Overlord of biblical proportions: Overlord of High School (31) (Patreon)

Johan Brown, by all accounts, is an excellent mage. Though, he’s more famous for, and a source of jealousy for being a contract mage of the Gremory family, of the head of the family, Zeoticus Gremory. And perhaps, with the least important job of his, the headmaster of the Kuoh Academy, he thinks himself not at all bad with technology. Not bad, of course, only from the user's point of view.

Johan had never been particularly passionate about machinery or electronics, the study of mystical mysteries, and, since he was a contract mage for Zeoticus Gremory, also bureaucratic work. This did not leave much time for studying those things whose value to Johan was purely theoretical.

Still, it was impossible to call Johan a luddite, familiar with computers only to keep it at arm's length. No, Johan could more or less make sense of what he saw in front of him, he even knows how to use Excel! So he can’t be all that bad, so Johan never saw himself as someone that would be perplexed in front of a computer.

At least until today.

As he continued to stare stupidly at the printouts in front of him, Johan could only blink. He tried to get it into his head that what he was seeing in front of him now was not the product of some mad science fiction writer's imagination, but reality. As far as it could be called reality at all anyway, it might as well be Greek to him, and he knows Greek!.

Johan looked up at his companion, a short middle-aged man whose only distinguishing feature was his light stubble, trying to see if he was playing a prank on him. Seeing no hint of mirth in his eyes, he tried to see if he had the answer, but his companion, who was the computer science teacher at Kuoh Academy, was unable to answer his questioning gaze.

Unlike Johan's confused demeanor, however, the teacher was neither confused nor was it looking for answers. No, the man's gaze was insane.

“It's impossible,” The man said with a kind of manic solemnity, raising his index finger in admonishment before bringing it down, pointing to some printed line in front of him before continuing almost with anticipation. “But it's there!”

Johan shifted his gaze downward in response and slowly exhaled.

At no point in time did it seem to Johan that letting the unknown Satoru into the school, into his area of responsibility, was a good idea, but what alternative did he have? Attempt to get an unknown, almost threatening, powerful paranormal adversary out the door? Johan certainly appreciated the rigors of the job and protecting his wards, but he was also quite warm and affectionate about his life.

Remembering his ‘confrontation’ with Satoru, he could feel the fingers of Death grasping his heart. He didn’t want to feel that ever again before a venerable age, preferably never at all.

As it turned out later, his decision to accept Satoru had probably saved his life. With his patrons' arrival, the Devils, he was informed that Satoru was actually a god in disguise. Only the most powerful and insane people in the world dreamed of competing with the gods, Johan himself was definitely not one of them.

And if the Leviathan, one of the four Satans, the strongest Devil in hell, had such a problem with just trying to make the unknown god respect the Devils' rules, then what could Johan expect in this case?!

However, the question that instantly appeared in Johan's mind, and not only that, judging by how dramatically the number of requests from Zeoticus to Johan had increased. That is even if Satoru, which was almost definitely not his real name, was a god… Then which one?!

Sure there are a lot of them, but the amount of gods that still retained their power, enough to threaten the Leviathan, are also not the kind of gods that stays in the background. Most gods, while still powerful, are severely weakened thanks to the lack of faith, their religions falling to the wayside to the major ones.

Gods that can issue ultimatums to the Leviathan, don't just come out of nowhere!

To be honest, thank Lucifer, dealing with the god was a bit outside of Johan's purview, and was generally a bit above his pay grade, so Johan was not privy to exactly what answers the Devils' research had led to. But, Johan was in an important position as a liaison between Zeoticus Gremory and the human world, and Zeoticus was very interested in determining the nature of the unknown god. At least because of Rias' dangerous proximity to it.

Without any concrete information, however, Johan was left with only assumptions about the god’s identity. But, in order to make assumptions, it was necessary to have something on which to base those assumptions.

The Devils, sadly, didn’t even have enough information to even make assumptions.

The unknown god, Satoru, as far as Johan himself knew, had never demonstrated his abilities in the presence of the Devils, excluding his strength and ability to see through invisibility, which was not saying much. Virtually all gods and beings of similar power could ignore the abilities of ‘mere’ high-class Devils.

Until, finally, what was probably the first demonstration of Satoru's abilities appeared in front of Johan's face… A demonstration that nevertheless answered no questions at all, but only asked new ones. Which, in turn, Johan also had no answer for.

