A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

Roy felt a flicker of unease, though his outward demeanor remained composed, feigning ignorance of his own peculiarity. Was Pandora testing him?

He wasn't sure, but even if she harbored suspicions about him, or somehow deduced Aiwass's existence, Roy no longer cared much. He had already obtained the most fitting and powerful authority for his goals. Acquiring additional powers no longer appealed to him. His focus, alongside Aiwass, was on breaking the upper limit of his current abilities rather than pursuing sheer quantity of authorities.

Still, if possible, Roy preferred for Pandora's Usurpation ritual to continue. Each iteration provided him and Aiwass with invaluable insight, accelerating their analysis.

While these thoughts swirled in his mind, Pandora pressed a delicate finger to her crimson lips, her expression one of playful curiosity.

"...Only enlightened individuals among humanity—those who have truly awakened—are capable of retaining memories of this place," she mused. "But such individuals could never become Campiones. So how is it that my little Roy can accomplish this?"

Her voice, soft and brimming with affection, used the nickname as though she truly saw him as her child. With a tender smile, she moved her finger to trace lazy circles on Roy's forehead. She spoke in a tone brimming with motherly indulgence:

"...Well, it doesn't matter. If my little Roy can remember this place, that's even better. It means I can share some secrets with you."

Roy felt no resistance to Pandora treating him as her son. Before his reincarnation, his biological parents had passed away long ago. And in his previous life, his memories of family were faded and fragmented. Across both lifetimes, Roy had lived only around thirty years—fleeting compared to Pandora's millennia. If she wanted to call herself his "mother," there was no harm in indulging her.

What puzzled Roy, however, was the enigmatic nature of Pandora herself. Was this "mother of Campiones" an individual of unfathomable scheming, or truly as whimsical as she seemed? He couldn't tell yet.

"What is it you wish to tell me, Pandora—"

"Call me Mom!" she interrupted with a pout, her slender fingers pinching his nose in mock chastisement. Adjusting her position slightly, she made his lap pillow even more comfortable, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"...Fine. Mom," Roy conceded.

"Good boy," Pandora giggled, her laughter like the chime of mischievous bells. She leaned down and placed a light kiss on his forehead, the brief sensation both comforting and strangely intoxicating. But her expression soon turned serious.

"My sweet, obedient son, I don't want you to fall into danger. Let me share with you something important about the gods you might face."

Her tone shifted, carrying a gravitas that demanded attention.

"Listen closely, Roy," Pandora began, her fingers softly stroking his cheek as though comforting a worried child. "I'm going to tell you about the origins and types of gods.

"In ancient times, back when human society was still matriarchal, women held the highest authority. They were the bearers of life, the nurturers of the tribe, and the backbone of production. In that harsh era, when survival was humanity's sole focus, women were naturally revered. Thus, the first gods to emerge from human belief were predominantly female—goddesses."

Roy lay silently, absorbing her words. He didn't interrupt, letting the surreal juxtaposition of lying on a childlike goddess's lap while hearing profound truths about divinity settle over him.

"As human civilization advanced," Pandora continued, "tools were created, and most importantly, steel was forged. With weapons of metal, men's superior physical strength became paramount in hunting, warfare, and survival. Societies shifted from matriarchal to patriarchal systems.

"This transformation was mirrored in the divine realm. The once-revered goddesses found their power and status diminishing. Many were relegated to the roles of consorts, daughters, or subordinates to male gods. The most tragic among them fell even further, transformed into monsters—dragons or serpents.

"You've heard many myths about dragon-slaying heroes, haven't you, Roy? Marduk defeating Tiamat. Susanoo vanquishing Yamata-no-Orochi. Perseus slaying Medusa. Siegfried overcoming Fafnir. Even Michael imprisoning the ancient dragon, Satan. These legends symbolize the rise of male dominance. The heroes, wielding their 'steel,' subdued and supplanted the once-mighty goddesses."

"Gods can largely be divided into three categories," Pandora explained, her fingers gently tracing circles on Roy's face.

"First, the ancient earth mother goddesses—those with the attributes of dragons and serpents. Second, the steel heroes who rose to power by slaying these deities. And finally, the myriad other gods, born of the conflicts and interactions between the two."

Pandora's voice grew quieter, tinged with melancholy. "I created the Ritual of Usurpation to grant humanity the power to slay gods. But in response, the gods forged their own countermeasure—a covenant to empower a single being: the strongest of steel.

"The King of the End. The Last King."

Her gaze darkened, and her tone turned grim. "The Last King is the gods' chosen champion, the ultimate enemy of all dragons and Campiones. Whenever the number of Campiones becomes unmanageable, the Last King awakens. By sacrificing an ancient goddess as his offering, he gains the power to eradicate every Campione.

"Many Campiones have existed throughout history, Roy. None of the oldest ones survive to this day. All have been slain by the Last King."

"Now," Pandora continued, "there are seven Campiones in the world—more than at any time in history. The awakening of the Last King is inevitable. My dear Roy, you must be careful. Against the strongest steel, even I can do nothing but cheer for you from afar."

Her voice trembled with sorrow. It was as if she were a mother lamenting the inevitable suffering of her child.

"Why do you care about me so much?" Roy asked, his tone tinged with genuine confusion.

"Because you're my child, of course," Pandora answered warmly.

"But you've had many 'children,' haven't you? This era alone has seven Campiones, and over the millennia, there must have been dozens," Roy countered.

Pandora giggled, her crimson lips curling into an affectionate smile. "Oh, but you're different, my darling Roy. Smart, obedient, and so utterly charming. Even for me, you're one of a kind."

"Now, be a good boy and close your eyes. Remember everything I've told you. If you do, Mommy will give you a reward."

Her sultry yet tender voice was impossible to refuse. As Roy felt her slender arms cradle his head and her soft breath draw closer, the Ritual of Usurpation began anew.