A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

Standing atop a snow-covered peak in the Alps, the view stretched endlessly into a world of pristine white. A biting wind blew through the landscape, stirring the snow while animals, their fur blending with the surroundings, prowled the harsh terrain in search of prey.

In the midst of this frozen expanse, a figure cloaked in vibrant red stood out starkly against the white backdrop. Roy, adorned in his resplendent cardinal robes, walked beside Athena across the snow, their footprints forming a dense trail.

The presence of the two sent waves of unease through the wildlife. Predators and prey alike, sensing danger, abandoned their natural instincts and fled together to the safety of the distant mountains. In this moment, even the unyielding law of the wild was broken, as these two beings were far removed from ordinary mortals—they were living disasters.

"Frost and sunshine, what a beautiful day! My lovely friend, you are sleeping. It is time, my beauty, to wake up! Open your eyes that have been closed by peace!"

Roy stood on the summit of a snow-draped mountain, his voice resonating in the vast emptiness as he recited Pushkin's verses with gusto.

"Hahahahaha!" His unrestrained laughter echoed through the peaks, triggering a cascade of snow and terrifying the creatures below into even greater frenzy.

"That's enough, Roy Crowley!" Athena's cold voice broke through. "This place is far enough—it will not disturb the ignorant mortals nor endanger your servants' lives."

After their leisurely breakfast, Roy and Athena had ventured deep into the Alps. Their casual conversation and deliberate pace gave the impression of two companions on a stroll rather than sworn enemies preparing for battle.

By now, the sun had risen high in the sky, casting its faint warmth over the icy wilderness. At last, they came to a stop at a secluded peak, the serenity of the morning giving way to the cold edge of confrontation.

"I assumed," Athena said, her sharp amber eyes fixed on Roy, "that someone as audacious and self-indulgent as you, who dares to harbor improper desires toward a goddess, would have no regard for the deaths of mortals. Yet it seems you possess a strange kind of compassion."

Athena stood a few paces ahead of Roy, her silver hair catching the sunlight in soft waves. Without her usual rabbit-ear-like hat, her regal presence shone even brighter amidst the pure white snow. For a fleeting moment, Roy felt as if he were not facing Athena, but Artemis herself.

"Because they are my subjects," Roy responded evenly, "and they have devoted everything to me. As their king, I must grant them mercy. If circumstances made it unavoidable, that would be different. But as long as I have a choice, I won't let harm befall my people.

"…I am the Devil King on Earth, a willful and tyrannical ruler. But tyranny does not mean senseless slaughter. I am no butcher who delights in killing. So long as they neither oppose me nor defy me, I see no need to take lives for sport."

With a flick of his wrist, Roy tossed the Gorgoneion into Athena's waiting hands. The ancient relic (also called grimoire) gleamed as it landed in her grasp. "Here it is, Athena—the Gorgoneion. You've waited a thousand years for this moment, haven't you?"

Athena's fingers traced the surface of the badge as her expression lit up with unrestrained joy. Her radiant smile was almost mesmerizing, her divine beauty magnified by her triumphant aura.

"You will regret this, Roy Crowley!" Athena declared, her amber eyes narrowing with intensity. "You will regret handing me the Gorgoneion."

"And I might say the same to you, Goddess Athena," Roy retorted, his tone cold and unyielding. "You will regret choosing to stand against me. Enough talking—the Gorgoneion is yours now. If you want to make me regret it, prove it with your actions."

Roy's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a steely resolve. Though he often joked and jested in casual moments, he knew better than to underestimate his opponents in battle. Here, there would be no room for error.

Athena's lips curved into a chilling smile, her voice rich with amusement and power. "Hehehe~ Feel honored, Roy Crowley! Witness my true form!

"In the name of Athena, let night descend here! Dispel the sun's blessing, extinguish the fire of Prometheus, silence the thunder of the sky, and plunge the earth into shadow. Let the heavens glow with stars and the black winds arise, recreating the ancient night!"

As Athena's commanding voice reverberated through the air, the noonday sky dimmed and transformed into an eternal night. Countless stars adorned the black heavens, their light flickering coldly in the absence of the moon. Only the faint starlight offered a hint of illumination, faint and otherworldly.

This was the primeval night—an ancient calamity long since subdued by modern civilization. But now, under Athena's divine invocation, the calamity returned, unfettered and overwhelming.

The pristine white of the Alps was swallowed whole by the pitch-black void. Whirling black winds howled across the snowfields, rustling Roy's crimson robes with forceful gusts.

With a deft motion, Athena tossed the Gorgoneion high into the air. The ancient relic, a symbol of her primordial identity, glowed briefly before merging into her body.

"I seek only the Gorgoneion. Athena shall now reclaim the ancient serpent!"

The aura of 'serpent' intensified around her, and in the shadowy skies above, flocks of owls emerged. They were creatures of the night, unaffected by darkness, soaring jubilantly through the air. Their numbers multiplied as if celebrating the goddess's triumphant resurgence.

Under the cascading starlight and the enveloping night, Athena's transformation began. Her childlike form matured with astonishing speed. The loli-like frame gave way to that of a vibrant maiden, then further evolved into the stunning visage of a young woman, appearing no older than eighteen.

Her once short, practical hair unfurled into cascading locks of silken silver, shining faintly in the darkened night. Her modern attire dissolved into a classical Greek ensemble—a long, flowing white toga made of the finest silk, which accentuated every curve of her divine form.

A delicate floral wreath adorned her head, and her robe revealed snow-white shoulders and exquisitely carved collarbones. Athena's figure, now fully matured, exceeded even Erica's in her divine beauty. Her sharp, commanding gaze radiated both the majesty of war and the wisdom of ages, cutting through the darkness like a blade.

"What do you think? Is my true form to your satisfaction?"

With her tall, slender frame, fair complexion, and noble bearing, Athena epitomized elegance. Her bare jade feet rested in intricately woven sandals, stepping lightly on the cold ground as though it posed no discomfort.

A gentle fragrance wafted through the air, and Roy caught a faint whiff, his nose instinctively twitching at the intoxicating scent. The goddess, brimming with victory and pride, stepped gracefully toward him, her movements as fluid as a stream of moonlight.

Suddenly, Athena rose onto her toes. Her lips parted slightly, releasing a breath fragrant and sweet, as though she were a maiden confessing her love. She wrapped her slender fingers around Roy's head with deceptive tenderness, her expression soft and captivating.

Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper: "...Roy Crowley, Son of Fool, let me bestow upon you the blessing you crave."

Her delicate form exuded an irresistible force. She leaned closer, the warmth of her breath brushing against his skin.

In that moment, the very air seemed to still. The world froze as darkness and death descended together.

A woman's charm is a weapon sharper than any blade, and none know this better than Athena. Throughout history, many kings and warriors have succumbed to the charm of a woman's embrace. But the charm of a goddess? That was a weapon that could destroy even the strongest of men.

The sweet intoxication of her charm was lethal. Heroes' graves are often dug in the land of gentle affection, and now, Roy felt the weight of that truth.

As Athena's divine aura pressed down on him, his breath faltered, his life force dwindling bit by bit. Darkness enveloped him entirely, the goddess's soft touch tightening like an unbreakable chain.

Athena's gaze, radiant and deadly, bore into Roy, her tender smile concealing the lethal intent beneath. In her touch lay the perfect balance of warmth and death—a goddess's unparalleled weapon, refined over millennia.

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(Roy: Damn it, its not even Death by Snu-Snu but just a kiss. Tsk!)