The kingdom stretched endlessly beneath the lavender sky, rivers glinting like silver veins between rows of spired towers. At its heart, a cathedral pierced the heavens, shadowing a colossal circular plaza where an obelisk gleamed like a beacon. Bridges, boulevards, and palaces interlaced seamlessly, a metropolis sculpted from grandeur and divine ambition.
Inside the luxury castle, maids hurried up and down the grand staircase, arranging dishes across a long banquet table and restoring everything to meticulous order.
At the castle's massive front gate, five beautiful maids stood in formation on either side. Beside them, Alistair Von Arden, clad in shining silver plate armor trimmed with blue, his high-collared cape sweeping behind him, exuded knightly nobility. To his right stood the king himself—Maeltharion Veyros—draped in black and gold royal attire. A jeweled crown rested upon his brow, while a long white fur cloak cascaded from his shoulders. Intricate chains and sigils gleamed across his chest, layered robes framing him in stately grandeur, and tall black boots gave him a commanding stance. Every inch of him radiated authority.
A carriage halted at the great doors, its presence commanding silence. The doors creaked open. Haruto stepped out first, Liora and Vhalzareth at his side.
The king extended his hand, his voice carrying both youth and weight.
"I am King Maeltharion Veyros. It is an honor to meet you."
Haruto clasped his hand firmly.
"The same to you. I am..."
A thought sliced through his mind like a whisper of dread.
(I can't tell him my real name. My classmates are here!)
With a calm mask, Haruto replied,
"It's Hayato. You can call me Hayato."
A smile tugged at the king's lips.
"Shall we?" he said, turning toward the castle's interior.
"Yes," Haruto answered, following into the grandeur.
As Liora, Vhalzareth and Alistair followed slowly behind Liora with a bit of confusion look on her face said to herself
(Why this lord Haruto fake his name is there a problem?)
Liora, Vhalzareth, and Alistair followed a few steps behind.
Liora's brow creased with quiet confusion as she walked.
(Why is Lord Haruto hiding his name? Is there something wrong?)
They reached a gentle green lawn. Haruto and King Maeltharion exchanged a subtle nod — the sign that their subordinates should give them privacy. For a heartbeat the others hesitated… then left, obedient and curious.
Haruto and Maeltharion resumed their walk across the sunlit grass, the palace gardens unfolding like a living tapestry around them.
Maeltharion spoke first, sincere and almost boyish with admiration.
"Congratulations on your victory."
Haruto gave a modest shrug.
"Thank you. It wasn't anything extraordinary."
The king's expression shifted, a mixture of wonder and puzzlement.
"You crushed their armies. You annihilated their military. Why didn't you simply take the entire country?"
Haruto paused and met the king's gaze. For a moment he stood still, then continued walking as he answered — calm, measured, deliberate.
"There are a few reasons."
He folded his hands behind his back, looking out over the hedges as if weighing each word.
"First, I don't want our nation to be seen as purely aggressive. Occupying everything at once would paint us as conquerors rather than liberators."
He let that hang in the air, then added quietly, almost to himself:
"And it's practical — holding a land requires manpower, logistics, governance. Taking territories you can't support only creates more problems than it solves."
A faint curve of amusement crossed his lips as he glanced at the sky.
(My nation already rivals continents.) he thought, the claim folded into a private calculation rather than a boast.
(We control a territory so vast that taking more would stretch us thin.)
Maeltharion listened, nodding slowly. The king's eyes were sharp; he was probing, but not pressing. The two continued their measured walk through the palace gardens, the afternoon sun laying long, deliberate shadows behind them.
The luxury chamber glowed with golden lamplight. Velvet curtains framed tall windows, and the air was heavy with the faint scent of incense.
On a crimson couch, King Maeltharion leaned back casually, though his words carried the weight of history itself.
"An alliance," he declared, his voice firm, "lasting for one hundred thousand years."
Haruto froze. His expression didn't change, but inside his thoughts reeled.
(A hundred thousand years…? That's so long. Still—since I evolved into the Spider Emperor form, I'm essentially immortal. Time isn't what it used to be for me.)
Composing himself, Haruto inclined his head slightly.
"Yes. I'll accept your offer."
Then, leaning forward with hands resting on his knees, he added with a shift in tone:
"Oh, but there's something I want to ask."
Maeltharion raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
"I'm all ears."
Haruto smiled faintly.
"On the way here, I noticed you have a school. I was thinking… perhaps your students and mine could train together. Or better yet—hold a joint tournament."
For a moment, Maeltharion's expression softened, his eyes gleaming with unspoken excitement. He thought to himself, almost giddy:
(This would give our Heroes real combat experience outside the kingdom. It's a golden opportunity… but—)
His tone shifted as he spoke aloud, tempered by caution.
