POV: Haruki
"I didn't think you'd contact me so quickly," said a deep, powerful voice.
I looked up from where I sat. The tall, dark man approached with unhurried steps. Even in modern clothes and a faintly amused expression, the first son of Adam could not be mistaken for an ordinary man. Seeing him like this still felt unreal, an ancient figure spoken of in myth and legends now casually inhabiting the world of men.
"Neither did I," I said, smiling faintly. "But things rarely go as planned."
"So it would seem," he said, taking the seat opposite me.
"You've adjusted well to this era," I remarked, wondering how to begin explaining my purpose.
"I am quite adaptive," he said calmly. "It comes with living for so long. Humans rarely change greatly."
"Surely we have progressed in some way?" I said, slightly offended by the implication.
"Oh, most certainly," he replied with quiet amusement. "You don't have many kings anymore."
"A bit cynical, don't you think?"
"Perhaps," he said. "But there's a pattern that persists. Nobody wants to be here, and nobody wants to leave."
I opened my mouth to retort, then decided against it.
"What can I do for you, Haruki?" he said, folding his hands. "I doubt you came all this way to ask whether humans can change."
I tried to look past him, though his sheer presence made everything behind him seem dim. Should I ask directly for his help, or should I make an offer first? I hesitated, then forced myself to speak.
"I am afraid not," I said. "I came to ask for your assistance on a spell I am creating. Naturally, I did not come empty handed."
Cain studied me in silence for a moment, his expression unreadable.
"You don't ask for help often, do you?" he said, breaking the silence.
Is that what I'm doing, asking for help and failing?
"It's humiliating, begging for help," I said honestly. "I don't like relying on charity."
"if you find you can't help yourself," he said, tone even but serious. "There's no shame in asking others for help."
Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one who failed to achieve anything on his own, who always had to depend on others.
"What spell do you need help for?" he said, noticing my silence .
"A sacrificial type of magic," I replied. "Specifically, a sacrifice involving an inanimate object."
"Oh?" His eyes sharpened, interest piqued. "Does it have any magical properties?"
"Yes," I said. "The problem is managing the overflow of energy produced by the object's significance."
"I will need more details than that," he said. "And I'll need to see your spell before I can offer anything useful."
I had expected this, one way or another Cain will need to know the details of my plan or at the very least enough to satisfy him.
"Very well," I said.
So I explained to him my thought process, my plans, my goals. I told him of Sacramentum and how it worked, the peculiar ability that had defined my existence. He listened, impassive, and when I finally finished, he threw his head back and laughed.
"You are mad," he said with amusement. "Do you even understand the danger of what you are planning?"
"I do," I answered firmly.
"Oh, I don't think you do," he said, his tone losing its humor. "Even with my aid, it is very risky. If anything goes wrong, you will either die or become a corrupted beast."
"Then so be it," I said quietly, then smiled. "Besides, you already said that I am mad."
"So I did," he said, leaning back. "Still, l'm not eager to help you commit suicide."
"Be not hasty in refusing me so quickly," I said calmly. "Whether you help me or not is up to you, but at least hear my offer. You may yet change your mind."
"Not empty handed, was it?" he said idly. "Go on then. What do you offer?"
"A promise," I said.
"A promise of what?" His promise carried faint amusement again.
"Of death," I replied.
He laughed, a deep and boisterous laughter.
"You are bold, I'll grant you that," he said. "Few would offer death in exchange for aid. And how do you intend to keep that promise? To undo the curse of God himself?"
"It's simple," I said with confidence I didn't feel. "I will take over the empty throne and become God. The system of heaven is bound to every human soul. You are still a man, Cain. Once I take over his throne then I should be able to undo his curse as well. "
"Become god," he repeated, laughing again. "Many have dreamt of that. Many mightier and wiser than thee. What makes you think you will succeed when many like you have failed?"
"There are no men like me," I said, meeting his eyes.
"Oh, there are always men like you," he said indifferently. "The only special thing about you is that you are mad enough to ignore survival in pursuit of that goal."
"That may be so," I admitted. "But if you aid me in my ritual, then my chance of success increases, and by that point, my dream of taking God's place won't remain just a dream."
If the ritual succeeds, the surge of power will be so vast that even the mighty in the Seventh Heaven will have no choice but to acknowledge me.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked suddenly.
"What do you mean?" I said.
