Side Story, Episode 25
A being created solely to defeat Dale, a crystallization of potential—that was Mikhail Yuris, an embodiment of primordial darkness.
He had forsaken reason, the hallmark of the ultimate being, in favor of human folly and irrationality, all for the sake of vengeance.
Mikhail’s sword, as dark as the night, swung with the brilliance of a morning star.
Clang!
Against the swinging star, the God of Futility wielded ‘Despair.’
The entity before him was no longer Mikhail Lancaster or Yuris, nor even a demon. It was, quite literally, a mass of potential.
A ruler of primordial darkness and the chill of the end, a lord of gold and shadow. A being betting everything on a threadbare, fleeting chance to bring down the king of humans and monsters.
Thus, Mikhail’s sword moved along the path of that potential.
Thin as a thread, small as a needle’s eye, yet undeniably present.
Here, the Lord of Black and Gold could be pierced and killed by the slender hope that entity possessed.
The path of the swinging sword was sharp and keen, as if it could cut through anything. As Mikhail had said, it was no mere boast.
”…”
Knowing this made it all the more bitter. Like a human looking down on a desperate insect struggling for survival, and like a god looking down on that human with pity.
He envisioned the end of potential for a demon more human than humans themselves. Despair, and futility. An indescribable emotion tightened around his heart.
Pity.
“Do not pity me.”
As if reading his mind, Mikhail Yuris muttered coldly.
“That’s not for you to decide.”
“Lord of Black and Gold, I understand this is not the full extent of your power as an individual.”
“Yes, it’s good that you know.”
Dale, holding ‘Despair,’ smiled bitterly.
Clang!
As the black morning star swung, Dale didn’t flinch. Shadows rose from beneath his feet, forming shapes of darkness and bone.
The Abyss Knights raised their swords in unison to block Mikhail’s blade.
The shadowy cloak at Dale’s feet expanded endlessly, and from the lake of darkness, the Shadow Stalkers rose. Barbed tendrils scattered, and the chill of the end began to swirl at Dale’s feet.
Bang!
The chill surged, raining down like bullets. With each bullet dodged or deflected, Mikhail, wrapped in primordial darkness, felt a growing anxiety.
For every Abyss Knight cut down by Mikhail’s star, two more rose from the shadowy lake.
“Do you really think you can defeat me when you can’t even handle my creations?”
Thus, Dale spoke.
Facing the primordial darkness enveloping Mikhail, observing the fleeting form of potential within.
As the Lord of Shadows, he glimpsed the truths reflected in the darkness.
There was a possibility of defeating Dale.
It wasn’t zero.
Below the decimal point of zero, an endless string of zeros stretched on. No matter how far he turned his gaze beyond the decimal, no number other than zero appeared.
And with that ‘zero,’ the desperate struggle of Mikhail Yuris, immeasurable by numbers or figures, overlapped.
When the demon of evolution was conceived in Lady Scarlet’s womb, he saw her gentle hand caressing him.
After losing his mother, he felt the sorrow of a demon who first understood human emotions.
Primordial darkness holds the potential to become anything. But in the end, potential is just potential.
At least before Dale, the opponent that entity faced now, it was a meaningless tale.
Before the God of Futility, no potential or hope held any significance and would simply scatter into nothingness.
“Futile.”
Thus, Dale spoke.
“It is not futile.”
Mikhail replied. At least, it was the ‘Mikhail Lancaster’ Dale knew. It wasn’t about chivalry. It resembled the twisted form, the shape of fanaticism, that Mikhail had once shown.
“No, it is futile.”
Thus, Dale no longer hesitated.
“Why do you think your potential isn’t zero, and that a decimal remains in the void?”
“I don’t know.”
The form of Mikhail Yuris’s potential to defeat Dale wasn’t a sharp, swinging sword or a miracle.
As the Lord of Shadows, the truth of that potential revealed itself there. Thus, it was all the more bitter.
“The possibility that I might give up resisting and offer you my heart. Beyond that, there is no chance of you defeating me.”
Dale sneered coldly.
“It’s not zero. At least, it’s a potential that appears because you and Ray Yuris wear their skins.”
“Then could you offer me your heart?”
“Regrettably, I have no intention of doing so.”
The God of Futility spoke.
“With this, your last potential has vanished.”
