-Balam's Territory. Outskirt o the Village-
Balechtar, alongside dozens of ascended devils, begins their great work to fortify the villages using their psychic power. Usually, it needs years to master a certain psychic school. But due to this dire situation, Balechtar used his power to give them the necessary knowledge and might to enable him to continue his plan.
The wards are rather simple, enabling various defensive mechanisms with numerous effects. It will be enough to hold Balam's onslaught.
"We have done it, milord." One of them says, bowing his body in respect.
"You did well." Balechtar raises his head to the sky, sensing the wards has perfectly enveloped the entire area. "This will do. Now, I want you all to return to the village. I still have something else to do."
"Are you certain, milord? We cannot protect you from any danger." Said the devil in concern.
"There is no harm that shall come for me, soldier. Please, everyone needs you to commence the next phase." The Old One incarnation tells him with a slight smile.
"As you wish, milord." He gestures toward his friends to leave. They answer with a nod. Worldlessly they leave the half-devil, who is staring back at the wards.
He uses his psychic power to peer into the Great Ocean, seeking the answers to a certain future. He witnessed a bloodbath, but it didn't come from either side, as it was a one-sided battle. It was a massacre.
Balechtar's mind has been transcendent into something infinitely greater than any mortals in this reality. Thus, he can predict millions of potential futures in a fraction of a second. He can determine which result of that battle will suit his design best. There are many possibilities, and he must choose one to create a concrete path.
No, he would make his own way. Manipulating fate is an intricate process. But he must try.
The Great Ocean is a place of infinite potential where the immaterial realm connects to infinite realities. A sea of chaos and order that create a paradoxical idea. Between the Great Ocean is a plane of reality that separates the material universe and the immaterial dimension- a place where every not-yet-formed reality exists.
Countless possibilities in his hands will soon be crafted to create his own design.
"I will borrow your word, Coltek." Said Balechtar, sighing. {(Sors Future))
The countless visions in his head begin to swift. The future of these realities has been taken into the fold by Balechtar's words, molting it into a single path of destiny.
It was a future where everything would come to his hand, and everything would be set in stone. It will be a true reality for them as well as the only truth. But for him and Rylazia, it would be a lie.
It will be a lie built upon the truth of this universe. Everything shall be different to serve as a countermeasure for the Great Enemies when they come to this reality.
"My apologies, Issei Hyoudo." Said Balechtar, lowering his tone. "The world will need you but on different lore, Red Dragon Emperor."
His vision is still a distant future, but it will happen nonetheless. With Coltek's power over the Great Ocean, he can see what they cannot. Turmoil and strife will come, but whenever the darkest night comes, the brightest dawn will come afterward.
After the future is made, Balechtar turns his body behind. The village will soon become his realm, a paragon of the Underworld, and a place where every resource for his endeavor would be saved and advanced for the entire world.
He can see it and feels very threads of the universe are unfolding themselves to his cause.
"I wonder what they will do about this?" He mutters, glancing back to the vast expanse of the Balam's territory.
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-A mountain near the village-
Rylazia led dozens of people to build a base for their Lord at the mountainside near the village. Lord Balechtar has particularly chosen this place because it concentrates magical energy all around Balam's territory. No wonder why Lord Octarius choose this place as his farm.
Lord Balechtar has made the entire village into ascended devils. Thus, their power would be paramount for this duty.
The construction of the foundation is nearly complete. The foundation was made from black metal that could efficiently channel magical energy across the Underworld. It will be their headquarters and her Lord's palace—a place where destinies shall be crafted to serve Lord Balechtar's design. Even though the intentions are unknown, she fully believes him. The faith she put in him is unparalleled.
"We have done our duty, Lady Rylazia." The leader of the construction says to her.
"You have done well." She nods, walking toward the construction site. They greet her with respect and fear. It didn't matter if they were much older; they respected her because of her power and position as a higher evolutionary being than them.
She didn't know the exact reason why Lord Balechtar chose her to take this position. But she will never doubt his judgment.
The construction is near complete, but something is missing. Even though this place is full of magical concentration, they all scatter all around the place. Rylazia needs to unite them and sew them into a single place.
But it would be impossible due to the complexity of Underlord's structure. Yet, it was only impossible for those not gifted by Balechtar's blessing.
She only needs one word to shift the entire region to her liking.
{(Automatrix Shift)} The words of creation came from her lips.
The entire shapes of the magical string of the entire Underworld begin to swift into a single region. The complexity of this union is beyond recognition, forming a web of magical energy around them as the entire magical energy across Underworld came into a single place, fully concentrated.
Rylazia can feel the taste of steel in her mouth as red ichor begins to escape from her mouth. She had practiced pronouncing the words multiple times, yet it still damaged her body. The reality-warping power of the words affects her severely, and Lord Balechtar needs to heal her each time she practices.
"Lady Rylazia. Are you alright?" The construction leader asks the girl, giving her a concerned look.
"I'm fine." Said Rylazia in between her breath. "Just do the next phase."
"As your command," The leader nods to his comrades. "Let us begin the next phase."
