Divine Right of Various Anime and Manga

Liliana, standing beside Erica, looked at her best friend in disbelief. She had just been genuinely moved by Erica's bold stand, only to realize that her friend had calculated everything, even using her and their "Bronze Black Cross" as pawns in her scheme.

The other magicians and knights who hadn't seen through Erica's subtle scheming also felt a chill run down their spines, ashamed of having thought Erica was 'upright.' This woman was no righteous knight; her inner heart was like a 'demon's.'

Erica was truly frightened now. Her delicate body trembled as her thoughts were laid bare, and she feared Roy's anger at her actions and intentions.

"Punishment? No, no, Lord Erica, you need not fear. From ancient times to the present, subjects have always had to fathom the 'King's' heart to become those the 'King' favors. You discerning my thoughts is not wrong, but you must know when to stop. Do not use this wisdom in the wrong place."

Roy gave Erica a deep look, then glanced around and said, "...So, my lords, have you reached any conclusions from your discussions?"

As he spoke, Roy deactivated his Authority, restoring "Bronze Black Cross" Supreme Commander Diana Milito to her original form.

"Bronze Black Cross" Supreme Commander Paolo Brentari stood first, placing a hand on his shoulder in a knight's salute. "...The 'Bronze Black Cross' wishes to join your ranks, honoring you as our Alliance Leader!"

"The 'She-wolf' wishes..."

"The 'City of Lilies' wishes..."

"The 'Bronze Black Cross' wishes..."

"The 'Blue Eagle' wishes..."

"... "

In the blink of an eye, six of the seven magic societies present swore allegiance to Roy. As for the one absent, it had no other choice.

"Excellent, my lords. Then I shall issue my first task here: exhaust all your resources in Italy to find traces of Metatron!"

"...Next, intensify excavation and archaeological work on the ruins within Italy, seeking out true ancient Divine Artifacts!"

With these words, Roy rose from his chair. He glanced at Erica, still kneeling on the ground, and said, "...Lord Erica Brentari, you have indeed piqued my interest. Your wisdom and methods are recognized by me. Come to the Vatican tomorrow to work for me, and I will grant you and the 'Bronze Black Cross' the status and favor you deserve."

The assembled magicians and knights stood respectfully on both sides, watching Roy's red figure disappear from the conference hall as he left the 'She-wolf' headquarters and returned to the Vatican.

Having secured the allegiance of the Seven Sisters and brought the headquarters of Christianity under his command, Roy could now be called the true 'King of Italy'!

Chapter 17: The "King" Understands People

On a Roman street, a specially customized luxury car moved slowly. "Bronze Black Cross" Supreme Commander Paolo Brentari looked at Erica sitting beside him, his refined and gentle expression tinged with complexity. He spoke in a low voice, "...Have you made your decision, Erica? This New King is different from Lord Salvatore; he is closer to Marquis Voban and the Eastern Cult Master. Following him will not be simple."

Erica was the only daughter of Paolo's elder brother, and the two were the last blood relatives of the Brentari family. He had always done his utmost to protect his niece, who possessed top-tier talent and brilliance.

But Paolo also knew that Erica, with her independent nature, would not be willing to follow the path he had set for her. When the time came, she would surely leave his protection and walk alone down a road to an unknown future. And now, that time had come.

"This is a decree from the New King himself. Even if I were unwilling, what could I do?"

Erica's tone made it sound as if she were being forced by Roy, but her expression was full of fighting spirit, even a sense of eagerness, as if she were challenging some difficult problem—and she, Erica Brentari, would surely be the victor.

"Rest assured, Uncle! I believe that with my abilities, even if the New King is as ruthless and willful as Marquis Voban or the Eastern Cult Master, I can still earn his trust and favor, as long as I am careful in my daily conduct."

"...This is our best chance, Uncle! The New King has just ascended and is in need of trustworthy, direct subordinates. Becoming the New King's right hand at this time is an opportunity for both me and the 'Bronze Black Cross.' The centuries-long struggle with the 'Bronze Black Cross' can finally come to an end, and victory will belong to us!"

