“Aah… Is something the matter, Faust?”

Without even knocking, Faust, who I had swiftly grown close to—I appreciated, perhaps even outright liked her frank, respectless attitude—stepped into my office, her usual teasing smirk accompanied by a hint of hesitation.

“Ah, that’s… Uh…”

“This is unlike you, Faust.”

“I guess it is, huh.”

She took a moment to… collect herself, perhaps? She placed a claw in front of her chest and took a deep breath, her eyes closed, then stared me down straight.

“It’s time. My lord is coming.”

With a single swift movement, I put my paperwork on the table, set down my ballpen next to it—although it was a waste of time to have Misery progress society, convenient things remained convenient—and rose to my feet.

“I see… After all, the most suitable location for a fight is the throne room, but it has scarce been a week since that was destroyed by the former Hero… plus, I do not wish to defile it with the presence of that thing…”

Indeed, my time spent with Claiomh Solais had also given me more information about Mephistopheles… Because Mephistopheles lived… no, existed in the same non-existent ‘space’ as the original source of Claiomh Solais’s power.

“There’s a training ground, right? Why not use that?”

“Aah… Certainly. Then, you head there ahead of time… I will have a maid call some people and head there, too.”

“Gotcha!”

***

Based on a few criteria, I had excluded certain people from the combat lineup, chaining them to the role of spectator or support…

And through a strange twist of fate, that had limited my Demon Generals to support, while allowing Alpine to stand on the frontlines.

After all, the criterium was—

Prior contact, in one way or another, with either of those things.

The wielder of the god-sword wielded… well, the god-sword, which received its power from one of the things, and Alpine had received direct power from the other… through my brief time with Claiomh Solais, I knew I had both the things’ attention, and the mage Hero was essentially an exception because I was not expecting Claiomh Solais’s wielder to produce any worthwhile results without her by his side.

Of course, Misery was also participating, as part of my equipment.

And thus, as a group of only four, we stood in front of Faust, who had taken the courtesy of putting a few steps’ distance between us.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds… and then, perhaps feeling the observing, malevolent gaze of her master, she spoke.

“I am, that which creates worlds.

I am, that which destroys worlds.

I am, that which saves people.

I am, that which kills people.”

Familiar words. A chant I had heard before.

The stars in the black night sky, one by one, vanished, as if being blotted out.

“I am Mephistopheles, in the flesh.

My name is Faust.

I am she who will become God.

Your death, was decided upon long ago.”

A visible crack ran through the sky. The world itself was falling apart at this abhorrent thing’s invasion.

“Before my Lord, all is as food.

And my Lord is that which eats.

Food is to be eaten. That is what is called ‘fate’.”

There was no hesitation in her voice. Whether that was because she trusted in the words she was saying, or because she trusted in me, I had no way to know.

“So now, as the harbinger of that which eats all, I must inform you.

Your fate is to be eaten. Please do not resist, as you will not win.

You cannot escape.

The World-Eater’s Authority—

Meeeeeeephistopheleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees!”

For a moment. Just the shortest moment, small enough to be unnoticeable.

Fire stopped burning. Rivers forgot to flow. The wind stopped in its tracks and the land no longer supported all that stood upon it. Light stopped driving away darkness, and darkness no longer seeped into the places not covered by light.

And then, the very next moment.

Fire burned the world. Rivers flowed once more. Wind gushed across the land, which supported all that stood upon it. Light drove away darkness, and darkness seeped into every little crack the light did not cover.

And before us stood Faust, her body no longer her own… No, her robes were gone, replaced with some manner of outlandish outfit, and on her stomach sat a gaping, toothy maw. And neither was she standing, exactly… Perhaps Mephistopheles had more control over its abilities, because it calmly floated a good few dozen centimetres off the ground.

That which ate… Indeed, it was a fitting name.

How disgusting.

In order to prevent it from affecting the world any further, I quickly raised Misery into the sky while it was still getting its bearings, and—

“[Blasphemous Magic: Divine Prison].”

