A/N: Alright may people. I need your help. I'm planning on writing my own original novel. I have the story planned out and everything. I'm just missing the powers of the main cast. (Three of them including the MC)
Can you all throw in some cool ideas or me. I wanted something unique. Especially for the MC, and it must have progression value. Not something overused and simple like Fire, Ice, Thunder etc. Unless you can find cool ways to incorporate it.
Thank you in Advance.
##
The Kingdom of Siltrosso was quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet either.
The kind that felt… curated.
Controlled.
Even the air inside the royal estate carried a strange stillness, as though nothing existed there unless it had been permitted to.
At the very top of that estate—
Inside a room of suffocating luxury—
Gold-lined walls reflected soft candlelight.
Velvet curtains draped from ceiling to floor.
A long polished table sat at the center, surrounded by figures who, on paper, held power.
But in reality?
Only one person in the room truly ruled it.
Mariabell Ross sat at the head of the table.
Elegant.
Composed.
Smiling.
Dangerous.
She swirled a glass of wine lazily in her hand, crimson liquid catching the light as her eyes moved between the people present.
Two advisors.
Gaiye.
And Yuuki Kagurazaka.
All seated.
All silent.
All… "hers."
Or so she believed.
"Isn't it fascinating?" Mariabell said lightly, her voice soft and almost playful.
No one answered.
They didn't need to.
She wasn't asking.
She leaned back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other.
"To think," she continued, "that even knowing the truth… changes nothing."
Her gaze shifted.
First to Gaiye.
Then to Yuuki.
A smile curved her lips.
"I've told you both, haven't I?" she said. "That you're under my control."
She tapped her temple lightly.
"And yet… here you are. Still sitting. Still listening. Still obeying."
A pause.
"Isn't that wonderful?"
Heavy and oppressive silence followed.
Gaiye's expression didn't change.
Yuuki's didn't either.
But inside—
Yuuki was done pretending to be impressed.
'She really thinks she's her.'
He kept his face neutral.
Calm.
Submissive.
Exactly what she expected.
'Controlling me?'
He almost laughed.
'You couldn't control a stray dog, let alone me.'
But he didn't show it.
Not even a flicker.
Because unlike Mariabell—
Yuuki understood something very important.
Power wasn't about declaring control.
It was about knowing when not to.
Mariabell took another sip of her wine, clearly pleased with herself.
Then she placed the glass down.
"Now then," she said, shifting the conversation effortlessly, "let's talk about our next step."
The room seemed to tighten.
Even the advisors straightened slightly.
Mariabell's eyes gleamed.
"Demon Lord Loki."
The name alone changed the atmosphere.
Subtly.
But noticeably.
One of the advisors hesitated before speaking.
"…Lady Mariabell," he said carefully, "regarding that matter—"
She raised a hand.
He stopped immediately.
"I know what you're going to say," she said, almost bored. "Warnings. Concerns. Fear."
Her smile sharpened.
"You people are so predictable."
The second advisor spoke this time, more firmly.
"It is not unfounded fear," he said. "Your grandfather, Granbell Rosso, issued a direct warning."
That name carried weight.
Even here.
"Under no circumstances," the advisor continued, "are we to interfere with that Demon Lord."
A pause.
"He specifically singled him out."
Mariabell's expression didn't change.
If anything—
She looked amused.
"My grandfather," she said slowly, "is old."
A small tilt of her head.
"And cautious."
Her eyes hardened slightly.
"Too cautious."
She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand.
"What is the point," she asked, "of controlling weak Demon Lords?"
No one answered.
She didn't expect one.
"If I'm going to rule the world," she continued, "then I need something… worthy."
Her smile returned.
Sharp.
Ambitious.
"Loki is perfect."
Yuuki remained silent.
But internally—
'Perfect?'
He almost sighed.
'You really have no idea what you're talking about.'
Mariabell continued, completely confident.
"A newly awakened Demon Lord. Unstable. Untested. Powerful, yes, but that just makes him valuable."
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table.
"A being like that… can be shaped."
Controlled.
Owned.
She looked at Yuuki.
"And you," she said, her tone softening slightly, "have met him before, haven't you?"
All eyes shifted to him.
Yuuki didn't hesitate.
He nodded.
"I have."
Mariabell smiled, satisfied.
"Then this works out perfectly."
Yuuki lowered his gaze slightly.
Playing the part.
"If you wish," he said calmly, "I can arrange a meeting."
The room stilled.
Even the advisors looked surprised.
Mariabell's smile widened.
"Oh?"
Yuuki met her gaze.
"I can get Demon Lord Loki to come to you."
A beat.
Silence.
Then—
Mariabell laughed.
Soft.
Delighted.
"Good," she said.
"Very good."
She leaned back again, completely at ease.
"My pet is quite useful after all."
Yuuki didn't react.
Didn't flinch.
Didn't even blink.
But inside—
'Pet?'
His thoughts sharpened.
Cold.
'Keep talking.'
'You won't like how this ends.'
The first advisor spoke again, more urgently this time.
"Lady Mariabell, this is reckless. Granbell-sama's warning was clear. We can engage with other Demon Lords, but not him."
Mariabell waved her hand dismissively.
"My grandfather is afraid."
Her voice lost its softness.
Just a little.
"And I am not."
