The place was wrong.
The ground was the sky—
dense clouds, solid beneath their feet.
Above, nothing but white.
Endless.
Uniform.
No direction.
No horizon.
A pale figure rose from the cloud-ground as if unfolding from it.
A refined boy stepped fully into form.
Messy black hair.
Vivid emerald eyes that cut sharply against his dark attire.
Slender.
Elegant.
Ornate gothic clothing layered over his frame—black fabrics, chains, subtle metallic accents.
Aristocratic.
Intentional.
"Long time no see,"
he said calmly.
"Elder Sister Umeko."
A tall woman stood with her back partially turned.
Long jet-black hair flowed behind her, the ends carrying a faint blue sheen.
Heavy.
Thick.
Side-swept bangs veiled one eye as the clouds stirred faintly around her.
Cold turquoise eyes shifted toward him.
Sharp.
Focused.
"Valerius,"
Umeko said evenly.
"You don't need to call me 'elder sister' every time we meet."
Her hair lifted slightly in an unseen wind.
Valerius tilted his head a fraction.
"I do,"
he replied.
"You are one of the oldest True Dragons."
A pause.
"I am the second youngest."
Umeko's eyes narrowed.
"Age is irrelevant to us,"
she said.
She turned fully toward him.
"You've been spending time in another universe,"
she continued.
"And you've picked up mortal habits."
Valerius didn't react outwardly.
Internally—surprise flickered.
"How did you know,"
he asked calmly.
Umeko rested one hand on her hip.
She wore a sleek black evening dress—deep neckline, open back.
It hugged her waist and hips before falling straight.
A black choker.
Geometric gold earrings.
Minimal adornment.
"What a stupid question,"
she said flatly.
"I've also seen you lingering around a mortal woman."
Her gaze sharpened.
"Why."
Valerius looked aside.
"I'm assisting that universe,"
he said.
"It began producing mana and monsters without precedent."
Umeko's eyes widened slightly.
"So a universe governed purely by material law suddenly manifested metaphysics,"
she said.
"That means a higher being entered it."
She paused.
"Injected metaphysics by force."
Valerius nodded once.
A voice came from behind him.
"May I say,"
the voice said lightly.
"You're already late."
Both turned.
A tall, ethereal figure approached.
Snow-white hair.
Icy blue eyes.
Pale, flawless skin.
Slender.
Graceful.
"Indra,"
Umeko said.
Valerius's eyes narrowed faintly.
"Oh,"
he said.
"It's you."
A pause.
"Where's Lilith."
Indra smiled softly.
A slender girl stepped out from behind him.
Long white hair flowed to her waist, wispy and layered.
Bangs partially obscured her eyes.
Gold pins and clips caught the light.
She wore a black uniform—button-up shirt, dark tie edged in gold, pleated skirt, waist belt.
One thigh covered in a stocking.
The other bare, wrapped with light bandages.
A holster rested at her side.
Black combat boots grounded her stance.
"I'm here, Brother Valerius,"
Lilith said quietly.
Indra looked between them.
"Has it been a hundred thousand years,"
he said gently,
"since we gathered like this?"
"Yes,"
Umeko replied.
Valerius ran a hand through his hair.
"Sister Umeko,"
he said.
"Can you explain why we were summoned."
Umeko turned toward him.
Indra and Lilith stepped closer.
"Since all True Dragons are present,"
Umeko said,
"we'll begin."
She paused.
"To be direct,"
she continued.
"The Sixth Royal Party must commence."
Shock rippled through them.
Lilith's eyes widened.
Valerius froze.
Indra's smile thinned.
"You're joking,"
Lilith said softly.
Indra raised a hand to his chin.
"You're serious,"
he said.
"I am,"
Umeko replied.
Silence deepened.
"A universe threat,"
Lilith murmured.
Indra lowered his hand.
"If they succeed,"
he said,
"one becomes a universe ruler."
He smiled faintly.
"They'll read the universe like an author reads a book."
"Observe,"
he continued.
"Edit."
"Interfere."
"To them,"
Indra added,
"all life inside becomes nothing more than characters."
Valerius scoffed.
"And why should we risk ourselves,"
he asked,
"for beings beneath us."
Lilith stiffened.
"I see no point,"
Indra said calmly.
"We are no longer bound to any universe."
(Our power has surpassed the old bindings.)
Umeko thought.
(The universe likely replaced us long ago.)
She watched them speak.
Sound faded.
Only mouths moving.
(We were born to protect reality from alteration.)
(Now we're obsolete.)
She looked up.
"Those unwilling to fight,"
Umeko said,
"raise your hand."
Valerius raised his immediately.
