Chapter 29
POV: Meruem
There were individuals in this world who seemed born beneath an impossibly fortunate constellation, people for whom greatness was less an aspiration than an inevitability. In cultivation stories, such people are often called the favored sons of heaven.
In this world, Heaven’s favor could be literal. Some humans were born with Sacred Gears engraved upon their souls, and among those fortunate few, an infinitesimal number carried one of the Thirteen Longinus, weapons capable of overturning history and slaying gods. The odds of being born with one are so infinitesimal that a mortal is more likely to awaken as a deity than to inherit a Longinus. Others inherited the blood of demigods, reincarnated souls, or lineages that guaranteed power before their first conscious thought. Among devils, no lineage stood higher than Lucifer.
The figure standing before Meruem was the convergence of miracles so improbable that they bordered upon the impossible. Vali Lucifer was heir to the bloodline of Lucifer himself. As though that alone were insufficient, fate had also seen fit to place within him [Divine Dividing], one of the Thirteen Longinus, the sacred vessel containing the soul and power of the White Dragon Emperor.
Even Meruem, who rarely concerned himself with destiny, had to concede that if the universe were ever inclined to produce a chosen one, it would probably be the young man now standing before him.
Vali Lucifer, still encased from head to heel in the immaculate white armor of his Scale Mail, finally turned to face Meruem as he arrived. Meruem’s gaze swept across his peerage first. If anything had happened, it could only have occurred within the last few minutes. Ordinarily that would have been a reassuringly brief span of time. For beings who treated the speed of sound as little more than a leisurely pace, however, several minutes left ample opportunity for poor decisions.
Thankfully, everyone appeared to be in one piece.
Leonardo and Vali stood opposite one another with the unmistakable look of two young men silently trying to determine which of them would win a fight they had not yet started, while everyone else seemed equally committed to ensuring they never found out. Lavinia, to his mild amusement, was speaking comfortably with Vali, apparently having maintained a friendly relationship with him in this timeline as well. Some things, it seemed, transcended causality.
“We meet at last, Meruem Beleth,” Vali said, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of anticipation.
“You know me?” Meruem asked, genuinely surprised.
“I know every person worth knowing.”
…What kind of answer was that?
Then it clicked. Vali was a chunni. Meruem had almost forgotten. The boy collected dramatic one-liners the way dragons collected treasure, apparently under the sincere belief that every conversation ought to sound like the climax of an epic. The truly remarkable part was that he delivered them with such absolute conviction that one couldn’t even laugh without feeling vaguely guilty.
“Is that so?” Meruem snorted. “I suppose I should feel honored to have attracted the attention of this generation’s White Dragon Emperor. Although I’m not entirely sure what I did to deserve it.”
“Oh, I’ve heard plenty about you,” Vali replied with a faint sneer. “The way people talk, you’d think Lucifer himself had returned…The greatest devil since Sirzechs Lucifer and Ajuka Beelzebub… The youngest Ultimate-class in history. The self-proclaimed King. It was impossible not to notice you.”
That certainly wasn’t doing his vanity any favors. Meruem fought down the grin threatening to spread across his face. There were few things more gratifying than discovering your reputation had escaped the borders of your own nation.
“I’ve wanted to meet you for quite some time,” Vali continued. “I wanted to see whether the man everyone calls the greatest devil of this generation actually deserved the title.”
“And?” Meruem asked, unable to suppress a grin this time. “Did I live up to your expectations?”
The challenge hung in the air between them. Even without the unmistakable bloodlust rolling from the White Dragon Emperor, Meruem knew exactly where this conversation was headed. Ordinarily he would have welcomed it without hesitation. There were few things more enjoyable than proving someone else’s confidence had been misplaced.
Unfortunately, he had also died rather recently. That tended to encourage a healthier appreciation for risk. Still…
There was room for cautious optimism. If his memory served him correctly, the events of the original timeline were roughly two years away. The White Dragon Emperor standing before him was undoubtedly monstrous but wasn’t at the height of his legend. And that meant Meruem might actually be able to enjoy himself.
Bullying the weak and fleeing from the strong is a mantra one ought to live by.
