REPRESENTATIVE OF KING

ONE AND HALF MONTH EARLIER

In the days leading up to this moment, I had bestowed upon Asta the sacred knowledge of wooing women, delivering a marathon 12-hour lecture on the intricate art of capturing a lady's heart. And now, as fate would have it, Asta found himself ousted from combat sessions due to his overwhelming strength, granting him an abundance of free time. True to my teachings, he diligently pursued Irish, his future paramour, with unwavering dedication.

But while Asta basked in the glory of his newfound romantic pursuits, I found myself grappling with a different dilemma: my inability to harness the power of my unique skill, aptly named Creation. On paper, it seemed like child's play—after all, what could be simpler than conjuring objects out of thin air? Yet, despite my best efforts, my attempts at creation proved futile.

I had tried everything, from summoning mundane items like paper and pencils to more ambitious endeavors, but to no avail. It was as if the universe itself conspired against me, mocking my futile attempts with its resounding silence. And so, while Asta reveled in his conquests, I remained shackled by the enigma of my untapped potential, resigned to the absurdity of my plight.

And that Chiyoko guy, for now I'm stronger but I don't know why but he can imitate any techniques and magic by just seeing it once.

Is it because he is an otaku?, Or is he also a genius?, if things goes on like this, It will take him less than a month to surpass me.

But I couldn't let that distract me from my true mission: expanding my harem. I had lofty goals, aiming for a minimum of 40 to 50 ladies, if not hundreds. For the sake of my future paradise, For the sake of my unborn Childrens, I had to crack the code of my elusive Creation skill.

Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and summoned all my determination. "As I open my eyes, I'll have Appraisal Skill!" I declared confidently, counting down in anticipation.

One...

Two...

Three!

I opened my eyes with eager anticipation, only to be greeted by the same disappointing reality—nothing. But giving up wasn't in my vocabulary. Determined to succeed, I approached the challenge from a different angle.

"Alright, new plan: Appraisal Skill...on my fingers! As I roll them like binoculars, Appraisal Skill will Activate."

With a deep breath, I rolled my fingers with the finesse of a magician performing a trick, and to my utter astonishment...

<Skill: Creation Activated>

<Skill: Appraisal has taken effect>

"It worked! Hahaha!" I exclaimed with uncontainable joy, celebrating my newfound success with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store. Victory was finally within reach!

Discovering the true potential of my Creation skill felt like uncovering a hidden treasure trove. It wasn't just about summoning skills anymore—it was about setting triggers, like a master of ceremonies orchestrating a grand spectacle.

With a simple command, I could activate any skill or magic at will. For instance, I could declare, "In my voice, I have Persuasion Skill," and like magic, persuasion would weave its enchanting spell with every word I uttered.

But it didn't stop there. I soon realized that this power extended beyond skills to encompass magic as well. It was as if I held the keys to a boundless kingdom of possibilities, limited only by my imagination and creativity.

In the end, I understood that this skill was a treasure, only for who have High level of imagination and creativity can fully able to utilise it's maximum capacity and I'm very happy to say that This ability is in good hands,Hahaha....

As I was about to extra different techniques, Asta's entrance into the room was accompanied by a radiant smile, as if he carried the sun's warmth with him. His excitement was palpable, infectious even, as he shared his news.

"Hey, guess what?" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. "I just asked Irish if she wanted to go out somewhere, and she said yes!"

The room seemed to light up with his joy, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of happiness for him. After all, it wasn't every day that Asta found a moment of respite from his rigorous life.

"It's a date, right?"

BACK TO PRESENT

With a chuckle that bordered on madness, she responded,

"As expected of Brother-in-law."

"I'm going to take Ingrassia too."

Aoto's statement seemed to catch Irish off guard, her expression shifting from confusion to concern in an instant.

"Aren't we going to kill her father?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "What's the plan with taking her?"

Aoto offered a reassuring smile as he explained his strategy. "I believe someone is posing as the king," he began, his tone confident. "So, we'll confront him in front of Ingrassia. If the king is genuine, then we'll eliminate both her and her father."

After Irish's silent agreement, Aoto left the room, making his way toward Ingrassia's dormitory.

