"You've become quite a dull man, my student, Cao Cao."
The words froze everyone's thoughts.
All eyes turned to the Hero Faction's leader.
"No way—Professor, you taught Cao Cao in life? That's not in Conan Doyle's novels… Is it in that world's records?"
"No, that's not it. The Cao Cao standing there became the Heroic Spirit before us. A Servant, like me. Our classes seem to overlap, though I'm not thrilled to be honored this way. And don't mention that name in my presence."
The bandaged man—Servant Archer, Cao Cao—didn't deny it, merely shrugging. His demeanor showed no surprise, as if the old gentleman's deduction was expected. And it likely was.
"Professor, brilliant as always. I'm the pathetic end of that fool over there. Summoned as an Archer by the King of Magecraft Solomon—not the Solomon Goetia knows, mind you."
Cao Cao was the most shocked.
"My… future self?"
Beyond his future self becoming a Heroic Spirit, he was baffled that this version was trying to kill them. The killing intent was too raw to be merely Solomon's orders.
"Thank you. For clarity, I'll call you Archer. What I don't understand is how you became a Heroic Spirit. This world has no Throne of Heroes—that's the conclusion I reached with the Nine Pillars of Insight. Instead, we have ascended gods like Heracles or reincarnated saints like Jeanne. Did you somehow cross to that world?"
"One correction: I'm not a Heroic Spirit. I'm a cleaner contracted with the world—not this one, but yours. Solomon said this era makes it easier for our worlds to connect. That's why that world reached out to me."
"That's absurd. Isn't that the furthest thing from the human strength you wanted to prove?"
"I wanted to fight with my own power, but circumstances forced my hand."
"I can guess the situation, but tell me—what happened?"
Archer covered his bandaged face, his intense emotion palpable despite his hidden expression.
"Our failure dragged Goetia down, leading to defeat by the Apocalyptic Beast and the God of the Bible. Then, that God tried to remake humanity."
"That's unacceptable."
Goetia, the King of Men, materialized, standing protectively between Archer and the Hero Faction.
"Goetia. I didn't expect you to show up personally. I thought you'd stay holed up in the Temple of Time and send Baal or someone. Are you different from the Goetia I know?"
Unfazed by the towering presence, Archer stepped forward.
"That's my line, hero-wannabe. You say we lost to the Apocalyptic Beast? To that flawed God? Amusing nonsense. I'm intrigued—speak."
Archer chuckled, a mix of joy and shame. Joy at speaking with his mentor again, shame at revealing his fallen state.
"Wow, that's totally Cao Cao."
"Huh?"
"You act just like that around Goetia or Baal."
"Huh?"
Archer paused awkwardly before speaking.
"First, tell me—how much of the truth do you understand?"
Goetia responded, "We, who perished in the Temple of Time, were revived by the God of the Bible's machinations. But he embedded factors to make us act in his favor. We're meant to defeat the soon-to-revive 666, and its energy will fuel his revival."
Archer nodded exaggeratedly. "Mostly correct."
"The Apocalyptic Beast can only be defeated by Goetia, using your first Noble Phantasm. We didn't realize until the end."
"The first Noble Phantasm, not the third?"
Caspalug's intel omitted the first Noble Phantasm. But it made sense—the God layered deceptions. Even believing they knew everything was a mistake.
"Your face says you get it. Yes, the Apocalyptic Beast is Truth incarnate—the pus of the Age of Gods, born from the rift between man and god, unnoticed even by Solomon. Three thousand years of all mythologies' weight. As long as Truth exists, 666 is immortal. Destroy 666, and Truth collapses. But physically destroying 666 requires three thousand years of the world's energy. We didn't have that time. Other methods—tainting 666 with impurities or splitting and killing it endlessly—also needed time we lacked. If we'd found 666 before its revival, it'd be different, but to us, it appeared suddenly."
The Beast's existence was a legend, doubted even by the Hero Faction, who saw no need to seek it with Goetia's extraordinary power.
"The third exception is you, Goetia. Your first Noble Phantasm—Farewell—can shatter Truth. Because 666 isTruth, and Truth is you in this world. With the nine rings and three holy relics, at the cost of your existence."
The Hero Faction, under Asia's care, sensed the weight of this what-if.
