Far from the frontlines, in one of the human settlements—
A red-haired girl stood beside a small purple-haired loli with ear-length hair, both gazing anxiously toward the horizon where the scouting team had gone.
"How much longer, I wonder…"
Chlammy clasped her hands and silently prayed for the team's safe return.
Every expedition carried tremendous risk. A single encounter with a higher-ranked race often came at a devastating cost.
This time, they had been gone even longer than usual.
"..."
As she stared at the unchanging, dim-red sky—
A faint shadow began to appear on the horizon.
"Enemies!!!"
Instinctively, Chlammy tried to organize an evacuation. Even if the intruders weren't targeting humans directly, the aftermath of a battle between two high-tier species could easily engulf the entire village in flames.
But the fleet was far faster than she imagined.
Within moments, the silhouettes grew closer—
Becoming an immense formation of warships descending from the heavens, blocking out the sun.
Villagers cooking their meals, children playing, sentries keeping watch—every one of them froze, staring blankly at the sky.
They couldn't comprehend what they were seeing. They couldn't even imagine such power.
In all their encounters with the higher races, they had never seen a fleet of such magnitude.
From a descending shuttlecraft, the returning exploration team emerged—faces pale with awe.
"Papa!"
A little girl sprinted toward Ivan, her eyes wide with joy.
"Ah…"
She had barely taken two steps before looking up—
And seeing the figures descending from the ship: beings with immaculate white wings.
She froze, her expression turning from joy to horror.
"Flügel!!!"
Predictably, the humans mistook the Angeloids for another higher race.
Chaos erupted through the village. Mothers clutched their children and hid in corners, while the few young men capable of fighting grabbed crude weapons in a futile effort to protect their home.
Ranked sixth among all species, a single gesture from a Flügel could wipe out their entire settlement.
"These humans… they're kind of pitiful."
Nymph sighed softly, then called out a few names.
"Chlammy, you, you, and you—Master wants to see you. Come with me."
"Eh?"
The red-haired girl and the others froze. Along with Rick, they were the de facto leaders of this region's human population.
They dared not refuse, terrified that disobedience might lead to the village's annihilation.
Trembling, they followed the Angeloid aboard the starship.
The advanced technology inside left them utterly speechless. They couldn't begin to fathom why such a powerful race would take an interest in humanity.
Then—
At the top of the ship, inside the command bridge, they met Setsuna.
"Humans?"
Chlammy blinked in disbelief.
The man sitting calmly at the central console, dressed in a dark military uniform, was unmistakably human.
—Or at least, he appeared to be.
The girls beside him also looked human, aside from the Angeloids whose wings might make one think of the Flügel. The shipgirls, Spirits, and Heroic Spirits—all looked mostly the same in form.
"Let's keep this brief," Setsuna said, gesturing for them to sit.
"As you can see, we come from another world. Our civilization—the Starsea Empire—will soon begin a full-scale conquest of this one."
"We intend to end all wars and bring an end to the chaos. All races will coexist peacefully under the Empire's rule. Naturally, the Suniaster will also belong to the Empire."
"Eh?"
Someone tried to speak up, but a companion quickly stopped them.
Years of struggling for survival had ingrained in them a deep reverence—and fear—toward those above them. They understood that Setsuna was declaring something, not negotiating.
"Do not be afraid," Setsuna said calmly, signaling the Angeloids to serve them drinks.
"As a reward for your courage, from this moment forth, all humans who willingly accept the leadership of the Starsea Empire shall be under our protection."
"We will rebuild civilization here, guide your development, and free you from war, hunger, and the oppression of other races."
"Ah…"
The group exchanged uncertain glances, slowly beginning to understand his words.
"You mean… you intend to rule over humanity?"
Chlammy asked nervously.
"Yes. In every world governed by the Empire, all races are equal."
"You need not fear your homes being destroyed by higher races, nor worry that your kin might become prey for others."
Setsuna smiled faintly.