“Let us find out, shall we?”
The pale blue wings of Vali’s Scale Mail flared behind him, and in the next instant he launched himself forward with enough force to crack the ground beneath his feet, his armored fist already drawn back as he crossed the distance between them and drove it toward Meruem’s skull with all the confidence of someone accustomed to watching opponents realize far too late that they had underestimated him.
Meruem raised an eyebrow.
…What is this?
Why is he so slow?
Calling it slow was perhaps unfair by ordinary standards, since Vali had already broken the sound barrier several times over and the pressure trailing behind him had split branches and carved a shallow trench through the earth. And yet Meruem’s eyes followed every detail with embarrassing ease.
He saw the minute shift of Vali’s shoulder before the punch, the tightening of the fingers beneath the white gauntlet, and even the faint compression of air gathering around the fist like everything was moving in slow motion. From Meruem’s perspective, the White Dragon Emperor was advancing through thick syrup, and the fist that should have struck before thought could catch up gave him enough time to consider several possible responses and dismiss most of them as needlessly cruel.
Then the reason occurred to him.
Of course!
The Vali he remembered had casually overwhelmed Kokabiel, moved too quickly for seasoned combatants to follow, and treated Ultimate-class opponents as warm-up exercises. The boy before him had yet to reach that point. He had the same absurd talent and the same Sacred Gear, but the years of battle and training required to turn those advantages into something truly monstrous still lay ahead of him. That explained the disappointment.
Vali’s fist reached the final few inches. Meruem raised one hand and shaped his fingers into a pistol, placing the tip of his index finger directly before the approaching knuckles.
“Bang.”
Invisible force erupted from the space between his fingers and Vali’s fist with a pressure that made the surrounding air collapse inward before exploding outward in a deafening ring. The White Dragon Emperor vanished in the opposite direction, his armored body becoming a streak of white light that tore through the forest and struck the nearest mountain hard enough to punch through its face. Stone burst from the far side in a cloud of dust and shattered rock as Vali continued onward without any visible loss of momentum, crossing the valley beyond and crashing through a second mountain, then a third, each impact leaving a perfectly brutal tunnel through several thousand tons of stone.
He finally descended toward the forest on the other side, ripped through the upper halves of several trees, bounced once across the ground, and struck the trunk of an ancient cedar with the graceless finality of an insect hitting glass. The tree bent nearly in half. Vali slid down the trunk and collapsed onto one knee.
Meruem kept his finger raised for another moment, staring into the distance. “Did I put too much into that?”
His sight crossed the intervening miles as easily as though Vali stood a few feet away. The white armor had endured, though several plates were cracked and the glow running through its lines had dimmed considerably. Vali was still conscious, which was impressive, and he was already trying to stand, which was either considerably more impressive or considerably more foolish. One gauntleted hand dug into the bark beside him as he forced his legs beneath his body, his knees trembling with the effort while fragments of stone and broken branches slid from the armor.
Meruem gave him credit for the attempt. Then Meruem vanished and reappeared several paces from Vali with his hands tucked casually behind his back, looking as fresh as he had before the exchange began.
“Oh, come now,” Meruem said. “Surely that wasn’t enough to put you down. I was promised the White Dragon Emperor, not a crippled wyvern.”
Vali lifted his head, his breathing harsh inside the helm. “Not bad,” he admitted. “For an insect.”
Meruem looked around at the three perforated mountains, the ruined forest, and the armor struggling to maintain its shape.
“Your standards for insects are very generous.”
“I will repay that blow in kind.”
“Bold words from someone currently struggling to stand on his own.”
Vali’s fingers tightened around the trunk, and then the energy surrounding him shifted.
Meruem’s amusement sharpened into interest as [Divine Dividing] activated, its power spreading from the point of contact and sinking into the forest through the web of roots beneath the soil. The effect moved with frightening speed. Vitality drained from the cedar beneath Vali’s hand and flowed into the white armor, then reached the trees around it, then those beyond them, every connected root carrying the Sacred Gear’s influence farther until the entire forest shuddered as one living body. Leaves browned and curled upon their branches. Trunks split as moisture abandoned them and the endless green canopy stretching across the valley faded into the brittle colors of drought within seconds.