"I protect another universe,"
he said.
"Only those without attachments are free."
Indra raised his hand next.
"I see no value in this,"
he said.
Umeko nodded.
"I agree,"
she said, raising her own.
All eyes turned to Lilith.
"And you,"
Valerius asked.
Lilith looked down.
Her hands clenched at her chest.
(I want to protect them.)
(All of them.)
Time felt slow.
(I'm afraid.)
(Maybe gods and humans share that.)
She raised her hand.
"Yeah,"
Lilith said uncertainly.
"Me too."
The vote ended.
Valerius turned away.
"That's settled,"
he said.
He vanished.
Indra followed.
Then Umeko.
Only Lilith remained.
The space fractured.
Cracks spread like broken glass as darkness swallowed the white.
"Aren't families supposed to stay together,"
Lilith whispered.
She looked up.
An idea ignited.
"The Royal Party,"
she said quietly.
"I'll ask for their aid."
Her fist tightened.
"I won't abandon this universe,"
she said firmly.
"I won't let its people become characters."
A smile touched her lips.
"As a True Dragon of Supreme Light,"
Lilith declared,
"I will oppose anything that denies free will."
The space collapsed completely.
Darkness followed.
Somewhere else.
A white celestial chamber stretched endlessly.
At its center floated a round table of white glass—
no legs,
no support.
The edges looked melted,
as if candle wax had dripped and frozen mid-fall.
Seven chairs hovered around it.
Tall backrests.
The same wax-like design.
No legs.
Inside each chair, a liquid glow shifted—
rainbow hues moving slowly,
alive.
Lilith stepped back from the table.
She placed one finger against her cheek, eyes scanning the room.
"The final touches are done,"
Lilith said quietly.
She exhaled.
Then froze.
Her eyes widened slightly.
Her hands fell to her sides as a presence brushed against her awareness.
(There's still an hour before the Royal Party begins…)
(And two have already arrived.)
She turned.
Black shadow-mist rose from the white floor.
Two shapes formed within it—
one male,
one female.
The mist burst apart.
Haruto stood there.
Ronóva clung to his arm, close, possessive.
Lilith stiffened.
"You arrived earlier than I expected,"
she said nervously, gaze dropping to the floor.
"Thank you for coming."
Ronóva tilted her head, tightening her hold on Haruto's arm until her chest pressed against it.
"And you are…?"
Ronóva asked casually.
Lilith flinched, then looked up quickly.
"O–oh!"
she said.
"I'm the host."
She straightened her posture—barely.
"Lilith. True Dragon of Supreme Light."
(She's the host?)
Haruto thought, faintly surprised.
(She doesn't carry confidence at all.)
Ronóva released Haruto's arm.
Her chest settled back naturally as she stepped forward.
"I'm Ronóva,"
she said warmly, extending her hand.
"It's an honor to meet one of the True Dragons."
Lilith stared at the offered hand.
Her eyes widened.
She hesitated—then took it.
(She's… friendly.)
Lilith thought.
(Genuinely.)
"There's no need to be so nervous,"
Haruto said with a gentle smile, head tilting slightly.
Lilith folded her hands in front of her.
Her gaze dropped.
"I'm sorry,"
she said softly.
"I'm not good around people."
Ronóva blinked.
"That's… concerning,"
Haruto said calmly.
"How do you intend to lead a discussion like this?"
Lilith winced.
Her shoulders tightened.
Ronóva placed a hand on Lilith's shoulder.
Lilith looked up.
"Don't beat yourself up,"
Ronóva said gently.
Haruto's eyes narrowed.
"With that attitude,"
he said firmly,
"no one will take you seriously—even as a True Dragon."
Ronóva shot him a sharp look.
Haruto immediately looked away.
"That's not helping,"
Ronóva said flatly.
Haruto sighed.
"Lilith,"
he said.
Both women turned to him.
"If you're willing,"
Haruto continued,
"I'll take your place as host."
"That could work,"
Ronóva added.
Lilith blinked.
"You would?"
she asked, nervousness fading into cautious relief.
"Are you sure?"
"Completely,"
Haruto said.
"I rule a kingdom."
Lilith stared—then smiled.
"Thank you—"
she paused, embarrassed.
"I don't even know your name."
Haruto smiled as he moved to a chair and sat.
"Haruto Satoru,"
he said.
"Now let's begin."
"R–right,"
Lilith said, startled.
Ronóva and Lilith took their seats.
The chairs adjusted subtly beneath them.
Haruto leaned back.
One elbow rested on the armrest.
His head settled against his hand.
Confidence filled the space.
Haruto's gaze sharpened on Lilith.
