After lunch, the interviews resumed.
Shion had clearly been waiting for this moment.
She burst into the room with her usual overwhelming presence, fists clenched, eyes shining.
"Atem-sama! I apologize for the delay! It is finally my turn!"
I had not been waiting for her in particular—but saying that out loud would only complicate matters. I gave a slow nod instead and gestured for her to stand at ease.
Shion straightened proudly.
I opened my perception and reviewed her status.
Name: Shion
Existence Value: 17,229,140
(+ Hercules Deluxe: approx. 1.08 million)
Race:
Divine Fighter
Greater Chaos Spirit: Battle Spirit Oni
Blessing:
Atem's Blessing
Title:
War Lord
Technique:
‹Divine Battlewill›
Skill:
Unique Skill — Cook
Resistances:
Physical Attack Nullification
Abnormal Condition Nullification
Mental Attack Nullification
Natural Effects Nullification
Holy–Demonic Attack Resistance
Shion began explaining her power with enthusiasm, striking poses and punctuating her words with confident gestures.
At the same time, Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom, delivered a far more accurate analysis directly into my mind—one that quietly contradicted most of Shion's own explanation.
Shion's strength did not depend on Skills.
That was the truth.
Her body itself was a weapon.
With mythical-grade equipment, she could injure even Ultimate Skill holders through sheer physical force. Her Infinite Regeneration made prolonged combat meaningless against her, and her existence value rivaled Benimaru's. Even trying to exhaust her magicules would be suicidal—she simply had too much.
Her resistances were flawless.
In short, there was only one way to defeat Shion:
Fight her head-on.
And that was a grim prospect for anyone foolish enough to try.
"You've grown stronger," I said calmly.
"Hehe… hearing that from you, Atem-sama, is embarrassing," Shion replied, smiling broadly.
She did not look embarrassed at all.
One thing, however, stood out.
She still possessed only a Unique Skill, while nearly everyone else had awakened to Ultimate power.
Solarys, I asked inwardly, did she refuse you?
No.
Shion possesses exceptional potential. After careful evaluation, I determined that her Unique Skill is sufficient. No alteration is required.
That answer felt… restrained.
I had learned to read Solarys by instinct alone, and this hesitation was unmistakable.
You're holding back, I realized.
…Correct.
The reason shocked even me.
If Shion's Skill were allowed to evolve freely, there existed a non-zero probability that she would gain power even rivaling the strongest demon lords.
Solarys had judged that outcome unacceptable and sealed her evolution.
It was astonishing. For Solarys—who delighted in cultivating power—to impose restraint was unheard of.
Yet I understood the logic.
Shion would never betray me. Of that, I had no doubt. But power that dangerous did not need malice to become a disaster.
I silently approved Solarys' decision.
After the assessment, I allowed myself a rare moment of ease. I listened to Shion recount her battles against the Imperial forces, praised her openly, and let her bask in it.
For once, there was no reprimand.
No scolding.
Just acknowledgment.
Perhaps I really did feel like an old king watching over a loyal general.
Then—
"Oh! I almost forgot," Shion said brightly. "I ran into Masayuki in the cafeteria earlier."
My calm shattered.
"…Go on."
"He looked really depressed, so I told him to consult with you, Atem-sama!"
Why was she so proud of herself?
That was precisely the problem I had wanted to avoid.
Masayuki's situation was… complicated.
Very complicated.
And worse, recent events had made it unavoidable.
After I erased Velgrynd's physical existence and dealt with Rudra, Veldora and Velzard had begged me not to annihilate Velgrynd completely. I had relented—barely—and sealed her soul within a controlled dimension.
There, we spoke.
Velgrynd had no choice but to show respect. Any defiance brought unbearable agony upon her soul.
I told her the truth.
Rudra's soul had been corrupted long ago. The real Rudra had already vanished, his soul shattered into fragments scattered across existence.
One of those fragments… was here in Eterna.
Inside Masayuki.
That was why Masayuki resembled Rudra so perfectly.
When Velgrynd realized this, she begged me—truly begged—to be allowed to search for the remaining fragments of Rudra's soul.
I allowed it.
She vanished across dimensions in pursuit of them.
Which meant there was only one reason she would have appeared near Eterna again.
And only one person she would approach.
Masayuki.
Knowing all that did not make this situation any easier.
Still… I could not betray Shion's trust.
"…I'll arrange a meeting," I said slowly. "All of us."
Shion's eyes sparkled.
"Oh! Perfect timing then! I already scheduled one—first thing tomorrow morning!"
…Of course you did.
Without consultation. Without warning.
I felt a headache forming.
Who would even attend this meeting? Masayuki? His companions? Possibly Velzard? And now Velgrynd's shadow loomed over it all.
I was still in the middle of my interviews. The
demon lords remained.
If I delayed them too long, there was a genuine risk of disaster.
"Tell Rigurd and Benimaru to prepare immediately," I said, massaging my temple.
"Yes, sir! I'll take care of it!"
Shion left the room humming cheerfully, leaving chaos behind her as usual.
I exhaled and summoned the next group.
The final—and most dangerous—interview.
Diablo appeared first, grinning widely.
"Kufufufu… has the time finally come? How long I have awaited this, Atem-sama."
"You were removed from duty yesterday," I said flatly.
Carrera snapped back instantly, her body still marked with battle scars.
"That doesn't mean you get priority! I haven't lost yet!"
Ultima, equally battered, nodded sharply.
"Agreed. This is not over."
Their clothes—extensions of their bodies—were still torn. Which meant their injuries were severe.
And yet they argued like children.
"Enough," Testarossa said calmly, stepping between them. "Do not disgrace yourselves
before Atem-sama."
