The future was ever-changing.
The past was ever-changing.
Even the present was constantly changing as well.
So-called time, so-called reality, so-called rules...
Nothing was truly immutable.
As long as one had enough power, falsehood could become truth, and truth could become falsehood.
Even among Demon Lords, Orsaga ranked among the stronger upper tier.
Orsaga's will had long since extended into countless futures and countless pasts. Like some colossal beast coiled within the cracks of time, it constantly sifted through the possibilities he required, examined their benefits and drawbacks, then turned them into reality to a certain extent, fixing them within the present and bringing them forth in advance.
And it was precisely because of this.
Though he was not absolutely flawless.
He was absolutely flawless in relative terms.
Like something that continually optimized itself with unimaginable efficiency, the weaknesses mortals spoke of held no meaning whatsoever for him.
In other words.
His very being.
To himself.
Was something that could be defined at will.
So long as he wanted to and was willing.
He could be any race.
He could possess power of any nature.
He could even remotely manipulate most of his past experiences, guiding events into changing.
Thus.
His strength.
Was necessarily beyond dispute.
Even OAA and Gann could not afford to overlook him.
So-called erasure through time or killing him before he could grow were nothing more than boring jokes.
As a race innately capable of touching the Power of Time and Space.
That sort of threat was, most of the time, less useful than a fist.
At present, as Orsaga continuously flipped through the book in his hands.
Most of his attention roamed freely through the chapters of the future.
The vast future held infinitely many possibilities.
Within it, infinitely many events yet to occur were