She stood up slowly.
The room seemed to shrink around her.
"If I can control Demon Lord Loki," she said, her eyes gleaming with ambition, "then the rest of the world falls into place."
A pause.
A quiet, terrifying certainty.
"A world ruled by humans."
Her smile returned.
Bright.
Unshaken.
"I can easily make that happen."
Silence followed.
No one challenged her.
No one dared.
But across the table—
Yuuki Kagurazaka sat quietly.
Watching.
Listening.
Waiting.
And thinking only one thing.
'You're not just wrong.'
'You're suicidal.'
Because unlike Mariabell—
He knew exactly what kind of monster she was trying to put a leash on.
And it wasn't something that could be controlled.
It was something that—
If provoked—
Would laugh.
And then erase everything.
---
Back at the Walpurgis
The battlefield warped.
Clayman stood at its center—
Breathing heavily.
Body trembling.
But not from fear anymore.
From power.
Unstable.
Violent.
Artificial power.
Magicules poured out of him in thick waves, distorting the air, cracking the already ruined ground beneath his feet.
"…I… am a Demon Lord…"
His voice dragged.
Warped.
Across from him—
Ultima watched.
Head tilted.
Eyes gleaming with interest.
"…Oh?"
A small smile formed.
"You actually forced it."
—
Outside the battlefield—
Frey's wings stiffened.
"…That aura…"
Her voice was low.
Careful.
Carrion's eyes narrowed, his posture tightening instinctively.
"…He's different now."
A pause.
A breath.
"…Stronger."
Frey didn't look away from the battlefield.
"…I'm not sure I could beat him."
Carrion exhaled slowly.
"…Yeah."
His gaze stayed locked on Clayman.
"…Same here."
That admission didn't come easily.
But it came honestly.
Because what stood there now—
Was no longer the same Clayman they had known.
—
Clayman lifted his head.
His eyes glowed with unstable light.
"I… WILL… NOT… BE DENIED!"
His magic surged again.
Wilder.
Less controlled.
But far more destructive.
He thrust his hand forward—
"Demon Blaster!!"
This time—
It was different.
The beam that erupted from him wasn't just powerful.
It was overwhelming.
Thicker.
Denser.
More violent.
It tore through the battlefield like a force of nature, carving a path of destruction straight toward Ultima.
The air screamed.
The ground split.
Even the surrounding Demon Lords felt the pressure.
Frey's eyes widened slightly.
"…That would kill most of us."
Carrion didn't respond.
He didn't need to.
—
The blast hit.
Directly.
Again.
A massive explosion swallowed Ultima whole, the impact echoing across the arena, shaking even the distant spectators.
For a moment—
Silence.
Then—
"…Are you done yet?"
The smoke parted.
Ultima stood there.
Unharmed.
Again.
Not a single mark.
Not even the faintest sign of damage.
She looked… mildly inconvenienced.
Clayman's body shook.
"No… no… this… this is impossible…!"
Ultima sighed softly.
"You got stronger," she admitted.
A step forward.
"But you didn't get better."
She vanished.
Clayman's eyes widened—
Too late.
She was already in front of him.
A light tap to his shoulder—
His body exploded sideways, crashing across the battlefield.
He hit the ground—
Bounced—
Rolled—
Barely catching himself.
Ultima appeared again.
Above him.
She kicked—
He blocked—
The ground beneath him shattered anyway.
She didn't stop.
Another strike.
Another.
Another.
Each one faster than the last.
Each one heavier than the last.
And yet—
Her expression didn't change.
She wasn't serious.
Not even close.
—
Frey watched in silence.
"…She's playing with him."
Carrion's jaw tightened.
"…That's a Demon Lord-level opponent."
Another clash echoed.
"And she's treating him like a toy."
—
Clayman roared.
Desperation clawing its way back through his newfound power.
"I WON'T LOSE!!"
He lunged again.
Wild.
Uncontrolled.
Ultima sidestepped.
Effortlessly.
Then grabbed his face.
Stopped him completely.
"…You're loud."
Her grip tightened slightly.
Just enough.
"You should've stayed dead."
She lifted him—
Casually—
As if he weighed nothing.
Clayman struggled.
Thrashed.
Magicules flaring wildly.
But it didn't matter.
Nothing he did mattered.
—
And then—
Something cut through the battlefield.
A sound.
Low.
Heavy.
—
BOOM.
Black lightning erupted.
Without warning.
Without buildup.
Without permission.
It struck Clayman directly.
From above.
From nowhere.
From—
Him.
—
Ultima released Clayman instantly, stepping back as the lightning consumed him completely.
It wasn't normal lightning.
It was heavier.
Darker.
Absolute.
It didn't just destroy—
It erased.
Clayman's body convulsed—
Then—
Disintegrated.
Completely.
Gone.
Not even ash remained.
—
Silence fell.
Total.
Frey blinked.
"…What…?"
Carrion turned slowly.
Because they all felt it.
That presence.
That pressure.
That overwhelming, suffocating existence.
Standing just behind them.
—
Loki stood there.
Casually.
One hand resting on the massive hammer—
Ragnir.
Black lightning still crackling faintly around its head.
His expression?
Annoyed.
Bored.
Done.
He looked at where Clayman had been.
Then clicked his tongue.
"…Annoying piece of shit."
---
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