Harry accepted the steaming cup of tea from the maid, flashing her a warm, genuine smile. "Thank you," he said.
She blushed fiercely, dipped into a quick curtsey, and hurried away, clearly overwhelmed by the attention of a Devil King.
Harry took a slow sip, savoring the rich, slightly smoky flavor of the Earl Grey as he leaned back in his comfortable chair. Just across from him sat Princess Alice, bright, barely composed, and elegantly framed in the ornate room. And beside her, enduring the scene with monumental, strained dignity…
Harry's smirk widened.
Alexander Gascoigne, the Black Prince, slouched in his seat. The rapidly healing black eye he sported was still a stark purple ring around his right orbital bone, most of the wounds he got were already almost gone.
The bruises had already faded significantly, annoyingly fast, in Harry's opinion, but the memory of beating the arrogant bastard senseless still filled him with a deep, visceral satisfaction.
'Two wins to one, just wait, you son of a bastard, I still owe you another beating'. Oh, he wasn't done yet, he lost to this fucker twice, he was going to give him back twice the beating, but that was for another time.
Harry knew he'd leave their next fight for another time, right now, it would only count as still one. Alexander was utterly subdued for now, and that was victory enough.
Alice tried, she really tried, to maintain her impeccable composure, her shoulders trembling subtly. But every few seconds, her gaze flicked to Alex's marred face, and the corners of her lips twitched dangerously, betraying her. She looked like a child trying to suppress a giggle in church.
Then it happened.
The containment failed, and she burst into full, uncontrolled laughter.
"Pff—BAHAHAHAHA! I—I can't—!" She slapped her knee, nearly doubling over in her chair. "Oh my! Lord Black Prince, you look—! You actually look like you lost a tavern brawl! I've never seen you look so... pedestrian!" she roared in laughter.
Alex glared murderously at the Hime-Miko's spirit body, his single good eye narrowed into a deadly slit. That only made her laugh harder. He looked exactly like a wounded beast, unable to strike out.
Anya stood alert behind Harry's chair, as his knight, perfectly still, but the faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her lip betrayed how much effort she put into keeping a straight face. She was secretly enjoying the Fourth Campione's humiliation.
Harry set his teacup down, amused by the chaos he had wrought.
"So, Princess," he started, shifting his attention to the blonde-haired figure. "I hear you wished to speak with me."
Alice wiped a tear from her eye, recomposing herself with supernatural speed, her expression instantly shifting back to serious curiosity.
"Yes. I've been trying to meet you for an entire year," she said with a genuine pout. "Yet it's like you've been avoiding me. I have met all the other Kings except you. I could not reach you, or even find a way to approach you."
Harry blinked, genuinely confused by her persistence.
"I assure you, I have not made any conscious attempt to avoid you at all," he told her, and it was the truth. He didn't even see why he should, as he hadn't known she was looking for him. "So why were you looking for me?"
Alice studied his face for a long moment, her expression shifting to a profound seriousness that instantly silenced her own laughter and even dulled Alexander's glare.
"Then I will get straight to the point…" she said quietly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Do you know of the Holy Grail… and the King of the End?"
The teacup froze halfway to Harry's lips.
The warmth in the room evaporated instantly. The air thickened, heavy and suffocating, it felt as dense as lead, pressing down on every living thing present.
The entire room seemed to be consumed by a single, crushing weight as it seemed to affect the weaker people in the room. The servants buckled first, and several collapsed with faint gasps, unconscious before they hit the floor. Even Anya staggered, clutching her chest as she felt an icy grip close around her very soul, it was like it was trying to force her to kneel.
Alice held steady, her spirit form shimmering faintly but maintaining its poise.
Alex straightened violently in his shock, eyes narrowing, all traces of anger and pain gone, replaced by sudden, intense interest. After all, he had been searching for the grail for a while now, so this could be of some help..
The suffocating pressure snapped back to normal as Harry exhaled, forcing the invisible pressure away.
His voice was cold as carved steel, lacking any trace of his earlier warmth.
"…Why are you asking that?"
Alice blinked at him, completely unperturbed by the pressure he'd momentarily unleashed.
"So you do know about them. Tell me what you know, Lord Harry," she pressed.
Harry scowled, jaw tightening in displeasure.
"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, rising from his seat. "I'm not involving myself in that madness."
