The Primordial Lórd

If you notice any errors, please feel free to give me constructive feedback. English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes, please mention them in the comment section at the end of the chapter. Let's begin the story!

Word Count: 2580 Words

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"It is nice to meet you, I am William Moriarty, and you are?"

An opulent young man, seemingly in his early twenties, sat across a table in a grandiose restaurant nestled in the heart of the capital of Lenburg. His refined manners and poised demeanor caught the attention of the crowd, though it was his words, tinged with a subtle charisma, that added to his allure. Tipping his hat at the radiant woman seated across from him, William Moriarty introduced himself with an effortless charm that left a ripple of envy across the room.

The woman, her beauty an intoxicating blend of elegance and mystery, had already captivated the attention of every man present. Many had mustered the courage to approach her, only to be met with polite yet firm rejection. Yet this unknown man, with his athletic build, strikingly handsome features, and an air of unplaceable familiarity, had waltzed in and claimed the seat opposite her as if the moment were predestined.

The nobles cursed their fortunes and seethed in silence, watching as their hopes of wooing the unattainable woman crumbled. Even the poets and bards, who had spent the evening weaving verses extolling her beauty, paused to marvel at the scene unfolding before them.

For the women at the party, the tables had turned entirely. The whispers of jealousy that had circled the room at the sight of the lady now gave way to admiration and longing for Williams. The man seemed to command the attention of everyone without trying, his presence elevating the room's ambiance to a palpable intensity.

It was a strange dynamic—this grand party hosted by a corrupt noble desperate for a glimpse into the Beyonder world. Despite the dangers of the current turbulent times, the noble had pursued his ambitions with reckless abandon, even as rumors swirled about the mysterious disappearances of Beyonders and the deaths of Sequence 0 gods. The Noble had been adamant on being the next Sun God.

The restaurant, larger than many noble estates, stood as a symbol of the host's decadence. Yet its grandeur was overshadowed by the tension in the air. Whispers filled the room—tales of ambition, betrayal, and secrets far beyond the grasp of ordinary men.

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The woman, who had stolen the spotlight for much of the evening, found her curiosity piqued by the man before her. She had infiltrated the noble's circle with a mission in mind, one rooted in the shadows of the Beyonder world.

As a Beyonder herself, she was well aware of the world's shifting landscape. Gods who once stood at the pinnacle of power had fallen, their deaths sending shockwaves through the Beyonder World. High-ranking Beyonders had fled into hiding, leaving only whispers of the unknown force that had toppled the divine.

Her mission was not born of self-preservation but of duty. She sought answers to the mystery that had gripped the world. Why had the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, alone among the divine, managed to shield himself from this calamity? What secret had he discovered?

Her suspicions deepened when she learned of the purpose behind this gathering. The noble had invited a cardinal of the Church of Knowledge and Wisdom under the guise of celebration, yet whispers from her sources spoke of a secret meeting between the cardinal and a representative of the Mother Tree of Desire—an Outer God.

The woman's mission had brought her here, her goddess's command urging her to uncover the truth. Was it corruption within the church, a betrayal born of desperation, or the subtle machinations of an Outer God weaving its influence through them. Had the Outer Deities influenced the Cardinals and had slayed them through their connection with their followers.

Williams Moriarty's sudden appearance had thrown her off balance. His name tugged at the edges of her memory, evoking a sense of déjà vu she could not ignore. His presence, commanding yet enigmatic, felt like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. As she studied him, her instincts told her that he was more than he appeared.

---

As she saw an unknown figure arrive—one who was not on the list—she grew cautious. At first, she suspected him to be the representative of the Mother Tree of Desire. Yet, his demeanor, coupled with the fact that she could sense no power emanating from him, led her to dismiss the idea. Fixing her gaze on him, she began to speak.

"I am..." Her voice faltered midsentence, her eyes momentarily devoid of thought or emotion. Snapping back to awareness, she followed his gaze.

Her eyes lingered on his outstretched hand after he had introduced himself. Not wanting to keep him waiting, she extended hers in return. As he took her hand, he gave a slight nod and said, "Quite the beautiful lady you are. Would you do me the honor of knowing your name? I've already introduced myself, after all!" His words ended awkwardly, and he struggled to suppress the blush creeping across his face.

She smiled inwardly, amused by his youthful awkwardness. The boy, William, had a certain charm that caught her attention. Deciding to indulge herself and pass some time, she thought to play along. After all, neither the Cardinal nor the representative of the Mother Tree of Desire had yet appeared.

"Apologies," she replied, her voice laced with soft amusement. "I was preoccupied with certain matters."

William tilted his head slightly, giving her a puzzled look before flashing a warm, eager smile. "Worried, are we? Is there something I can help you with?"

His genuine enthusiasm, the subtle blush he tried so hard to conceal, and his failing attempts at flirtation brought a light giggle to her lips. Withdrawing her hand, she covered her smile with delicate fingers.

"You're quite the charmer," she teased. "But there's nothing to worry about. So, you're Williams Moriarty, correct?" Her eyes searched his face for confirmation.

He nodded, a faint smile lingering. "Yes, that's me."

"Well then, Williams Moriarty, it's a pleasure to meet you. I am Katarina Pelle."

The boy straightened his posture, his confidence momentarily returning. "So, Katarina Pelle, what is it about this party that has drawn you here? It feels as though you're a demoness, descending to seduce us mere mortals."

Her smile froze for a fleeting moment. His choice of words puzzled her, and her brows knitted slightly. Though she sensed no threat from him—he wasn't a Beyonder—his remark still caught her off guard.

Seeing her reaction, Williams hesitated, his gaze faltering. Realizing he might have offended her, he scrambled for words. "Ah! Forgive me if my words were unkind. I didn't mean to upset you by calling you a demoness."