"I love the idea. But traveling to your country is dangerous. Your lands are vast, and filled with monsters. Many might not even make it to the capital."
Haruto nodded, acknowledging the truth.
"Hmm… you're right. Give me a week or two, and I'll find a solution." His voice carried the kind of quiet certainty that left little room for doubt.
"Really?!" Maeltharion leaned forward in surprise, his tone almost breaking from his usual regal composure.
Tapping his fingers twice against the polished wooden table, a small black portal shimmered open before him. From it emerged a richly designed bottle of wine, its glass etched with golden sigils.
(Wine?) Haruto thought, surprised as the bottle slid across the table toward him.
Maeltharion's voice grew warm, almost ceremonial.
"As a toast to the success of our contract, I offer you one of Solmaria's most luxurious—and expensive—wines."
Haruto hesitated, his gaze lingering on the bottle.
(I don't drink… but refusing would be rude. Besides, wasting something this rare would be foolish. And I have Poison Nullification—so there's no risk.)
With a faint smile, Haruto extended his hand. The bottle disappeared into the white swirl of his Pocket Realm, tucked away for later.
On the table, a sphere of white light began to shimmer and pulse, its brilliance forcing the room into silence. Slowly, something solid took shape within the glow. As the radiance unraveled like curtains of silk, the object was revealed—an elegant hourglass.
Its frame was forged in crimson and gold, etched with ancient symbols that seemed to move when looked at too long. Inside the glass shimmered golden grains of light—like tiny stars trapped in a cosmos of glass, drifting with every turn.
Maeltharion's eyes widened, his composure cracking for the first time. His voice trembled with recognition.
"The… Grain Requiem?!"
Haruto tilted his head, faintly amused.
"Oh? So I don't need to explain what it is."
The king nodded quickly, though curiosity burned in his gaze.
"I have seen the Grain Requiem once before. But this… this looks different."
Haruto's tone was calm, measured, yet carried the weight of revelation.
"Yes. This is an improved version. The original Grain Requiem can only halt time in a small area—and only for one hour. This one…" Haruto's eyes gleamed faintly as he rested his hand on the artifact. "…can stop time across a far greater expanse. For an entire week."
The words hit like thunder. Maeltharion shot up from the couch, his regal composure gone.
"Are you serious?! You—are you truly willing to give this… to me?" His voice shook with disbelief.
Haruto rose as well, his expression calm but resolute. He extended his hand toward the king.
"Yes. I trust you. I believe we will aid each other in the days to come." A small smile flickered across his lips.
Maeltharion grasped Haruto's hand with unrestrained fervor, gripping tightly.
"I cannot wait to begin working alongside you!"
"Me too," Haruto replied simply.
And so, the alliance was sealed between their two nations.
As Haruto departed, his form vanishing with his carriage into the distance, Maeltharion stood at the gates, waving until the very last shimmer of light faded.
Later, within his study, Maeltharion sat heavily in his ornate chair. Across from him, Alistair stood tall, armored and vigilant.
"How did it go, King Maeltharion?" Alistair asked.
The king broke into a hearty, almost boyish laugh.
"It went extremely well!" he said, still half-laughing, his excitement barely contained.
Alistair tilted his head, frowning.
"That's good news… but tell me honestly, what kind of monster is he?"
At once, Maeltharion's laughter stopped. His voice hardened with sudden edge, almost defensive.
"He is not a monster!"
Alistair blinked at the sharpness of his king's reply.
"Huh? Then what do you mean? No ordinary being could possibly wield such power."
Maeltharion's laughter faded into a thoughtful smile. His voice carried both conviction and wonder.
"True… on the outside, he looks like a monster. But on the inside? He's more human than most men I've ever met. In that short time we spent together, I noticed a few things. He doesn't drink. And the way he carries himself… refined, deliberate. He might have come from a wealthy or noble family. His presence isn't just born from power—it's shaped by upbringing."
He leaned back, resting his chin on his knuckles, eyes distant.
"Fascinating."
Maeltharion , frowned slightly.
"Speaking of which… don't you have some history with the Spider Emperor?"
Alistair's voice lowered, almost solemn as he recalled the old tale.
"Yeah. My grandparents were High Humans. Two hundred thousand years ago, they lived in a small village. One night, the village was attacked by demons. They were moments from death when the former Spider Emperor appeared. He saved them."
For a moment, silence hung between them, broken only by the faint crackle of fire from the hearth.
Maeltharion exhaled softly, nodding.
"I see…" he said, his tone quiet and thoughtful.
In Haruto's office, he sat in his chair, eyes fixed on the blue flower resting on his desk.
Slowly, he extended his hand toward it. The petals began to fade, leaves falling one by one as the flower withered under the influence of time acceleration—Surge.
