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Usurpation.
I will knock you off the throne of the Creator Deity.
It was nothing less than the pinnacle of blasphemy, directly opposing divinity and faith. As Edanant boasted about usurpation, Gael’s beautiful face darkened with anger.
“How dare, an outsider like you…!”
Of all people, why must he demand usurpation from an outsider who has flowed in from beyond?
A being that steals others’ bodies and even their lives.
The Earth Mother Gael is a benevolent Creator Deity who loves all humans of this world. But the outsider who entered from another realm was the only exception. After all, they were not the blessed beings created in the world she governed.
Because she loves the creations of this world above all, it must feel like an eye-sore to have a being from outside.
A child of another family’s house.
And that child happens to worship the most grotesque war among the disasters of innocence.
A being that tarnishes the praise of life and providence.
To Gael, he was a target that incited rage just by existing.
“You’ve had your fill already. It’s time to step down.”
“Maybe for others… but I don’t want to hear it from you.”
The fall of the Creator Deity was necessary to forever end the world’s doom.
It was a perfectly valid argument.
Gray was the curse manifested from the collapse of balance.
If relinquishing the throne of the Creator Deity could save the world and all humans, she would willingly accept it. Because the safety of her beloved children took precedence over the honor and glory of being at the peak.
“I’m angry. Why of all things…!”
She ruffled her beautiful pink hair, as lovely as peonies, while spilling her rage.
And she lifted her gaze, glaring at Edanant.
“I hate you, I detest you. How can such an eyesore of a human even exist?”
“I wish I could hate myself less.”
The one being hated solely by the benevolent Earth Mother.
The pain of being a pariah pierced deeply.
But Edanant, already accustomed to it, shrugged and replied.
-I ask you, Creator Deity.
-While Edan saved countless people… what did you do?
The existence of the world. The throne of the Creator Deity.
The dry question resounded in the mind of the Creator Deity, now at a crossroads where one side must be let go.
It was the voice of Maximilian, who had scorned her.
A terrible detestable parasite.
Yet, despite being an outsider, he fought fiercely to save the people of this world.
Tens of thousands.
Perhaps nearing hundreds of thousands.
Beatrice sacrificed herself to save such a benefactor. Did not even the lovers of the saintess accept a noble resolution and choose the thorny path that led to death?
“…I understand.”
The Creator Deity, who had maintained silence, finally spoke.
Acceptance.
She accepted the pressure of usurpation.
At that answer, perplexity spread across Edanant’s face. He never thought that the Creator Deity, who despised him so terribly, would comply so readily.
“But it won’t be easy. The throne of the Creator Deity, which has endured for centuries… will only return to nothingness once someone pulls it down.”
“I know. I’ve heard enough.”
Filled with coldness, Gael’s sky-blue eyes turned to Edanant’s back. At the end of her gaze was a girl with flowing red hair.
War.
The wicked disaster that would annihilate humanity.
Gael and Lierre glared at each other with a profound disdain. The Creator Deity born from the wonders of life and the Disaster God, born from the greed of destruction, were sworn enemies.
-That habit of grinning while feeling the skin of beautiful girls is still as persistent as ever. When will you graduate from this childish puppet play?
“I should have taken you out first.”
Gael sighed deeply, her pink hair tousled.
In response, Lierre let out a thin snicker.
“Outsider.”
“Yeah.”
“You deserve to usurp the throne. And you have enough reason to do it.”
“…….”
Covering numerous divine statuses as plentiful as stars in the night sky, he took the throne of the Creator Deity. To abandon the glorious peak that had lasted for centuries, tremendous courage must follow.
If not for the sacrifices of the Saintess Party, would this have been possible?
No,
the outsider would certainly not have accepted the offer extended.
Gael acknowledged both the qualifications and reasons for Edanant’s usurpation as she looked at him. Seeing the Creator Deity humbly acknowledging the usurpation, Lierre displayed a look of surprise.