"Why are you so intent on self-destruction?" His tone hardened. "Even with my aid, the success rate of the ritual remains abysmally low. The sheer quantity of energy involved is too great to be contained within a single vessel. The best case is that your soul simply ceases to exist- obliterated completely, with no reincarnation, or going to Heaven. The worst outcome is far darker. And believe me, death would be a mercy."
"Well then," I said dryly. "we'd better make sure it succeeds."
"You didn't answer my question," he pressed. "What drives you to risk everything? It can't be all about power."
"My sister was taken by powerful people," I said. "I need to be strong enough to rescue her and protect her, if it comes to that."
"Familial love, huh?" he murmured, almost wistfully. "How nostalgic. But that's not all, is it? You're hiding something. Why do you truly wish to become God?"
It seems he really wants the answer.
"Because humans are alone," I said. "The barrier that separates the material from the magical will fall in a decade at most. By then the creatures of nightmare will return once more and terrorize all the defenseless and the weak. And perhaps the one being who may care enough to protect them is dead. What then? Should we not ourselves become gods so that even the creatures of terror will think before coming to feed on us? There you have it. I want to make every man and woman and child strong enough to defend himself and those dear to them. At the very least, I want them to have the opportunity to become strong."
He looked at me, first with shock, then dawning realization, and finally with a slow smile.
"You wish to give every human magic," he said finally.
"Yes," I replied. "The main weakness humans have to the supernatural is the lack of access to magic. With direct access to God's system, I will be able to affect the souls of every human. Alter it so that they can use magic."
"You dream big," he said. "To manipulate souls on that scale, across all mankind, would require proficiency in soul magic at the level of a God-King, or–"
"I have the Sephiroth Graal," I interrupted him.
The moment I laid my eyes on Valerie, I knew I had struck a true jackpot. The ability to manipulate and even create souls at such a profound level held an unimaginable promise, one brimming with potential I have no intention of squandering. Magic and humanity have always shared a curious, almost paradoxical relationship. It is as though the universe itself set a boundary between us and the deeper mysteries that permeate existence. Humans are only faintly attuned to magic compared to other races, and true magic users among us are exceedingly rare. The talent requires a singular resonance between the physical body and the soul, a delicate harmony few ever possess.
Ordinarily, humans cannot endure the direct flow of magic within their bodies. Our nature is too deeply rooted in the material realm, too rigid to withstand such ethereal forces. Yet there exist certain rare individuals whose very being aligns with magic, whose essence is innately compatible with it. Even then, these fortunate few must rely on formulae, incantations, and structured magical systems to bring about their desired effects, rather than shaping reality through sheer imagination as the devils can.
Worse still, the gift is neither hereditary nor consistent. The child of a powerful sorcerer is just as likely to be born without even the faintest trace of magical connection as any ordinary human. Countless tales tell of great magi whose descendants possessed no spark at all. Some, however, acquire magic not through birth but through the intervention of higher powers, gods, or other entities who bestow fragments of their essence upon chosen mortals.
This is why so many turn to pacts with devils and similar beings, trading away their humanity in exchange for the one thing they cannot attain alone: access to magic. In truth, magic exists within every living thing, flowing unseen through the fabric of existence. It is much like the Force from Star Wars; it permeates all life, yet only a rare few possess the capacity to touch it, to bend it, to make it their own.
Cain looked at me impressed. "I suppose that makes it easier," he said. "And what will you use as the source to kickstart everything? A spark if you will. You will need an untold amount of magical energy to achieve that."
"I will draw it directly from the source," I said. "From the origin of all things."
"The dimensional gap," he murmured. "Then another problem arises, but I suppose if you reach the power you seek, you could negotiate with the Dreamer above all worlds and the Self-Devourer."
I smiled faintly. There was no need to tell him about the possibility of negotiating with Ophis long before that.
"I see," he said quietly.
"So, will you aid me or not?" I said calmly.
"Are you sure this is the course you want to take?" he asked. Seeing my nod, he continued. "Very well. I will help you with this plan of yours, on the condition that you keep your promise to end my life."
I exhaled, relieved. "Shall I swear an oath to seal our deal?" I asked.
"No, that won't be necessary," he said. "But I wonder if you will be happy once humanity gains access to magic. You are not so naive and hopeful to not see the bottomless potential for evil."
"It has happened before," I said softly. "A time when much of humanity could use magic, before the gods decided that the world needed cleansing. Man at his zenith with magic and craft."