A new sort of magic I had developed specifically to fight this thing. Anti-divine magic, fittingly entitled ‘blasphemous’, which reacted specifically to divinity.

From Misery’s tip, like a spiderweb, pure malice spread out, covering the entire training grounds and effectively sealing Mephistopheles inside… not.

Purposefully, I left a small gap.

After all, it was hard to believe all of it had arrived, just yet, and shutting the rest out would be…

In any case, it appeared to be gathering its bearings, so I turned my attention back to it.

“Ah… Welcome, Mephistopheles. It pains me to ask this of you so immediately, but it would be splendid if you could offer your life to me.”

Faust… No, Mephistopheles looked at me for a good few seconds, something akin to disbelief flaring up in its cold, dead eyes, and then…

“Aha… Hahaha… Hahahahaha…!”

Accompanied by the loudest warped bell I had heard, it laughed out loud, its voice disturbing me to my core.

“My Life? You Would Tell Me To Offer My Life? You Are Interesting… As I Thought, You Are Interesting. I Can Understand ████████ And ████’s Feelings.”

Names I could not understand… No, names I could not process. And yet, I knew exactly who it was referring to.

The one with the longer name was the one who had stolen a march on me and granted power to my own pet…

And the one with the shorter name was the cause of this entire mess, to begin with…!

The moment I was about to step forward, blade in hand—

“Your Majesty.”

I was addressed by the sword-wielding former Hero… No, I was addressed by Reynald, who took a step forward in my place.

“I dislike the current state of the world just as much as you do, Your Majesty, so if you’d allow me…”

“You are ill-suited for formal phrasings, Reynald. Cease them at once.”

“... Got it. Then I’ll put it plainly.”

He took a moment to collect himself, only possible because Mephistopheles was still underestimating us.

“This thing is the same kind of creature as something that’s caused untold amounts of suffering, so is it okay if I beat it up?”

“Give it your best shot.”

With my words as a trigger, he rushed forward, and Ebstrea raised her staff.

***

The first thing Reynald did was what he did near the end of the fight with the fake demon king… and really, what he’d been able to do this whole time, and what he should’ve been doing this whole time.

“Claiomh Solais, lend me your power!”

At the same time the buffs from Ebstrea reached him, he called upon his sword, and the sword, newly invigorated by the demon king’s power, responded enthusiastically.

It spoke no words, but Reynald could sense its emotions anyway… It was glad Reynald had finally figured out the proper way to use it.

Pulled from the sword, sacred light covered Reynald’s body, shining golden and beautiful.

“Oh? This Is ████’s Power… How Peculiar.”

Mephistopheles tilted its head a moment, perhaps in puzzlement, but then shook its head as if to indicate it didn’t particularly care.

“No Matter. Die.”

It raised its left claw… which seemed to have grown compared to Faust’s original form, and swept it to the side, the sheer wind pressure smashing Reynald away.

So as to keep Reynald in the arena, the demon king erected a hasty barrier of earth for him to slam into, and the impact caused him to cough up some blood… But he quickly collected himself and got back onto his feet.

And then, as though he hadn’t learnt anything at all, he rushed forward again.

“Not Just Reckless, But Also Foolish?”

At this behaviour that spoke of idiocy beyond reason, Mephistopheles canted its head to the side once more, its face completely devoid of even the slight hint of emotion, and again it slashed its claw to the side.

But this time—

“Haaaaaaaaah!”

Reynald swung his sword, cutting the wind pressure to bits, and reached Mephistopheles, immediately delivering another slash.

As though by reflex, Mephistopheles raised its right claw to defend itself… the middle finger, in particular, was elongated, perhaps to assist in blocking or deflecting attacks, and the outer edge was serrated, so Reynald’s sword got stuck behind one of the hooks.

“Hrrrgh…!”

“Annoying.”