"If I recall correctly,"
he said, voice firm,
"there should be three more True Dragons."
Lilith looked aside.
Her fingers tightened together on her lap.
"They… forsook this universe,"
she said quietly.
Ronóva's eyes widened.
"They abandoned it,"
she repeated.
Lilith nodded.
"Yes,"
she said.
"Now that we are unbound from all universes… they see no value in protecting this one."
(So that's it.)
Ronóva thought.
(Self-preservation.)
Haruto closed his eyes briefly.
(Makes sense.)
(No one wants to be a character.)
He opened them again.
"Forget them,"
Haruto said decisively.
"We don't need cowards."
Lilith nodded.
Ronóva watched with a soft smile.
(So this is him.)
she thought.
(This is my darling when he leads.)
Lilith began explaining.
The room felt steadier.
Purpose returned.
An hour passed.
Lilith finished relaying everything she intended to share—
the structure of the Royal Party,
the stakes,
the consequences.
She chuckled softly as Ronóva spoke animatedly beside her, the two gradually warming to one another.
Haruto remained silent on the opposite side.
Eyes closed.
Posture relaxed.
Presence heavy.
(Four representatives.)
(Each the strongest of their species.)
Haruto thought calmly.
"Here they come,"
he said, eyes opening.
Four portals bloomed along the chamber walls—
door-length rifts of distorted light.
One by one.
The first figure stepped through.
A slender girl with long platinum-blonde hair brushed with gold.
Warm amber eyes.
Calm.
Distant.
Her fair skin carried a faint glow, delicate yet balanced.
Slightly shorter than average—fragile in appearance, but grounded.
(High elf.)
Haruto noted.
(Hrachya.)
The moment Hrachya entered, her gaze locked onto him.
Not by choice.
By pressure.
(So much power…)
she thought, sensing the controlled rainbow aura circling him like a quiet tide.
"Greetings,"
Hrachya said gently.
Ronóva and Lilith returned her greeting with warm smiles.
Haruto gestured to an open chair.
Hrachya bowed slightly and sat beside Ronóva.
The second portal flared.
A woman emerged—
silver hair against obsidian skin.
Luminous eyes restrained behind practiced stillness.
Ritual garb wrapped her form, silver chains and rings worn like bindings rather than adornments.
(Felicia.)
(Tenebryn.)
She said nothing.
She simply observed.
The third portal rippled.
A striking woman stepped out—silver hair, glowing red eyes, confidence sharp as a blade.
Dark green off-shoulder top.
High-waisted black pants.
Minimal jewelry—save for crimson earrings mirroring her gaze.
She smiled faintly.
The final portal thundered open.
A towering beastman strode forward.
Crimson hair flowed down his back.
Black horns curved sharply.
Ash-gray skin carved with glowing red sigils.
Power radiated from him unrestrained.
Chatzkel.
His smile alone carried pride.
Minutes passed as introductions concluded.
Unnecessary formalities dissolved.
Chatzkel leaned back.
Boots planted on the table.
"Hmph,"
he scoffed.
"Enough with this pointless talk."
He looked straight at Haruto.
"Explain why you dragged me here."
Haruto blinked once—surprised.
Then smiled calmly.
(Is he serious?)
he thought.
Seraphina's voice surfaced.
『He is not unintelligent, Master.
Beasts operate through instinct and dominance logic.
Directness is priority.』
(That wasn't the question.)
Haruto replied internally.
(But noted.)
"The Royal Party has one purpose,"
Haruto said evenly.
"Being here should already explain why."
He tilted his head slightly.
"I doubt this is your first time hearing of it."
Chatzkel's eyes narrowed.
The calm tone felt like mockery.
"Hey,"
he growled, pointing.
"I don't like how you said that."
"Are you mocking me?"
Haruto paused.
"…Maybe,"
he replied.
A low snicker escaped the silver-haired woman.
"It is laughable,"
she said lazily, playing with a strand of hair,
"to arrive ignorant."
Chatzkel slammed his fist onto the table.
The impact echoed.
"So you are mocking me,"
he snarled.
"Who the hell do you think you are?"
Haruto's expression didn't change.
"I am me,"
he answered simply.
Chatzkel froze.
"What…?"
"We shouldn't fight,"
Hrachya said gently.
"We're allies."
Chatzkel snapped his gaze toward her.
"Shut up, woman."
Hrachya stiffened.
Haruto's smile vanished.
His eyes narrowed.
"I challenge you to a duel,"
Chatzkel declared loudly.
The room fell silent.
"Hm."
Haruto tilted his head.
"No."
Chatzkel laughed arrogantly.
"No?"
"Afraid?"
Haruto exhaled.
