For the Flügel, one fact was easy to understand.
Whether this eternal war would end was decided not by the Sixteen Races writing history upon the chessboard, but by the Old Deus.
They alone were qualified to raise the Star Grail, because the so-called laws were both the authority of the gods and the world itself.
The earth had gods, the oceans had gods, and acquired concepts such as war and forging had gods as well. Every concept that already existed was an embryonic Old Deus.
What determined their strength was merely the degree to which the prevalence of their phenomena activated their Divine Cores.
Thus, upon this land shrouded in ceaseless war since its birth, the God of War who had created them had surpassed all those gods of innate concepts and seized the title of strongest.
Under such favorable conditions, Jibril knew even secrets that other races considered taboo like the back of her hand.
"Although I can't find any flaws in you-after all, no matter how I perceive you, whether through your presence or your level of power, everything warns me that you are an Old Deus."
Jibril smiled, her tone perfectly calm, as though she were stating a fact.
"But judging by my past experience, I think you're merely an unknown existence draped in the concept of a Divine Core, just like that Divine Beast."
Had her fellow Flügel heard Jibril's words, they would surely have been astonished.
Rejecting or even questioning established conclusions was difficult for the higher races to understand. After all, those experiences were founded upon facts.
As living beings, their innate strength and capabilities had all been predetermined. Unless they were exceptional individuals like the first Flügel, they would never perform beyond their specifications-for instance, challenging a Dragonia alone.
Because that was