Having traversed countless realms, can you possibly be as clever as me?

Cold, shivering

When Tsurugi opened his eyes, his first feeling was the stiffness in his body. It seemed as if he had been sitting there for a very long time.

So long that even the originally pungent, suffocating smell of blood disappeared.

Now, the air in my nostrils is filled with a mixture of the cold night air and the dust of the stones. Jesus' body still lies quietly beside me, covered with a thick layer of ash.

But more importantly—he was by no means alone.

Centered on Golgotha, the torchlight stretched out, illuminating this section of the city wall as if it were daytime. A dense multitude of Roman soldiers formed an impenetrable encirclement, their imposing shields forming an iron wall, sharp spears protruding from the gaps in the shields, every glint of cold light precisely aimed at him.

The air was thick with tension. The soldiers didn't even dare to breathe loudly, but stared intently at the awakened "monster" with eyes that were a mixture of fear, awe, and hostility.

At the very front of the encirclement stood several people. Governor Pilate was deathly pale, his forehead covered in cold sweat, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. Beside him were several priests dressed in magnificent robes, including Caiaphas, who had escaped that day, and the rest were all priests of the Pantheon.

In addition, there were several Roman nobles who had accompanied the soldiers out of curiosity or duty, but now they were hiding behind the soldiers, peeking out with pale faces.

Tsuruga glanced around, his face expressionless. He had just escaped a heated exchange with the Demon King, and his mental exhaustion made him somewhat annoyed by the tense scene before him. He didn't even bother to ask anything, but he knew Pilate had done a very good job.

Yes, during the more than thirty days he was asleep, Pilate tirelessly sent messages from the provinces to Rome, and clearly, the letter was met with nothing but undisguised ridicule in the Senate.

The senators and nobles unanimously believed that Pilate had drunk too much wine from the lead jug and was acting mad with Dionysus's influence.

However, the Senate could no longer remain calm after the surviving soldiers sent over sketches of the horrific scene and a horrifying list of the dead.

Countless suspicions and questions echoed in the Senate until the news reached Capri and landed on the desk of Emperor Tiberius, who was on vacation.

Tiberius Claudius Nero, the incompetent tyrant with the fine traditions of the Claudius family, immediately suspected that it was Caligula, the son of Germanicus, plotting a rebellion.

But perhaps due to his advanced age and thirst for miracles, or rather, his thirst for immortality and youth, Tiberius had already gone mad.

He established an obscene chamber on Capri and invented a practice known as "Speedy," in which young men and women would engage in sexual intercourse in groups of three in front of him, using this spectacle to rekindle his own waning desires.

At the same time, he also liked young boys, affectionately calling them his 'little fish' and having a particular fondness for handsome young boys, all in an effort to recapture the feeling of youth.

God... if He really exists, He must have Him!

The mad emperor immediately wrote to his Praetorian Guard commander, Lucius Elius Sejanus, ordering him to lead troops to Jerusalem to investigate the situation and bring back the boy who claimed to be a god!

He wants to find a way to rejuvenate himself from him, or—to merge with him and steal his 'youth'!

So the Roman army of 30,000, along with the priests of the Pantheon, gathered in Jerusalem.

Representing the supreme Roman emperor, they fought and clashed with the messenger of the Lord of Armies.

Having transmigrated, my only purpose is to kill, kill, kill! : 8. Demons descend, angels slaughter.

The blood-stained throne, made up of the heads of hundreds of Roman soldiers, looked like an altar from the deepest nightmare in the flickering torchlight.

Even after more than a month, every head here still retains the expression of shock and pain it had before it died, its empty eye sockets silently staring at the steel forest composed of shields and spears below.

The soldiers stood in tight formation, but their pride in discipline was being relentlessly eroded by a fear that seeped into their very bones. They gripped their weapons, yet felt no safety whatsoever; only a chill running down their spines as the young man on the throne stared at them with seemingly blood-red eyes under the night sky.

Then, the young man moved.

He stepped down the skull, his feet creaking and crunching on the hard surface, the sound carrying far in the still night.

As he approached, the defensive line composed of the Roman legion's most elite soldiers involuntarily lurched backward, a trembling sound of shields scraping against each other in fear. Pilate's face was ashen, his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white from the force.

Before he could say anything, an arrogant voice abruptly broke the silence.

A tall, stern-faced man pushed aside the soldiers blocking his way and strode to the front of the formation. He wore an extremely ornate and finely crafted breastplate, and his purple cloak fluttered in the wind—the insignia of a Roman Praetorian Guard commander.