Thus, they begin the construct the actual building. It will take a long time before the true design will be applied to this building, as Lord Balechtar is the only person who can fully understand the purpose and construction of this building.
The magical energy to support this building is paramount, enough to power the entire cities in the Underworld. No, it would be more than enough to create another Underworld.
It is still an unanswered question for her. But still, the great works must continue. They will never disappoint their master and, for her, their creator.
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-Bael Territory. Bael Mansion-
Zekram Bael is an ancient devil. He was created directly by the original Lucifer, with Lilith as his progenitor cell. At the dawn of his creation, he had been one of the most loyal servants of the House of Lucifer. His power over destruction has taken him into one of the executioners in Lucifer's possession, becoming his guard dog and annihilator.
Yet, it is not until he discovers the truth behind this world and its creation.
Lucifer and Lilith, in fact, were not the first devils. They didn't fall from Heaven as the humans say. The first devils existed millions of years ago when the world was an infant. And from these Original Devils, Lucifer and Lilith got the blueprint for creating the latest generation of devils.
The current generation is weak and pathetic compared to the First Generation. With that discovery, Zekram dug deeper into the rabbit hole and discovered Lucifer himself was the bastardized version of the First Devil.
It enraged him to the point that he wanted to tear them apart using force. Yet, the timing was not there to support him. Thus, he keeps investigating.
It didn't take a long time for him to discover another truth about their existence. Those beings came from outside time and space, riding a white ship of brilliant light. They have many names, but one has deeply interested him.
The Primordial Creators.
They are beings of god-like power. They can shape reality using their might, creating an empire that spans time and space. They are the original creators of this world and then seeding it with the life of countless species.
They have designed the Original Underworld, Heaven, and Mortal Realm. They are also responsible for the creation of the Dimensional Gap. But for unknown reasons, they left this reality.
It made Zekram fall deeper into his own thoughts and theories. He conducted extensive research regarding these Primordial Creators, but unfortunately, no records were left for him to study. When he used all his connections to find other materials to study, they said one thing: the original records had been destroyed.
This disturbed his ancient soul endlessly. Thus, this research has become a hobby for him. He never tired of seeking answers to this mystery.
Even until this day, he is still chasing the answer.
"This document still holds nothing about them, huh." He sighs, putting the document back on his table. "I need some fresh air."
He makes his way to his balcony, opening it as the gentle breeze touches his skin. The tense muscle in his body slowly relaxes. He can feel his energy returning to his body, enabling his mental state to recover. The study is indeed consuming much of his energy, draining him dry.
"The Primordial Creators... The true creators of this world. What kind of creature are you?" He muses, staring long into the horizon.
"If I discover concrete proof regarding their existence, I can shift the balance of the Underworld." He says to himself, clenching his palm deep into his balcony. "Those mad descendants would ruin Underworld forever."
It was true that even though the Original Satans had perished during the Great War, their descendants remain. Those descendants match their cruelty with their parents, but their skills are lacking.
"I have to find a way." Said Zekram, narrowing his eyes in determination.
Before he can return to his chamber, Zekram's body freezes in place. The entire Underworld is moving. Not in a literal sense, but the soul of the Underworld is answering someone.
His status as the progenitor devil of the 72 makes Zekram more connected to the Underworld's essence better than any of his descendants. Thus, he can feel its longing answer.
It was an answer to its long-dead master.
"How is that possible?" Zekram couldn't believe his sense anymore as the phenomenon's scale was beyond his comprehension.
The magical power from all over the region, magic crystals, and even the Underworld's magical veins began to stream rapidly toward a single location.
"It's... No way," He mutters in disbelief. The ancient devil rushes back to his room, seeking one particular record. His hands wrestle with the papers on the table as he relentlessly scans every section of the documents with inhuman precision.
"Found you," He says in relief, opening it.
The document in his hand will most likely provide him with the answer to this bizarre situation. The document is a copy of an ancient parchment he found deep in Lucifaad's library. It speaks about a power that controls the entire Underworld. With these words, anyone can shape the realm as he pleases. When the sentence is spoken, the Underworld shall answer.
The words used in this sentence are few among countless dialogues of the Primordial Creators. They are the Word of Creation calling for the reformation of reality.
"It cannot be." The realization steadily brings him joy as chuckles slowly echo throughout the room.
He can feel the moment to overthrow those ungrateful children from their thrones is nigh. First, he needs to find the user of this Word of Creation and bring him to his cause. But there is something that troubles him at the back of his mind.
"Did they return to their planet after such a long time?" Zekram held his chin, wondering about that possibility with all his mind. If true, he must ensure his position and power to prepare precisely with the revelation.
But first, he must find him at any cost. Zekram uses his magical energy to see where it will lead him. It wraps around the stream of enormous magical energy of the Underworld to guide him to where it will end.
It didn't take a long time until he found the location.
"Balam's territory?" Zekram eyes widen in shock. He grits his theeth in desperation. "Of all the places in the Underworld, why that place?"
It was an open secret that Bael Family and Balam Family didn't like each other. The reason directly comes from him and Lactius Balam, the Balam family's progenitor. They held grudges since their creation due to their opposing element and some scandals when the Great War was still raging across the Three Worlds.