Erica's gorgeous face radiated youthful, moving beauty and the absolute confidence of a maiden. This sight secretly comforted Paolo, and he even silently offered solace to his brother's spirit in heaven, knowing his daughter had grown enough to stand on her own.

Seeing that Erica had her own ideas, Paolo stopped dwelling on the issue. After a moment's thought, he asked, as if testing her, "...What are your views on the New King and Lord Salvatore?"

"Lord Salvatore is not a qualified Alliance Leader. His eyes see only 'the sword' and 'battle.' Two years ago, I met Lord Salvatore shortly after his successful slaying of a god. Though it may be disrespectful to say so, his mind is indeed troubled."

Erica paused, then used this very unflattering term to describe the King of Swords.

"Precisely because Lord Salvatore's mind is filled only with battle and the sword, he is actually easier to deal with. He will absolutely not care about our 'betrayal'; at most, he will seek out the New King for a spar. And because of his personality, even if we became his subordinates, we would gain little benefit, not even real protection."

"...But the New King is different. From the information and our interactions, the New King is a person with strong 'desires.' Therefore, as long as we can win his favor, we will surely gain his protection, and even use the New King's name to expand the influence of our 'Bronze Black Cross' even further."

"Lord Salvatore does not understand people, but the New King understands what we need!"

Erica spoke with conviction, analyzing the situation based on 'human' nature, her reasoning clear and logical.

Though Campione are unmatched by mortals, they are ultimately human. As long as they are human, they have their own interests and hobbies. Find that point, and one can get along well with a Campione.

On the Tyrrhenian Sea off the west coast of Italy, an ultra-luxury cruise ship sailed across the horizon. Fish darted beneath the waves, seabirds called in the air. Roy sat in a lavish, spacious observation room enjoying lunch, taking in the beautiful ocean scenery through the transparent glass walls all around.

The observation room was very modern, more like the living quarters of a five-star hotel, with an office-style mahogany desk, extremely soft circular sofas, and a large bed. Bottles of wine lined the bar, and a huge LCD TV on the wall played a program.

Roy sat at the dining table, using a knife and fork to savor a tender, premium steak, seasoned with Italian Alba white truffles, indulging in the pleasure on his tongue.

He was a man who knew how to enjoy life. When conditions allowed, he would never shortchange himself. Now that he was a Campione, money had become a mere external object, and Roy would naturally enjoy the most expensive and exquisite things the world had to offer.

For over twenty years before his transmigration, Roy had been an ordinary person. Occasional indulgence was possible, but not every meal could be a feast. After transmigrating to the world of A Certain Magical Index, sixteen years of life could be described as frugal. Just having enough to eat each day was satisfying; he never dared to hope for more.

Now that he had the chance, Roy would naturally let his tongue and taste buds, which had suffered for sixteen years, feel pleasure. He was no ascetic monk who forswore women and fine food.

"Knock, knock, knock—"

A knock came at the observation room's hatch. Roy knew who it was. He put down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and said, "...Come in!"

The hatch opened, and a maiden entered, dressed in a red gown as proud and noble as a phoenix. Her feet were clad in matching red high heels, her jade feet and calves covered in white woolen socks. Though only a slender section of her beautiful legs was visible, it was enough to stir a desire to hold them in one's palm.

A full red outfit could easily come across as vulgar, but on Erica, it was entirely different, exuding only the innate aura of an aristocratic heiress.

"Forgive me for disturbing your meal, 'King'!"

Erica lowered her head and bowed slightly. Not counting his over twenty years before transmigration, Roy was now just a young man in the prime of his youth. His gaze unconsciously fell upon the maiden's neckline, where the heart lay.

But Roy was not so easily driven to lose his composure by such a slight exposure. He withdrew his gaze and asked with a smile, "...Is there something, Lord Erica?"

"We will soon arrive at Ponza Island. According to our 'Seven Sisters' investigation, Metatron is currently on that island. I came to remind you, hoping you will be in top condition before your battle with the god."

Erica spoke like a steward reminding her master, delivering her advice with solemnity.

"Thank you for the reminder, Erica... Filling one's stomach before battle is an ancient precept observed before all wars. So, would you care to join me for a meal, Lord Erica?"