The energy stolen from that vast living system poured into Vali. The cracks running across the Scale Mail began to seal as the dim lines etched into the armor gradually brightened. His trembling legs steadied beneath him as strength returned in a violent surge.
Meruem watched the process with genuine fascination.
The trees were linked beneath the earth, which allowed Vali to treat the forest as one continuous target once he established physical contact. It was an efficient interpretation of Divine Dividing, and the life force contained within vast wilderness was easily enough to restore what Meruem’s opening strike had taken from him. I didn’t know he could do that, Meruem thought.
“The environmentalists aren’t going to like that one bit,” Meruem observed with a grin. “Though I imagine they'll be even less pleased to learn that thousands of trees gave their lives in service of an endeavor with all the prospects of Sisyphus reaching the top of the hill.”
“Shut up! You got lucky because I let my guard down,” Vali snapped.
“Then allow me to demonstrate otherwise."
Vali surged forward again. The earth beneath him burst apart as his renewed strength carried him through the dead trees, his wings folding close to his back to reduce resistance while his open palm reached toward Meruem’s chest. This time his speed was considerably greater, and the air screamed around him as the power of [Divine Dividing] gathered in his hand, ready to halve Meruem’s strength the instant contact was made.
Meruem remained still.
Vali’s palm crossed the final yard and began to slow. At first the resistance was subtle, a slight drag against the armored fingers, though it multiplied with every inch until his arm appeared trapped within something denser than stone. The palm stopped several inches from Meruem’s chest, quivering frantically as Vali drove more force through his shoulder, his boots carving trenches into the ground while the invisible pressure surrounding Meruem refused to yield.
“The Sovereign of Pressure is such a versatile power, don’t you think?” Meruem asked his opponent with a smug smile. “I use it for offence, but it serves just as well as a defense. By wrapping myself in that invisible force, I create a barrier that nothing can break through. Well, nothing beneath my level, at any rate. Which, unfortunately for you, includes you..”
“Divide! Divide! Divide!”
Albion’s voice echoed from within the armor as the barrier weakened by half. The invisible defense thinned enough for Vali to move another fraction forward, his excitement sharpening as he realized the ability could target the pressure itself.
“Hmm? Not bad. Targeting the invisible force itself and trying to divide it,” Meruem said mockingly. “But that won’t get you very far. I can reinforce it faster than you can wear it down. If you want any chance of breaking through, you need to strike at the source itself.”
He released another wave of demonic power into the barrier. The pressure returned at full strength and forced Vali’s arm backward. Vali grunted and activated Divine Dividing again.
Meruem restored what had been removed. They repeated the exchange several times, Vali halving the barrier while Meruem replenished it faster than the Sacred Gear could erode it, until the absurdity of the effort became impossible to ignore.
“Shut up!”
“Youngsters these days… they never seem to listen to the advice of their elders.” Meruem sighed with theatrical disappointment.
Vali abandoned the attempt and leapt backward, landing several paces away with his arms raised defensively. Vali’s eyes remained fixed upon him through the narrow visor.
Meruem tilted his head. “By the way, don’t you think you’re focusing a little too much on me?”
A crimson magic circle appeared beside Vali’s head. His attention shifted toward it a fraction too late. The circle discharged a concentrated beam of fire that struck him from the side and carried him across the ground in a roaring flood of heat. Trees ignited before the flames even touched them, the air itself burning as the beam tore through the dead forest and drove Vali through trunk after trunk until he vanished inside a wall of smoke and embers.
Meruem watched the flames spread. The attack had been aimed to injure without killing, though it still contained enough power to reduce most High-class devils to ash. Vali had reacted at the final possible moment, activating [Divine Dividing] against the beam and cutting its output repeatedly before the full force could consume him. His reaction speed is very good, Meruem assessed. A fraction slower and Lavinia would have been forced to mourn a promising friend.
Vali emerged from the burning trees like a white comet.