“I’ll wait in the land where the age of the Creator Deity begins. So go ahead, pull me down from the throne. If the usurpation succeeds, you will end the age of the Creator Deity with your own hands.”
“Sure.”
As soon as the words ended, Beatrice’s body wavered precariously.
She must be trying to end the possession.
Edanant hurriedly stepped forward, embracing the swaying Beatrice. The saintess, with pink hair as beautiful as peonies, fell into his arms.
“…Beatrice.”
He felt warmth akin to sunlight.
Through him, he realized that Beatrice had finally returned.
*
The final battle was over.
Like a momentary spring breeze, the chilly wind that scattered foretold of victory.
The dark clouds of death had cleared.
The permafrost fields, covered in snow and ice, would someday return to their original form.
As the dark clouds dissipated, brilliant sunlight bestowed its radiance. The grand magicians, who had battled against the minions of death, mindlessly uttered impure words of divine miracles.
“Son!”
Pshew-.
The chains of the fallen angel scattered like grains of sand.
Simultaneously, a slender man collapsed to the ground.
His shoulder-length indigo hair.
A haggard face like a warren and distinct features.
The Arklich, symbolizing the pinnacle of corrupted magic, instantly transformed back into the handsome young man. Querisa let out a scream close to a wail as she embraced her beloved son.
“Ma-Master of the Magic Tower…?!”
“You should just call me mom.”
She stroked his face.
Then, she patted his neck and shoulders.
He was no longer undead.
He had returned to being human.
It was hard to fully grasp the miracle unfolding before her eyes through the information relayed by sight. So Querisa confirmed his survival, hugging Madbay with such fervor that she almost screamed.
“My whole body hurts! It’s like when I was beaten by dozens at a tavern one time…!”
“Maybe, it seems Edan did it.”
A miracle that was utterly incomprehensible unfolded.
Felix and Regnas were convinced it was Edanant’s achievement.
“Felix, Regnas.”
The dark-haired young man limped toward them.
Upon reuniting with his comrades who had returned to their original forms, a faint smile appeared on his formerly stoic face.
“Edan defeated the disaster of death. Or rather, to be precise… he moved the disaster of death to another vessel.”
“What’s with that nonsense?”
“It’s a long explanation. I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I understand. There are surely limits to how far your desperate verbal skills can convey a grand explanation.”
The sage who had accepted the disaster of death, along with the mercenary king and the sword saint, also returned to their human forms.
Having heard the news, Ludmilla and Zebeline gazed at the Demon King’s Castle with trembling eyes.
It’s all over now.
Edan would return with Beatrice soon.
She wanted to rush into the Demon King’s Castle and search for Edanant right away but decided to wait. After overcoming all the adversities and realizing a miracle, heroes needed hospitality above all.
“Edan!”
As she anxiously awaited,
Edanant finally appeared.
He was not alone.
Carrying an unconscious Beatrice on his back, he returned with Elizaveta.
Proving how many torments he had endured, the warmonger was in tatters. Yet the princess and the saintess greeted him with bright smiles.
“Hey, reverse harem slaves. Carry the sleepy saintess away.”
Regnas. Madbay. Felix.
As Edanant shrugged after confirming his comrades were safe, the sword saint, sage, and mercenary king staggered over and hugged him.
“Thank you, Edan!”
“You’ve saved us again!”
“I’m sorry…! I love you…!”
Since he was carrying Beatrice on his back, there was no way for Edanant to escape from the fervent camaraderie of his comrades. He screamed as he was enveloped in their tight embrace.
And Maximilian quietly watched this warm scene from behind.
“It’s a bit disappointing to lose my turn… but I can’t interfere with my comrades’ welcome.”
“Well, considering how many stories we’ve had up until now, I’ll let it slide just for today.”
Ludmilla and Zebeline knew better than anyone the effort Edanant had put forth to find their missing companions.
At last,
at last they had reunited.
Everyone was the result of Edanant’s desperate efforts and attempts until now.
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