The room fell silent.
Testarossa poured tea with flawless grace, unbothered by the tension, her attire immaculate—an unmistakable display of superiority.
I watched them all carefully.
Primordial demons.
Unrivaled monsters.
And yet…
Even they waited for judgment.
The Pharaoh's gaze rested upon them.
The interviews would continue.
And when they ended—
The next phase of Eterna's fate would begin.
"So, Atem-sama," Testarossa said smoothly, folding her hands with impeccable elegance,
"regarding the matter of dismissing Diablo and selecting one of us as your second secretary—unfortunately, we have not yet reached a conclusion. How shall we proceed?"
I stared at her.
That was never a thing.
Leaving the demons for last had been a mistake. Even without Shion's reckless interference, I still needed to report to King Gazel, prepare for tomorrow's emergency meeting, and stabilize the aftermath of the war. I should have handled these walking disasters first.
Regret, however, does not reverse time.
There was no room left for diplomacy.
"We don't have the luxury of a prolonged discussion," I said, my voice calm but final.
"And calling in your subordinates is unnecessary."
"That won't be necessary," Diablo replied instantly.
"It would be a waste of time," Carrera added with a sharp grin.
"If you need information on my men, I'll report it myself," Ultima said eagerly.
"Indeed," Testarossa concluded with a soft smile. "None under our command would dare interrupt our time with you."
All four spoke at once.
"…I see."
I accepted it. Not because it was reasonable—but because it was inevitable.
Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom, confirmed my suspicion immediately:
There would be no dissent. Every answer from their subordinates would amount to the same thing—
"Please decide as you wish."
This was not loyalty.
It was obsession.
Still, managing demons required accepting that logic itself bent around them.
"Very well," I said.
"Diablo. You first."
The other three were expelled from the room
without ceremony.
Diablo sat across from me, posture flawless, smile unrestrained—like a blade finally unsheathed.
I reviewed his status.
Name: Diablo
Existence Value: 66,666,666
Race:
Divine Demon
Seven Primordials — Devil Lord
Blessing:
Atem's Blessing
Title:
Magic Lord
Magic:
‹Dark Magic› ‹Elemental Magic›
Skill:
Ultimate Skill — Temptation King Azazel
Resistances:
Physical Attack Nullification
Abnormal Condition Nullification
Mental Attack Nullification
Natural Effects Nullification
Holy–Demonic Attack Resistance
…The numbers alone were suspicious.
Perfect. Too perfect.
It was almost as if he had done it on purpose.
Solarys made no comment, which meant one thing:
Whatever Diablo had done, it was deliberate—and acceptable.
Diablo was, without question, the strongest of my subordinates.
His existence value was overwhelming.
His resistances flawless.
His Ultimate Skill mirrored my own authority to an unsettling degree.
Temptation King Azazel encompassed:
Thought Acceleration
Universal Perception
Demon Lord Haki
Spacetime Manipulation
Multidimensional Barrier
All of Creation
Punitive Control
Charm Control
World of Temptation
A world-type ability.
A domain where desire, fear, and will bent to his command.
He explained every aspect of it with open enthusiasm, like a scholar finally presenting a perfected thesis. Solarys listened with quiet approval.
The uncomfortable truth was this:
Without Solarys, It would take time to utilize my abilities as efficiently as Diablo wielded his.
Still, his reliability was absolute. His devotion… terrifying.
A mock battle between Diablo and Zegion crossed my mind—
An encounter that would tear reality apart.
Benimaru, too, stood among the top. When he fought seriously, the world burned before resistance could even form.
If those three stood at the apex of my forces, then there was no argument to be had.
That concluded Diablo's evaluation.
Then he spoke again.
"Additionally, Venom is not my only disciple," he said casually.
"Gadra has formally entered my lineage."
"…Disciple?"
"Yes. As my servant, betrayal is no longer a concern."
I would have trusted Gadra regardless—but hearing this removed any lingering doubt.
"Why take him?" I asked.
Diablo's smile sharpened.
"His faith in you is incomplete—but his devotion to magic is genuine. He possesses true scholarly hunger. I deemed him worthy of personal guidance and intervened in his mystic art: Reincarnation."
"…And?"
"He nearly died in the last battle," Diablo
continued calmly.
"Disobeying your orders, no less. To prevent a repeat, I reincarnated him as a demon."
I sighed.
"And the result?"
"For reasons unknown," Diablo said, tilting his head,
"he became a previously unrecorded race—a Metal Demon."
He looked at me.
I looked back.
"…Solarys."
I intervened.
Of course you did.
This was Beretta all over again—no, worse.
Solarys reassured me it was a different concept entirely. I accepted it, because arguing was pointless.
"I may have… influenced it slightly," I admitted.
Diablo's reaction was immediate.
His excitement skyrocketed.
What followed was an extended discussion—part admiration, part theological debate—before I finally steered it back on track.
In short:
Diablo genuinely liked Gadra.
Enough to guarantee him a place within his lineage should anything happen. Gadra, the
eternal seeker of magic, had once been willing to abandon humanity for knowledge. Becoming a demon suited him perfectly.
As long as he caused no trouble, I would allow it.
Still—
"One condition," I said firmly.
"Excessive faith is prohibited. Being your disciple does not grant him the right to mirror your beliefs."
Diablo bowed deeply.
"Of course."
"From now on, he is your responsibility," I concluded.
"Take care of him."
In any other context, Gadra would be considered an elder.
But Diablo was so ancient that the concept of age itself collapsed in his presence.
Thus, the Devil Lord now possessed two disciples.
And the Pharaoh's burden grew heavier still.