Concerto in Black

“No... The Fallen Angel... Lucifer?!” White staggered out of her seat, her eyes widened in astonishment. She beheld the spectacularly black wings, feeling a wave of dark energy emitting from them that seemed to confirm the reality of Lucifer.

“It’s been a while, Holy Maiden White...”

White recognized the deep, resonating voice. When it spoke her name, she trembled all over. In the face of a mythical entity, she could no longer stand, and crumpled to the ground. Lucifer sat on the altar without trepidation, proudly keeping his legs crossed in defiance. White truly believed that this being would not fear any god.

“Is-Is that your true form...?” she asked, unable to keep her voice from shaking. Her body was still shaking, too, every inch of her skin having turned to goosebumps. Who could have blamed her? The real Lucifer had materialized before her. The mythos that she had studied since a young age had suddenly come to life. It was an understatement to say that her world was just turned upside down.

“Any physical form is temporary to me...” Lucifer answered.

For better or worse, White comprehended this. Surely, a deity of another dimension, like an angel, would exist in a different way than humans. In fact, legends tell of angels donning armor when fighting in battle, exuding an aura of valiance they hadn’t carried before. And those were nameless, ordinary angels. White was sure that things like physical appearance meant close to nothing to the Ruler of Night, the one who rebelled against the Great Light. Of course, the worst part was that Akira Ono wasn’t lying; he considered any form in this world to be temporary.

(Master Lucifer... You’re so beautiful... And...) The air in the room seemed sharp enough to break skin. Lucifer’s threatening appearance exuded beauty and instilled fear. Even so, White saw an unstable air about him that she couldn’t ignore. This might have been attributed to her motherly nature paired with the legend of Lucifer’s exile from the heavens; she had always imagined a twinge of loneliness in that story. (He really is as I envisioned...)

To someone like White who had lived her life perfectly, Lucifer was a pitiful deity who, despite his enormous powers, had made a grave mistake along the way. She had always imagined him to have a boyish recklessness, as he never relented in his own philosophy even after his exile. The fact that the Fallen Angel chose to appear to her in a form similar in age to her only added to her impression of him.

The Fallen Angel in black, the Demon Lord, climbed down from the altar and approached her. With every step, as he neared, White could feel her heart beating faster. She was staring into the night itself, with pitch-black eyes that seemed to pierce through anything.

“I’ll show you the real thing,” he said. “Take hold.”

“O-Okay...” White wrapped her arms around the Demon Lord’s waist. Furthermore, she buried her face in his chest, pressing as much of her body against his as she could. This was more of a lover’s embrace than anything else.

The Demon Lord had only meant to have her hold onto some part of his body, but White had taken drastic action, recalling the last time the Demon Lord performed a miracle.

Of course, she had the perfect excuse. “Th-This is the correct position, isn’t it...? We have to be like this to perform miracles...?”

“Y-Yeah... Sure.” The Demon Lord averted his eyes from White’s pleading gaze. With two soft cushions pressing into him, the Demon Lord started to feel a little dizzy. White was dressed like a bona fide angel, her Angel’s Ring only adding to her allure.

The pointlessly high-caliber Fallen Angel wings spread and folded around White’s body. Feeling the embrace of the wings that ruled the night, and with the sensation that she was living a scene straight out of a legend, her face turned a beaming red.

The completely involuntary movement of his wings made the Demon Lord want to shout: (What the hell are you doing, you perverted wings?! This is only pressing her breasts into me more!) Despite the solemn air he was trying to portray, the interactions between them had turned into slapstick comedy. The Demon Lord had planned to pull off the performance of a lifetime playing the ultra-suave Fallen Angel that White thought him to be, but now he felt like he had walked into a honeypot, and the color drained from his face as remembered their bath together. (You gotta be kidding me... I’d better get out of here, quick!) Fearing that, if anyone were to walk in, he would be burned alive for sexually harassing the Holy Maiden, the Demon Lord swiftly Quick Traveled.

Wings, carry me away...

That was the line the Demon Lord had uttered on the spot to make Quick Travel seem more like magic. But now, White took the incantation literally, concluding that the previous miracle must have also been made possible by these dark wings.