Roy gave a slight nod, accepting Erica's reminder, and extended an invitation in turn.

"I am deeply honored by your offer, but as your personal knight, propriety dictates that I should not dine at the same table as my liege."

Erica maintained her elegant composure, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Knight? Hahaha, Lord Erica, I don't recall having granted you the title of personal knight."

Roy chuckled, rising from his chair and pushing it back. He walked step by step until he stood before Erica, meeting the sapphire-like eyes set in her delicate, beautiful face.

Chapter 18: "True Wisdom"

Erica's lashes trembled—a maiden's instinctive reaction to being locked in someone's gaze.

Roy held her stare for a long moment, then reached out. To Erica's astonishment, a ripple formed around her, and he drew forth her beloved sword, 'Lionheart.'

This act left Erica deeply surprised. She had kept 'Lionheart' hidden with magic, and Roy had drawn it not through Divine Authority, but merely through sorcery. She hadn't expected his magical skill to be so profound.

"Surprised I know magic?"

Roy examined the rapier 'Lionheart.' By any measure, it was an exceptionally powerful Magecraft Artifact. "...A fine blade. Though not a divine weapon, it stands as a pinnacle among Magecraft Artifacts."

"I truly did not expect 'His Majesty' to possess such deep magical mastery. I had assumed one who wields Divine Authority would have little regard for magic."

Erica offered a flattering remark.

"Authority is, in essence, a form of magic. The difference is that both Disobedient Gods and Campione can instantaneously complete and deploy this Great Magic. A magician might achieve the same effect, but it would require dozens or hundreds of people working for days or months."

After becoming a Campione, Roy had gained the capacity and naturally didn't neglect magical knowledge. He wasn't arrogant enough to believe Authority was inherently superior to magic. In truth, Authority was merely an advanced application of magic—compressing a Great Magic that required lengthy rituals into a single brief Word Spirit.

The reason Authorities unleashed by Campione and Disobedient Gods were so terrifying was simply that they possessed a quality and quantity of magical power far exceeding ordinary magicians.

Though Authorities were convenient and powerful, if asked to explain their principles, not a single Campione could do so. Campione were merely users; this power had never truly belonged to them.

If one only needed to live in this world, wielding Authority as a Campione was sufficient. But Roy had grander ambitions. Merely applying Authority could never satisfy him. Thus, he would learn all knowledge he could, pursuing "True Wisdom."

He had no need to explain this to Erica. After admiring this masterpiece of the world's Magecraft Artifacts, Roy leveled 'Lionheart' against Erica's pale throat.

In that instant, Erica felt a chill at her neck, the fine hairs standing on end. As 'Lionheart's' owner, she knew its sharpness well. With the slightest pressure from Roy, her beautiful head would fall.

Yet even so, with her life in Roy's hands, Erica showed no tension or fear. Instead, she relaxed her body as much as possible, refusing to avert her gaze, striving to meet his eyes.

She was a face of youthful yet noble beauty, like a blooming flower.

Slowly, Roy moved the longsword to rest on Erica's shoulder. At that moment, Erica knelt on one knee, her posture exactly that of a knight receiving investiture.

Roy lowered his head in thought, then gave a wry laugh. "...Well, I don't know the proper ceremony for knighting a knight. But a token gesture will do. From this moment on, Erica, you are my personal knight. I hope you will henceforth conduct yourself by the code of chivalry, for you now represent 'me.'"

Roy twirled the sword in a flourish, reversed his grip on the hilt, and offered 'Lionheart' back to Erica.

Erica let out a soft breath as she took the sword, an unconscious joy spreading across her features.

As she had anticipated, this New King lacked trustworthy people to handle his daily affairs. Over the past few days, Erica had proven her decisiveness and competence, successfully entering the "King's" line of sight.

As one of only seven Kings in the world, Roy had many matters to attend to. For him, the most important was absorbing knowledge. He had no leisure to deal with mundane affairs, nor could he abandon everything like Salvatore.

The Italian magic societies had sworn fealty to him. As their "King," he had an obligation to grant them greater glory.