Ingrassia's quarters were conveniently located on the ground floor, just a short distance away. With a quick knock on the door, Ingrassia greeted him as she opened it, her expression expectant.

There was no need for lengthy explanations; Aoto had already briefed her on their mission to rescue her father. He simply informed her of the date they planned to visit the royal palace, which was tomorrow.

Their conversation lasted less than two minutes, with Ingrassia nodding in understanding before Aoto departed, heading back to his own dormitory to rest for the day.

NEXT DAY

Princess Ingrassia had already arranged for a carriage for their departure, and they had all obtained leave from today's classes.

The trio gathered outside the academy gates in the crisp morning air, right on time. Ingrassia couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at the sight of Irish; memories of their past encounters lingered, reminding her of how badly irish beaten her. However, she understood the necessity of having her as an ally.

Setting aside any personal feelings, they boarded the carriage together, ready to embark on their journey to the royal palace.

PLACE: ROYAL PALACE OF DARWITZ

The King of Darwitz sat alone on his imposing throne in the vast hall, his anticipation palpable as the silence hung heavy in the air. With a creak, the doors swung open, and a man bearing a document entered, his presence commanding attention.

"Your majesty, Did you issue an order to donate 100,000 gold coins to a no-name donation fund company?"

"And there's also an order to buy 100 women from the red-light district for your pleasure?"

The king, his voice laced with authority, responded, "So what? I'm the king. You just have to follow my rule."

He turned his gaze towards Clare the Saintess, seeking her opinion. "What do you think, Saintess?"

Clare chuckled mischievously as she replied, "Of course, a person should live life to their fullest."

The traitorous king couldn't help but chuckle as he contemplated his next move. "Hehehe... before anyone can find out that I'm not the king, I should destroy this country as much as possible."

With bold determination, the king issued another order. "You've made me upset. Now I'm issuing a new order: 200 women and donate 10 lakh gold coins."

The finance manager had no choice but to accept this rediculous order, But suddenly a voice echoed through the hall, his heart sinking with dread. Slowly, he turned to face the source of the interruption, his eyes widening in shock.

At the door stood Princess Ingrassia, her presence commanding attention with an air of authority and determination. Flanked by Aoto and Irish, her companions bore witness to the scene, their expressions resolute and unyielding.

Behind them, the aftermath of their journey to the throne room was evident. Several soldiers lay strewn across the floor, their forms battered and bruised from the fierce confrontation. Each unconscious figure served as a testament to the ferocity with which they had fought to reach their destination.

Ingrassia's gaze pierced through the tension-filled air, her eyes ablaze with righteous fury. With a steely resolve, she demanded answers from her father, her voice resonating with a sense of betrayal and disappointment. The traitorous king could only stand in stunned silence, realizing that their deceitful schemes had finally been exposed.

But As the king's expression remained unchanged, an eerie sense of anticipation hung in the air, hinting at an unseen trump card waiting to be played. With a resounding clap, the atmosphere shifted, and the arrival of a towering figure commanded attention. Clad in crimson armor, the female knight stood tall and imposing, a silent sentinel of the king's authority.

Her voice, laced with authority and disdain, cut through the tension like a blade as she addressed Princess Ingrassia and her companions. The gravity of her words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow of uncertainty over the group. Sensing danger, they instinctively took a step back, their defenses rising in anticipation of the impending confrontation.

With swift action, Aoto activated his Appraisal Skill, his mind racing to uncover the truth behind the enigmatic knight and the saintess at her side. Through the power of his skill, he pierced through the veil of deception, revealing the unsettling truth that both the female knight and Saintess Clare were ensnared by mind control.

Irish's keen intuition, fueled by dark magic, confirmed their suspicions as she detected the presence of a necklace, a sinister artifact binding them to the king's will. With their adversaries under the thrall of dark magic, the group realized that their only path to freedom lay in defeating them and shattering the chains of mind control once and for all.

With a sense of purpose burning in their hearts, the trio of warriors braced themselves for the impending confrontation. Aoto's directive rang clear in their minds as they each set their sights on their designated foes.

Irish, her dark magic crackling with intensity, squared off against the mind-controlled Saintess Clare, her determination fueling her resolve to free her from the shackles of manipulation. With a steely gaze, she prepared to unleash the full extent of her powers upon her holy adversary.

