The cycle of seasons turned again. Newly bud leaves and flowers wavered in rebirth after the cold winter. Spring returned to this once frozen land. Flora cracked from the softened earth and fauna drank from the pristine flowing water. The cloud puffed across the wide blue sky as the shining sun shed the light of hope upon all which basked underneath its glory.

But in the springtime wood filled with the breath of life, one sentence was heard loud and clear.

“We are so screwed.”

“Relax, my master, we are still alive. Moreover, the worst the other Lords can do is pull your intestines through your anus like that bird in the North Pole does to baby seals, torching your screaming body slowly over the coal and repurposing your mutilated soul for eternal slavery.”

“You realize you will go down with the ship, right, Caislean?”

“That notion isn’t lost on me, my master. Don’t worry, I have already prepared the suicide protocol. I can guarantee that suffering will barely register when my soul forever achieves Nirvana. I will even take the responsibility to snip your virginity. This way, you won’t have to watch the woman you love get tortured and raped continuously till the moment the universe goes cold. My master, as long as I am in charge, I promise you can face your horrific fate with nothing behind to worry about. Go forth and conquer, my master, only fate worse than death awaits!”

The master, a black hair youth in a white formal shirt and waistcoats of navy shading, groaned at the woman in gothic maid uniform staring back at him with brilliant golden eyes. She had black hair, obviously a blacker heart, and perfect smooth porcelain skin worthy of a doll which hid the darkness of the void between her brain.

“Yay, hooray for painful death. Way to go with a painful bang.”

“That is right, my master!” Caislean’s eyes were shining as she pumped her fist. “BLOOD and GORE! BLOOD and GORE!”

“IT IS SARCASM, CAISLEAN!”

The young man dressed like a junior professor is Ciel. Soon to be known as Ciel Lord. He was a man shrouded in many mysteries, but the reason for his blackpill attitude to life could be explained by a single, simple concept.

The War of Lords.

…

Gods, or the Lords, were bona fide jackasses of the highest order.

The War of Lords. The Contest of God. Theomachy. Whatever it was called these days was rounding in the corner. Don’t ask how the participant knew it would arrive. They were the top of the food chain, birthed from the Void itself. Somehow, the various Lords just came to an agreement that there had to be violence.

But the Lords hated simplicity. They refused to beat each other up at the dawn of creation. Instead, they went to big daddy Void and struck a deal — the Void Decree. Each god would enter the world of Acceltra and seed their influence from a specific point in space-time, drawn through a lottery. They would implement their Authority in forms of systems to expand their already humongous power, gathering faith to create various facilities like it was an intense RTS game.

The moment the trigger gets pulled, the massive skirmish of conquest for the realms would erupt in an all out Ragnarok-style war of death to declare who would be the supreme ruler of Acceltra and the cosmos. Don’t ask why or how, because vagueness was the Lords’ modus operandi.

Ciel was one such Lord. At least, he believed himself to be one. He remembered being the flickering spirit among the titans in the Void, he drew the shortest straw and tumbled through the space-time continuum which deposited him in the middle of this humble wood.

Ciel’s luck was, without a doubt, atrocious. He got almost no prep time, no money, no fame, no experience and no strength. The only thing he was good at was counting numbers. He got the latest start of any Lords. By this time, the other Lords would already be sitting in massive kingdoms somewhere as god emperor. Take that holier-than-thou asshole, Yume. Ciel would bet the overbearing churches across the continent was that asshat brainchild.

To make the matter worse, was the authority, the Lord’s way of combat. Some Lords conjured magma and earthquakes. Some created Demons. Some slaughtered cities with lightning.

Ciel? Well, he got a Satanic maid who lived for his inevitable gruesome death.

…

“I am not that bad!” Caislean protested in fervor.

“You are not that bad. Your cheer will warm my heart and fractured ribs when someone sends a giant monster to tear me apart.”

“That is right!”

“Sarcasm, Caislean!”

To be fair, the local Nightmare fetishist wasn’t exactly incorrect. Ciel had one thing going for him. His authority — Unity Lord Authority.

