The first method of advancement.
There was not much to say about it.
It was the very method Orsaga himself had used back then.
After all, he had not been born a lucky chosen one already qualified to advance, with a seat waiting for him to claim it.
In essence, the first method was a heart-stopping gamble.
Under normal circumstances, asking a Great Demon to take on a High-level plane?
If the plan was merely to grab some loot and run.
That was manageable. Though risky, it still had a decent chance of success. The key was a surprise attack: as long as the local powerhouses had not reacted yet, or the haul was small enough, there was a fair amount of hope.
But if the goal was to take everything?
Then you could prepare his funeral before he even entered the fray.
An ant devouring an elephant.
It was not utterly impossible, but it was all but impossible...
Barring any surprises, that scenario could practically be called a hands-on trial of every possible way to die.
Disaster, disaster, and more disaster...
Some died miserably, some pathetically, some peacefully...
The ways they died were endlessly varied.
Only an infinitesimal handful of lucky ones could carve out a tiny chance of survival amid the disaster.
And among those already vanishingly few survivors, only a fraction so small as to be almost nonexistent had a chance to turn the tables in one fell swoop, wipe out every native powerhouse, and thereby advance to Abyss Lord.
Take Orsaga back then, for example.
Had anything gone even slightly wrong along the way, an early grave would have been his only destination.
He could have dropped dead on the spot at any moment.
If Orsaga had not been wearing the guise of the Emperor—that local