"Not afraid,"
he said calmly.
"You're weak."
"I don't bully the weak."
(He really doesn't soften things.)
Ronóva thought.
(I know that pain.)
Felicia spoke.
"I disagree,"
she said coolly.
"A leader must prove power."
Her eyes met Haruto's.
"I won't follow someone weaker than myself."
Lilith's eyes widened.
"Fine,"
Haruto said.
"But when I win—"
He looked at Chatzkel.
"You apologize to Hrachya."
Shock rippled through the room.
Chatzkel scoffed.
"Never,"
he said.
"A king does not apologize."
"Today,"
Haruto replied calmly,
"that changes."
Lilith stood.
"If both are ready,"
she said, voice steady now,
"I'll prepare the stage."
She snapped her fingers.
White light erupted.
The chamber expanded—
walls racing outward,
the table shrinking until it looked like a distant speck.
An arena formed.
Boundless.
Silent.
Haruto rose slowly.
Chatzkel grinned.
Haruto and Chatzkel moved away from the table.
Side by side.
Far enough that the others wouldn't be caught in the crossfire.
"I'm going all out,"
Chatzkel said, rolling his shoulders.
"I expect the same."
"I wasn't planning on holding back,"
Haruto replied calmly.
"So try not to die."
They stopped.
Turned.
Chatzkel towered over him—
sharp grin, predatory eyes.
Haruto looked up.
Serious.
Unblinking.
"Interesting,"
Chatzkel said, tilting his head.
"Men are so chaotic,"
Shirin said with a soft smile, legs crossed.
"Yes…"
Hrachya murmured.
"But this looks like a trial of strength."
Ronóva chuckled lightly.
"For me,"
she said, eyes on Haruto,
"it looks like he's fighting for you."
She glanced at Hrachya.
"Because Chatzkel disrespected you openly."
Hrachya stiffened—
then nodded.
"Oh?"
Felicia asked, eyes sliding to Ronóva.
"So you and him…?"
"Yes,"
Ronóva answered simply.
"You have good taste,"
Shirin said.
Ronóva smiled.
—
Back at the arena.
Chatzkel moved first.
A fist came down—
huge.
Dense.
The air screamed.
Haruto tilted his head.
The punch missed by centimeters.
Haruto jumped—
landed on Chatzkel's arm.
The weight surprised him.
"You—"
Chatzkel started.
A kick snapped out.
Haruto's heel smashed into the side of Chatzkel's head.
The impact cracked the air.
Chatzkel spun—
once,
twice,
three times—
midair.
Haruto flipped back.
Landed cleanly.
One foot.
Then the other.
Chatzkel dug his claws into the ground to stop himself.
"How does it feel?"
Haruto asked calmly.
"Pretty good, right?"
Chatzkel bared his teeth.
"That wasn't worth calling a kick."
He vanished.
"Instant Teleportation"
Space folded.
Chatzkel appeared behind Haruto—
arm already swinging.
Haruto turned his head slowly.
Looked back.
Chatzkel froze.
His arm was gone.
Blood exploded outward.
Chatzkel laughed.
Low.
Wild.
He stared at the stump—
then at his severed arm in Haruto's hand.
"Heh…"
Chatzkel said.
"Nice."
(Shit…)
Haruto thought.
(I meant to throw him. I pulled too hard.)
Flesh crawled.
Bone reformed.
In seconds—
his arm regrew.
"High-Speed Regeneration"
Haruto tossed the severed limb aside.
It hit the ground.
Blood splashed.
"You should know,"
Haruto said evenly,
"physical attacks are irrelevant against me."
Chatzkel clenched his new fist.
Tested it.
Flexed.
"Yes,"
he said.
"As a spiritual life-form, you're not bound by physical law."
He grinned wider.
"So only soul-based attacks will work."
Haruto lifted his gaze.
"Lucky for you,"
Chatzkel continued,
"I brought the right tool."
(That could be bad.)
Haruto thought.
(If my soul is destroyed—)
He paused.
(…Nah.)
(I'll just beat him to death.)
"Demonic Dark Flames,"
Chatzkel declared.
Black fire erupted.
Not heat—
pressure.
The flames writhed like living strokes of ink, crawling over his arms.
Haruto narrowed his eyes.
(Seraphina.)
『Analysis complete.
Demonic Dark Flames target the soul directly.』
Haruto didn't flinch.
『There is no danger, Master.
Even total soul destruction would result in immediate reconstitution.』
Haruto exhaled softly.
『Your existence is bound to a concept.
Not a vessel.』
Haruto smiled.
Small.
Cold.
"Good,"
he said aloud.
Chatzkel lunged—
dark fire tearing through space.