The left side of his armor was scorched black, several plates glowing red from the heat. He drove a fist toward Meruem’s face, followed with an elbow, turned the miss into a spinning kick, and unleashed demonic power from his heel when Meruem slipped beyond his reach. Meruem slipped between the attacks with a grin.
Vali pursued him through the forest, each movement gaining speed as frustration sharpened his focus. His fists shattered trees whenever Meruem moved aside. Bursts of demonic energy erupted from his gauntlets, forcing Meruem to twist around them or redirect them with brief pulses of pressure, while the two of them moved through the ruined woodland in a blur of white armor and dark robes.
Still Vali Lucifer did not land a single blow.
Meruem ducked beneath a hook, turned sideways to avoid a thrusting palm, and stepped across Vali’s lead foot before the boy could complete another kick, forcing him to stumble through his own momentum.
“Your ability to divide things is absurdly powerful,” Meruem said as he moved beyond another strike. “One touch and you can reduce what took centuries to cultivate into a pale imitation of itself…And yet here you are, possessing such a gift and proving that an extraordinary weapon in the hands of the mediocre remains mediocre. What value is the power to divide anything if you can’t even manage the trivial prerequisite of laying a finger on your opponent? So far, all you’ve accomplished is dividing the empty air between us.”
Vali swung again, but Meruem bent backward just enough for the gauntlet to pass above the bridge of his nose, only for Vali’s palm to continue advancing another inch.
“Is this truly all the Vanishing Dragon amounts to? How many more times do you intend to repeat the same mistake before you realize the outcome isn’t changing? Five? Fifty? A thousand?” He sighed, almost weary. “I expected better of you. Some evidence that the one chosen to wield Albion possessed a mind worthy of such a relic…Or perhaps that’s the problem? You’ve spent so long relying on your Sacred Gear that you’ve forgotten where your own ability ends and its begins. Strip Albion away and what remains? Would there be anything left to fear? Anything left that could honestly call itself exceptional?”
His red eyes met Vali’s without the slightest trace of concern. “I had heard stories about the White Dragon Emperor of legend - a monster that momentarily forced a truce between the three great factions. Imagine my disappointment when I discovered that the legendary Vanishing Dragon’s host is little more than a child swinging a divine weapon he scarcely understands. Your Sacred Gear is magnificent, Vali. You, unfortunately, are not.”
“Says the man who’s been doing his absolute best to run away!” Vali huffed. “Stop running and fight me! Coward!”
“Well, that’s because I’m trying to think of a way to subdue you without actually hurting you,” Meruem replied calmly. “I wouldn’t want to make Lavinia sad, after all. She’s been rather helpful these past few days, and I would hate to repay that kindness by leaving her upset.”
“As if you could ever harm me!”
Vali roared and unleashed a barrage of punches, each one faster than the last as he halved the space between them in small increments, forcing Meruem to adjust his rhythm for the first time. The White Dragon Emperor suddenly appeared closer than his movement should have allowed, his open palm grazing the edge of Meruem’s sleeve before Meruem twisted away.
That was close.
The burst of speed had been deceptive because Vali had divided the distance between them, removing the space itself until his hand arrived ahead of the movement Meruem expected.
How clever.
Vali noticed the shift in his expression and pressed harder, repeatedly shortening the distance while attacking from changing angles. His fist appeared beside Meruem’s temple, then his knee rose toward Meruem’s ribs, then an armored hand reached from behind after Vali folded space around his own movement. For several seconds the White Dragon Emperor became genuinely difficult to track, his position changing in abrupt leaps that ignored the path between one point and another.
Meruem continued to evade him with ease. The difference between them was simply too great for it to go any other way.
There is no reason to continue this little farce any longer. Vali Lucifer was not yet at the level where he could give me a genuine challenge.
Meruem moved. One moment Meruem stood beyond the reach of his hand, and the next a knee drove into his stomach with enough force to fold the Scale Mail inward and empty his lungs in a single broken gasp. The impact lifted him from the ground.
Before Vali could process the pain, Meruem planted his right hand upon the top of the white helmet and used the boy’s head as the base of a one-handed handstand, his body rising vertically above him with casual balance.