"I will be waiting for now, then. But, sending some agents would not hurt." Zekram smirks as schemes manifest in his mind.
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-Balam Territory. Villages. The Central Forge-
His name is Jyptor Sylas, a local Forge Master who works to maintain infrastructure in his village.
He has been given a mandate from Lord Balam to keep everything in his village running like his wish. But recently, everything has changed completely. He had heard of the unspeakable experiments that were raging in this land. At first, he thought it was just a rumor floating around in the devil society to make up the basic story of devil propaganda. But over time, he learned the truth. The experiment is real. The victims of this cruelty were none other than his brothers, who lived in the Balam territory.
The truth is vague, like the mist of the valley. The truth only reveals itself when some accounts state some sightings of monsters that roam in the plain not far from Jyptor's village. Moreover, the tax of this village also increased exponentially. At first, this was just an ordinary tax, but then it changed to a living energy tax that had to be paid monthly to the tax collector.
It caused his wife to fall into a comatose condition, rendering her beautiful figure fragile. Her once fair and flawless skin turns white, and her blond hair is tattered. The light of life is not present in her eyes anymore.
Jyptor and his wife are expecting a child. Despite their paramount happiness and caution, the reality is much harsher and cruel than anything they could anticipate.
Due to the new taxation policy, they lost their child. Their joy and dream vanished.
Their future is hopeless as no salvation shall come for them. And that was the very moment Jyptor was wrong. Salvation is indeed coming for them in the form of an immortal savior.
He extends his hand at him, promising ascension and power. But those are not the reason why Jyptor chooses to accept his offer. He also tells him about a second chance for him and his wife to acquire their second chance to achieve their happiness. The savior didn't only give them a second but also a third and fourth chance to achieve eternal happiness.
But he demands his service as a Forge Master in his own palace. His grim experience with noble houses made Jyptor skeptical about the idea. Then, it happened. The boy touched his forehead, showing a future brighter than any sun. Thereafter, he whispers a word in Jyptor's ear.
"Lineas."
It was the name of their unborn son that Jyptor and his wife had given to their child when it was five months old. Lineas's name is only known to him and his wife; no one knows except them. But somehow, this boy knows about it.
The boy held more mysteries than anything this world has to offer. Furthermore, he stands above them like they are nothing, exists as a single independent mystery. And that boy is a miracle worker. He healed his wife from her coma, restoring her life force. He makes Jyptor into a higher being than his initial state, evolving into a new form of the devil.
His power rises extensively, reaching Satan-class power. The sheer magnitude of his own power shocks him. As far as he can recall, there are only a few dozen Satan-class devils in the Underworld. Now, everyone in his village has reached the same high as him. Thus, this place will be the power hub of the Underworld society.
But likewise, with great power comes great responsibility. Lord Balechtar has given him a sacred duty to work in his forge. For that reason, he came to the construction site.
It was astonishing how Lady Rylazia could accumulate a massive amount of magical energy in a single place. Moreover, the construction over it is beyond anything he has ever seen. It is made of flawless black steel with blue sigils shining on its surface. The structure emits pure magical energy that exceeds any quality Underworld has to offer.
It took him only a short time to enter a room in the lower part of the structure. Jyprot himself found his master constructing an arcane structure.
"I know you have come here sooner, Jyptor." He says in amusement.
"I answer your call as soon as possible, Milord." Jyptor bows his body in respect.
"That was a good habit, Jyptor. Please, continue to act like that." Lord Balechtar turns his head to him, showing a pleasant smile.
"What is my duty, Milord?" He asks bluntly but still maintains his polite tone at him.
"This place is your new forge room. I give it to you." Said Lord Balechtar bluntly.
"This forge room is. B-But, Lord Balechtar. I am just an ordinary Forge Master, and furthermore, I am not skilled as those in Lucifaad." He argues with eyes widening in disbelief.
"It was irrelevant. I choose you to take this role due to your deep potential." The half-devil tells him with a slight smile.
"My potential?"
"I have seen it with my own eyes. Your soul has much greater potential but was buried deep in your forgotten nature." Lord Balechtar approaches the confused devil, touching his chest. Then a warm sensation surges in his body, giving him insight into countless designs of various constructs.
"What..." Jyptor could not believe any of his senses as his mind was bombarded with innumerable information.
"You are born to see the true intention of any construct, and thus, enable you to learn them and recreate them. Your responsibility is to learn and create tools for your race's destiny." Lord Balecthar makes a warm expression on his face, calming the pure-blooded devil.
Jyptor couldn't say anything as his eyes never left his master's gaze. His eyesight is genuine, imposing countless emotions that Jyptor himself fails to recognize. Yet, he feels something about that meaningful gaze resonates with him.
"As you wish, Lord Balechtar." Jyptor nods his head, making his way to the forge. He picks up the hammer, steeling his resolve.
Now, every power from across the Underworld is at his disposal. He will use it to accelerate Lord Balechtar's plan and design. He touches the forge, drawing power from it as a piece of metal comes from it.
A single strike hits the metal.