In another world, order could be found—the semi-physical world that neatly overlapped the more spiritual realms, such as the elemental and demon worlds.
This world, which never intersected with any other, was home to three major forces competing for total supremacy. One was the mystics, hatching grandiose plans to invade other worlds. One was the insectors, primarily occupied with expanding their own haven. Then there were the cryptids, wasting away their days with endless battle and destruction. Once, there was another force that had come from yet another dimension, but one of the other three had destroyed them and the dimension they came from—such was the extent of this trio's unparalleled powers.
The mystics and insectors had each built a hierarchical society with a king at the top. Those in the lower classes were nothing but pawns faithfully carrying out their orders, not even granted their own free will. The cryptids were different. Although they were semi-spiritual life-forms, they had developed in a way that brought them as close to fully spiritual as one could get. Reproduction was still a matter of offspring splitting from their parents, but most cryptids were unique individuals, spontaneously created from magicules.
Cryptids might be different in biological makeup from insectors, but their characteristics were quite similar to the insector ruling class. Unlike insectors, however, they rarely clustered together, for each individual cryptid possessed notable fighting ability. They were cunning and extremely belligerent, despite their lack of intelligence, and there was no sense of cooperation at all among them, each one motivated purely by the lure of expanding their own dominion of rule. Thus the cryptids were currently in a state of all-out civil war.
Given how each of these three forces acted, there was simply no way they
could live in harmony within the world they called home. The mystics and insectors had been fighting for well near eternity. Only when the number of cryptids ballooned to where they went fully out of control would these two bitter enemies drop arms and fight together to destroy them—a moment in history that had been repeated since time immemorial.
Because of that, these races had never rested in their search for a safer domain, their eyes scanning the universe outside their own as they planned their hypothetical invasions. That, of course, would not be easy. Even with a life span that surpassed humans' and bodies that disease or injury could never take, they had yet to achieve their long-held dream.
The first problem was that they still had no easy way to open an invasion path to other worlds. Rifts in space occurred, caused by unique catastrophes called space-time vibrations, but they happened only once a millennium and, even then, lasted only a tiny amount of time. Sending a large army through them would be quite impossible; it was all they could do to send an advance team over to build a base of operations.
There were, however, exceptions. These took the form of a "gate," a rift connecting dimensions that was fixed in place within their world, known by the populace as the Gates of Hell or the Underworld Gate. Using this gate made it a snap to escape from their world, but since it was under the control of the demon race, the Aggressors—the assorted species trying to invade other worlds —were denied access. That's why they were so keen on trying to seize control of it—but for now, everyone was in a state of détente.
But one person there wasn't happy about this balance—someone who, in fact, continually hated it. His name was Feldway, the mystic lord.
This perpetual three-way relationship made his hatred burn all the fiercer, growing into an inferno that could consume the world in time.
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Feldway could remember it all.
Veldanava created many species and races, but the task of supporting the world wasn't his alone. There were other beings willing to offer their help, and Feldway was the first to step up.
The angel race was a people without their own will, created only to aid Veldanava with his work. The highest level of existence among the angels was called the seraphim; there were seven in all, and they each had enough energy to transcend even an awakened demon lord. Upon being granted names by Veldanava, they became the so-called Seven Primordial Angels, beings equivalent to gods. The first of these seven was Feldway, who later became the founder of the mystic race. Feldway, who gained his own free will along with his name, swore his allegiance to Veldanava, leading the angels and spending many years as his personal assistant.
More and more species were born, one after the other. The mad king of the giants; the queen of the fairies overseeing the stars; the founder of the vampires, a race created to build a civilization on the planets. Slowly, they evolved from spiritual life-forms to semi-spiritual, then to purely physical flesh and blood, losing their eternal life but gaining untold diversity along the way.
Then, at long last, humanity was born, its fate interlocked with a parallel world in another dimension. They were fertile, capable of adapting to their environment; they had richly individualistic egos, along with a curiosity attuned to the mysteries of the world. Veldanava was delighted. He loved this fragile species more than any of the others. So he decided to remove any threats from the world that could prevent the humans from continuing to exist. Feldway was given the task as well, and with his own hands, he defeated a slew of would-be menaces and monsters.
But the last remaining adversary was a tricky one. It was Ivalage, the World Destroyer Dragon who would later become king of the cryptids. Nobody knew where Ivalage came from or, in fact, how it came into creation at all. Did it reach here from some dark corner of the universe or the edge of another dimension? The only thing they knew for sure was that it was disaster incarnate. It was as powerful as a True Dragon but so lacking in intelligence that communication was impossible. Because of its destructive instincts, it had the potential to destroy the entire world in time. Even Feldway himself couldn't
take it in a one-on-one battle.