"I was there," he said. "Howeevr then, not all of humanity had magic, in fact the majority did have the ability to do so. And yes, men were mighty and glorious then, but also at the height of their depravity and monstrosity. No creature can be so artistically cruel as man."
It was strange to hear my own words to Asia echoed back at me.
"Every creature has in them to be cruel," I said. "Or kind."
"Aye," he said. "You can find cruelty in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil that can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend it."
"Even still," I said firmly. "I will take that leap of faith."
"A leap of faith?" he repeated.
"Yes," I answered. "faith in humanity's ability to change for the better."
—-----------------------------------------
I left my talk with Cain in high spirits. I had thought long and hard about how I might convince him to help me. Discovering his desire to die had not been difficult; one only needed to consider the length of his existence and speak with him for a few moments to realize that this man lived in a state of quiet despair, sustained only by habit and burdened by disillusionment. He yearns for rest yet sees no path to it. So I offered him the one thing he seeks but cannot reach on his own.
I pity him, though I am grateful for his cooperation, for I know of no one else who could aid me. I doubt even Sirzechs would support my goal of granting power to humanity. Many who were once human, such as MacGregor Mathers, are content with the current order, laboring to reform the system from within. They fear anything that might truly disrupt it, too accustomed to the endless cruelty inflicted upon the defenseless to imagine another way. They do not grasp the scale of the madness that will descend when the worlds converge.
It is strange how easily the world accepts its own horror once it has grown accustomed to it. Every myth turned out to be true, every god, every monster, every story whispered to frighten children. The Greeks and their capricious gods, the Norse and their endless wars, the Egyptians, the angels and the demons, all of them real, all of them still scheming in their own corners of existence. And humanity, for all its arrogance and invention, remains the one race denied access to magic, the one race left bare before the wolves.
Perhaps it was a mercy that the God of the Bible died, though I cannot help but wonder if He foresaw the slow decay that would follow. The barrier He built between the magical and the material weakens with each passing year, and when it finally collapses, the worlds will converge, and the creatures of nightmare will crawl once again from the dark to feed on what they were once denied.
The devils will tell you they offer salvation. They will say they saved humanity from extinction by granting a few chosen souls a place among them, but what they truly created was a refined form of slavery. The Evil Pieces were not instruments of mercy, they were chains gilded with promises. To be reincarnated as a devil is to be stripped of choice. Consent is a technicality. Death is no escape from service. If a high-class devil wishes it, he can kill you and raise your corpse to serve his will. And if you resist, if you turn stray, you become a monster to be hunted, as if the fault were yours and not the system that broke you.
It is easy for devils to speak of loyalty when they never had to earn it. It is easy to preach freedom when one is born to command. They tell their servants they can rise, that they may one day form their own peerage, but a gilded cage is still a cage, and a slave allowed to command other slaves is not free. Even their kindness reeks of ownership.
I have seen how they speak of the lower classes, how they speak of reincarnated devils- lesser beings, tools, property. A civilization built on hierarchy and indulgence, sustained by the suffering of those beneath them. The irony is almost impressive. They play at nobility, at virtue, yet they are worse than the gods they claim to oppose. The Greeks raped and murdered and called it divine will, the yokai devoured men and named it nature, and the devils enslaved them and called it order. Humanity has always been the feast that sustains them all.
Perhaps that is why I cannot bring myself to accept this world as it is. Even as a devil, I remain human in spirit. I have seen enough to know that humanity is not good. We are cruel, vain, selfish, and endlessly stupid. But at least our evil is our own. The monsters of myth take what they want because they can, and no one stops them. The devils do the same but smile while doing it. And when the barrier falls, all of them will return, gods without restraint, monsters without laws, predators without fear. Humanity will be left naked again, as it was in the beginning.
I do not believe in salvation. I do not believe in divine purpose. But I do believe that helplessness is the purest form of damnation. If we are to be destroyed, let it be on equal footing. That is why I must act. I do not seek to make humans pure or righteous or wise. I only want them to have a chance to stand against the things that hunt them. The Hero Faction understands that much, even if their methods are blind and brutal. Power without compassion is tyranny, but compassion without power is suicide.
The gods will not protect us. They never have. The devils will not protect us. They only protect what belongs to them. The angels will debate morality while the world burns. So it must be us. I will make it so that every human has the means to defend themselves, that every man, woman, and child will have the power to resist. No more heroes, no more saviors, no more dependence on divine pity. Just humanity, armed with its own strength.
