As Lucian lay in the bed provided by none other than the local Devil president herself, his thoughts began to wander.
Why was Sona treating him so well — offering comfort, hospitality, even warmth — as if she wanted to befriend him?
The obvious answer came to mind: she wanted him in her Peerage.
But that didn't sit quite right. Sona wasn't the type to extend such personal interest over something so transactional. Yes, she had a few normal humans among her ranks, but she wasn't fixated on them the way she seemed to be on him. No, something about him had caught her attention. Something she couldn't quite explain — or perhaps had already deduced.
He immediately ruled out the System. There was no way she could perceive it. As for the Essences… he wasn't sure if they carried any detectable properties at all. That left only one suspect — his Unique Skills. In particular, Extraction, which he had used right in front of her.
Sure, he could argue that he should have expected her to notice, but honestly, he hadn't been trying to hide anything. Maybe it was arrogance — though a certain kind of arrogance could be excused when you were, in a way, the one who had created this world. It came with the territory of being a creator, or perhaps the illusion of one.
Still, the thought lingered like a paradox at the edge of his mind. Was he really the one who created it? Or had he simply commanded its creation, guided probabilities across the endless Omniverse until this reality crystallized? A world born not just from will, but from bias — his bias.
He sighed softly.
Whatever the truth, there was no point in worrying. He would keep gaining Essences over time, and that meant his uniqueness would only grow. In a world like this, where divinities and demons walked freely, there were countless ways to deduce someone's nature. Anyone with an Ultimate Skill could probably take one look at him and know what he was, assuming their ability leaned toward analysis.
Still… he wanted one of those Ultimate Skills for himself. Not because he needed it — in truth, his System gave him far more than any mortal skill could — but because it felt right. When in Rome, do as the Romans do. And when in Tensura — or a world that had the Tensura verse woven into its fabric — becoming a Demon Lord seemed only natural.
Of course, there were complications. His race, for one. Humans couldn't become Demon Lords. And then there was the soul count — the thought of slaughtering thousands just to reach that threshold was enough to disgust him. He wasn't going to start a massacre simply to fulfill a curiosity.
He smirked faintly at a different thought.
If he became a Devil, though, that could change things. A Peerage of his own — the idea had a certain appeal. What if he gathered people from all the other worlds? A peerage with Merlin, Ais, Shion… the thought carried a strange thrill, a patchwork of power and legend bound under his command.
Yet even as his mind wandered toward impossible futures, sleep refused to claim him. The bed beneath him felt oddly uncomfortable, the air too still, too artificial. The memory of Midnight Inn crept into his senses — its warm, ambient aura, its beds soft enough to sink into thought itself. Compared to that, Sona's carefully arranged guestroom felt sterile.
Eventually, he gave up on the idea of rest.
One night back there won't hurt, he decided.
With a faint shimmer of magic, Lucian vanished from the room.
---
In the same house — the Sitri residence — Sona sat awake at her desk, eyes fixed on the soft glow of her computer screen. A digital chessboard reflected in her lenses, a familiar comfort amid the quiet. She made a move, then paused mid-click as something subtle yet unmistakable tugged at her senses.
Lucian's presence had vanished.
Her brow furrowed, logic already weaving through possibilities. She didn't want to intrude on his privacy — but she remembered what he had told her earlier: that he had been teleported here without warning. Could it have happened again? Or worse, had he been dragged to yet another unknown location?
She rose from her chair, walked briskly through the silent hall, and knocked at his door. Once, twice. No response. She hesitated for a heartbeat before opening it.
Empty.
The mana signature was gone — completely gone. And that was what unsettled her most. If he had teleported, there should have been residual traces of magicules in the air, faint distortions, lingering heat in the weave. But there was nothing.
That meant one of two things: either the phenomenon was of a type far beyond her understanding, or it was something intrinsic to him.