Ingrassia, her stance poised and ready, faced down the formidable female knight who stood as a sentinel of the king's will. With a silent vow to show no mercy, she steeled herself for the inevitable clash, her blade gleaming in the dim light as she prepared to confront her opponent head-on.

Meanwhile, Aoto, his eyes ablaze with determination, focused his attention on the traitorous king.

But before the battle could even start Aoto stood firm, his gaze unwavering as he faced the traitorous king, his resolve unshakeable even in the face of impending danger.

As the king's laughter filled the room, Aoto remained undeterred, his determination burning brightly within him. With a steely gaze, he listened intently as the king unveiled his plan, revealing the Saintess's authority to reverse summon those who had been brought into their world.

However, when the king turned to Clare to execute his command, a wave of disbelief swept through the room as Aoto remained unaffected by the magic intended to send him back to his own world. Even the king himself was caught off guard by Aoto's unexpected resilience.

With a knowing smile, Aoto seized the opportunity to reveal the truth. His laughter rang out defiantly as he declared that he had entered their world of his own accord, long before the Saintess had even summoned him.

In that moment, the tables turned as Aoto's cunning strategy exposed the king's deception, leaving their adversary stunned and vulnerable.

Saintess Clare was his trum card to face Aoto, but it became futile against aoto. Again they headed to their respective enemy's.

SAINTESS CLARE VS IRISH HEARTFILIA

Under the hallowed halls of the royal palace, a legendary clash unfolded, echoing with the clash of steel and the crackle of dark magic. The air crackled with tension as Irish clad in dark-blue armor, faced off against the Saintess Clare.

With a graceful flourish, the dark magic knight unleashed a barrage of dark spells, weaving intricate patterns of shadow that danced through the air like sinister tendrils. Bolts of black energy lashed out with deadly precision, each strike carrying the weight of her malevolent intent.

In the anticipation of the battle, she had already calculated the odds. A Saintess renowned for her healing prowess, revered for her ability to mend wounds and restore life, but vulnerable in the heat of combat. It was a tactical advantage she could exploit, a weakness waiting to be exposed.

As the clash unfolded, her strategy became clear. While the Saintess excelled in supporting her allies with her healing magic, she struggled to maintain a balance between offense and defense in the midst of battle. Caught between the dual demands of protection and attack, her movements were hesitant, her spells faltering in the face of the relentless onslaught.

Irish seized upon this vulnerability with ruthless efficiency. With each strike, each calculated maneuver, she pushed the Saintess further into a corner, exploiting the gaps in her defenses with precision and skill. While the Saintess attempted to bolster her allies with healing magic, Irish pressed the attack relentlessly, never allowing her opponent a moment's respite.

It was a battle of attrition, a test of endurance and strategy. And in the end, it was Irish who emerged victorious, her victory secured from the very outset by her keen understanding of the Saintess's strengths and weaknesses. As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded, she stood triumphant, her victory a testament to her strategic prowess and unwavering determination.

With a final surge of resolve, Irish unleashed a devastating onslaught of dark magic, channeling the depths of her power into a single, decisive blow. The force of her attack struck true, shattering the enchanted necklace that bound Clare's will and dispelling the shadowy influence that clouded her mind.

With a triumphant roar that echoed through the hallowed halls of the royal palace, Irish stood as a testament to the indomitable spirit of darkness, her victory a chilling reminder of the power that lurked within the shadows, She defeated Clare without even using her full strength–An easy defeat.

MEANWHILE:

PRINCESS INGRASSIA VS CAPTAIN OF ROYAL KNIGHTS

In the heart of the royal palace, amidst the grandeur of its halls, a fierce battle unfolded between two formidable warriors, each wielding the power of elemental magic with unmatched skill and determination.

Princess Ingrassia, her form bathed in the radiant glow of light magic, stood poised and resolute, her eyes ablaze with righteous fury and unwavering resolve. With a graceful flourish of her hand, she conjured shimmering beams of light that danced through the air like ethereal tendrils, illuminating the chamber with their divine brilliance.