Vali’s wings flared as he tried to escape.
Meruem brought both knees down. The strike crashed into the armored face with the accumulated force of his descending body and a concentrated wave of pressure released at the exact moment of impact. Vali hit the earth like a meteor. The ground caved beneath him, the shockwave spreading outward in a perfect circle that uprooted trees, extinguished nearby flames, and hurled boulders through the air. Soil and stone collapsed beneath the White Dragon Emperor as he was driven deeper, carving a vertical shaft through the earth until the force finally dispersed several hundred feet below the surface.
The crater above him stretched nearly a hundred feet across. Meruem was standing at its edge for a moment, looking down through the settling dust, then stepped into the crater and descended the broken slope at an unhurried pace.
At its center lay Vali Lucifer. The Scale Mail flickered across his body, its white plates struggling to maintain their form before dissolving into fragments of pale light. Beneath the vanished armor was a silver-haired boy whose face was bloodied and whose chest rose in shallow, painful breaths. His fingers twitched against the stone. One arm shifted by less than an inch before falling still again.
He was still conscious. Meruem found that genuinely impressive.
“You are a tenacious creature,” he said as he approached. “Most people would have taken the hint somewhere around the second mountain. But somehow, you’re still conscious. I’ll give you credit for that. Though I imagine your armour took the majority of the punishment.”
Vali’s lips moved.
Meruem crouched beside him. “What was that?”
“…Tis but a scratch.”
Meruem stared at him, then laughed despite himself. “A scratch? Really? You can’t even move your fingers… but yes, let’s call it a scratch.”
Vali attempted to raise one hand, managed a faint tremor, and let it fall.
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves several things, though I admire your commitment to denying all of them.”
Meruem studied him with open curiosity. The boy’s demonic aura had fallen to a fraction of its previous strength, Albion’s presence had quieted within him, and his body was carrying enough trauma to keep a team of healers occupied for hours. Even then, his eyes still held defiance. No fear or sign that the humiliating difference between them had diminished his belief in what he would eventually become.
“What an interesting specimen you are,” Meruem murmured. “A half-devil born with one of the Thirteen Longinus and chosen as the host of Albion, all of that talent gathered into one body. No wonder you’re so arrogant.”
The fire in those silver eyes had not diminished in the slightest. Even battered, broken, and barely capable of moving, Vali was still searching for a way to win. It was the peculiar madness shared by those born for battle, the instinctive refusal to accept defeat as a conclusion, seeing it only as another obstacle to overcome. It was a look Meruem knew intimately. He had seen it in the mirror often enough.
Leaving Vali alive would not discourage him. Quite the opposite. Meruem knew his type all too well. This defeat would become fuel. The White Dragon Emperor would bury himself in training, seek stronger opponents, push Divine Dividing to new heights, and one day return convinced that this time would be different. Then, after losing again, he would simply repeat the process. Such men treated failure as whetstones rather than walls.
Unfortunately, killing him was equally undesirable. The moment Vali died, Azazel’s attention would shift from curiosity to hostility, and Meruem had little interest in provoking one of the strongest leaders in the world before it became necessary. Which meant he had little choice but to let the boy live.
Wonderful! He thought sarcastically.
In a few years he would likely have both heavenly reptiles treating him as the summit they were destined to climb. Meruem would wager a considerable sum that Tiamat was already grooming Issei Hyoudou into another challenger. Apparently becoming strong came with the delightful side effect of attracting every battle addict within a thousand miles.
Still…
So I am simply supposed to let him walk away?
The boy had attacked him without provocation, challenged him in broad daylight, and behaved as though Meruem existed solely to satisfy his thirst for battle. Was Meruem expected to tolerate that because killing him happened to be politically inconvenient? Was he to swallow the insult simply because Azazel might take offense? The very notion left a bitter taste in his mouth. A king who accepted such treatment without consequence invited others to imitate it. Today it was Vali Lucifer. Tomorrow it would be every ambitious fool convinced that Meruem Beleth could be challenged without cost.
No.
That was intolerable.