Her analytical mind spun with calculations and conjecture, yet a quiet unease undercut it. She didn't like this kind of uncertainty — especially not when it involved someone she had personally vouched for. Someone who, despite all her measured detachment, intrigued her.
She sighed softly, pulling out her phone.
If he had vanished again, then it was best to alert the others. She couldn't afford to lose a potential Peerage member — not one as unpredictable as him.
---
Meanwhile, Lucian slept soundly within the tranquil glow of Midnight Inn, blissfully unaware of the ripple he'd caused in Kuoh Town.
Lex, ever watchful, noted the Sovereign's arrival with a hint of amusement.
And far from Kuoh, the tapestry of worlds continued to weave itself.
In the vast expanse of the Cardinal World, nestled within a sleepy village untouched by the chaos of kings and gods, stood a quaint tavern. Its walls were built of timeworn oak, its lanterns glowing with gentle amber light that spilled across cobblestone streets. The sign above its door swayed softly in the evening breeze — Boar Hat.
Inside, the air was alive with laughter and warmth. The tavern's owner moved behind the counter, golden hair catching the glow of firelight, a smile of practiced ease curving his lips. To most, he was simply a cheerful barkeep, the kind of man who could ease a heavy heart with a drink and a joke.
But beneath that laid-back demeanor lurked a power few could comprehend — the boundless might of an Awakened Demon Lord. Unlike others of his kind, he had long since stepped away from the machinations of Demon Lords and their councils. In truth, he had never truly joined them. Strength, to him, was not a crown to wear, but a burden to bear.
So he lived quietly, surrounded by clinking glasses and mortal laughter, letting the world believe he was just another face in the crowd.
Yet fate, as always, had other plans.
As twilight deepened into dusk, the faint echo of battle reached the tavern's edge — the clang of steel, the roar of armored knights. The barkeep's eyes narrowed, gold flashing crimson for the briefest instant. He set down the glass he was polishing and vanished into the night.
Moments later, under a bleeding sunset, he stood amidst the aftermath — blades shattered, armor scattered, air thick with residual magicules. Before him, a woman with hair as pale as moonlight struggled to stand, her white gown torn and stained with dust.
Meliodas, the Dragon Sin of Wrath, had once again found his beloved.
The tension in his gaze melted as he reached out, catching her before she fell. The world seemed to still — the wind halting, time itself holding its breath — as golden light flared around them, not divine, but purely his own. A power neither holy nor demonic, but born of unyielding will and endless cycles of love and loss.
And beneath that crimson sky, the tavern owner and the goddess met once more — two souls bound by a fate that not even the Cardinal World itself could rewrite.
Southward, beyond Britannia's green plains and deep forests, lay the Great Jura Forest — a living labyrinth of mana and mist. Within its depths, beneath layers of ancient wards, a sealed cave pulsed faintly with golden light.
There, within that isolation, an unusual Slime stirred to life for the first time.
And yet, the most peculiar change to this reborn Cardinal World was not in its heroes or monsters — but in its geography.
A continent now existed where none had before.
Small, remote, and a weather that was quite nice— lying to the west of the Ice Continent. But despite its size, it could hardly be called unimportant. Beneath its frozen crust lay a labyrinth descending a hundred floors deep — a prison, and a seal.
There slept Ivarage, the most powerful monster in existence, bound in a slumber so deep that the world itself forgot him.
Even the creatures born from his leaking magicules were enough to threaten kingdoms. And in one of the cities in to this continent, a young man stepped through Orario's gates for the first time — a boy with white hair and crimson eyes filled with wonder.
He would soon find his goddess.
A small one, with a smile that could shake the fates themselves.
That was the destiny of this world — threads interwoven by design and accident alike.
Yet somewhere beyond those threads, the one who had commanded their creation slept soundly, unaware that the fate of gods, monsters, and mortals alike would soon turn toward him once more.
A/n: I know this chapter doesn't feel like much...Nothing much happened but it's also kinda necessary for showing Lucian's personality and a bit more world building.