"Most human civilizations need to be beaten into obedience first, but I don't think you'll be like them."
"..."
Unlike the humans of the Three-Body, National Team, or Akamae worlds, the humans of No Game No Life possessed a clear understanding of their own place.
They were the weakest race in their world—too powerless even to serve as cannon fodder in the war.
The promise of protection and equality from a superior civilization was far too tempting to refuse.
"P-please wait a moment…"
After a brief discussion, they reached a conclusion.
Rather than continue living in fear of annihilation, competing for the Suniaster with odds so slim they bordered on hopeless—it would be far wiser to embrace a powerful patron.
Since the offer came willingly, rejecting it would only seem foolish.
Besides, Setsuna was human. That made him easier to trust.
At least, they wouldn't have to worry about their village turning into a battlefield overnight.
"We accept. Is there anything you need us to do?"
Chlammy asked carefully.
"Uh… if it's gold you're after, we don't really have much…"
Pfft—
Setsuna almost laughed.
"Do I look like a feudal lord to you? Hm?"
He rose from his seat, gazing out toward the distant sky.
"Go, inform the others. You are the first race of this world to accept the Empire's rule."
"I will ensure your safety, and once the new order is established, guide your progress."
Angeloids and scout teams moved swiftly between settlements, delivering the proclamation to every pocket of humanity and transporting them aboard shuttles to gather in one place.
Suspicion, fear, disbelief…
At first, humans were overwhelmed by the arrival of these visitors from beyond the stars.
But as the Angeloids helped construct new shelters, and as they watched combat angels patrol the skies above, the humans began to feel something they hadn't known in generations—security.
After enduring endless years of hardship, they had finally found a protector to rely on.
Ordinary people didn't know the true combat potential of the Angeloids—they only saw that these beings had wings and could fly, and assumed they might even be capable of fighting the Flügel.
To humanity, power on that level was utterly unimaginable.
...
"Hmm, the humans here really are the easiest to settle."
Setsuna crossed out Immanity from the holographic interface.
Technically, they were a species that would emerge only after the Great War—but he liked keeping track.
"Commander, what's next?"
"Do we go one by one, or…?" asked a nanobot curiously.
"The weakest remaining are probably the Seiren, right? Or should we just target the Old Deus directly and bring out the Suniaster first?…"
"Eh?"
Chlammy, observing from the ship, felt as though a bronze-rank player had wandered into a grandmaster lobby. Was she even supposed to be hearing this kind of discussion about waging war against entire species?
"Going one by one would be too slow."
Setsuna thought for a moment.
"At this point, all these races are tearing each other apart. If we want them to settle down and submit, we'll have to do it swiftly—cut clean and deep."
"Fortunately, we've brought enough forces this time. Let's go all-in."
"Ohhh, total proclamation? I like it."
Grey immediately began drafting the decree, reciting dramatically as she typed:
"For two hundred years, under heaven's grace, the benevolent Empire extends its compassion. All who come before it are welcomed as kin…"
"???"
Yat Sen, Harbin, and several other Eastern shipgirls exchanged puzzled glances—the phrasing sounded oddly familiar.
A few hours later—
Upon the thrones of Avant Heim, in the forests of the Elves and the sanctuaries of the Elementals, within the cities of the Gigants and Dragonia—
Every leader across Disboard, even the Old Deus who had once birthed these races, received a strange message.
It was transmitted by Sophon, perfectly translated into the languages of all fifteen races, and projected before every recipient as a holographic message.
"Starsea Empire greets all races of the world of Disboard."
"By this decree of the Empire—"
"The Starsea Empire shall bring an end to all wars and cease all conflicts. From the Old Deus to the Seiren and the Immanity, every species shall be united under Imperial rule."
"...Here, we will build a civilization of harmony among all races."
"Any who dissent may challenge the Empire directly. The defeated shall submit. Those who defy or break the peace shall be annihilated."
"..."
