DxD: Crown of the Personage

Journey Of The Soul

There was once a tale, a tale that humans were God's favourite creation —arguably his best.

But that was all it was. 

A tale. 

In this world lived beings far superior to humans —both mentally and physically. 

And all knew that. 

That tale was merely a story, a fable.

Humans were weak, they were cowardly and they were greedy. 

And despite knowing the truth… 

War waged to find the superior race. The race that would rule above all. 

Humans were forced to face the war, not because they wanted to be at the top but because the other races wanted to trample over 'God's Favourite Race' before all others.

Humans had no choice. In front of beings superior to them, in front of their might, they either had to lower their heads and be slaughtered without struggle or they had to wield weapons and fight —not in the hopes of victory, but in the hopes of survival for a little longer.

The races loved seeing the weak little humans struggle. The weak caved themselves in, hiding and shuddering in front of the higher beings, fighting to save their lives from time to time and barely defending themselves. 

But what most beings forgot was that it was the human weaknesses that kept them alive. 

Humans were weak, so they build weapons and discovered methods to keep themselves sheltered from the wild beasts. 

They were cowardly, they never fought a direct war. Instead, they relied on traps and schemes to weaken their enemies. 

They were greedy, greedy enough to sacrifice their own people to stay alive and earn more. Yet this helped to keep at least a few of them alive.

But above all, they were stubborn. 

Stubborn enough to not give up. 

.

.

.

Closed eyes, a broken arm and a fatigued figure.

Yet the strains of war couldn't remove the smile that lay on his face.

"Two hundred thousand war mongrels, twelve hundred blessed, seven thousand archers and four divine." A hoarse voice, broken and in pain. "Yet we stand."

"We stand atop their corpses." The man spoke. 

"But what was the point?" The voice weakening with each word. "Our kingdom is gone, our people dead, our history and our culture destroyed."

The man didn't lose his smile despite the heartbreaking words.

"Our kingdom may be gone, our people may be dead and the sacrifices of our forefathers might have been for nought." The man spoke. "But that is only for us, for our kingdom."

He laughed, but even that put a lot of strain on his breaking body.

"M-my lord." The other man cried, seeing his lord coughing blood —not caring for his own dying self. 

"We may be gone but humanity lives. Our sacrifices led to humanity's victory and even if we are erased from history, the truth of our sacrifices won't be lost." The man forced himself to give the biggest smile he ever showed. "Millions of beings of superior races, yet we are the true victors. Through cowardice, through trickery or through sacrifices… doesn't matter. In the end, what matters is winning."