Looking over the printout given to him by his fellow practitioner, Johan tried to see if a second look would transform the code in front of him. A printout, whose original was thankfully already deleted by the IT teacher, one that he had to convince his friend to make, who wanted nothing more than to wipe out even the hard disk of the computers, just in case.

Just in case of what, Johan didn’t dare to ask, seeing the bloodshot eyes of his friend.

“It's unbelievable! It's not a question of money, it's a question of what's possible! You realize that, there's not just buried treasure here, this is the future! The code is unbelievable, but inside the printout is the architecture! The technology! It's like someone just brought us blueprints from the future! It's literally divine revelation!” Johan had to prevent himself from cringing away, as his friend started shouting like a mad cultist who had just met their god. And knowing who they’re dealing with, Johan had to once again check with his magical senses to make sure that there aren’t actual spells. And like the past few dozen times he did it, it came out clean.

"Well, I don't know about the future, but I agree about the divine part." Johan sighed bleakly. What kind of god has a domain with electronics and programming? No such thing existed in the classical pantheons of gods, so Johan had to think about it more broadly.

A god of lightning, perhaps, based on their connection to electricity? No, unlikely, most of them were primarily storm lords and god kings, not inventors… So inventor gods? There weren't too many of those, and due to the dangers of their general sphere of activity, they were under heavy surveillance by other parties. Especially considering that for the most part they were in the business of creating one-of-a-kind powerful artifacts, not electronics for mass use. Perhaps the gods of knowledge?

Johan's mind continued to try to make sense of what he’s seeing, but the closest comparison Johan could think of to a divine feat of programming and computers was the [Heaven System]. And given that the Biblical God was still reigning in the sky right now, and they haven’t all been smote, Johan didn't even bother to think about the possible parallels and similarities between the two.

However, even setting aside the mystery that is Satoru's nature, something that is not his duties anyway, he was still faced with the question of what he was supposed to do now with the particular problem in front of him…

Judging by the fact that Satoru had so easily given such ‘divine’ working to his teacher, the latter didn't value them too highly. Johan however wasn't stupid enough to simply try to raise money or pass the information given to him to his superiors without the unknown god's knowledge. That is, of course, he would report that Satoru had demonstrated incredible abilities in this field, but as for the specific product in front of his face…

This was a much more complicated issue, because Johan did not want to let such a gold mine pass him by… Wait!

‘What if that's exactly what Satoru was counting on?’ A hunch flashed through Johan's mind, making him suddenly straighten his spine as if he was just struck with lightning and dread to begin forming.

‘Remember how he showed up here, with the admission papers, already signed with my signature… His move then was what first made me interested in him, even before his identity as a god was found out. That paper was the reason to admit him to the academy, to allow him exactly where he needed to go, and now… What is in front of me? Not something that Satoru passed on to me through third hands, is it? Pursuing his own agenda… Is this a test?’

Johan's stomach began to slowly curl into a tight lump, and bile began to rise to his throat as he continued to unravel this tangle of thoughts. ‘And what does that mean? A suggestion? A hint of what he can offer me, If what his colleague was raving about was even half true, what he’s holding in his hand would cause the computing world to leap forward by decades! Centuries even! A license to print money, and for Satoru just to give it away as if it means nothing to him? Or is it… Recruitment?’

None of the Devil so far know specifically why exactly Satoru had ended up at Kuoh's academy, he'd barely made any moves regarding the academy. Except for making a semblance of friendship with a couple of other students and breaking up the Perverted Trio… And good riddance to them in Johan’s opinion.

But what if Satoru was playing the long game?

Indeed, why would an immortal god be in a hurry? Satoru could even think that the one miserable week before he made his first move, where Johan was constantly walking on eggshells, to be a prompt recruitment attempt. An offer to Johan… he could see why Satoru would do it too. Johan was acting as a critical juncture, Zeoticus Gremory's point of contact with the Human world, and a constant observer of the academy's inhabitants.

Johan's head seemed to be clouded over, as he reflexively bit his lip before raising his hand, stopping his friend’s passionate plea to use the incredible invention in their hands, to talk to Satoru. His friend, who had become an unknowing pawn in the god’s game. Or perhaps he isn’t? Johan couldn’t be sure anymore.