Opposing her stood the New captain of the royal knights, her command over water magic as formidable as the rushing tide. Clad in armor that glistened like polished silver, she exuded an aura of icy determination, her gaze fixed upon her royal adversary with steely resolve. With a fluid motion, she summoned torrents of water that swirled around her in a mesmerizing display of power and control.

As the clash of magic erupted between them, the air crackled with the raw energy of their opposing forces. Beams of radiant light collided with surging waves of water, each strike echoing through the chamber with explosive force. Sparks flew as their magic clashed, casting dazzling reflections upon the polished marble floors.

With each passing moment, the intensity of their battle grew, each combatant pushing themselves to their limits in a relentless struggle for supremacy. Princess Ingrassia's light magic surged forth with blinding brilliance, banishing the darkness that sought to envelop her, while the New captain wielded her water magic with unparalleled precision, her attacks flowing with the fluid grace of a raging river.

Yet, as the battle raged on, it became clear that Princess Ingrassia held the upper hand. With a surge of divine energy, she unleashed a final, devastating assault that shattered the captain's defenses and left her vulnerable and exposed.

With a triumphant smile, Princess Ingrassia seized the opportunity to break the captain free from the shackles of mind control, her light magic enveloping her adversary in a radiant embrace that dispelled the darkness that had clouded her mind.

As the captain's eyes cleared, she gazed upon her savior with newfound clarity and gratitude.

"I'm, Vortexa!"

Saying her name she fainted.

AOTO VS FAKE KING

Seeing that everything is already been exposed, In the midst of the chaos and revelation, the traitor's true form was laid bare for all to see, his deceptive guise melting away like a facade to reveal the monstrous creature that lurked beneath. His skin shifted and contorted like a chameleon's, a grotesque visage that sent shivers down the spine of all who beheld it.

As Aoto closed in on him, ready to confront the traitor head-on, the traitor unleashed his ultimate weapon: the sinister magic of mind illusion. Darkness descended upon Aoto's senses, enveloping him in a haze of confusion and uncertainty. Despite his attempts to resist, he found himself ensnared in the grip of the traitor's twisted sorcery.

Within the depths of the mind illusion, Aoto's reality twisted and warped, morphing into a surreal landscape of darkness and uncertainty. And then, amidst the shadows, a figure emerged. A vision of unearthly beauty, A naked women in her 30s,white skin like it's glowing, an unparalleled beauty. With purple hair and one horn on her forehead. It was none other than Scarlett.

Aoto was little surprised by why is Scarlett here, but for some reasons, Aoto's mind reeled at the sight of her, his thoughts clouded by the enchanting allure of her form. Though he knew it to be an illusion, he found himself unable to resist as Scarlett drew near, her touch sending a shiver down his spine.

With a sinister chuckle echoing in the shadows of his mind, Demon reveled in the success of his twisted scheme. As she muttered beneath his breath, hid voice dripping with malice and dark intent, she relished in the knowledge that she had played her cards right.

"Hehehe... I knew that his slave would be his favorite thing," he whispered, her tone laced with satisfaction. "It was a wise choice to become like her."

With a charming smile he took out a necklace from out of thin hair and says, "Wear this Aoto, after that, we can progress to do Dirty things♡."

With a wicked gleam in her eye, The thoughts turned to the next phase of his plan. His mind illusion, a potent tool of manipulation and control, would soon begin its insidious work. Slowly but surely, it would seep into Aoto's consciousness, devouring his thoughts and bending his will to his own.

"And in the end," he murmured, his lips curling into a sinister smile, "I'll make him my pet."

As the transformed figure assumed Aoto's likeness, demon's initial impression was that his plan had succeeded. However, reality soon shattered that assumption. Aoto's face twisted with a fury that seemed to emanate from the depths of his being, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that pierced through the facade of mimicry.

With each passing moment, the lines of his face contorted with an ominous intensity, his lips curling into a menacing sneer that bared his teeth like a cornered beast. His brow furrowed with a dangerous edge, veins pulsing visibly beneath the surface of his skin like serpents coiling in anticipation of strike.

In the depths of his eyes, a glimmer of madness danced, consuming the light with its unyielding darkness. It was a look that spoke volumes, a silent scream of fury and malice that echoed through the very depths of his being, leaving no doubt of the depths of his psychopathic anger.