He was Lucius Elius Sejanus, Emperor Tiberius's most trusted henchman and the de facto second most powerful man in the entire Roman Empire, who came on behalf of the emperor's orders.

Sejanus sized up Dongjiang with the same scrutinizing gaze one would give to any cargo, his brow furrowed with the arrogance and disdain rooted in power. He didn't believe in any supernatural tales; he felt that everything before him was a meticulously planned, contrived scam.

“You,” he began, his voice booming and oppressive, as if interrogating a slave, “are you the one who calls himself the messenger of Mars? Raise your head and answer my questions, Easterner! Or is someone ordering you to incite rebellion here? Name your master!”

His words were filled with an unquestionable authority, the confidence of a Roman ruler at the pinnacle of power. Yet, Tsurugi didn't even glance at him.

His dark pupils, however, looked past the arrogant Sejanus, past the pale-faced Pilate, and towards the priesthood behind them. His gaze seemed to be searching for something.

The arrogance on Sejanus's face froze instantly, replaced by a feeling of utter humiliation at being completely ignored. Just as he was about to lash out, another sharp voice rang out first.

An elderly man with gray hair, dressed in Roman priest's robes, squeezed out from beside Sejanus, supported by his servants. He held a scepter in his hand, the eagle emblem on the top of the scepter gleaming in the firelight.

"False believers!" The old priest's voice trembled with emotion.

"How dare you impersonate the messenger of the great war god Mars! I am the high priest of the Pantheon, and I have never heard any decree from the Lord of Armies from any divine pronouncement! You possess no divine aura whatsoever, only the stench of blood and lies! You blasphemous fraudster, you will surely be reduced to ashes in the wrath of the gods!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Gaiafa, the high priest who hadn't been targeted by Tutu earlier because he wasn't present, stepped out from the crowd with a grim face. His shrewd and imposing face now bore a vengeful pleasure and a cruel triumph.

“That’s right, he’s a fraud! Just like the one he follows!” Gaiapha declared loudly, his voice echoing across the city walls. He abruptly waved his hand to the side, and several Temple Guards roughly shoved a group of people out.

Upon seeing these people, Tsurugi narrowed his eyes slightly.

Those people were Jesus' closest disciples: Simon Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Thomas, Matthew, and Mary Magdalene, who had always followed him.

But their appearance was utterly wretched; each of them was covered in wounds and tortured beyond recognition. Their hands and feet were bound by thick chains, and they knelt weakly on the ground, too weak to even lift their heads. Even Maria's once beautiful long hair was now stained with mud and blood, and her face was streaked with tears and the pain of being beaten.

Gaiapha pointed to the dying prisoners and, with the air of a victor, proclaimed to everyone, and to the silent "messenger,"

“Look! Look at these so-called ‘disciples’! Their ‘master,’ that fraudster who called himself the Son of God, died helplessly on the cross! He did not rise from the dead as he claimed; he now lies in a cold grave, his body rotting! And his followers are nothing but a bunch of cowardly wimps! This fraudster and that fraudster are in cahoots! They are all sinners who attempt to subvert the sacred faith and Roman law!”

Caiaphas's voice was inflammatory. He linked the threat from the thrush to the already executed Jesus, categorizing it as rebellion, and reducing it all to a mortal deception and rebellion that could be suppressed. The disciples behind him murmured softly, and Mary looked up, staring intently at Caiaphas with eyes full of hatred.

Faced with this scene and the triple questioning from Roman military, political, and religious leaders, Tsurugi finally responded.

He smiled.

Before laughing, he asked a question about the remains of Jesus.

"So, even so, you still want to forgive them?"

Jesus did not answer, and there was no movement from within the shroud.

Neither saying yes nor no, the leader's meaning is indeed hard to fathom—but in Dongjiang, not saying it is tantamount to tacit agreement!

If he doesn't speak up, it means he can do whatever he wants!

Of course, even if he says no, Tsugumi will still do whatever she wants!

He started laughing, a laugh filled with pleasure and absurdity. It started low but quickly became high-pitched and unrestrained, eventually turning into a maniacal laugh that could tear the night sky apart.

"Alright, I've had enough of all the red tape!"

His voice became low and eerie, as if it were no longer a human voice.

"If you want to see it, then you can see it to your heart's content. For all of you, for Rome, for the world, a live broadcast!"