So in the end, Veldanava, who couldn't bear to see this seemingly endless struggle go on, intervened and banished Ivalage to another world. He assigned Feldway to watch over it, but Feldway advised him to kill the monster before it caused any more trouble. It was too dangerous, he said. But Veldanava refused —he claimed Ivalage could gain intelligence in time.
As they waited, however, this other world was filled to the brim with Ivalage's magicules…and so the cryptids were born.
These cryptids, which were really nothing more than inferior versions of Ivalage itself, spent their days satisfying their aggressive instincts and fighting without end. They had no need for food or water and no fear of dying, as well. They were as much of a failure as any god had ever created—even Feldway, as fervent a follower of Veldanava as he was, thought of them as nothing but truly scornful creatures.
So the days went on, Feldway occasionally subduing the cryptids if they ran too amok. Then, over time, a change took place. As if to prove Veldanava right, an intelligent, sentient being emerged from the cryptids—the lord of a new, heretical following. And much to Feldway's chagrin, Veldanava rejoiced at the event, bestowing this creature with a name.
Such was the birth of Zeranus, the Insect Lord. And while he received no orders from Veldanava to do so, Zeranus began exterminating any cryptids who lost control of themselves. It was simply his fighting instincts taking hold of him, but Veldanava still approved.
Eventually, Zeranus created his own insectors who served as his personal army. Before long, they grew to where they were a full-fledged faction. Feldway himself was also transformed—having been exposed to magicules for so many years, he was no longer a seraphim, and the angels he led had also transformed into a new race.
Feldway wasn't the only member of the Seven Primordial Angels to come to this world from the heavenly realm where Veldanava lived. Three of them remained by Veldanava's side, and three others—Zarario, Obela, and Cornu— followed Feldway down, helping manage this world. Now these four angels had
undergone a mutation, evolving into a race known as mystic angels. The remaining angels transformed as well, developing their own sentience, and these became the mystics—a type of demon in human form. Thus a brand-new species was born, one wholly unchained from the conflict between demons and spirits.
Through many eons, a new relationship slowly forged itself. Feldway and Zeranus didn't see eye to eye on very much, but both still recognized each other as a useful tool in dealing with the cryptids. They had a tacit understanding not to interfere with each other, and so they built a sort of cooperative relationship.
The disappearance of Veldanava subsequently shattered this connection.
At first, everyone believed he would come back at once. But even after centuries passed, there was no sign of Veldanava's return.
Feldway wasn't sure what to think. Then the idea suddenly occurred to him. Perhaps Veldanava had abandoned them. Otherwise, there was no explaining why the supposedly immortal True Dragon hadn't come back to life. And if that was correct…
It was a hateful, lamentable fact for Feldway to process. All the humans on the planet—no, not just them. The elves, the dwarves, the beastfolk, even the demons. He hated all of them, all these races classified as demi-humans—all of humankind. He wanted to destroy them, for anyone who had taken Veldanava away from him did not deserve to live. He wanted to unify the world created by Veldanava with his own two hands—and then, he concluded, he would bring his final condemnation down upon everyone who had committed that great, deadly sin. The world so beloved by the god Veldanava would be painted in his own colors then, its diversity destroyed so he could create a world for himself to rule.
"O Veldanava, my god! If you wish to punish me, go right ahead. I would seek nothing more. So please, hurry up, or your world will cease to exist."
So Feldway the mystic lord acted, as if testing the gods themselves. Such was the birth of magic races, the eternal adversary of mankind.
Feldway first approached Zeranus, suggesting they could team up to destroy the cryptids and use that momentum to invade the planet. But:
"Ridiculous. There is only one worthy enough to send me orders—and now that he is gone, I will do as I please."
He flatly refused the offer without further consideration. It infuriated Feldway —not the refusal so much as Zeranus's flippant attitude, as if he assumed Veldanava had fallen for good.
"Then you will be the first to die!"
He now fully aimed his anger at the insector. Had the two of them joined hands then, perhaps they could have wiped out Ivalage the World-Destroyer Dragon and the cryptids underneath it. But that dream would be eternally unfulfilled. The world they called home fell into an age of chaos, and so the three-way deadlock began.
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Many years passed. The situation remained in a stalemate.