His voice, cold and cutting, sliced through the air with an edge of righteous indignation. "You dare to perpetrate this despicable charade, masquerading as my dearest friend?"

"Unforgivable!"

<Unique skill : Creation activated>

<Buff Skill : Activated>

<Status effects : Casted on opponent>

<Skill : Binding Activated>

<Skill : Soul bind Activated>

<Status boost : Activated on user>

<Special boost Activated>

"Fireball", "Ice Lance", " Lightning Bolt "Earthquake", "Wind Slash" , "Poison Mist", "Shadow Bind" , "Holy Nova", "Arcane Explosion", "Gravity Well", "Inferno Burst" , "Aqua Vortex", "Thunderclap", "Stone Barrage" , "Gale Force", "Toxic Cloud" , "Darkness Veil", "Divine Radiance", "Arcane Torrent", "Quicksand Quake", "Tornado Fury", "Acid Rain", "Shadow Step", "Solar Flare", "Blizzard Blast", "Shockwave", "Meteor Shower","Tsunami Wave","Boulder Crush", " Cyclone Strike", "Venomous Fangs", "Celestial Beam".

<MANA : 00>

The air crackled with energy as Aoto unleashed a torrent of magic unlike anything seen before In just single second. Flames roared, ice encased the air, lightning crackled, and earth trembled beneath his wrath. The sheer force of his onslaught shattered the room, sending debris flying in every direction.

The intensity of the magic was so overwhelming that even the roof couldn't contain it, and sunlight poured into the chamber as if the very heavens themselves bore witness to Aoto's righteous fury. It was a display of power that left no doubt in anyone's mind – crossing Aoto meant facing the full force of his wrath, a force that knew no bounds. Describe only as Overkill.

After dispatching the demon, not even a trace of his existence remained; no ashes lingered, leaving behind only questions that would forever remain unanswered. There was no opportunity to inquire about his origins, his affiliations, or his motives, but Aoto harbored no remorse for his decisive action.

Irish stood in awe of Aoto's formidable power, while Ingrassia found herself in a state of disbelief at the turn of events. For her, it seemed as though she had stumbled upon the perfect potential husband, with strong genetics ripe for the continuation of her lineage.

With the demon vanquished, the soldiers under his thrall were freed from his control. They swiftly made their way to the king's chamber, discovering him ensnared within an illusionary barrier. With adept skill and swift action, they liberated the king from his captivity, all thanks to the valiant efforts of Darwitz's hero, Aoto Takahashi.

THE VERY NEXT DAY

A grand meeting convened within the opulent confines of the Throne Room at the Royal Palace, where ministers and royals alike assembled to conduct an investigation into the breach that allowed a demon to infiltrate so easily.

However, before delving into the intricacies of the investigation, a momentous announcement awaited. With a heart brimming with gratitude towards Aoto for his valiant act of heroism, the king bestowed upon him a title of unparalleled significance: the "Representative of the King." Endowed with nearly equal authority to the king himself, Aoto was designated as the presumptive heir to the throne, poised to ascend upon the king's retirement.

In addition to this prestigious title, the king arranged a union between Aoto and his daughter, Ingrassia, once they had completed their studies at the academy. Tokens of appreciation adorned Aoto's person as the king adorned him with medals and treasures befitting his valorous deeds.

Ever astute, Aoto leveraged his newfound authority to advocate for Irish Heartfilia's elevation to the status of a High-Class noble, recognizing her invaluable contributions to the king's rescue. Without dissent, the court swiftly assented, and Irish was duly promoted to the esteemed rank of High-Class noble.

As whispers of Aoto and Ingrassia's engagement rippled through the corridors of the academy, a myriad of reactions ensued. Some greeted the news with genuine delight, their faces adorned with smiles and their hearts brimming with joy for the couple's forthcoming union. They envisioned a future filled with happiness and prosperity for the two young lovers.

Yet, amidst the sea of well-wishers, there lingered those whose hearts harbored envy and resentment. Jealousy reared its ugly head, gnawing at the seams of camaraderie and festering in the shadows of discontent. Their eyes flashed with envy, their lips curved in sneers as they begrudgingly acknowledged the union that had sparked such fervent acclaim.