Character Card: Demon Noble

Inscribed Profession: [Goetia Noble (Count)]

Skill Status: [Goetia Spellbook (Not Activated)], [Media Authority (LV1)], [I Am Hell (LV4)], [Power of Asmodeus (666h6min6s)], [Both legs were broken by the butler (LvMAX)], [General skills omitted]

[Goetia Spellbook (Unactivated)]

As a noble among the demons of hell, one can possess a hellish grimoire containing endless, terrifying magic and power. One can unleash hellish magic by reciting its incantations, but upon losing contact with the grimoire, one will automatically forget all its spells. Reopening the grimoire requires paying a price of 'sin'.

[Media Power: Lv1]

'Born from the concept of media, this demonic noble's power allows you to control and broadcast anything within your sphere of influence that can be called media. Activating this power requires magic power; the more magic power you have, the wider the range you can control.'

【I am hell: Lv4】

'You are a count of Hell, your mortal body merely a temporary vessel, impervious to death. After physical death, your soul departs, choosing to seize a mortal form or condense into a demonic body. Only divine power of a higher order can purify your being; insufficient magic will banish you back to Hell, awaiting resurrection. By committing sin and seeking advancement in your power, you can raise the level of that skill, corresponding to the level of your authority.'

[The Power of Asmodeus (666h6min6s)]

'Blessed by Asmodeus, the Lord of the Seventh Ring and King of Desire, this temporary possession of immense magical power will completely dissipate in 666 hours, 6 minutes, and 6 seconds after activation.'

[His legs were broken by the butler (LvMAX)]

"Within the auditory detection range, this skill can be activated as long as someone utters the phrase 'I...just...'. Saying 'My legs were broken by the butler' will spawn a butler who broke the opponent's legs."

Current items held: Blank Astartes Card, Veil of Desire

Tsugumi activated her first character card – Demon Noble.

At this moment, having switched bodies, he once again clearly felt the wonder of this inhuman body and the higher existence after being driven in reality. Immediately, he tore off his mortal disguise and revealed his true demonic nature!

"Sizzle—!!!!!"

A deafening, ear-piercing electrical boom, as if it were tearing eardrums, suddenly exploded!

In an instant, Tsurugi's body was completely engulfed by billions of wildly leaping blue-white arcs of electricity. His head exploded instantly, transforming into an old-fashioned widescreen CRT television with a slightly protruding screen. On that screen, a cartoonish, malicious smiley face appeared.

Even though he was just a newly born demon noble, the moment he appeared, his terrifying and dark malice oppressed the mortals in front of him, making them fearful and unable to move.

Instead of killing, he opened his arms, fully activated the power of Asmodeus, and then poured out all the magic that made him feel omnipotent through his 'media power'!

"Good evening, viewers around the world!"

A strange voice, a mixture of old-fashioned radio static, sharp electrical noise, and condescending pronouncements, did not come from his "mouth," but rather rang out from all directions simultaneously, directly filling the minds of everyone present, like an inescapable demonic sound.

A curse has enveloped all of Rome, and even more distant regions!

On the distant island of Capri, Emperor Tiberius, who was enjoying the company of a handsome boy, suddenly changed his expression of enjoyment to horror. He looked at the pool of water that was reflecting the moonlight, and saw not the moon's reflection, but the head of a television set flashing a hideous red light.

Inside the luxurious baths of Rome, before the enormous bronze mirrors reflecting the faces of senatorial nobles, and in the eyes of the ravens of the Gallic Forest—

In Egypt, in Greece, in Britain, in every corner of the empire... everything that could be called a 'medium'—water, bronze, polished gems, even animal eyeballs—was forcibly hijacked at this moment!

Tsugumi, who has transformed into a demon lord, enjoys the manifestation of this authority and power without any scruples, but there is no doubt that he has almost exhausted his own strength by driving his power in this way!

But ultimately, a performance only has value if the stage is properly set up.

Or to put it another way—if I don't let more people see my brilliance, then what's the point of brilliance?

Moreover, although the power of Asmodeus in his state had disappeared, at the same time, when his 'program' was broadcast to the whole world, his media power was also raised to LV2.

It seems that being recognized and watched by others, or rather, the evil accomplished in this form, is how he increases his power as a demon noble!

Although it's a bit abstract, haha, he's already found a way to upgrade!

"Welcome to today's program. I, the messenger of the Lord of Armies and the protector of the Son of God, will present you with a wonderful performance!"

His arms, encased in a blue-black striped suit, stretched out like a talk show host, wielding a conjured microphone cane, and spoke in an exaggerated voice...

"The show is called—The Demise of the Empire!"

"Roma wasn't built in a day." Tsugumi looked at the terrified priests, nobles, and governors, and smiled, spreading her palms.

"But destroying it will only take a day."