"You succeeded. You broke Truth and defeated the weakened 666 with your third Noble Phantasm. But he revived—the flawed God."
The worst outcome. Archer's bandaged face twisted, teeth grinding at the memory.
"Do you know how I felt? Goetia, the Demon God Pillars—all the emotions and words you directed at us, mocked as a farce for his revival! With a god-slaying spear, I couldn't even scratch him, watching my allies and innocents die!"
It was a scene of unimaginable regret.
"If the Hero Faction didn't exist—if we hadn't held you back—Goetia might've had time to see through that God's malice."
"That's wrong."
"I chose to rely on the Hero Faction. If you were a factor in our defeat, that's my error. The God of the Bible may have planned it, but even without his cursed factors, I see potential in these fools. They're worth challenging the Lion King. This world's humans are worthy of expectation. To think your involvement altered my plan's success is arrogant beyond measure."
Archer burst into laughter, joyless and mocking. He scorned Goetia's blindness and grieved his mentor's faith in him.
"You're joking, Goetia! You, who became the Demon God King because you couldn't bear human ugliness, truly feel that way? You expect something from them? This world isn't yours!"
Goetia recalled similar words from the Goddess of the Lance, but their intent differed starkly. Why would someone born in this world deny it? Could contracting with another world be the cause?
"What do you mean?"
"Let me make it clear, using this Solomon as an example."
Let's talk of a king who used gods and Satans to seize the human era. A king who sacrificed everything to set the world for humanity, oppressed by the supernatural.
"Do you know what this Solomon was called?"
"The king who knew only rage?"
"No, that's the supernatural's view. Humans called him the incompetent king. Solomon told me himself."
The incompetent king. Calling him a poor king would've made sense. Building Truth could be seen as stripping faith's value from humans in a god-filled era. But incompetent felt off—it implied he did nothing. Solomon wielded violence for defense and crafted Truth to usher in the human era. To see him as a threat or obstacle was understandable, but incompetent seemed inaccurate.
Only Goetia grasped the term's weight, shaken to the point of losing composure.
"That's absurd—impossible! He's not our Solomon, but he was a king with emotions! A King of Men! He raged, grieved, and hated the tragedies caused by the supernatural. He fought them with force. What more could they want?!"
Archer shook his head.
"The same thing you wished of your Solomon."
"Humans wishing that of another human?!"
"Not another human. To them, Solomon wasn't human—he was a king."
Seconds later, the Professor understood the human malice behind those words. Archer mocked the Hero Faction, unable to keep up, with envious scorn.
"You don't get it, you amateurs. But that's fine. Stay that way."
"Humans wished for Solomon to become a god."
Archer recounted an absurd history—ludicrous, simple, selfish, and karmic.
"People realized—not just in Solomon's kingdom, but worldwide—that no god favored humanity."
As humans toyed with other creatures, gods broke humans—as livestock, toys, slaves, materials, actors. Like gods themselves.
"Separating from gods would've advanced the species. But they chose to forge a god—one to protect, love, and save humanity unconditionally, to worship solely, excluding all others."
Solomon could've done it. Having tricked gods and Satans to build Truth, he could've. No need for violence—stirring conflict with words, rewriting causality with the ring, or setting magical traps would've sufficed. Or he could've made Truth a god-slaying formula.
But Solomon didn't. To those expecting a new god, he did nothing. Thus, history reviled him. Not by the supernatural, but by human will, he was mocked as a tyrant.
"He was never seen as human! To them, he was a tool for happiness, a failed wish-granting god! Only Solomon would expect anything from such a world!"
Humanity wished for Solomon to make them happy alone.
Solomon replied that striving together for happiness was far greater—defamed as incompetent, slandered as lazy, yet believing humanity could shine like that world.
"In fact, Solomon taught the God of the Bible about other worlds to brand himself an evil of humanity—the mastermind of a calamity. If he's guilty, hasn't he atoned already?"
That was the despair Archer—no, the parallel world's Cao Cao—endured. Their fate was a farce orchestrated by an overwhelming entity, their origins vilely corrupt, their strength utterly powerless.
"Not just past humans. The present was powerless too. After reviving, God recreated the two-faced beast. That hideous monster wiped out humanity in an instant. As Baal said, I couldn't be Ritsuka Fujimaru."
He couldn't save the world.
***
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