The message was concise and absolute, clearly declaring the Empire's intent and law.
The war was over. The world of Disboard had just been annexed into Imperial territory.
It was both an order—and a final ultimatum.
The Starsea Empire had generously given the other races one last chance: to prove themselves through battle.
For in this world, strength was the only truth.
Those unwilling to submit would be beaten into submission; those too stubborn to yield with dignity, the Empire would help them find their dignity.
"Hiss…"
Across the planet, wars seemed to halt all at once.
Faced with this mysterious power from beyond the stars, every race was left pondering—shaken, uncertain.
"!!!"
Ding ding ding ding ding—
As Gudako idly tapped at the control console, countless alert boxes popped up before her eyes:
"Starsea Empire has declared war on the Old Deus!"
"Starsea Empire has declared war on the Elves!"
"Starsea Empire has declared war on the Dragonia!"
"Starsea Empire has declared war on the Gigants!"
"..."
When the decree—translated by Sophon and carrying the weight of a formal declaration of war—was transmitted across the world of No Game No Life, it sent shockwaves through every race.
The species locked in brutal combat all simultaneously halted their wars, each retreating to their own territories in an unspoken truce.
Partly to recover, partly to observe.
None of them had any idea where this strange Empire had come from. Disboard was still a chaotic battleground—its so-called nations were merely clusters of races bound together by convenience.
The decree hadn't outright declared war on every race; instead, it offered a choice.
Any race unwilling to submit could challenge the Empire and test their own strength.
It was a gesture dripping with the arrogance of an ancient celestial empire addressing the barbarians beyond its borders:
We'll give you a chance to see the difference between us—then you'll learn your place.
"How bold."
"'To end all wars, to quell all chaos'—quite the claim."
In a city hidden deep within a forest, a girl with long golden hair sat upon a vine-woven chair, frowning as she reread the holographic text again and again.
Her beauty was otherworldly—fair skin, white dress tracing the curves of her slender form, golden ornaments around her waist and head, and delicate sandals shaped like ballet slippers.
But most striking were her elven ears and the four pale-blue gemstones set in a diamond pattern on her forehead.
Like a celestial spirit descended to earth—graceful, mesmerizing, and impossibly alluring.
This was Think Nirvalen, leader of the Elven species and their greatest archmage.
She pondered for a long time, trying to recall if she had ever heard of such a strange nation—either during the current war or in ages long past.
Of course, she found nothing.
Around her, the high-ranking magi of the Elves gathered, faces solemn as they stared at the glowing message.
Some marvelled at the sheer capability of transmitting such a message over vast distances—proof that the sender knew their exact location.
Others attempted to analyze the magic behind it, but… failed utterly.
"What should we do? Do they really mean to make all races bow before them?"
One mage asked nervously.
"Give them a lesson! The arrogance!"
A young elf slammed his fist into his palm.
"Those flying ships—they must be theirs, right? Looks like something the Dwarves would build. Hah, maybe those filthy moles are trying to scare us!"
The Elves' long-standing rivals, the Dwarves, were known for their mastery of technology—commanding fleets of flying warships and advanced weaponry.
At the sight of the mysterious fleet, many Elves immediately assumed the worst and pinned the blame on their old enemies.
"Yes, it does look like something those Dwarves would make…"
"Just bigger. If we combine our spell arrays and multi-layered enchantments, we could—"
Before the discussion could spiral further, Think Nirvalen raised her hand for silence.
"No. We'll wait and watch. Do not take any action."
"Cease all operations against the Dwarves for now. Until we learn more about these outsiders, do not provoke them."
"Ah?"
Seeing her subordinates' confusion, Think Nirvalen elaborated.
The Elves ranked seventh among the fifteen races—formidable, yes, but not invincible.
Years of war had honed her caution. No matter how strong their magic, there was always someone stronger.
Considering the possibility that these strangers might be a superior race, recklessly attacking them would be disastrous.