He let Seraphina analyze the Grain Requiem, letting her dismantle its core. Step by step, she revealed its secret: control not just over time itself, but over its flow.
With Haruto's Arcanum Manipulation and the Genesis Thread, she reconstructed this principle inside his soul. The hourglass dissolved, its power reborn as a permanent skill: Chrono Domination.
Now, Haruto was more than a master of stopping time (Stasis). He could accelerate it (Surge) and even reverse it (Reversal). A sovereign of time, ruler over its every flow.
He whispered softly as the flower bloomed back to life with a shimmer of restored blue.
"Reversal… perfect."
---
"Anyway," Haruto said, standing, "I should go tell the Orc about the plan to create roads leading out of the capital."
The door opened, and Liora stepped in, brow furrowed.
"Are you going somewhere?" she asked.
Haruto nodded.
"I'm going to give the plans to the Orcs to start construction."
Liora tilted her head, puzzled.
"Is that all?"
"There are other things… but we'll take it slow," Haruto replied calmly.
Liora nodded, a little hesitant.
"Okay… I'll head to the Orcs then and deliver the plans."
"Later is fine," Haruto said, settling back onto the couch.
Liora perched opposite him, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
"Is something wrong, my lord?"
Haruto smiled faintly.
"Let's chat for a while."
"Chat?" Liora echoed, surprised.
He leaned back, relaxed, but there was a subtle sadness under his smile.
"Yes."
"Why so sudden?" she asked.
Haruto's calm demeanor faltered. His fingers rubbed the back of his neck as he avoided her gaze.
"Just… a feeling I need to let go of," he admitted softly, shyness flickering in his tone—a side of him rarely shown.
Liora's expression softened.
"There's something I want to know."
Haruto tilted his head toward her, curiosity lighting his features.
"I want to know more about your past… the world you come from."
A small laugh escaped him, tinged with warmth.
"Ah… I can tell you—I had three sisters."
"Three sisters?" Liora's voice was quiet, almost held back.
Haruto's expression darkened, a shadow crossing his golden eyes.
"Yes… four years ago, one of them… died in a car accident."
"Don't forget the people you left behind," Liora said gently, her hand resting lightly on her lap.
Haruto exhaled slowly.
"I… I don't." His voice softened further, almost a whisper.
"Even Velmaria…"
A quiet weight hung in the room, the kind that only true memories and long-lost bonds could carry.
"Liora, how was your life before we met each other?" Haruto asked.
"I don't really know much… I was being controlled by the former Spider King," Liora replied quietly.
"Why would he control you?" Haruto asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
"Well… I was far stronger than the Spider King. I think he was afraid I'd overthrow him," she said.
(Huh?! That explains it. After killing him, I got the skill Web of Command—it lets me control spiders and a lot of other crazy stuff…) Haruto thought to himself.
"I see…" he said calmly.
"Liora, you're good at making barriers, right?" Haruto asked.
"Yes, I am!" Liora answered proudly.
"I want you to create a barrier around the whole city," Haruto said.
Liora stood, her expression sharpening. "What kind of barrier?"
"One that keeps monsters away from the city… and nullifies magic inside," Haruto explained.
"Consider it done," Liora replied with confidence.
---
Meanwhile, Elsewhere
In another dimension, a vast room stretched under crimson and gold walls. Five red portals burned like molten gateways around a black, intricately designed table in the center. Five thrones stood like pillars of authority.
Reinhard sat with his arms crossed as Hoshika stepped in through one of the red portals.
Another portal flared open. A woman emerged—Azuraith, one of the Great Demon Lords.
Her hair was long, straight, a deep navy blue with a silky sheen. She wore a form-fitting, sleeveless dark-blue qipao embroidered with golden floral patterns, the high slit emphasizing both elegance and danger. Her body was slim yet graceful, her striking eyes sharp as they fell on Reinhard. She took her seat without a word.
The third portal stirred, and Carmilla stepped through. Her long, flowing black hair faded into crimson-red at the tips, styled partly into an elegant bun with silver floral pins and dangling ornaments. Her crimson eyes burned like a predator's as she moved with calculated grace.
The fourth portal pulsed open. Orpheus Veythar stepped through. His dark black hair fell in layered bangs over his face, with a long tied strand running down past his waist. His attire—a formal black suit with gold and red embroidery—spoke of nobility and power. A white shirt and black tie contrasted the deep tones, while a golden chain with red jewels gleamed across his chest. Aristocratic elegance draped over him like a mantle.
He took his seat, and silence fell across the chamber.
Five figures now sat at the black table—the Five Great Demon Lords.
A group sworn to protect their Omniverse from the Black Synarchy, an entity from another Omniverse. Guardians of balance, arbiters of power… and the ones who decided the fate of worlds.