In a world governed by the simple principle that might makes right, reputation was every bit as valuable as strength. Power earned respect only so long as others believed you were willing to use it, and that belief had to be cultivated with care and defended with even greater vigilance. The moment people began to think they could provoke you without consequence, every ambitious fool would inevitably decide to test the limits of your patience. Authority was built upon certainty. They had to know, beyond any doubt, that laying a hand on you would carry a price.
Footsteps landed behind him. Meruem glanced over his shoulder to find his peerage gathered at the edge of the crater, Lavinia among them. Her eyes never left Vali, and the concern written across her face settled the matter almost immediately.
There was a time for overwhelming brutality, but there was also a time for restraint.
Crippling Vali would satisfy Meruem’s pride, but it would cost him Lavinia’s goodwill, and that was an exchange of questionable value. His public execution of Dimora Bael had already earned him Sirzechs Lucifer’s displeasure. Who knows what permanently maiming a direct descendant of Lucifer himself would accomplish? Despite Rizevim not caring, the vast majority of hell saw the line of Lucifer as gods.
No.
Vali’s humiliation would have to suffice for now. After today, the White Dragon Emperor would remember exactly what it felt like to be utterly outclassed, and when the inevitable rematch came, as Meruem had little doubt it would, no one could accuse him of excessive force if he chose to be far less merciful the second time.
“Oh, Vali,” Lavinia sighed as she knelt beside the unconscious boy, gently brushing a few strands of silver hair away from his face. “Your lust for battle is going to be the death of you one day.” She looked up at Meruem, looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry he attacked you without any provocation… and thank you for holding back.”
“Attacking a Pillar King is tantamount to attacking his entire house,” Meruem replied evenly. “Ordinarily, that’s an offense punishable by death. I spared him for your sake.”
The apology in her eyes deepened. Good. Guilt, when genuine, was a remarkably useful currency.
“I know," Lavinia said earnestly. “And I’m grateful for that. I owe you one.”
“Owing a debt to a devil?” Meruem grinned. “Careful. You may find I’m morally obligated to collect.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I would expect nothing less. Though I should warn you, I still have the right to refuse if your demands become unreasonable.”
“A pity.” Meruem chuckled. “In that case, how about becoming part of my peerage instead? I can offer you wealth beyond imagining, libraries of knowledge gathered over millennia, teachers that most magicians could only dream of meeting, and enough resources to pursue any ambition you might have.”
Lavinia lowered her eyes for a moment before shaking her head.
“Thank you. Truly.” She inclined her head respectfully. “I’m honored by the offer, but I can’t become a devil…At least not yet. There are still too many questions about myself that are unanswered, and there are truths I need to uncover before I choose where I belong.” She met his gaze once more, offering him an apologetic smile. “Perhaps… one day I may give you a different answer. But Today… I’m afraid that answer has to be no.”
Meruem had expected as much. “Then become my contracted magician. You’ll enjoy many of the same benefits, and in return I’ll help you uncover the truth behind the Wizards of Oz.”
Lavinia’s expression brightened almost immediately.
“I’d like that,” she said sincerely. “You’ve helped us more than I can ever properly repay. Without you, I honestly don’t know whether any of us would have survived. This is the least I can do.”
“Perfect!”
Meruem found the arrangement entirely satisfactory. Convincing Lavinia to join his peerage had never been a question of if it would happen, only when it would happen, and becoming his contracted magician was simply the first step along that road.
…
“Master, who was that boy?” Tobio asked after Lavinia had departed, carrying the unconscious Vali with her.
With the Agency destroyed, there was little reason for her to remain. They had already completed the ritual that formally established her as his contracted magician, and agreed to meet again at a later date, when Meruem would share everything he knew about the Wizards of Oz and her master, Glenda.
“He’s a half-devil descended from Lucifer Morningstar himself,” Meruem explained. “He’s also the wielder of one of the Thirteen Longinus. His lineage is a closely guarded secret, so I’d appreciate it if none of you repeated it. I’d rather not attract any unnecessary attention. As for Vali himself… keep an eye on him in the future. I have a feeling he’ll become a recurring nuisance.”