She had no intention of taking unnecessary risks.
"Let the other races act first. Preferably, those Dwarves. If the Empire fights them to the death, we'll have time to prepare."
"For now, focus on completing the Áka Si Anse (Void Zero Protection)."
"Observe them from a distance—no attacks, no provocations. Gather intelligence only. If necessary, we can push another race to test them first."
...
Aside from the Elves, most of the other races adopted similar strategies—contracting their fronts, lying low, and watching carefully from the shadows.
Engaging recklessly with an entirely unknown power was an act of sheer folly.
"Weakness and ignorance are not the greatest threats to survival—arrogance is."
Having endured endless wars and witnessed firsthand the might of the higher races, the leaders of Disboard understood this truth far better than humans ever could.
Without knowing the enemy's nature or strength, provoking a superior race was no different from suicide.
And uniting the races was simply impossible—centuries of conflict had sown hatred too deep, and every race harbored its own selfish ambitions.
Thus, unlike other worlds where even medieval humans might foolishly launch catapults and arrows at starships, Disboard entered a strange period of peace.
No one dared to confront the Starsea Empire head-on. No challengers came forth.
Instead, every race moved cautiously—gathering intelligence, quietly observing, scheming.
Some of the more cunning ones even plotted to use the Empire as a weapon against their rivals—let the tiger devour the wolf.
If the Empire fell, it meant they were bluffing. If it won, the schemers could watch their enemies burn and profit from the aftermath. Either way, they had nothing to lose.
But no one was willing to be the first fool to test them.
"..."
"Boring."
While the other races watched in silence, there was one exception—or rather, one being who didn't care in the slightest.
Ranked first among all species, the strongest of all—the Old Deus, the gods themselves.
Their power was absolute. Every race on Disboard except humanity had been created by them, mere tools for their divine war over the Suniaster.
High above the surface floated an enormous aerial city—Avant Heim.
The city's structure was bizarre, a chaotic stack of interlocking cubes, designed with alien symmetry and divine madness.
Most ground-dwelling races could not even reach it, let alone interfere.
This was the domain of the Flügel.
And within its throne hall sat a towering figure—a man with a muscular frame, black beard, and an aura like a storm.
Behind him stretched eighteen wings, folded like a dark cloak across his back.
This was Artosh, the God of War.
The mightiest being in all of Disboard—the creator of the Flügel.
"..."
Artosh examined the holographic projection before him. The foreign message had been thoughtfully translated into over a dozen racial scripts, a sign of exceptional intelligence.
"Heh—"
The war god chuckled from his throne.
Born from the essence of bloodshed and hatred, Artosh was the embodiment of war itself—the strongest of the Old Deus.
His divinity was conflict, and the eternal wars of this world had granted him near-limitless power.
If he wished, he could shatter the planet with a gesture, annihilate every race, and seize the Suniaster for himself.
But he cared little for such things. His participation in the wars was almost ceremonial.
What Artosh truly desired was a worthy opponent—someone capable of challenging, even defeating him.
Unfortunately, such an enemy did not exist on Disboard. The other races were beneath him.
But now, an unknown civilization—a foreign race—had appeared, boldly declaring war upon every species, gods included.
In his heart, Artosh admired their courage… and pitied their foolishness.
His gaze drifted downward.
Soon, he located the direction from which the message had come. Raising his hand, he gathered his divine power.
Rumble!—
The sky darkened at once. Purple lightning arced through the clouds, carrying a terrifying, world-rending energy.
The thunderclouds swirled into a vortex, condensing into a single point—a dark rift opening wide.
"Heavenly Smite?! Lord Artosh is using a Heavenly Smite?!"
The Flügel resting in Avant Heim gasped in shock.
"Arrogant fools… no matter how many worms gather together, they are still worms."
"To challenge a god is to court annihilation."
—
—
40 Advanced Chapters Available on Patreon:
Patreon.com/DaoOfHeaven