Unlike most Authorities, which were the literal law of nature, Ciel’s authority represented the bond and potential of his partners in crime. He could create a contract with other individuals except for other Lords and drew upon those contracts to elevate his power. The power-up also went two ways. Ciel got a survival tool, and his partners received an extra skill and other goodies. Ciel could even increase their latent potential. It was a win-win.

Predictably, there was a catch.

“You are so lucky that Acceltra legalized polygamy,” Caislean said with crocodile tears. “As the head wife, it would be tragic to see our husband being prosecuted by the entire society. Think about the possibility of being socially shunned, tarred and feathered as the enemy of women.”

Caislean then smiled sunnily, “Instead, you will get torn to pieces by jealous love rivals and scorned lovers. Are you up to the task, my master?”

“Why not? All I have to do is seduce women. Anyone with the power and raw potential to do any damn thing against those bastards will easily be accessible, meeting them will be peachy, much less seducing them. I will certainly not be hounded to death by fellow suitors or down right get my back broken in my hell harem.”

“Wow, what a resolve! You truly have the audacity of a honey badger and the moral of an otter. I am so proud, my master.”

“You know what, Caislean,” Ciel was getting tired of shooting his sarcasm into the ocean. “I will let you have that one.”

The catch of Unity Lord Authority was that it can only be used on the opposite sex with shared attraction. Its very nature meant he must fetch a lover to possess a chance at surviving. Piled on the opponents facing him, he obviously couldn’t rely on just one contract to survive. Common man would declare having a harem of powerful women as paradise, but Ciel was better at math than most common man.

The contract functioned by mutual agreement, which meant Ciel’s partner must risk limbs against literal gods in the highest game of risk ever. The odds of finding such a loyal woman were less than a percent in the most optimistic model. Added in the fact they must share Ciel, and that probability torpedoed to almost non-existent. The nonexistent part then got further booted into the void once you account for potential factors.

But the biggest catch of all was the fact Unity Lord Authority traded the ability to gather energy through worship or faith for flexibility. With faith power out of reach, he was severely handicapped compared to the gods with the backing of several million worshipers.

“Be optimistic, my master,” the gothic maid cheered. “You have an SSR. Me!”

“Yeah, let's hide inside the Residence until the supplies run out. That will surely help us win a war against the other Lords.”

“Excellent tactic, my master!” Caislean gleefully raised her thumb.

“It is not,” Ciel wore the face of a dead-man. “Like hell we can hide forever. For an SSR, your combat ability is nonexistent.”

…

To make the image perfectly clear, here is Caislean’s contract sheet, detailing her Ability, skills and potential.

Caislean

Ability: Residence of Lord

LV: 7

Potential: ***** (SSR)

Skill: [Inn], [Treasury], [Training Room], *LOCK*, *LOCK*

…

"Caislean, you are a utility base starter SSR with two skills unavailable," Ciel commented on the abysmal skills.

“My master, the Garden and the Library are locked because we don’t have anyone who can manage it,” the maid's excuse was weak.

“Fine. What can you do if someone sent a hellhound to kill me?”

“Open the Inn,” Caislean answered

Ciel must admit that was a solid plan. The Inn was an isolated sanctuary of recovery where he can rest and heal. It also came with a bar and several bedrooms. As Caislean's level increased, the facility also improved. Right now, the Inn was akin to one found in a hospitable village, but he believed it would upgrade into a grand old castle eventually.

But the plan was flawed.

“We have no Inn supply and the entry and exit point of the Inn is fixed. What would happen if we ran out of food and fuel, or the Hellhound camped for me to come out.”

“I will gently pray as it rips you to shreds and feasts upon your intestine, while you are screaming in sweet agony. I believe your liver will be delicious enough to satisfy the hell beast. Honestly, I rated your survival 3 out of 10.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ciel accepted the poker hand of the broke with a stone-face and heavy heart.

Ciel trekked around the woods and found himself upon the high cliff overlooking the town beneath. The spring wood existed behind him, urging him through the rustling leaves as he set course toward the future.

Right now, he got a village Inn with no supply, a small empty Treasury, and a bare-bones Training Room with nothing on the training regiment. But somehow, he dared to hope he might live through the eventual war of the gods.

…

Ciel

Unity Lord Authority: [Caislean]

LV: 10

Skill: [Elemental Resistance], [Calculative]