Though there was a brief clash of blades, Faust’s overwhelming physical strength was still present even with her lord in control of her body, so Mephistopheles easily threw Reynald aside.

Aiming exactly for that gap, Ebstrea launched a spell at Mephistopheles…

But it raised its tail and deflected the spell, causing the thing to crash into the ground instead.

Observing the aftermath of that crash… that is, the crater and the cracks running across the ground, Mephistopheles spoke once more.

“Not Bad, For A Mortal… But You Will Need More Powerful Spells Than That To Defeat Me.”

It turned its dead, emotionless eyes back up—

“?!”

And was bashed right in the head by Claiomh Solais’s edge.

Indeed, bashed. With the weapon’s sharp edge. Because it completely failed to draw blood… and even knockback-wise, Mephistopheles only floated a few centimetres backwards. Instead, it was Reynald who jumped back, and shook his wrist, muttering to himself about how hard Mephistopheles’s head was.

But Mephistopheles could hardly pause to think about the hardness of its own head.

For it was, indeed, far too confused.

How had the mortal slipped by its senses? By all rights, it should’ve noticed him. Its senses surpassed even the strongest of beasts—even now, it could sense even the slight changes in the air brought about by its opponents’ breathing.

Unless…?!

It turned its eyes upon the Hero’s blade once more, and only now realised something.

Certainly, it had ████’s power, but… That was far more than expected, that was enough to…?!

“Hm? Judging from that gaze, you’ve found me out?”

The Hero, as though embarrassed, scratched the back of his head, laughing sheepishly to himself.

“I don’t know when I learned this, but I realised that if I just wish to be somewhere, a few moments later-”

And he disappeared from sight.

“-I’ll be right there.”

Once more, he swung his sword at Mephistopheles, though this time, since the world-eater was expecting his attack, it simply blocked with its blade-like claw again and threw the Hero once more to the curb.

“As I Thought, You Are Annoying.”

The tone of its voice was akin to someone getting irritated by a fly. And yet that was already likely more than most worlds had achieved against it.

And yet, in the middle of its observations of Reynald—

“Don’t forget about me, either!”

It was hit by a spell, pushing it a few centimetres back again.

A spell shot by the mage Hero…

Who had a tiny white Kobold at her feet, which, in turn, had a massive magical formation spread around it, black as obsidian.

████████’s…?!

“You Are Equally Obnoxious.”

But this, too, was an attack just as pointless as the earlier sword-strike. It was simply a difference of scale. Even enhanced by ████████’s power and thus made invisible and intangible until the very moment it hit, it was still an attack launched by a mere mortal mage—let alone a decree, she had not even manifested a craving. There was no possible way her attacks would penetrate the defences of the ancient consumer of gods.

Shaking its head, Mephistopheles finally seemed to get a little motivated… it spread its asymmetrical claws out to either side, and spoke, in a flat voice—

“Thousand Maws—First Movement—Jaws of Gluttony.”

A surge of darkness spread from behind it, quickly consuming the entire arena… but there it stopped, likely because of the effects of the Divine Prison.

“...?”

There was no way it wouldn’t notice something so obvious, but it decided to deal with that later and swat the flies in front of it first. The darkness spread around changed shape, became darker and more solid.

Mephistopheles, after all, was that which ate. It would eat and eat, until there was nothing left to consume, growing stronger with every bite to make its next meal even easier.

“Let all of creation be my fodder.”

An ancient craving-turned-decree, scaled up far out of hand. The thing’s very presence carried an almost palpable sense of divinity, as if being consumed by it was the ultimate intended fate of everything it encountered.

The darkness seemed almost to form into massive fangs, fit to tear holes in the world.

“Tch…!”

But light banished darkness, by definition. So all Reynald had to do was build a stronger light to drive the darkness away.

“Claiomh Solais…! Come on…!”

He squeezed out every drop of mana his sword had to offer, and then continued to take more and more, drinking greedily like a newborn babe at its mother. With every second, he shone brighter, as though to illuminate a path to the ultimate, perfect future.

