The five of us sat around the overly fancy table in total silence, staring at one another. It was a masterclass in absolute absurdity.

There was Htet Win wrapped in a shadowy, form-fitting suit that looked like he was constantly auditioning for a neo-noir spy thriller. Sitting next to him was Alexander, who was completely and bafflingly overdressed in a sprawling, multi-layered princess gown that took up three whole chairs. On the other side sat Lucy, who still looked like she wanted to murder me on the spot, her hand resting dangerously close to the hilt of her blade. Finally, there was Jane Connie, who just looked entirely confused, profoundly lost, and deeply questioning every life choice that had led him here.

And then, there was me. My own mana armor looked suspiciously like a cheap knockoff of Kamen Rider Decade—though I suppose it officially goes by the "Demand Driver Century" armor now.

I broke the silence, my voice sounding slightly robotic and metallic as it filtered through my bulky helmet.

"We rule the five nations now," I said, leaning forward and resting my armored elbows on the pristine mahogany. "We need to end this millennium of war before we lose any more people. It’s bad for morale, and honestly, the paperwork is killing me.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, a look of pure, unadulterated disbelief crossing her face. "Are you an actual idiot? The people of these nations have actively hated each other for thousands of years. Blood has drenched every border we just inherited. We can't just wave a magic wand and expect everyone to suddenly hold hands and live in harmony."

The other three nodded in silent, grim agreement with her.

"We must first uncover the catalyst that ignited this millennium of bloodshed," Alexander chimed in. Her tone was overly formal and meticulously measured, as if she were trying entirely too hard to embody the perfect shoujo princess despite the apocalyptic stakes. She smoothed down the lace of her absurd dress. "According to my loyal attendant Sebas, our five nations once coexisted in absolute harmony, ruled by five heroic kings, before a singular, cataclysmic betrayal fractured everything. We need history, not wishful thinking."

I raised my hand cheerfully, the metallic joints of my gauntlet clicking. “How about we go ask Dark Prince Lucifer? He was an ancient Demon Lord, so he might know a thing or two about ancient betrayals.”

The temperature in the forest plummeted instantly. The torches flickering along the walls died out, replaced by a suffocating, icy pressure. A towering shadow, dense as a black hole, materialized directly behind my chair.

“My name is Ignis,” a deep, rumbling voice echoed right next to my helmet. “Not the Dark Prince Lucifer.”

He said it with the profound, soul-crushing weariness of a tired father whose toddler had just called a dog a 'cow' for the fifteenth time that day. The sheer weight of his exhaustion was almost more tangible than his dark mana.

“Right, right, totally get it, Lucifer,” I said, waving my hand dismissively as if I were agreeing with him, completely failing to notice his glowing red eye twitch violently behind his dark aura.

Lucy slammed her hands down on the table, the tea cups rattling into the air. She glared past me, fixing her sharp gaze on the entity. “Wait, never mind his ridiculous nicknames! Demon Lord Ignis, if you were there, what actually happened a thousand years ago? What fractured the peace between our nations?”

Ignis drew a slow, deliberate breath, choosing to completely ignore my existence for the sake of his own remaining sanity. He stepped forward, his massive, horned shadow casting a dark shroud over the tactical map sprawled across the fancy table.

Ignis inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. The dark aura around him flared with a majestic, solemn intensity, as if he were about to reveal a grand, ancient secret shrouded in a millennium of tragic mystery. The entire table leaned in, holding their breath, waiting for the profound truth.

“I don't know either,” he said flatly.

The silence that followed was deafening. A cricket could have chirped on the other side of the continent and we would have heard it.

Then, Lucy's eye twitched.

A split second later, the feared, world-threatening, ancient Demon Lord was being violently shaken and thrashed by a furious human girl in the background. Dust kicked up in massive clouds around them as Lucy somehow bypassed his legendary defenses to slam him repeatedly over the head.

"Why did you pose like that if you didn't know anything, you oversized lizard?!" she screamed, her face flushed with rage. "You built up the tension for nothing!”

I snorted loudly behind my Demand Driver helmet, watching the absolute chaos unfold with immense satisfaction. “Man, I like this guy. He’s got comedic timing.”

A few minutes later, the dust finally settled.

The legendary, world-threatening Demon Lord was now sitting cross-legged on the grass just outside the pavilion. He looked like a classic anime comedy victim: a massive, purple lump was throbbing comically on top of his head, a single white band-aid was slapped across his scaly snout, and he was despondently spinning a small white flag in circles to signal his absolute surrender.

“Hmm... even the Demon Lord doesn't know about it,” I muttered, pulling the conversation back to the track. I reached up and rubbed my chin—well, the bulky metallic chin of my helmet—thinking hard. “So, do you think this involves the Goddess? She did manipulate us into fighting each other in the first place when we got summoned. I mean, Lucy here still wants to kill me.”

Lucy glared at me, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits, but she didn't deny it. She just crossed her arms and huffed, turning her face away.

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the table as the others started thinking too. Htet Win tapped his fingers on the table in a rhythmic, tense beat. Jane Connie looked down at his hands, his expression growing pale.

The dots were finally starting to connect. If the Goddess had pulled the strings to make them clash when they first arrived in this world, then this entire thousand-year war loop wasn't a historical accident. It was a grand design. It was her twisted, systemic masterpiece, engineered to keep humanity feeding on its own despair.

The realization had barely settled in our stomachs when the world changed.

The sky suddenly fractured. A jagged, blinding tear ripped through the atmosphere, turning the bright afternoon blue into a deep, ominous twilight. The clouds churned like a violent, purple sea. Then came the sound—a chilling, chaotic laugh that echoed from every direction at once. It wasn't just loud; it resonated inside our skulls. It was menacing, borderline unhinged, and completely filled with a terrifying, malicious glee.

A blinding flash cut through the dark clouds as a figure finally descended from the heavens. She looked breathtakingly beautiful, wrapped in a divine radiance so bright it hurt to look at her directly. Honestly, she looked suspiciously like an oversized, glowing neon lightbulb, but the sheer gravity of her presence stripped away any room for jokes.

“Ahh… you mortals finally figured it out,” she purred, her voice carrying a terrifying weight that shook the fancy tea table and cracked the stone beneath our feet. A cruel, patronizing smile spread across her perfect face. “But I don't want my entertainment to end just yet. So, you are all going to die.”