“I'll… I'll think about it…” His friend frowned at his unsure words, clearly not wanting to hear such an unclear answer from Johan, but Johan only looked away, biting his lip.

It wasn't that Johan was disloyal to Zeoticus, he had gained significant status and good money through his patronage, but Satoru didn't seem like a crazy maniac to Johan, at least only by indirect observation… He could scarcely imagine just how much greater he could be if he were to be in the direct service to a god.

And so Johan really had a lot to think about at the moment…

***

Life was changing rapidly around Mittelt lately, and it seemed to her that gradually, every day, the speed of those changes was only increasing. First, it took her hundreds of years to fall from Heaven, then only a few years after to see the Leviathan in person, then only a matter of days to learn that Father had returned to this world again. And then, as if to cap it all off, only a couple of hours to see an incredibly powerful Devil working for Father, preparing for the Apocalypse, the last hour of the earth before His Kingdom reigns on Earth again.

Following similar logic, it should have taken Mittelt only fifteen minutes after that to see the Breaking of the Seals and the Four Horsemen running through the world. Followed five seconds after for the agonizing Armageddon, and finally, because of the accelerating frequency of incredible events around Mittelt, after that it should have all merged into a single picture, the heavenly bliss of His Kingdom Come.

But, what was surprising to Mittelt was that the flow of unbelievable events did pause a little after she had personally met the Father. Certainly, judging by Kalawarner, who had been assigned to write the reports to Kokabiel, as dictated by the Demiurge of all things, the crazy things in Mittelt's life were still ongoing.

But compared to the information about the death of Great Red and Ddraig, the return of the Biblical God, and actual Devil apostles, simple contact with powerful Fallen Angels seemed lackluster to Mittelt now. Humans, and it seemed like Fallen Angels as well, were remarkably quick to adapt to the most inconceivable events happening around them. Though maybe she needed to add an addendum for the Fallen Angels – only if the foundations of their world order had been overturned a couple of times in a single twenty-four-hour period.

So Mittelt, whose awareness of reality had gone to the wayside after the barrage of events had unbalanced her, was able to adapt quickly enough to the changes that had begun around her. Not completely, sadly. Mittelt still couldn't look at the concrete-covered statues in the church, shuddering at the disgust at remembering the sound of the cement being poured into the bodies of the sinners, who were now works of art. If such a macabre display can be called art, decorating the interior of the church.

But after the first twenty-four hours of existence under Lord Demiurge, during which Mittelt was forced to endure some grotesquely cruel scenes, her life turned out to be… Not so bad after all.

Lord Demiurge turned out to be, unexpectedly for Mittelt, a far more suitable boss than Raynare… Though, was it really that unexpected for Mittelt? It wasn't like Raynare had managed to impress Mittelt as an outstanding team leader, so the bar wasn't too high for Mittelt. Rather, the very fact that such a powerful Devil under her Father's guidance had taken leadership over her was far more surprising than the fact that Rayanare made for a shitty leader.

Mittelt's life, on the other hand, after her traumatic first encounter with the Lord Demiurge, had turned out to be… Quite ordinary. So ordinary, in fact, that it was unusual for a Fallen Angel to lead such an ordinary life. Not that the average Fallen Angel’s life consisted of nothing more than orgies and corrupting nuns and Angels alike.

Of course, Fallen Angels also had a need for the simplest and most ordinary jobs that did not come to mind first when thinking about His rejected children. Some of the Fallen became a salesman, an engineer, a bureaucrat, a marketer, or even a simple housewife. But still, such occupations for the Fallen were really rather rare, or were combined by another duty more in line with their fallen nature – robbery, security, catching criminals… In general, the things in which the Fallen were much better with, than the vast majority of people.

They are still at war after all.

Office work wasn't the first thing that came to mind when discussing the occupations of Fallen Angels, but that's what Mittelt found herself doing. Office work, writing letters, forwarding them to the concerned parties, Mittelt had even begun to slowly get to grips with stock trading and deciphering the bureaucratic language of investors and investees!

Once, such boring work had led to her sin that had led to her being banished from Heaven. She had begun smuggling various contraband into churches and monasteries, alcohol and drugs alike, to see the pastors and nuns being led to sin. Of course at the time she reasoned to herself that she was simply testing the faith of the believers, her quick banishment afterward proved otherwise of course.

