A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

The path of the Fool is one the Wise dare not tread.

Prometheus, the embodiment of foresight, represents the wisdom of humanity.

Epimetheus, the embodiment of hindsight, represents human folly.

Fear is humanity's greatest wisdom. It teaches us to recognize strength, to understand the meaning of retreat, and to survive in perilous circumstances. Through fear, humanity has found paths to endure, grow, and ultimately prevail.

Yet as Roy faced Michael, deep within his soul, a primal terror surged—a fear that screamed at him to flee, warning him of the catastrophic power of the being before him.

A wise man would have turned and run, for challenging an indomitable force is never the way of the wise. Only a fool would charge forward, blooming brightly for an instant like a summer flower, only to be crushed by the object of their fear.

It is impossible to defeat Him.

A mortal can never triumph over a god.

This is truth.

But only a Fool can find the miracle hidden within that truth.

"The Book of the Law, Chapter 1, Verse 11: 'The people praise the Fool, for they and their gods are all Fools.'"

"...And the word that ends all is—Abrahadabra!"

Roy recited the words from the Book of the Law and activated the ritual hidden within its verses.

"Ugh—!"

As the ritual began, Roy felt blood rise in his throat, spilling from his mouth.

The Book of the Law was no ordinary grimoire. It carried lethal toxins—not material poisons, but the spiritual corruption of alien knowledge. For those who couldn't comprehend its truths, even glimpsing its pages could lead to death.

This book encapsulated the essence of Aiwass's knowledge—an incomprehensible archive of truths beyond mortal understanding. Its myriad false solutions acted as a defense mechanism, preventing the unworthy from deciphering its secrets.

But Roy, the Fool, had managed to grasp one fragment of the truth and invoke it correctly. The knowledge coursing through him was like venom, inflicting near-fatal agony.

"Foolish mortal, this is not the path humanity should tread. Allow me to show you the folly of your actions!"

Michael, who had been preparing to pursue Metatron, was drawn to Roy's audacity. Seeing the human abandon fear and charge forward with reckless courage, Michael instantly understood his intent.

Michael was the victor in his battle with Metatron, not a defeated god teetering on the brink of death. For a mortal to slay a Heretic God, the god must first be brought low. Yet even a dying god is beyond a mortal's reach, for god-slaying is the domain of miracles.

"Since you will not heed reason, you shall meet the same end as all fools. Prepare for your demise!"

With a casual gesture, Michael summoned the sacred flames of heaven, flames capable of consuming all in their path.

To Michael, this was a mere flick of his power.

To Roy, it was an apocalypse.

"AAAAHHHHH!!!"

The pain was unbearable. Roy's skin burned to ash, peeling like the shedding of a snake, revealing raw, bloody flesh beneath. The agony coursing through his nerves reached his brain, forcing him to scream in torment, a desperate attempt to vent the unbearable pain.

His body yearned for unconsciousness as a defense mechanism, but Roy resisted with sheer willpower, clinging to the last shreds of awareness and sanity amidst the inferno.

Though the flames were powerful enough to reduce Roy to nothing, the Book of the Law shielded him. The cost was unimaginable pain. His flesh charred almost completely as he staggered out of the sea of fire, closer to his goal.

He was now only ten meters away.

Michael, a paragon of righteousness, was momentarily stunned by the sight. On his perfect, handsome face, there appeared a flicker of surprise.

"Fool, I must commend your courage and resolve. But this ends now."

Michael raised his crimson cross-shaped sword. This was the blade that had slaughtered 150,000 Assyrian soldiers, the sword that had imprisoned the ancient dragon Satan, and the sword he wielded in the final battle of Armageddon.

It was the sword of the Archangel Michael, the most radiant and celebrated figure in Christian mythology.

The strike was unassuming in its simplicity. Yet the divine power it carried could rend any mortal to pieces.

Michael paid no mind to the shard of the Spear of Longinus clutched in Roy's right hand. While it was indeed a weapon capable of killing a god, it required the god to willingly forgo resistance—an impossibility in this scenario.

A mortal, even armed with a god-slaying weapon, was like a baby wielding a blade. Against Michael's perfect divinity, Roy's efforts were doomed.

This battle, like countless others, was another inevitable victory for Michael—the angel of victory itself.

"Activate the grand magic—'Angel Fall'!"

At the moment Michael's sword was about to strike him down, Roy triggered the ritual he had prepared.

For one fleeting second, Michael's divine status was forcibly stripped from him, reducing him to the station of a mortal under the Kabbalistic sphere of Malkuth—the Kingdom.

Though the ritual lasted only a second, it was enough to decide the outcome.

Roy didn't try to deflect Michael's sword. Doing so would have robbed him of his chance. Instead, he shifted his body just enough to let the blade pierce him, missing his heart by mere centimeters.

If Michael's sword had retained its divine nature, Roy would have been obliterated instantly. But under the effect of Angel Fall, the sword became a mortal weapon. It dealt grievous injury but didn't kill him outright.

Roy, gravely injured, used the last of his strength to press the shard of the Spear of Longinus into Michael's chest.

The ritual ended, and Michael's divine essence returned. But it was too late. The shard of the Spear, imbued with the power to slay the Son of God, activated within Michael's core.

The impossible miracle occurred.

Michael's radiant face froze in shock for a brief moment before breaking into laughter.

"Well done, Son of Fool! This is the end I have long awaited. To return to the embrace of the Lord, to once again serve at His throne."

"I am Michael, the 'One Like God,' the angel of victory. I bestow upon you my blessing and my curse."

"Carry my invincibility forward. With my fearlessness, destroy all that lies before you—until the final end arrives!"

Roy vaguely heard Michael's voice before collapsing into unconsciousness from his injuries.

The birth of a Campione—a god-slayer—was complete.