(I get to experience the miracle with Master Lucifer again...!)

They vanished in an instant and materialized on the rooftop of the Casino. The neon signs that shone in every color of the rainbow reflected in White’s eyes. She could also see below them more activity than she ever thought possible in this desolate village. Countless little shops lined the streets, and well-built stores filled the Business District. Considering the number of buildings under construction, the village was turning into quite the city.

“Are we in... the village of Rabbi...?”

“We are.”

“How is that large fountain...? Wait, there can’t be a forest out here...” White blanked, her mind overloaded with questions and confusion. She couldn’t believe her eyes. She tightened her grip around the Demon Lord’s waist, pulling them even closer together.

“In any case, you can let go now,” the Demon Lord said.

“No, thank you...”

“What?!”

“Wh—Um, n-n-n-n-never mind what I said. I was just talking to myself...” White politely distanced herself, prompting a concealed sigh of relief from him. He doubted that any man in this world could withstand being embraced by this angelic woman for long.

Having finally caught his breath, the Demon Lord began telling White in many words how he made the eastern village offer their land to Luna, and his projection that eastern nobles would continue to join his ranks after seeing the prosperity of the village. (Things won’t be pretty if she gets suspicious of us. I’ve gotta explain everything nice and cleanly.) In summary, the Demon Lord explained that lords presenting their land to the Holy Maidens would be of no detriment to her.

“Offering their land...” White repeated.

“There is no point in keeping around a lord or lady who only sees their people as tax revenue. These toxic rulers should be replaced with those more worthy to rule.” The Demon Lord wrapped it up in a convincing statement, watching for White’s reaction. She seemed calm and accepting. In fact, from a strictly business perspective, White and the Church would only benefit from this deal.

“I doubt anyone would complain about the land in the east...” White said. It would have been a different story if the Demon Lord had settled in a different region, but eastern Holylight was an arid wasteland. Nobles that ruled this region were called pseudo- or wannabe-nobles, ignored by Central and the west. Moreover, Holylight preached that hard work and paving one’s own path were the doctrine of the Wise Angel. Nobles were cold to those without power, after all, and didn’t consider those who settled in a desolate wasteland as equal to them.

“But no matter how much land from the east is offered to us...” White said, audibly pained. Those who knew Holylight well knew that one could hardly give away eastern land, much less sell it. They were viewed as all baggage and no profit. What’s more, bandits were left unchecked, and it was a breeding ground for Satanists. No one could feasibly turn enough of a profit to justify taking any land in these parts.

“My answer lies in the view...” The Demon Lord cryptically prompted White to look down from the roof again. She didn’t see a village, or even a town, but something else entirely. Tahara had designed a well-organized city that was unlike any other in this world. Rabbi’s structure was all preplanned, with the land below it leveled in meticulous detail, eliminating any height variation. The roads were ridiculously large, too, and shops kept plenty of space between each other. Everything about the city went against the current norm of cramming as many buildings as possible in limited space. The spaciousness of this layout provided a calmness and tranquility that could not be found anywhere else. High-traffic roads were always organized by intersections where workers with flags stood to stop carriages and give directions to pedestrians. Upon closer inspection, White noticed the constant flow of people carrying various construction materials. The hired mages, meanwhile, continuously cast Reinforce and Affix to these materials. The hustle and bustle almost seemed otherworldly.

“It’s like a festival...” White muttered.

The Demon Lord laughed, having enjoyed watching the village’s expansion himself. It was a much more dynamic version of a sandbox game come to life.

“Festival...” he repeated. “Of course. I might as well aim to make it a Mega City.”

“Mega...?”

“A city with a population of ten million people.”

“Ten million?!” White shouted in astonishment.

The Demon Lord had simply chosen that number because it was the highest tier in the city development game he used to play. At the same time, the Demon Lord going full-force into expanding and bettering his territory would be of great value to the people of eastern Holylight. The Demon Lord was acting completely in self-interest, trying to unlock all of his admin features, but those who were going to receive the benefits of his operations would see him as a saving grace... And White saw him in the same light. She had just witnessed the overturning of a land that everyone had thought untouchably barren. She didn’t know what else to call it but another miracle.

