.
Predatory.
Possibilities branched endlessly in his mind.
He understood it now.
But Haruto wasn't finished.
Another imprint embedded itself into Chatzkel's existence—
Extra Skill: "Information Transfer"
Chatzkel didn't need an explanation.
He understood immediately.
Without hesitation—
The data spread.
Noah.
Bright.
Every Beastmen soldier.
In an instant, all of them grasped the Hope-Based Power System.
Its strengths.
Its limits.
Its fatal flaw.
"This is…"
Noah murmured softly, eyes widening.
Bright's sharp grin widened further.
"So that's how they stand so tall," he said.
"Good."
Chatzkel cracked his knuckles.
"Now," he said quietly, eyes locking back onto Viro,
"let's take their hope away."