After spending years on earth as a Fallen Angel, Mittelt managed to repent of what she had done. And in the future, if she manages, of course, to survive her current job, not to resent the grayness of her work, she has taken the chance to excel at her work. Even without the implicit threat of torture, she could still remember the agonizing cry of the fallen exorcists, Mittelt would not half-ass her work.

It wasn't easy, though, to forget the gut-wrenching sound of sinners' teeth being cut; and not pulled, but slowly being cut with pliers one by one, inch by inch, the day she had met Lord Demiurge. But if she turned a blind eye to the event and continued to behave decently, not sinning and remaining in favor with Lord Demiurge, accomplishing all the orders he gave her and demonstrating her usefulness, then… Mittelt's life could hardly be called bad at the moment.

Divine patronage that made Mittelt not have to worry about Lord Azazel's wrath and the Leviathan roaming outside the church. A relationship as a subordinate that didn't require excessive zeal, and yet was probably the most efficient one Mittelt could imagine. Job security… And atonement for her sins, future ascension to Paradise, and a chance to live through the Last Days, a pretty good social security package, wasn't it?

As for some specific practices that made her teeth crawl… A further reading of the Old Testament, religious literature that Mittelt had previously neglected, had shown, it was not totally unbelievable that the Father would punish the heretic. As He said, ‘this was not the first time all of this had happened’.

When the Chosen People had chosen the Golden Calf over God, God had punished them for it. Now, with the advancement of modern technology, many people have turned away from the church, not to mention just how many denominations of that same church have sprung up, who knows just how many of them are still God’s light…

True, Mittelt wasn't sure which denomination was the only true one, but the answer to that question could also be answered directly from Father, now taking the name Momonga. Many theological disputes in the world could be resolved if one was able to go directly to the Lord, whom this religion honored after all.

All in all, there was no way to call Mittelt's current life ‘boring’, but she could find a different description. ‘Mundane’, in the best possible sense of the word.

She was not a fanatical follower of Father, Lord Momonga, though, no matter how strange that might be. Unlike Raynare, who had been almost rabid to study the bible and seemed intent on transforming herself from a Fallen back into a simple Angel, first in character and then in body. Anyway, Mittelt’s initial panicked thoughts of fleeing had quickly faded into the background, if not left solely as an idle thought. Like imagining telling the Leviathan that her Magical Girl schtick is cringe.

In fact, as it turned out, even Devils from horror stories, who sacrificed people, could be good employers. If you ignored some of their behavior, that is.

In general, there was no longer any grotesque reaction that usually comes to mind at the mention of ‘execution’ of sinners, just another detail of Mittelt's new life that could be ignored… And she had found that she could continue her quiet life as if nothing of the sort had happened.

Kalawarner was also quick to accept these new rules of the game, grasping the idea that they had no choice anyway. Sandwiched between the Leviathan and Azazel, it wasn't as if the Fallen could count on a long and happy life once they left the confines of the church. Even Raynare was suddenly showing loyalty, even piety, to the Father.

Mittelt could easily imagine that if it was she herself that had personally witnessed the death of the Great Red and Ddraig, and had received a new pair of wings at the same time. She probably wouldn't be acting too differently.

All in all, the three of them, Mittelt, Kalawarner, and Raynare, had adapted to their new life.

Something which couldn't be said for Dohnaseek, who chose to focus less on the social guarantees provided and more on the gruesomeness of human sacrifice. As far as Mittelt herself understood, he was even planning to run away!

Mittelt had no idea why, but she preferred to stay out of his affairs. Not that she had any special affection for the Fallen man, but she didn't plan to snitch on him, knowing that retribution would likely be swift and cruel. Though, nor did Mittelt plan to betray Lord Demiurge and cover up Dohnaseek’s escape plans. Both out of a mixture of respect for Father and fear of Lord Demiurge, but she preferred not to touch the subject so that she would always have room to maneuver in the future.

After all, if she really didn't know the details of Dohnaseek’s plan, she wouldn't be lying when she said that she didn’t know, and therefore there was nothing to judge her for before His eye.

All in all, Mittelt's life was unexpectedly far from what she had imagined a ‘messenger of the Apocalypse’ should lead, a routine workday, small talk with her office colleagues, Kalawarner had even installed a cooler in their workplace yesterday! And today, Mittelt even went on a business trip!