“Some people are born with a silver spoon shoved so far up their ass they could use it to stir their brains, nya~” Kuroka grumbled. “Apparently being a descendant of Lucifer wasn’t enough. He just had to be born with a Longinus too. Unfair! Unfair!”
“Yea, tell me about it,” Meruem replied.
The more he thought about it, the more Vali reminded him of the classic fanfiction protagonist. Silver hair. Crimson eyes. Descendant of the legendary progenitor of devilkind. Bearer of one of the Thirteen Longinus. Tragic childhood. An obsessive drive to surpass everyone around him. The only thing he lacked was a mysterious prophecy declaring him the chosen one.
Kuroka slowly turned toward Meruem. “In case it wasn’t clear,” she said dryly, “you’re one of those assholes born with a silver spoon shoved up your ass.”
“…You’re not wrong,” he admitted.
They made their way into the Utsusemi Agency’s hideout. The moment Meruem stepped inside, the thick metallic scent of blood filled his lungs. The sprawling underground complex had become a slaughterhouse. Blood coated the floors, walls, and shattered equipment in dark crimson streaks, while severed limbs and mangled corpses lay scattered throughout the corridors. Most belonged to the Agency’s human researchers, though the dead also included youkai and low-class Fallen Angels. Whatever had passed through this place had left behind a scene that resembled the aftermath of a ravenous beast’s feast, a carnival of carnage.
“Where are your schoolmates?” Meruem asked, glancing at Tobio.
He had to admit, the boy was remarkably calm for someone surrounded by the aftermath of wholesale slaughter, much of which he and Rossweisse had personally inflicted. Tobio’s expression remained almost unnervingly calm, his eyes moving over the corpses with the same detached indifference one might reserve for discarded rubble. Human morality, Meruem reflected, possessed a remarkable degree of flexibility. Once convinced another deserved death, people became astonishingly efficient at justifying whatever followed.
“They’re on the upper floor,” Tobio answered evenly. “We destroyed the Utsusemi creatures bonded to them and knocked the students unconscious while waiting for your arrival… W-we also…”
He hesitated struggling to get the word out of his throat. Meruem turned toward Rossweisse, whose expression remained as composed as ever.
“We also discovered Kouki Samejima’s body, Master,” she reported. “Judging by the equipment surrounding him, the Agency intended to conduct experiments on him.”
“Where is he?” Meruem asked immediately. “Take me there first.”
That was unexpectedly good news. He had deliberately kept Valerie’s abilities from Tobio. The fewer people who knew about the [Sephiroth Graal], the better, especially when Tobio spent so much time around Lavinia. He trusted the boy’s intentions, but trusting someone not to accidentally reveal a secret and trusting them with the secret itself were two entirely different matters.
Of course, Lavinia had almost certainly begun piecing things together after watching him die with her own eyes only to find him alive again days later. Meruem simply hadn’t seen any reason to satisfy her curiosity. At the time, she had been little more than a capable stranger affiliated with another faction, and volunteering the existence of the Graal to someone in that position would have bordered on idiocy.
Things were different now. A contracted magician was not quite family, but she had at least ceased being a potential enemy.
They arrived at the uppermost floor, where rows upon rows of unconscious students lay scattered throughout the vast chamber. They were all alive, merely unconscious after having been separated from the Utsusemi creatures bonded to them.
Only one body in the room remained still. Raised upon a stone dais at the chamber’s center lay Kouki Samejima. Meruem walked toward him in silence before kneeling beside the corpse. His gaze lingered upon the wound for only a moment before its nature became obvious. A gaping hole had been torn clean through Kouki’s chest where his heart should have been.
“Valerie,” Meruem said, turning toward his bishop. “Can you bring him back?”
Valerie met his gaze and nodded with quiet determination before stepping onto the dais.
From what Meruem remembered of the [Sephiroth Graal] from his previous life, its power of resurrection bordered upon the miraculous. Its limits, if they existed at all, were remarkably difficult to define. Rizevim had once restored the Evil Dragons centuries after their extinction, and even Masaomi Yaegaki had returned from death through its power. Kouki’s body had been dead for only a matter of days, so it should technically be possible to resurrect him.