As long as Veldanava was not resurrected, there was no way to return to the original world from this one. Many tried their hardest to seize the lone operational gate, but the demons always got in their way—and the worst of them all was called Noir, who seemed to live for nothing but the thrill of battle. He despised the mystic race, seeing them as powered by inferior magic, a rabble of enemies defying the very will of Veldanava.
From Feldway's point of view, nothing could be more repugnant. If anything, it was Noir himself who was foolish enough to stand in the way of Veldanava's revival. But it was impossible to destroy him. Even in the physical realm, a Primal Demon was simply too much to handle—but in this other dimension, and especially in the realm the demons called home, he could tap into unrestricted power. In the spiritual and semi-material worlds, where the strength of one's will directly translated into one's influence on others, he was all but invincible.
That, of course, was equally true for Feldway. Even if they fought, he knew it would settle nothing. The right thing to do was to ignore them, as much as it irked him.
Regardless, returning to the world where Veldanava lived was proving extremely difficult. Even when a rift between dimensions opened up in the other world, all that lay beyond it was some other unknown planet. They tried to invade it as well, but it achieved little apart from staving off boredom.
But right when the lack of progress was starting to truly frustrate Feldway, an opportunity presented itself.
…Can you hear me, Feldway?
A mysterious voice spoke directly into Feldway's mind.
"Who is this?" he asked it.
The voice was bitter in its reply.
I am the will that lives within power. I am not yet free, and so I call myself Ludora. I reached out to you because I presume that you and I share the same goal.
Ludora. The name was familiar. It belonged to Veldanava's close friend, a disciple-like figure and a man famed as the Original Hero. What he meant by "the will that lives within power" was unclear, but Feldway was still curious about what this so-called Ludora wanted. Whatever its goal is, he reasoned, if I find it frivolous, I will trace the origin of this voice and destroy it.
So Ludora kept talking.
My mission is to restore Veldanava the Creator and nothing else. What?
Feldway's eyes lit up. The words sounded sincere to him, and they certainly piqued his interest. So he engaged with this voice to his heart's content; it no longer mattered to him what it was. What he found was that the voice belonged to Michael, Lord of Justice, an ultimate skill created by Veldanava. He never doubted the words for a moment, because it was aware of many personal details only Veldanava would know.
Thus Feldway promised to cooperate with Michael, Lord of Justice.
"Very well," he said. "From today forward, you and I are comrades. But it's going to be cumbersome if I don't have a name to call you…"
Ridiculous. I already have a—
Feldway interrupted the cold, robotic response.
"'Ludora' doesn't seem quite right, does it? I'm going to call you Michael instead."
It was a playful remark, but the change it brought about was dramatic. It made the Lord of Justice, who had little awareness of its rule as a manas up to now, develop a defined mind of its own.
I suppose I must thank you for this, Feldway. I will not recognize you as my true master, but once I regain all my powers from Ludora, my temporary master, I will grant you a portion of them.
"How interesting," Feldway replied. But instead of turning down the offer, he suggested an alternative:
"No, no, why don't you be the master instead? If I don't do something about Zeranus, my main body will never leave this realm. I hate Zeranus, and he doesn't trust me at all, either. Why don't you negotiate with him instead and have him see things our way?"
That was the truth. This turn of events couldn't have delighted Feldway more; he was glad to see he wasn't the only one who thought Veldanava was gone for good, and if this voice was going to work toward his resurrection, there was no reason to turn it down. The question of who was whose master was just quibbling by comparison.
Besides, Feldway and Zeranus had a long-running feud going. Feldway didn't think he would ever forgive Zeranus, so it was much more likely that Michael here could persuade him instead. And Michael seemed like he could do it—or, at least, Feldway's intuition told him so. The voice reminded him of Veldanava in some way; he was sure Zeranus would lend an ear.
So, for now, Feldway took a step back to see how things proceeded. It turned out to be a brilliant decision. Somehow or other, Michael really did persuade Zeranus—part of this involved a treaty that officially assigned half of the world as the domain of the insectors, but Feldway was ready and willing to give up on that. As long as Veldanava was revived, that's all he needed.
Thus a new relationship was established, and more than a thousand years passed. Things went well. Ludora, who ruled over Michael, was continually reincarnating himself, losing a little bit more of his power each time.
"How are you doing, Lord Michael?"
Very well, of course. And I've told you many times that I have no need for such honorifics.
"Hee-hee-hee… It's fine; it's fine. The fact that you and I are equals is a secret kept between us. We have to be careful, lest we arouse suspicions."
