The timeline is about 100 years before the first chapter.
The point of view is that of the Demon King.
Sometimes dreams of the demon king (past) are mixed in.
“Stand up.”
Even if told to stand up, I no longer have the legs to stand or the arms to lift my body.
My body, blown away in an instant, has long since lost the ability to “stand.”
“…Hmm, recovery does not seem possible. You are indeed fragile.”
Saying so, she coldly casts a healing spell on me.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had a guest. Entertain me a bit more.”
That beautiful smile was, to me, terror itself.
…I woke up from a nostalgic dream.
What now feels nostalgic was a nightmare at the time.
I can’t count how many times it made me wake up in a fright.
Now, it feels merely nostalgic, but when we were enemies, it felt like the most terrifying thing in the world.
I leave my bed to prepare breakfast.
In truth, I neither need sleep nor food.
Yet, I meticulously maintain a routine of three meals and snacks, not out of nostalgia for my human days, but simply because, without it, the excessively long hours would drag on unbearably.
This meal, too, holds no real significance as sustenance.
I merely shape my magical power into the form of food and consume it, only to revert it back to its original form.
When I think about it, it’s quite a hollow endeavor.
…I have lived in this world for a long time.
And I will continue to live for much longer.
Eternal life is a prison.
…Of course, this is the path I chose myself. I won’t now lament being locked in this prison.
Now then.
After breakfast, as usual, I sat down alone in front of a chessboard.
Initially, when I taught Fianna chess, she was terrible at it.
Though she learned the movements of the pieces in just one conversation, she seemed to have no grasp of strategy whatsoever.
Yet, after several games, she became reasonably competent, which makes me think that the notion of her being an omniscient, omnipotent goddess must indeed be true.
…This chessboard and pieces were made by Fianna.
Before she bestowed magic upon this world, she said, “Consider this a parting gift,” and left it behind.
This chessboard moves the opponent’s pieces on its own, allowing one to play against another intelligence, even when alone.
Its movements exactly mimic those of Fianna when we played, and perhaps a part of Fianna resides within it.
Therefore, I never tire of it.
Day after day, even though I move the pieces in the same way, the opponent’s pieces move in varied and unpredictable manners.
Their strategies closely resemble Fianna’s play style.
After finishing a game, I go outside.
I cannot escape from this abyss, but wandering around my home is allowed.
…The abyss is this world’s self-purification facility.
However, it no longer functions entirely on the magic of the “Azure Sky Flower” or the magic drifting within the abyss.
Collecting enough magic might have been manageable, but gathering it was a chore.
Thus, now I have set up a simple mechanism at home to absorb magic, to which I supply my own power to make do.
If I stray too far from home, the stagnation fails to purify, so I cannot leave my home, or rather, the abyss.
…Since Fianna gave magic to this world, the stagnation has increased.
At the same time, perhaps happiness has increased as much, but that is not for me to know from the abyss.
Was it worth destroying Fianna herself to protect the humans of this world?
Or, to put it more broadly, was this world worth it?
…This is a question I have pondered countless times, but the conclusion is always the same.
“Fianna did so.” That’s all. That alone compels me to accept it.
She loved this world and its people.
That is the only outcome left for me.
When I approach the gate, Cerberus wags its tail and comes closer to me.
Though it could go anywhere, it chooses to act as a gatekeeper and has stayed here all this time.
…Shortly after Fianna left, I created it on a whim, but the consumption of magic was indeed too great.
Keeping it with me consumes my magic.
…Right after it was born, it devoured my magic without restraint. It seemed unaware of the concept of moderation.
And because this significantly affected the purification of the stagnation, I let it go outside once it grew a bit.
As long as it lives off the magic from creatures of the abyss, it doesn’t use my magic.
Having tasted the emptiness of that moment, I have since refrained from creating life.
…A long time ago, back in my original world, I had a goldfish that died.
Similarly, I thought I would never keep another living creature again.
I truly never learn.
After lunch, I sit alone in front of the chessboard again.
Now, this chessboard is one of the few things that provides novelty in this abyss.
There is no day or night in the abyss.
Although I can know the exact time using a clock, such a thing is of little use.
There is life in the abyss, but none dare come near this area.
The only life within my reach is Cerberus, whom I created, and plants that grow naturally in the abyss.
They live on their own without any intervention from me. There’s no need to care for them.
Would it have been different if there was something that required my care?
…I can already see it turning into another situation like with Cerberus.
I eat dinner and take a bath.
It’s an unnecessary act for a body that doesn’t metabolize, and I was never much fond of bathing, but now it’s one of my few entertainments.
Like with meals, focusing on bath salts can make bathing a fully entertaining activity.
Submerging oneself in the bath made from one’s own magical power might sound mundane, but being embraced by a warmth that is not my own was comforting.
The Abyss lacks warmth.
Primarily, its creatures are cold-blooded.
The Cerberus I created is one of the few exceptions.
The exceptions are Cerberus, myself… Ah, and that’s where it ends.
Even plants and minerals that serve as light sources emit light but not heat.
I must clarify, I do not dislike the Abyss. On the contrary, I find it preferable.
The monotonous life is not something I detest. Even if I grow weary, it does not trouble me excessively. Perhaps it’s because I have deviated from humanity.
Yet, sometimes I feel an intense loneliness.
I go to sleep.
Dreaming is also one of the pleasures when sleeping.
What will I dream about tonight?
…Even if it’s a dream where I am beaten to death or crushed, I wish to see a dream of her.
“…I have done something foolish.”
“I don’t think so.”
She looks at me with a pleased yet angry, ambiguous expression.
My appearance has drastically changed.
My hair, once black, has turned silver, and my eyes, also black, have turned red.
It’s the result of becoming closer to a demon than a human. And yet, being more demon-like brings me closer to the gods.
This might allow me to live for thousands of years, but it still doesn’t compare to the lifespan of a god like her.
No matter how close I get, she remains a distant existence.
“Do you understand? Eternity is a prison.”
I have heard this advice as one imprisoned in that eternity countless times.
Yet, I still chose this path.
I couldn’t bear the thought of dying and leaving her behind, no, becoming “one of those who left her behind.”
“Isn’t it better than being alone?”
She spat out those words with an ambiguous expression, as if she was laughing angrily or crying.
“You are indeed foolish.”
Yet, her voice still contained a hint of joy.
“You had no obligation to accompany me.”
“I did it because I wanted to.”
She closed her eyes and then lifted her face.
It was her usual, confident expression.
“Even so, part of the blame lies with me. Well, I will take responsibility for that. Let’s do our best to ensure you do not find eternity too tedious.”
That smile was far from terror.
…In the end, that promise was broken.
Or perhaps, this chessboard is the result of that promise.
She has lived longer than I have.
The concept of time for a god is utterly beyond my comprehension as a mortal being.
I have often felt the difference in perception between her and myself.
Maybe she thought that a chessboard could keep me entertained for about 300 years.
…No, perhaps, she had shifted my status from “a being to be protected” to “a member of her kin.”
Was it her intention to involve me in the affairs of this world to that extent?
Would it be presumptuous to consider this her form of love?
After all, she is a god and loves this world equally.