A voice filled with the weight of a god’s authority, imbued with magic, swept through the room.
It nullified all meaning blocking his path, denying the threadbare potential.
Whoosh!
The primordial darkness enveloping Mikhail Yuris dissipated into nothingness. As the darkness faded, the armor of dawn and the sword of the morning star scattered light.
Within the shadows engulfing the royal city, they shone like a candle in the wind.
Extinguishing the candle would be as easy as pressing a finger down.
”…Shub.”
— Yes, brother?
Thus, he inadvertently found it incomprehensible. At some point, the beings around him felt so insignificant and fleeting.
Just as the immortal Frederick and Emperor Arthur had, as the mighty beings of the old empire had, the humans and humanity before him felt like insignificant creatures.
Could this truly be an emotion a human feels toward another human? Or was it closer to a god looking down on humanity?
“Can I truly call myself human now?”
He had promised to remain human until the end. But at some point, even Dale couldn’t tell. Was this truly the perspective of a human looking at the world? Had he, without realizing it, begun to look down from the heavens?
— Brother, you know the meaning of that question, don’t you?
”…”
Shub asked coldly. A shiver ran down his spine.
A being that even the gods of the heavens could look down upon. The god of gods. That was the Mother of Old Darkness, the true identity of the girl beside Dale.
Denying it wasn’t difficult. Yet, strangely, he felt no urge to deny it. Ironically, he simply wanted to know the truth.
Thus, Dale, with an emotionless expression, watched Mikhail and asked Shub.
“Then is the being before me nothing more than an insignificant creature?”
— Who knows.
Shub chuckled, seemingly amused. This wasn’t even a fight. Surrounded by the spectral knights filling the hall, there was a being struggling desperately.
He wanted to understand the emotion he felt before the struggle of such an insignificant creature. Was this truly an emotion a human could feel toward another human?
Was it not closer to the emotion of a god pitying humanity from the heavens? He didn’t know.
Thus, he wanted to know. That was all.
He could snuff out the candle with a finger or grant a chance. Either decision was merely the omnipotence of a god dealing with a creature.
The emotion of a human dealing with another human had, at some point, become unrecognizable.
The height from which he viewed the world as the ‘Black Prince,’ and the height from which he viewed it now.
He wanted to know where that vast difference originated.
“I’ll give you one last chance, Mikhail Yuris.”
”…!”
“Give up your revenge.”
Dale spoke.
“I will not hold you accountable for your sins, nor will Ray Yuris. And you will be protected under my name.”
At Dale’s words, Mikhail burst into laughter. As if it were too absurd to believe.
“What sins do you intend to hold me accountable for?”
“As the ruler of this world.”
Dale answered without a hint of hesitation. The armor of dawn enveloping Mikhail began to shine once more.
“What do you think is the purpose of life?”
“Self-replication of DNA. You should know better.”
“That’s what I thought at first. But now, I don’t even feel the urge to fulfill life’s functions.”
Mikhail replied with a bitter self-mockery.
“In a world where loved ones have left and I’m left alone, what meaning is there in this endless solitude?”
”…”
Mikhail spoke bitterly, and at his words, Dale finally swallowed his breath.
“It’s not someone else’s story, is it, Lord of Black and Gold?”
“You don’t need to forgive me.”
Dale replied coldly. At some point, Mikhail had given up even resisting and was kneeling before Dale.
As if to declare the end of fleeting potential, the black sword in Dale’s hand swung.
At that very moment, the armor of dawn enveloping Mikhail began to emit light once more. This time, it was a light so alien and intense that it defied comparison to anything before. The searing heat was drawn into a single point.
It wasn’t hard to grasp that this was the result of a sudden nuclear fusion.
”…”
A blinding light of annihilation surged forth, and a crimson flame and mushroom cloud rose into the sky.
Yet, Dale remained utterly still. Both he and Mikhail knew that such an act was meaningless.
A mere nuclear explosion wouldn’t be enough to bring down the Lord of Black Gold.
The task at this fortress was complete. However, Dale had yet to officially bring the “Emperor” of the Ninth Empire to his knees.
With a bitter turn of his head, Dale moved on, his steps steady and unhurried.
Amidst the apocalyptic landscape of falling ash, he trudged on alone.
His destination was clear. But even with such clarity, Dale’s steps, as his robe fluttered around him, were filled with uncertainty.