A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

Analysis of the Authority of "Holy Right"

This authority, usurped by the seventh king, Roy Crowley, from Michael, is divided into seven abilities, forming an incredibly versatile and potent authority. However, due to its overwhelming strength, it comes with significant limitations. Current analyses indicate that Roy Crowley is unable to sustain prolonged battles using this authority.

Particular attention must be paid to the seventh ability of the Holy Right, known as The Light of the Right Hand. This power manifests as a golden right hand, capable of defeating even the oldest demon king, Marquis Voban, with a single wave. It is suspected to be connected to Yahweh, the God of Christianity, who holds dominion over all miracles.

However, it is a theological truth that the Almighty God cannot manifest as a Heretic God.

Thus, the nature of this power remains unclear:

Its exact origins? Unclear.

The extent of its power? Unclear.

The conditions for its activation? Unclear.

Its true explanation? Unclear.

In short, everything about it is shrouded in mystery.

(Note: Due to Roy Crowley's possession of this ability, many Christians have come to revere him as the prophesied Son of God, leading to veneration from certain factions within the Vatican.)

—— Excerpt from the Greenwich Assembly's Report on Campione Roy Crowley

…

"Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!"

Marquis Voban's screams echoed across the battlefield, filling the heavens and earth with his agony.

A radiant beam of light—bright enough to illuminate the entire world—flashed for but a moment. Then, all was silent.

The Holy Right had designated the underworld dragon—Marquis Voban—as an enemy. The The Light of the Right Hand emanating from it was applied solely to him.

The battlefield, Tokyo's Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden, remained untouched. Not a single blade of grass was trampled, not one flower had wilted, and not even a speck of soil was disturbed. There were no signs of destruction or overwhelming power. No cataclysmic explosions or terrifying shockwaves.

And yet, where once the mighty black dragon of the underworld had soared proudly, now lay its defeated form—collapsed on the grass, gasping for breath, utterly vanquished.

"I… I can't understand… I can't understand!!"

Marquis Voban's voice rasped through the dragon's mouth, filled with disbelief and rage. "What is this authority?! It's like… it's like a foul! Like it mocks all my efforts! Like it's cheating!"

The black dragon struggled feebly, trying to lift its colossal body. But Marquis Voban had lost everything—his divine power, his physical strength, even the willpower needed for a simple movement. As Roy had declared, he was defeated.

A hoarse, broken roar escaped from his mouth, sounding like the bitter complaints of a third-rate novel villain upon their defeat. It bore no resemblance to the dignity of a demon king, no trace of the cunning and ruthless wolf for which he was renowned.

But who could blame him? Marquis Voban's despair was understandable. The nature of his defeat was beyond comprehension.

He had done nothing wrong. He still had the strength to fight. And yet, in the wake of that single ray of light, he was utterly defeated. He didn't even know how it happened.

What had attacked him?

How had he been struck?

Why did he feel the crushing weight of defeat and pain?

The answers eluded him. All he knew was the result—he had been bested, without understanding why.

It was exactly as Roy had said: when that hand appears, victory is assured.

When it moves, all resistance is rendered meaningless.

But it was precisely because of its simplicity, its purity, that it was so difficult to believe.

'No, I, Roy Crowley, am not cheating!'

Roy looked at the somewhat deranged Marquis Voban and silently muttered to himself in his heart.

To be honest, Roy himself found his "third hand" astonishing. This hand was not something that could be explained by the powers of this world. After reflecting and consulting Aiwass, Roy concluded that the emergence of this "third hand" was entirely tied to Aleister Crowley's Book of 777.

This was the book Roy had fully comprehended in a moment of epiphany, right before his death, during his time in the world of A Certain Magical Index.

The Book of 777 is a magical tome documenting Aleister's philosophy and worldview, a book that even Aleister himself had not fully realized in practice.

While it recorded no specific spells, Roy's comprehension of it did not immediately make him a powerful magician. Instead, its essence lingered within him as a "realm" of thought and philosophy, dormant within his mind and soul. It was only when Roy slew Michael in this world and usurped his authority that the latent strength of the book revealed itself. This revelation wove for Roy the Holy Right, an authority embodying all the miraculous powers of Christianity.

Aleister Crowley famously scorned Christianity—not out of ignorance but because he had achieved profound understanding of the Biblical and Christian systems. It was precisely because he had delved deeply into it that he could voice his disdain with authority.

Aleister was not the type to mock things he did not understand. Only through knowledge did he feel entitled to critique.

The Book of 777 is Aleister's so-called Antichrist text. It uses the sacred number 7 of Christianity as its title, but the book speaks of the Qlippoth and the Beast in blasphemous terms. Yet, ironically, it also encapsulates Aleister's most profound insights into the Christian theological framework.

When Roy comprehended the Book of 777, he inherited Aleister's full understanding of "Christianity" and transcended it, creating the right hand that symbolizes Yahweh. This hand is a miracle—a realization even Aleister himself could not achieve.

Marquis Voban soon regained his composure. He halted his frenzied tirade, his fierce emerald dragon eyes fixed on Roy as the young Campione steadily approached.

The golden right hand still protruded from Roy's shoulder, its presence distorting everything it touched, as if the material world itself could not accommodate its existence.

"Boy," Voban rasped, his tone heavy with resignation, "though my loss makes no sense to me, I admit that I am defeated. From the outcome alone, I have no right to complain or shout anymore… Your right hand must have severe limitations. Otherwise, you could have simply ended the fight with one wave from the start. Why bother engaging me in battle?"

Voban's piercing gaze locked onto the Holy Right, as if attempting to decipher its mysteries. But whether one was a magician, a Campione, or even a Heretic God, the nature of this hand remained utterly incomprehensible.

Roy nodded lightly.

"You're correct, Marquis. This 'right hand' has significant limitations. I have no intention of revealing its specifics to an opponent, but for a defeated adversary such as yourself, I owe a certain level of respect. What I can tell you is this: the moment you used Black Dragon of the Underworld, you fulfilled the conditions for this hand's activation. At that point, defeat was inevitable for you, and victory was inevitable for me."

Roy's expression was calm. He had no interest in the trope of gloatingly explaining his powers. Too many villains in anime had met their demise because of that very mistake.

"'Using Black Dragon of the Underworld is the condition for activating the Holy Right.'"

Voban's mind raced, but he found no clarity in this explanation. He could only sigh heavily and mutter, "...So, in the end, I walked right into your trap. I thought that decisively using my authority would ensure no surprises. Instead, it became the catalyst for my defeat."

Voban's voice carried a bitter note of self-mockery.

'So, even decisiveness… leads to defeat, huh?'

Roy let out a quiet sigh, silently mocking the situation again in his heart.