Alice stood quickly, startled by his abrupt dismissal.
"Wait, you're just leaving?! After reacting like that? At least listen!" she cried, truly baffled.
"I already decided," Harry said, his voice flat.
He had already told himself long ago that he was not going to involve myself with these matters.
He glanced at Alexander, who was now watching him with sharp, hungry curiosity.
"I only came to teach this idiot a lesson, nothing else, and now that I have, I'm leaving," he said to her.
Alice's face twisted in shock. "You can't just pretend this doesn't concern you! You're a Campione—"
Harry shrugged dismissively. "And?"
Alice sputtered, completely losing her composure. "And?! The King of the End kills Campiones! He will die and you will die too!"
He gave her a lazy half-smile, a hint of something in his emerald eyes.
"Yes. He will come for me. So?"
Alice stared at him as if he'd grown another head, unable to comprehend such utter detachment from self-preservation.
Alexander, meanwhile, rubbed his sore jaw thoughtfully. The Black Prince looked oddly fascinated too, not concerned, not afraid about the situation too, just intrigued by both the Kings of End and the grail.
Alice tried again, urgency spiking her voice.
"You know something is wrong, don't you? There are nine Devil Kings in the world now. NINE. This has never happened before," Alice said.
"The King of the End should have awakened already, to purge all Campiones from the world! But he hasn't appeared. Something is interfering with the cycle, prophecies not like they used to, and it keeps pointing to you."
Of course, something was wrong.
Harry didn't deny it. He had a feeling he knew why.
The King Who Manifests at the World's End was more of a title, or a destiny, given to the hero who assumes the God-slayer extermination fate. Harry knew that the current King of the End was Rama, a terrifyingly powerful Heretic God of Steel.
The man who sleeps for centuries before waking up, wiping out all Campiones, and returning to his slumber. He was a being defined by a single purpose: their destruction.
Harry mentally reviewed the known details, recognizing the sheer scale of the threat Alice was referring to.
Firstly, Rama was armed with the Divine Sword of Salvation, the very weapon of extermination for Devil Kings. Its possession was the ultimate right bestowed upon the King of the End.
Secondly, he wielded devastating Authorities.
The Great Ritual of the Old Covenant: This was the worst. His power would rise proportionally to the total amount of God-Slayers existing in the world. When activated, his body continuously released divine lightning at random. Imagine a being made to fight you is equal in power to the sum total of your kind's existence.
White Star: He could create a terrifying white star that resembled a mini-sun. This star launched deadly, light-natured projectiles with enough destructive power to easily destroy mountains and level large tracts of land the size of a city in an instant. The Authority also had the ability to poison any Devil King that survived the initial impact, blocking their ability to use their immense magical power and Authorities for a significant amount of time.
Divine Lightning of Salvation: Generated from the blows of his sword or falling steadily from the heavens, these rays also possessed the poisoning ability. A Campione without a Steel body Authority would not be able to withstand two consecutive blows of this ray, and dodging it required a Divine Speed Authority.
The threat was absolute, there was no denying that, yet Harry's decision remained fixed.
"What happens with the King of the End," Harry said quietly, pulling his mind back to the present. "Has nothing to do with me," and he meant it.
Alice balked.
"How can you say that?! He is the greatest danger to your existence!"
"Because…" Harry stretched casually, rolling his shoulders, the movement radiating complete, utter relaxation. "It won't affect me. At all."
Alice's jaw dropped. She stared at him, her beautiful eyes wide with shock. Anya stared at him like he'd gone utterly mad, her control finally slipping as a wave of pure alarm washed over her.
Alexander chuckled under his breath, a slow, grudging sound. Even for Harry, this attitude was the height of insanity and arrogance.
"I'll take my leave," Harry announced, his business concluded. "Thanks for the tea, Princess. It was excellent."
He turned to the door, his movements fluid and unhurried.
"Harry," Anya finally found her voice and called out to him as she followed him out. "Is it really-"
He cut her off with a gentle, reassuring smile, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Don't worry. How about we go on a date right now?"
Anya froze, cheeks instantly turning pink at the implications. The immediate gesture of affection short-circuited her panic.
Alice sputtered, pushing herself out of her chair. "W—Wait! You can't just walk away! The fate of the world—your fate—!"
But Harry was already moving, ignoring what she was talking about.
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