In the middle of a fight was a peculiar time for a craving to manifest, to be certain, but it was not unheard of.

With all his heart, Reynald wished to be a light that could banish the darkness. So that he could protect others from suffering. So that he could prevent monsters like Mephistopheles from ever surfacing again.

He shone with absolute, brilliant conviction.

And yet, effortlessly, his light was run over by the darkness.

Light banished darkness, certainly, that logic was sound… but that only applied if the scale was the same.

There was simply too much of a difference between the light of a newborn craving and the darkness of the aeons-old eater of gods.

And of course, the other Hero was in an even worse state…

If it were not for the Kobold by her side, fending off the darkness with its own darkness-empowered ice, she would have been overrun long ago.

“You Are… Still Alive…?”

There was absolutely no malice in Mephistopheles’s voice… no, it was purely surprised that the Heroes had managed to survive its all-consuming maws. Almost like an innocent child playing with some bugs, it tilted its head at the Heroes’ resilience.

“Don’t you… underestimate us, now…”

Though he was barely even on his feet, Reynald still managed to put on a strong front and taunt the god-eating god in front of him.

“I hope you do not mind if I step in, too, Reynald. Looking at your battle… I admit it has made me rather excited.”

The demon king, too, stepped forward, pushing away the darkness. It seemed almost effortless… Why was that…? Certainly, he was stronger than the Heroes, but he was still far weaker than the eater of worlds.

Mephistopheles pondered for a moment, then decided the ‘why’ was unimportant. All it had to do was eat the aberration, and it would gain his power.

The demon king clutched his sword and rushed forth—

Mephistopheles attempted to raise its left claw to smash the demon king away with wind pressure, as it had done to the Hero, but found itself unable to raise that claw, so instead, it raised its right claw and blocked the attack.

“...?!”

It couldn’t move its left claw?! Ridiculous! Certainly, there would be times where the sheer power of an opponent would prevent one from moving, but it was the stronger party here, so that was clearly not what was going on. Nay, it was almost like its body simply refused to move…

As if there was some compelling force telling it not to move that claw…

It shook its head. Again, there was no point in thinking about the ‘why’. It would simply have to work around it. So it swiped its claw to the side to throw the demon king aside…

It couldn’t do that, either…?!

“I am afraid you will find it quite hard to hurt me, Mephistopheles.”

The demon king spoke, a diabolical grin on his face. His blood was racing, his heart was beating like a drum, his synapses fired at rapid speeds—for the first time in many years, he truly felt the thrill of battle.

“I will have you return the second person in the world I would call a friend, you miserable excuse for a god.”

Those words were, by all means, a mistake.

After all, they caused Mephistopheles to snap.

“Miserable… Excuse… For A God…?”

Not at the part where he implied Faust could be a friend to him, no. That was nothing unusual… In the past, there were many occasions where mortals had taken a liking to Faust, whether platonic or romantic, and tried to fight Mephistopheles to ‘rescue’ her.

But…

“Miserable Excuse For A God…?! I Shall Show You A God!”

At once, Mephistopheles pulled the entirety of its being into the world. Behind it, unnoticed, a cage slipped closed.

And it opened its mouth once more—

“Thousand Maws—Final Movement—Graaaaaand Finaaaaleeeeeeeee!”

In its anger, it skipped straight past the second, third and fourth movements and went right to the fifth, racing to the finish line.

It found it still couldn’t assault the demon king himself, so instead—

“Take This…!”

Its fang pierced straight through Misery’s End, boring an ugly hole in her beautiful blade.

“Ghk…?!”

The demon king, in disbelief, jumped back, only slightly relieved that much of the blade was intact.

And—

Ignoring the Kobold’s defences entirely, on the backline, its jaws closed on Ebstrea’s heart.

“Ebstre-?!”

Reynald rushed to her side.