I know what I am doing is dangerous. I know the cost. I know that I might die or lose everything that still remains of me. But courage, I think, is not the absence of fear. It is constancy. To hold fast even when the world demands surrender. A coward always betrays himself first, and after that, all other betrayals come easily. I will not abandon what I am for comfort. I will not lie to myself with dreams of peace while the world prepares for slaughter.
Those out there are not myths anymore. They are real. And if humanity remains as it is, unarmed and divided, then children will grow up fearing the dark again, with no promise that anyone will protect them. That, above all else, I cannot allow. If I must become a monster to give humanity the chance to fight, then so be it. Better a world of armed sinners than one of defenseless saints.
I arrived just outside my home. I could have easily teleported inside, but that would have been inconsiderate. Two girls lived here, and appearing in the middle of the living room unannounced would have been a complete disregard for their privacy. It was better to enter like a civilized person. After all, knocking before entering a room was basic courtesy.
Knock. Knock.
A few seconds passed before the door opened, revealing Ravel dressed in a maid outfit that could only have been designed by someone with questionable taste. The skirt was short enough to make movement a logistical hazard, and her cleavage was far too generously displayed. I raised an eyebrow but decided against commenting. I had a ritual to plan and neither the time nor patience to lecture a young girl about modesty.
"Welcome home, master," she said, bowing her head with practiced formality.
I nodded and began removing my shoes and coat, which she promptly took and hung on the rack. Still so committed to her self-appointed role as my maid. From the living room, laughter echoed, Asia's unmistakable, warm laughter, accompanied by another voice I couldn't immediately identify.
Before Ravel could explain, I walked past her and into the living room. There, I found Asia laughing heartily with a dark-haired woman in a bright pink magical girl outfit.
"I am sorry for not informing you, sir," said Ravel quickly from behind me. "I could not reach you. Lady Serafall came earlier today and wished to meet you. She has been waiting since morning."
I glanced at the clock. Ten o'clock in the evening. She had been here the entire day, apparently. I had always assumed Satans had busier schedules.
I turned my attention to the Leviathan. Serafall was in the middle of an animated discussion with Asia about magical girls, her tone lively and unguarded. She seemed genuinely delighted, and Asia, being Asia, was likely the easiest person in the world to talk to. Her sincerity had that effect on people.
They both noticed me soon enough.
"Oh, Haruki-kun, you're back," said Asia, her face lighting up with her usual warmth. "We've been waiting for you. Oh, by the way, this is Levi-tan! She's a Satan from the Underworld. She wanted to talk to you. I hope it wasn't rude of me to just introduce you like that."
She glanced apologetically at Serafall.
"Oh, nonsense, Asia-chan☆," Serafall said cheerfully. "That was brilliant☆ It's always better when a new character is introduced by an already known one. It creates hype☆"
Then she turned to me with a bright smile that would have fit better on a stage than in my living room. "Nice to meet you☆ I'm the Maou Serafall Leviathan☆ Call me Levia-tan☆ We met at Mil-tan's birthday party, remember?"
Quite hard to forget a Satan, especially the foreign affairs minister of the Underworld. Though the last time I'd seen her, she was dressed formally, not... whatever this was. Her current attire was certainly memorable. Still, everyone had their own hobbies, and I had long stopped questioning the eccentricities of devils.
"A pleasure," I said politely. "How may I help you?"
My tone came out a little sharper than I intended. Fatigue had settled in hours ago, and I had not expected visitors, let alone one of the Maou.
Serafall clasped her hands together, eyes gleaming. "Wanna go on an adventure to the Norse pantheon with me☆?"
I blinked once.
Huh?
AN: So this chapter was mostly an informative one. it finally lays out Haruki's plans and how he intends to achieve them. The concept of awakening humanity to use magic is something I honestly haven't seen done in fanfics before. Even the ones that lean toward human supremacy or similar themes rarely go as far as simply giving every human access to magic. Think about it, if every human could use magic, devils or other monsters mistreating humans would become a lot less of a concern. Humans are frighteningly adaptable; survival is what we do best. Of course, the ability to wield magic would be a complete game-changer, and even Haruki himself doesn't fully understand the long-term consequences of what he's doing. There'll be chaos, probably anarchy, but like they say, the market regulates itself.
Anyway, what do you guys think he plans to sacrifice? I've been dropping hints about it for the last twenty chapters or so.