“Are you going to build a new country?” White asked.

“A new country, huh...?” The Demon Lord maintained a seemingly thoughtful silence, but thoroughly rejected the idea on the inside. He couldn’t imagine who would want to come to a fantasy world just to play king. (Leave that for a dreamy-eyed kid...) Above all else, the Demon Lord still strove to unlock all of his features. Eventually, the Demon Lord broke the silence and replied, “Countries are not created at will...”

“They are a natural consequence, you mean?” White jumped to finish the Demon Lord’s milquetoast response.

The Demon Lord tried to answer, but couldn’t find the words. So, the cunning mastermind that he was, he decided to change the subject. “I have an enemy to face. Some being that rules this world.” This was true. His enemy had yet to show themself, but they had made clear their animosity and malice towards the Demon Lord. Of course, White could take this in no other meaning than the Demon Lord preparing to take on the Great Light. Who else could be a worthy foe to Lucifer?

“You’re going to rebel once more...” White inferred.

(What do you mean “once more?!”) the Demon Lord silently screamed, clueless to the subtext of her comment. This wasn’t the first time someone had said something of this nature to him, and he had no idea how to respond. “Who knows how many battles there have been, but I will emerge the victor this time. And in a total victory, for that matter.”

“H-How can you be so sure?”

“I never imagine myself losing. Besides...”

“Besides...?”

The Demon Lord thought of his eight advisors and the Demon Lord of the Empire that stood above them. The mere nine of them had always defeated waves upon waves of players, seizing victory after victory. The memories of taking on die-hard players from around the world prevented the Demon Lord from even imagining the possibility of his defeat. “I have allies I’ve never had before...” he finally replied, staring into White’s eyes. Considering that he and his advisors had always fought players on their own, he was definitely at an advantage now that he could hire adventurers, military men, and even mercenaries.

However, this was a dangerous thing to say in a world of glimmering neon that made it seem like he and White were the only people in the world. White stood there, frozen with shock and practically forgetting to breathe. “You consider me...your ally?” she asked.

“Of course. I’m counting on you.” The Demon Lord was ready to work with the rulers of the nation like White and Luna, and was prepared to compensate them appropriately. Their current conversation, however, maintained their misunderstanding.

Soon, White approached the Demon Lord, staring deep into his dark eyes. “I know not of the true events of old... Nor how deep your feud runs. But...”

“Hm?”

“I believe in the miracle I see before me, and the Ring you’ve given me.”

(Miracle...?) The Demon Lord contemplated the unfamiliar word, when White quietly reached out her hands and pulled his head closer. Before he knew it, the Demon Lord found his face buried in cloud-like softness. The overwhelmingly gentle embrace kept the Demon Lord silent.

“I will protect you from anything. Even the Light...”

“F-Fine...” the Demon Lord awkwardly grunted before hurriedly raising his head from White’s bosom. It was too tempting to lay his head in those heavenly cushions forever. Just as he did, the uselessly high-caliber Fallen Angel wings spread wide, pulling White close in an embrace. This time, the wings seemed to have activated a useless visual effect with it, making shimmering black feathers fall all around them.

Amidst the whirl of black feathers, in the middle of glimmering neon lights, White’s cheeks reddened in intoxication. Her hands slowly wrapped around the Demon Lord’s waist. “I will return you to the angel that you were...” They had created a divine tableau, a dark and a light angel embracing. Something inside the Demon Lord had finally surrendered to White’s stoic innocence. He wondered if any man had ever overcome a determined woman, especially when standing a little closer to the clouds than the rest of the world.

The Demon Lord thought of a day in his distant memory. The clock struck midnight in his head, reverberating the powerful genesis of something...an unending concerto.

The dark angel played a tune, and the world danced to it. The ever-playing concerto was sure to rewrite the entire world. While he wasn’t any deity or character of legend, he was unmistakably the creator of the world.

Remaining SP — 1358p