Thus, Roy needed someone capable enough to handle his daily affairs. Erica had performed well these past days, and her pleasing appearance was a bonus. Compared to a male secretary, Roy preferred a female one.

After all, a secretary was for work—and for when work was done.

Roy, hands in his pockets, walked to the observation deck and gazed at the small island not far ahead. That was Italy's Ponza Island.

Beneath the cliffs on one side of Ponza Island lay a small town reminiscent of Venice, with a permanent population of only four to five thousand. It was a tourist spot, though not particularly crowded even in season.

"Finally here. I can already smell the Disobedient God."

He murmured.

In a small local restaurant on Ponza Island, Roy was savoring a cup of cheap, mediocre coffee.

Across from him, Erica, dressed in her red formal attire, sat upright. A cup of coffee sat untouched on the table before her as she awaited Roy's orders.

"This island seems sparsely populated. Not even tourists."

Roy remarked, gazing at the sea view outside the restaurant.

"After learning Metatron was on this island, the Seven Sisters Alliance had the Italian government ban tourism here. We've also evacuated as many of the four thousand residents as possible. The few hundred who refused to leave—we've left them be."

The magic societies led by the "Bronze Black Cross," with their headquarters in Italy, cared deeply about the nation's stability. In fact, all magic societies worldwide treated disasters like Disobedient Gods with utmost vigilance.

"I see. Ponza Islands have been a place of exile since ancient times. From Emperor Nero of Rome exiling his wife Octavia here, many emperors used it as an island of banishment. Even Mussolini was exiled here in the early twentieth century... For Metatron to choose such a place to hide and recover—could it be that He, too, seeks self-exile?"

Hearing Roy's loud laughter, Erica did not respond.

She only felt the heavy stone in her heart finally lift, allowing her to relax completely.

These past days, she had been tense, working for Roy, terrified that any negligence or mistake would provoke the "King's" wrath. But after two days of contact, she found the "King" was not as cruel or violent as imagined.

No, the "King" was still a capricious, moody Campione. But this "King" was someone who separated public from private. In private, his temperament was quite gentle. As long as one didn't cross his bottom line, he rarely grew angry. Truly worthy of being a monarch.

But when handling official matters, he would appear extremely cold-blooded, stopping at nothing—even ruthless—fully displaying his demeanor as a 'Demon King,' an absolute hegemon.

Having gained a preliminary understanding of Roy's personality, Lord Erica believed she could now handle him perfectly: revering him during work, and in private, as long as she didn't overstep her station and maintained basic etiquette, she wouldn't anger the 'King.'

Though he was moody and unpredictable, he was by no means the type to unjustly impose guilt on the innocent.

"'King,' Metatron is now..."

"No need to speak, Lord Erica! My blood is already boiling, my mind already urging me on—like a beast catching the scent of blood. To a Campione, the smell of a Disobedient God is far too rich."

Roy's gaze sharpened as he looked toward the high platform of the island.

Metatron was there!

"Wait for me, heretical angel. I will slay you here!"

Chapter 19: "Saint Martha Subdues the Dragon"

Ponza Island was not large, with a total area of only about seven square kilometers and a highest elevation of roughly three hundred meters.

Roy and Lord Erica walked through the island's sparse woods. The forest was not dense, and because the island was small and a tourist attraction, its seven square kilometers had long been fully developed by locals. Paths carved by people were everywhere; even an Ordinary Person could traverse it without difficulty.

Walking through this thin woodland, the roar of the sea tide came faintly. The birds that usually circled and cried overhead had long since fled the island, as if those wild animals had already sensed that a terrible battle was about to take place here.

The oppressive atmosphere was heavy, weighing on Lord Erica's inner heart. But Roy looked relaxed, one hand in his pocket, wearing his splendid red archbishop's robe as he walked along the earthy, fragrant path.

"Lord Erica..."

Lord Erica, who had been somewhat distracted, snapped to attention, brought back by Roy's call. Without realizing it, she found herself two steps behind him.

She quickly stepped forward, composed herself, and said, "...What are your orders, 'King'?"

"I was just reminding you that you were spacing out... Let me ask you one more time: are you really not leaving here? Do you truly wish to witness the battle between a Campione and a Disobedient God?"