Demon Lord. There was a certain pressure to those words. Claire knew them only from novels, but Via knew them from history. No matter which, they were powerful beings with the ability to destroy a world. Silence descended upon the trio. It was hard to continue a conversation once the words were mentioned—especially if you conjectured someone of being that destructive being.

In the end, however, Claire merely shrugged at the situation.

"It doesn't matter, Demon Lord or not, whatever you are, you're still Alicia."

Though she said that, Claire admitted to herself that she did really think Alicia was a Demon Lord. It made sense but, like most things, she didn't care. Plus. . .

'She's my partner. My cute partner.'

At her statement, a smile tugged at the corner of Alicia's visible lips as she showed a fang.

"I knew you would say that," She said.

"Then you know me well."

". . .get a room, you two."

Claire rolled her eyes and turned back to the bunny, looking for more information. If Alicia even had a chance of being the Demon Lord, then maybe she ought to take this world a bit more seriously, less some heroes come swinging their blades at them both.

"So, practically speaking, the tower is a trial that picks possible party members for the heroes, right?"

"Basically," Via nodded.

Claire held her chin and mused, "Does that not make no sense, however? Are there not quite a lot of heroes already, as far as I can tell, what's the need for the regular masses to join in? Could they not party with each other?"

At her statement, Via laughed.

"Together? Don't be silly. The heroes aren't companions, they are competitors working against each other. The first to complete his or her 'Story' not only retain all their power but also devours the powers of the others. There can only be one hero. The current numbers merely exist to shift through and find the best, and the tower exists to find companions to help their chosen hero compete with one another."

The bunny chuckled, "Two heroes have already been killed by Lain, Hero of Light. If that was teamwork, then I can only laugh."

"Now that's surprising. . .and different from the usual plot. . ." Claire said, her eyes widened specifically at the words 'Hero of Light' as she remembered Feith's desperation. "Then, which hero is winning right now?"

Via grinned, a playful smile on her lips.

"If your friend is really the Demon Lord, then you should be worried because the one and only Sword Saint is currently winning. There are only two chapters left to his story and, let me tell you, you don't want to fight him."

Claire and Alicia glanced at each other, both remembering 'A Single Strike Against the Heavens.' The boy in the vision from days passed had slashed down, breaking air and space, slicing and severing a behemoth beast into two. It had been so effortless as to look like he merely divided butter.

"I've fought him before when he was a new adventurer. I didn't even blink and there was a blade at my throat." Via stared at the tower. "In my haste, I tried to chase after his back, but the Trial of the Hero was more difficult than I thought it would be."

The bunny's ears slumped and she glanced back at the two girls, her lips hanging an awkward smile.

"And, just like that, I lost my chance forever. He wouldn't even spare me a glance after that failure of mine."

A girl popped into being, white hair flowing behind her as her feet landed upon a stone column. She grinned and crouched, staring down below her.

Amidst the center of a ruin, where stone and rubble laid scattered, and a temple remained brittle, a boy sat, legs folded and eyes closed. The air twisted and vibrated around him. From time to time, rips and tears formed as if slicing through the fabric of space itself. A thing she found mesmerizing even to this day.

Like most things, spatial abilities always manifested themselves in different ways depending upon who wielded them. If she were a calm flame, he was a raging fire ready to burn the forest around them if he allowed himself inattentive for even a moment. Fascinating, she always thought, how he had managed to create a Sword Art from something so chaotic inside of him.

Deep in thought, a fizzle shredded the air and she found a hurtling mass of purple energy headed straight for her person.

She smiled and raised a finger as the rip in space stopped before her, closed, then disappeared from the world.

"." She spoke.

At that moment, the surroundings froze and calmed. The rips in the air around the boy disappeared altogether. And thus, both of them existed within a space she controlled.

The boy finally opened his eyes after that action.

"Bam. . .why are you here?" He asked immediately upon sighting her figure, expression cold as ice.

The girl grinned in the face of the only person able to pose a threat to her. After all, it was rare to find someone with the power to attack and rip through space.

"The Demon Lord is awake."

The Sword Saint narrowed his eyes. His lips opened.

"Remove your domain and let me return to my training."

Bam Veronica laughed.

"Always so curt. Always so cold. I expected that reaction of yours," The girl spoke with a tilt of her head and smiled.

She stood from her crouch, then jumped.

"See you around, Sword Saint, don't go tearing off your arm again~"

Before she touched the ground, the world regained its movement and she disappeared.

The Sword Saint closed his eyes back without a moment of thought as the ruptures in the space around him resumed. Behind his figure, a sword of purple floated, shuddering in and out of reality and tearing its own personal area in the world.

"I merely miscalculated."

It was the initial creation of that sword which destroyed his right arm.

"Just like that, a piece of the puzzle falls to place as the game begins," A handsome male spoke, lifting a glass to drink red wine.

Dressed in a white tuxedo, he sat upon a white couch, azure eyes fixated on a pool beneath them. All around him was an endless space void of color.

"Aren't you happy?" A woman scoffed, far left to his side. She uncrossed and crossed her long legs as her flaming red-hair flapped behind her with a run-through of her fingers. "I suppose cheaters are content to be."

Micheal revealed a thin smile and eyed the woman.

"I picked the Demon Lord. He decided on the fairy. And you chose your heroes. Each one of us met another's choice in some way or another, evaluated them, and your guardian seeds became the randomized chaos mixed in. Is it not wholly fair?"

He continued even as her lips shook, betraying her calmness. "Which will the fairy choose? To save a world, or to let it die to keep her partner. Isn't that the greatest tension of all?"

The goddess frowned, then scoffed.

"The destruction of my world will depend on who she chooses you say? Do you look down upon my heroes that much? Or my Guardians? Do you think those two groups will just step aside and let her do as she pleases even if she doesn't choose them?"

The blonde headed male raised a brow, shook his head, and calmly continued, "She's already set to take one of your Guardian roles, is she not? Soon enough, the Water Seed will belong to her."

"Only through your manufacturing, Micheal, only through that. If it weren't for her initial placement, that would not be the case."

The angel-pretender shrugged, "I simply leveled the playing field. My bet still rests on her. I'll sit tight and await your divinity."

At that moment, an old man who sat between the two, his body robust and larger than them both, stroked his beard and spoke.

"How are you two so certain Alicia will move to destroy that world?" He asked, smiling. "How are you so certain Claire won't do so in her place?"

Both Micheal and goddess Ishtar raised a brow. That was something neither of them supposed. The two glanced at the old man, stared at each other, then inconspicuously moved their eyes back to the pool—their expressions uncertain.

"Pluck the light from the dark and only the dark remains," The old man spoke and took a swing from his gourd. "As you say, Micheal, the tension is beauty."

He smiled, staring back at the pool beneath them.

"Indeed, the game begins."