The only uncertainty lay with devil physiology. Unlike humans, a devil’s soul naturally dispersed after death. Whether the Graal could gather together what had already begun dissolving was something Meruem had never had the opportunity to verify.
Valerie placed one hand gently upon Kouki’s forehead and closed her eyes. A vast current of emerald light poured from her body into the corpse beneath her hand, filling the chamber with a warm radiance that seemed wholly out of place amidst so much death. Kouki’s body remained motionless.
Valerie, however, did not. Her breathing became ragged as the [Sephiroth Graal] demanded its due. Her shoulders trembled. Thin streams of blood trickled from her nose before another escaped from one ear, staining her pale hair crimson.
Meruem frowned.
The [Sephiroth Graal] never granted miracles freely. Each resurrection forced its wielder to peer deeper into the boundary separating life from death, to glimpse principles that no mortal mind had ever been meant to comprehend. That forbidden knowledge accumulated with every use, pressing itself upon the soul until the mind could no longer distinguish revelation from madness. Every known wielder of the Graal had eventually lost themselves, because human reason simply could not contain truths that belonged to the divine.
And he had placed an extraordinary burden upon Valerie. Within the span of little more than a week she had resurrected him, restored Kuroka, reshaped countless souls, and now attempted to reclaim yet another life from death. According to Valerie, resurrection demanded the greatest price of all. Meruem silently resolved that this would not become routine. A miracle ceased being a blessing the moment it consumed the one performing it.
Kouki’s body convulsed suddenly. His back arched violently as air rushed into lungs that had not breathed for days. He inhaled sharply, every muscle tensing as instinct seized control, and before panic could drive him into attacking the nearest person, Meruem stepped forward and caught him firmly by the shoulder.
“Calm down, Kouki,” Meruem said evenly. “You’re among friends.”
Kouki froze, still breathing heavily as bewilderment, disbelief, and the lingering terror of death slowly gave way to confused recognition.
Just as Kouki drew his first breath, Valerie’s strength finally gave out. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she began to collapse, though Meruem caught her before she could reach the floor. Without the slightest effort, he slipped one arm beneath her legs and the other around her back, lifting her gently into a princess carry.
“Well done, Valerie,” Meruem said softly. “You saved Kouki. You can rest now.”
“…B-but… I still have… to heal…” Valerie murmured weakly, her eyelids already beginning to droop. The resurrection had drained every last ounce of strength from her.
“Don’t worry about the others,” Meruem reassured her. “They’ll still be here after you’ve rested.”
The students’ injuries from the Agency’s experiments would require careful treatment. The artificial Sacred Gears fused to their souls could not simply be torn away without causing irreparable damage, and Valerie was the only person capable of healing them properly.
That realization was beginning to trouble him. He had come to rely on Valerie’s miracles far more than was healthy, especially when each miracle demanded such a steep price. It was not a sustainable arrangement. The [Sephiroth Graal] was too valuable, and Valerie herself far too important, to be worked to the point of collapse every time someone needed saving. Healing magic was frustratingly rare in this world, but Meruem knew of at least one individual whose talent in that field bordered upon the miraculous.
Perhaps it was time to recruit another healer. If nothing else, Valerie deserved someone to share the burden.
“What… happened?” Kouki asked between ragged breaths, looking around the chamber in growing confusion. “Where… where are we?”
Meruem looked down at him with a grin.
“Rejoice, Kouki Samejima,” he proclaimed. “Death has released its hold upon you, and you have been granted a second breath. Rise once more, for you have returned from the other side.”
AN: And with that, this arc comes to an end. The next chapter will be an interlude where we take a look at how the various affected parties react to these new developments.
Also, I would like to point out that Meruem did not cripple Vali despite very much wanting to. He managed to restrain his more... enthusiastic impulses this time. Clearly, the Dimora debacle left some valuable lessons behind. Character development, everyone! The man is learning. Slowly. Very slowly. But progress is progress.
Anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts on the arc as a whole. What did you enjoy? What do you think could have been handled better? Any feedback is welcome.