It was still that same time slot, and that same nondescript livestream room.
Under the watchful eyes of the masses, Orsaga casually answered the "Screw Society" hotline in front of him.
"Go fuck your mother!"
The voice on the other end didn't report a location—it just spewed a string of furious, tongue-twisting curses.
But Orsaga wasn't the least bit offended. After all, in the Abyss, that level of vulgarity wouldn't even qualify as warm-up trash talk.
He pointed his wand at the microphone.
Then, with a casual "biu~" sound from his mouth—
A loud splat rang out from the other side of the line, sounding like a watermelon exploding. The barrage of insults was instantly cut off.
Killing someone over the phone? Hardly a challenge for him.
Lowering his wand, Orsaga addressed the audience with serene composure:
"Unfortunately. Our brave warrior has fallen. Now then, let's begin the lucky draw segment…"
As he spoke, a large box materialized in front of him.
He poured in a pile of little balls, each inscribed with place names, for all to see.
"Let's see which lucky audience members are up next…"
---
One Hour Later
Though all factions had made ample preparations, hoping to intercept Orsaga's actions…
In the end, the arm was no match for the leg.
That location was still reduced to rubble.
For many who witnessed the destruction firsthand, a deeply rooted belief was shaken:
"Life is precious, but freedom is worth more."
Because let's face it—when the one with the biggest fists speaks, that's the truth.
Orsaga's actions had taught them a brutal lesson:
When you're under someone else's roof, you bow your head. Power is truth.
And so—
People immediately began falling over themselves to serve as his vanguard, leading the chorus with fervor.
They called on their nations to take responsibility for their people's lives. If they couldn't stop the enemy, then better to surrender outright and minimize casualties.
But where there are spineless cowards, there are always those with steel in their spine.
Opponents stood up right away, denouncing the surrender advocates as cowards.
The two sides—diametrically opposed—soon broke into shouting matches, and even outright brawls.
Blood was spilled.
After all, failing to fight external enemies is one thing—but failing to keep internal order is another.
Not many dare to punch a tiger—but beating up fellow citizens? Almost anyone can do that.
Thus, all kinds of chaotic scenes unfolded—sometimes even more intense than Orsaga's side.
He hadn't even attacked some regions yet, and they were already tearing themselves apart from within.
---
Following the Failed Interception of the Second Round
Nations reconvened again.
Because in-person meetings were too risky—someone might just blow the whole place up—this one, too, was held remotely.
The topic of discussion:
How to deal with the countries that had surrendered first, and how to respond to the growing public unrest worldwide.
After that first domino of surrender fell, things deteriorated fast. Both internal and external tensions exploded simultaneously.
Midway through the heated discussion—
A shadowy figure suddenly appeared behind the British Prime Minister.
The other participants were instantly alarmed, trying to interrupt the Prime Minister.
But the unexpected figure merely pushed him aside—no harm done.
Appearing clearly on the webcam, the man greeted everyone calmly:
"Good day, gentlemen. My name is Gellert Grindelwald. I come bearing the goodwill of the Magical World. We've come to discuss an alliance—together, we stand a better chance against Orsaga."
"??"
Some delegates were briefly stunned—but quickly composed themselves. After all, they'd long had vague intel about some hidden 'magical world.' There just hadn't been any solid breakthroughs—until now.
Others, however, looked utterly baffled.
What the hell was a "Magical World"?
But that didn't stop them from hearing Grindelwald out.
After all, he wasn't standing in their office.
If the talks fell through, the British Prime Minister would be the one in trouble. All they could do was sit and watch.
So, apart from the rattled PM, the rest of the group soon calmed down.
They listened as Grindelwald explained the nature of the Magical World, and how wizards coexisted with regular humans.
---
Ten Minutes Later
After a rather bumpy exchange, everyone finally got a rough understanding of the Magical World.
An uneasy consensus was reached.
The U.S. representative spoke up:
"So, to summarize. You'll handle the magical side of the threat, while we tackle Orsaga physically?"
Grindelwald shook his head and clarified:
"He's far more powerful than we are. At best, we can nullify some of his spells. That's precisely why we've come to seek your cooperation."
Another delegate pressed on:
"Then pardon me for asking. You say Orsaga caused trouble for you… What kind of trouble, exactly?. Why now, of all times, would your people choose to come out of hiding?
You didn't even show yourselves during the World Wars."
Grindelwald chuckled. "Well... everyone's entitled to a few secrets, aren't they?"
He didn't mention anything about the [Divine Vessel] or divine beings.
Because those two words—divine being—symbolized power and immortality.
They represented the pinnacle of human dreams.
The ultimate temptation for mortals.
If people found out Orsaga was a god...
Then the number of surrendering nations would skyrocket.
And when it came to the so-called "blessings" of gods, power-hungry individuals would do anything.
Sell out their country, their people, their blood relatives? All just routine.
History has always been full of such tales.
Some of them false—but many, unfortunately, true.
And so, to keep his faction from falling apart before the real battle began, Grindelwald decided to keep the truth under wraps.
Despite his evasive response, the delegates didn't press further.
They all knew perfectly well:
Interrogation wouldn't yield anything. And if they pissed him off, they'd just lose another potential ally.
After another round of negotiations and data cross-checking, the nations reluctantly agreed to a temporary alliance with the Magical World.
Thus, the True Earth Coalition Army was born.
They even hammered out a few long-term policies—
Like guidelines for how wizards and ordinary people would coexist in the future.
---
A New Day
Orsaga lay lazily in bed, sipping sugary soda and casually playing video games.
Everything he had—the snacks, the console, even the chair—was taken from supermarkets via "zero-dollar purchases."
Why not take advantage? Waste not, want not.
Meanwhile, the diligent wizards were working overtime, rushing to assemble the basic components of the Temptation Tower.
Eighteen-hour workdays.
Orsaga didn't expect them to do anything too complex.
In this world, Transfiguration Spells came in two varieties: permanent and temporary.
But regardless of type, the prerequisite to conjure an object was understanding it completely.
Otherwise, you couldn't replicate it, no matter how hard you tried.
For high-tech components—like microchips, for instance—
Even if Orsaga transmitted the necessary data, the wizards couldn't make them.
They didn't even understand the concepts behind the data.
Which is why they were best suited as simple laborers—nothing more.
Yawning, Orsaga set down his controller and turned his head toward the window.
Soft sunlight streamed in from outside.
He could feel it clearly. Today was the turning point for the world.
'Let's hope there's a surprise…'
he thought idly.
_____
T/N:
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