Well, maybe sorta? If you look at it from a certain point of view? Mittelt had gone to her destination almost in secret, and had not even left the city, but even so she had gone to a new place to meet a new ‘employee’. A heretical nun who had been expelled from her church…

Although, was it possible to continue calling someone who had been accepted as a nun, and then recruited personally at the Lord's behest, a heretic?

Not that Mittelt was bothered by that question, or interested in the answer, really, beyond idle curiosity. She had a good job, good living conditions, and, as her past life experiences had shown her, it wasn't always worth asking for more. Instead, sometimes it was worth focusing on the lesser things in order not to miss the greater ones. Like enjoying the cup of chilled coffee in her hand after enjoying her outing out of the church, even only after a few hours and with company to boot.

Given that in doing so, Mittelt didn't have to fear for her life from Azazel, the leader of the Fallen Angels, whose word was law among the cliques of the fallen, and the Leviathan, one of Hell's strongest Devils?

Exactly so, that’s why Mittelt needed to pay attention to the pleasant little things in life.

So, taking a sip of coffee and seeing the small figure of the blonde girl, hardly older looking than middle school age, Mittelt just waved her hand. And, receiving one in return with an unexpectedly sincere smile and her hasty, ineffectual running. Something which almost made the girl sprawl on the floor, tangled in her nun's robe.

Yeah, she suppose there’s no need to ask who the girl is, but Mittelt has to be sure. “Asia Argento?”

“Y-yes!” Asia, having stammered her answer because of her near fall on the platform, raised a radiant smile to Mittelt. “Are you Lady Mittelt?”

“Not ‘Lady Mittelt’, just Mittelt.” Mittelt imagined for a second that Lord Demiurge would hear that Asia was addressing Mittelt, as a ‘lady’, and how calmly she had received the title and shuddered before changing the subject. There’s only one person that could be described with the respectful title, and Mittelt really didn’t want the title being used for her, being misconstrued as blasphemy.

"Just in case, I'd like to know exactly what you know about the place you're going to.”

“Erm…” Asia hesitated for a moment, frowning slightly, remembering everything she remembered, the memory of her excommunication still a fresh wound. “Well, I know that Mistress Raynare asked me to come to her church, and that apparently the Fallen Angels in this city are in a tight spot…”

“Quite right.” Mittelt nodded, glad to see that she didn’t need to lie to the nun. There’s no need to tell the nun of just how complex the web of contracts and services Rayanre had to use to get the excommunicated nun to ‘transfer’ to her church. That Rayanare had only done so only so that she could extract the nun’s [Sacred Gear] [Twilight Healing], killing her in the process.

However…

“Well, I suggest we both start going, in that case, daylight’s burning.” Mittelt glanced at Asia and nodded. The young nun was going to have to learn some very important world-changing information on her way to the church if she was going to survive the first few seconds of her encounter with Lord Demiurge, so… Better start now.

“Asia,” Mittelt, taking the small suitcase of luggage from Asia's hands, which hardly strained the fallen woman's arm, sat down beside her and walked slowly, adjusting to the small steps of her new acquaintance.

“If you don't mind my strange and personal question, however… How exactly did you get excommunicated, and what is your opinion about the Heavenly Father?”

***

Kokabiel pushed the report away from him before chuckling.

Many considered Kokabiel mad, among the Fallen and beyond, but Kokabiel considered himself neither mad nor a fool. Even with his considerable power, being part of the very few Cadres of the Fallen Angel, could not keep him at the top of society forever. Not unless there were other reasons why he had to remain a leader, not among the Fallen at least. Great power alone cannot keep someone as one of the heads of the weakest faction of the Biblical Three.

He knew that should any of his fellow Fallen hear Kokabiel admit such a thing, they would be greatly shocked. But Kokabiel was not a fool.

Since the first Fallen fell from Paradise, when Kokabiel had followed Azazel out of personal loyalty to him, the Fallen had never changed in their nature. Born out of a denial of the divine will and divine purpose, Angels who had placed their own judgment above divine commands, the Fallen were, and remain to this day, creatures of sin.

Anger, lust, greed… All the deadly seven sins were the prerogative of the Fallen, even somewhat even more than the Devils.