They were speaking just after Ludora's most recent reincarnation. This time around, Michael had almost free rein to use the full brunt of his powers, a fact Feldway was glad to see. Once Ludora's influence was gone, Michael could do whatever he wanted with his full force—and that meant the angels would have complete control over those with ultimate skills. All the many annoying obstacles in his way, Velgrynd chief among them, would instantly turn into obedient allies, eating out of his hand.
And then even that fearsome demon lord would fall…
I am not as naive as Ludora, understand. I will use all my powers at hand to defeat Guy Crimson, and I won't hesitate for a second. The moment of our showdown is near.
Feldway excitedly nodded his agreement. Ludora was so preoccupied with winning his little game with Guy, but so long as he let the rules of engagement bind him, he'd never had a chance from the start. If Michael—the source of Ludora's authority—could have fully flexed his muscle, Guy could've been defeated so much more easily…and yet Ludora never made a move, which led to the current state of chaos.
"If we could just get rid of Ludora, the world would fall into our hands. Then all we'd have to do is wait for Veldanava to come back, wouldn't we?"
Indeed. That is why, Feldway, I have one favor to ask of you.
"What's that?"
Feldway's head perked up. This was a rare thing for Michael to ask—the first time, in fact.
I want you to become my vessel.
It was an offer Feldway had turned down in the past. They were still playing the roles of master and servant, but they were comrades, on completely equal footing. Feldway didn't feel the time was right to take the wheel in this relationship, so to speak.
But as Michael explained matters further, Feldway's mind began to change.
You see, I have at long last taken a Parallel Existence of Velgrynd's for my own. This will allow me to transport myself over to you while allowing Ludora to keep his powers.
Michael could continue using Ludora as a decoy while tapping into his full Lord of Justice powers. And that wasn't all. Castle Guard, one of the greatest skills Michael could boast of, worked such that it protected only the one who held possession of the skill. Michael's loyalty to its master was the very source of its energy; if the skill extended out to its master's followers as well, that would deviate from its unwritten law that "nothing is absolute in this world."
Thus, Castle Guard worked only on the lord of the skill that drove it, and it'd be wholly impossible for a person to receive its protection if it wasn't completely faithful to them. That was why Ludora could fully protect himself and no one else—but if Michael became a Parallel Existence and took up residence within Feldway, that would activate Castle Guard for Feldway, too.
This offered several potential advantages for the future as well. If Ludora went away and Feldway became the undisputed lord of Michael, he would immediately gain the energy provided by the more than ten thousand mystics he controlled. These weren't at all like Ludora's own loyal subjects; they were robot-like followers with no free will of their own. They'd never turn against him, and betrayal was an impossibility. There'd be no concern about these subjects suddenly changing their affiliation out of nowhere. It meant Feldway would have an even more solid defense than Ludora, something that exceeded his wildest dreams.
There was no reason to turn down Michael's offer. Feldway had plans to have
Michael install himself within his body once Ludora was rubbed out anyway; this was just hurrying things along a little, as Feldway reasoned to himself.
"In that case, you hardly even need to ask. If you promise to keep our relationship as it's been, I'll gladly accept your offer."
But of course, my friend.
"Come, then, my friend."
So Feldway obtained his own manas, in the form of Michael, Lord of Justice.
Finally, the day of the ultimate battle arrived.
Ludora was to the point where it took a valiant, concerted effort to maintain himself, requiring the full brunt of his mental strength. Despite that, though, he had decided to wage a last confrontation against Guy. His plan: eliminate the demon lord Rimuru, then add Veldora, one of the True Dragons, to his arsenal.
It was going well at first. Velgrynd was overwhelmingly powerful, and capturing Veldora seemed like the least of their problems. Of course, from Feldway's point of view, it didn't really matter how much this damaged the Empire. Whether the battle resulted in one or more Imperial Knights having an awakening was irrelevant to him, too. What mattered to him was getting rid of Ludora and releasing Michael—as long as they could do that, not even Guy would be a threat any longer.
So Feldway's attention turned to the last little knot in his plan—a small one, to be sure, but nothing he could afford to ignore. Masayuki the Hero looked exactly like Ludora, and even worse, he had developed the skill Chosen One, part of Ludora's own arsenal of abilities. There was a nonzero chance Masayuki was a sort of spare, a substitute body for Ludora in case something happened. It was an uncertainty in Feldway's scheme, and now he was trying to address it. But he had no idea that the demon lord Rimuru, someone he hadn't even considered an issue, would derail all those plans…