Which did not mean, of course, that the Fallen were caricatures of these sins – anger could be righteous, lust could grow out of love, and greed could be a manifestation of the desire to be appreciated. The sins of the Fallen were called such because they went against God's instructions, not because they were absolute evil, unlike the Devils.

In any case, however, the Fallen were the product of sin, or, rather, of a free will firmly tied to these concepts. A mindless machine cannot sin, unlike an intelligent one, which realizes itself free.

But freedom does not come freely. When Kokabiel left Paradise, even then wanting only to live according to his own will, without killing a single angel on his way out, when he was struck in the back by the [Spear of Light] of the Seraphim. Struck by those he had not so long ago considered his brothers. Only then did Kokabiel realize that freedom was only as valuable as the blood, sweat, and tears shed in the attempt to defend it.

And no one had shed more of those than Kokabiel himself.

Not Azazel, who spent more time among the embrace of women and in his laboratories than he did on the battlefield. Not the other Cadre who immediately plunged into their petty intrigues and the conquest of their own feudal kingdoms instead of fighting for freedom, not any other Fallen. He, Kokabiel, that's who fought for them all.

He had crossed blades with Father and with Lucifer, with Devils and angels alike, with dragons and elves, all for the sake of one day being able to say that he was free. To one day have the right to judge for himself what was right for him, and what was merely an outsider's imposed order.

He lost as much blood, broken limbs, and sacrificed his comrades, but neither did he spend a day nursing his wounds when he could be fighting nor mourn his fallen comrades. All for the sake of the fallen that followed him, for the common future of all his people.

Did he not have the right to feel cheated then when Azazel had announced that they were abandoning their war? How could he understand the pain? Azazel had seen the price paid for the right to say they were free… but Kokabiel understood, he’s the last person that wished for a repeat of that tragedy.

But the war was never finished. God died in battle, and so did Lucifer, but the victor was never set in that Great War. The Fallen were never able to prove their right to freedom. And if that was the case… Then did that mean that the war of the past, the sacrifices he had made, the sacrifices of all the other Fallen who had believed him, who had believed Azazel, who had hungered for freedom, were meaningless?

No.

There had to be an end to this protracted war. The Fallen had to find the answer to the question of their freedom forever. No issue could remain in limbo forever, one day it had to be resolved. And now, while Devils and Angels gathered their forces, the Fallen, the weakest of all the three Biblical factions, had to strike. Hard and fast, in a decisive, crippling blow – before the enemy could gather their forces for their own.

He knew that the prolonged peace they were currently enjoying was simply a prelude – the Devil and Angels were simply growing stronger. Should war break out again without the Fallen cutting the two at their knees first, it would be a war the Fallen would have lost.

Of course, the other Cadres did not support him – cowards and idiots, the lot of them. While they pretended that peace was eternal and that the war was over, the enemy only grew stronger, with precious seconds slipping through their fingers, and the situation only became more and more dire…

And Kokabiel couldn't, wouldn’t put up with it.

All he needed was one lucky strike, one spark – if Azazel didn't see the wisdom in his advice, Kokabiel would force his hand anyway. With the Lucifer and Leviathan baying for Fallen blood, it would leave him no choice.

Fortunately for Kokabiel himself, he wasn't alone in his thoughts after all. A Fallen Angel from Kuoh, the Devil’s lair in Japan, was able to make contact with his confidants, bringing him great news. Due to the appearance of an unknown god in the city's territory, several of the strongest Devils, with the Leviathan being spotted already in the territory, had to leave their abode for a brief moment. The perfect window to strike his blow…

And Kokabiel had to seize this chance, a better opportunity he may never get again.

Which was why Kokabiel could barely contain his excitement with a smirk only a second ago, when he read the report from Galilei that he had almost arrived at the target position – along with the stolen shards of Excalibur. Unfortunately, Kokabiel had no exorcists at his command capable of handling those Holy Weapons, they would make potent weapons against the Devils… However, even so, it was a good tool for his plans.

After all, the church could not let such valuable toys go missing so easily, and that in turn meant…

That centuries later, the Great War, the war between the three Biblical factions, the war that had killed the Two Heavenly Dragons, killed even Lucifer and God, would finally come to an end.

And the Fallen would either live free.

Or not at all.