His flustered sincerity softened her stance. The tension in her expression melted into a bemused smile. "I'm not angry, just... surprised. No gentleman would refer to a lady—or a potential date—as a demoness, you know. Tell me, is this your first time attempting to flirt?"

He sighed, shoulders slumping slightly as he slouched into a nearby chair. Pulling his hat over his face, he muttered, "I suppose you could say that. Old habits die hard."

Intrigued by his words, Katarina fixed him with a probing gaze. "Oh? What do you mean by that?"

But Williams dismissed the subject with a wave of his hand, a resigned smile creeping onto his face. "Enough about me. If this night extends long enough, I'll tell you all about it."

Amused, she arched a brow. "Is that a promise?"

He met her gaze, his confidence gradually returning. "Yes. We'll spend this evening laughing, sharing stories of our past, and dancing until midnight. If, by then, we're still together, we'll reveal our true selves—no more secrets."

Katarina chuckled softly at his theatrics. "Very well. I'll hold you to that promise. If we are together till midnight, we will share out secrets."

"Then it's settled!" Williams exclaimed, clapping his hands in delight. He gestured for her to follow him to the balcony railing. Below, the grand hall buzzed with life, couples twirling gracefully across the dance floor in perfect harmony with the music.

When Katarina's gaze returned to him, he was on one knee, hand outstretched toward her in dramatic fashion. "So, my lady, would you grant me the honor of joining me on this journey?"

Her lips curved into a soft smile as she sighed, feigning sadness, though her eyes gleamed with quiet confidence. "Are you certain you wish to dance with me?"

Clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment, Williams extended his hand again, his voice steady but his blush betraying his nerves. "My lady, there is no mirror in this world that could capture your beauty." His eyes staring into hers, he continued. "Even the finest or the crudest glass fails to reflect what lies before me. Your splendor transcends the bounds of this reality."

A laugh escaped her as she shook her head. "You really are quite the charmer." Taking his hand, she led him down to the dance floor, her grip firm yet graceful. His initial confusion quickly dissolved into a radiant smile. Yet, as they reached the floor, his eyes—though filled with joy—remained devoid of emotion. Something she failed to notice.

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Following the rhythm, Williams gazed into Katarina's eyes, his movements hesitant yet filled with determination. She smiled softly, watching his efforts. "You haven't danced much before, have you?"

He shook his head. "No, not really."

Her smile widened at his rustic, awkward movements as he struggled to keep pace. Despite his initial clumsiness, he adapted to her rhythm, and before long, they were moving in perfect harmony.

"You're a quick learner," she complimented, her tone light and teasing. "So, tell me, what was that about calling me a demoness earlier?"

Williams sighed, his expression growing thoughtful. "I'm not much of a believer in these so-called gods."

Katarina raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So you believe in some other gods—perhaps those often deemed 'evil' by others?"

Their synchronized movements drew the attention of the room, the other dancers subtly making space for the pair as they claimed the spotlight.

"Not exactly," he replied, his voice calm yet enigmatic. "Where I come from, I am called the follower of Advaita, I suppose."

The unfamiliar term piqued her curiosity, and she tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Advaita? What does that mean? And where are you from? I've never heard of this term before."

His demeanor shifted, a mysterious air enveloping him as he answered with quiet confidence. "It's not so much a place as a way of understanding existence. It's not a name of a person either. It's a philosophy, you could say.

We conceptualize the entire universe as being part of ourselves. Everything that exists is but a fragment of our imagination.

In essence, the universe exists because we dream it into being. All we experience is a grand illusion, a simulation conjured by the mind. We live within the depths of our own dreams. Though I've clubbed a few philosophies together but that's the gist of it.

In simpler terms, I am the divine. I am one with the universe. Everything that is, is part of me, and even that which is not, is still connected to me. Though it may sound like a god complex, it is far more nuanced."

"How fascinating," she murmured, her voice tinged with intrigue. "But where, then, are you actually from?"

He smiled cryptically. "Somewhere far away," he replied, deflecting the question. "And what about you, Katarina? What is it that you do? As for me, I suppose you could call me a scholar. I wander the lands, studying and researching. But you, what occupies your time?"

She hesitated briefly, her smile growing enigmatic in turn. "I work for an organization. You could say I'm in upper management."

He laughed softly, his tone light. "Ah, so now you're copying me—playing the mysterious role. Fair enough. Speaking of mysteries, your mention of a demoness reminded me of something. I've been working on deciphering a notebook I acquired recently. A shady shopkeeper claimed it once belonged to the great Roselle Gustav himself."

Her interest sharpened. "Oh? And what exactly did this shopkeeper say to convince you to buy it? Did he sell it as the priceless original?"

Williams chuckled, the memory bringing a smile to his lips. "No, he wasn't that bold. He admitted it was only a copy."

"Wise of him," Katarina remarked. "If it had been the original, it would never have reached a mere shopkeeper's hands. So, have you managed to decipher anything from it yet?"

Williams grinned, his voice taking on a playful, dramatic tone. "I believe I'm making progress. So far, I've only uncovered one line. I'm not sure if it's a code or something meaningful in context."

Her curiosity deepened, and she stepped closer, causing him to instinctively retreat a step. She feigned offense, her expression mockingly hurt. "Are you afraid of me now?" she teased, glancing at him from the corner of her eye, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

"I—uh—no," Williams stammered, his blush betraying him.

"Don't worry," she said with a soft smile, her voice soothing. "I understand. From what I've seen, this must be your first time spending an evening with a woman."

He gave her a resigned smile, the flush in his cheeks deepening.

"So, tell me," she continued, her tone turning serious. "What is this line you've deciphered? Perhaps I could help."

Nodding, he answered, "The line said something peculiar: 'The taste of a demoness ain't bad.' That's all I've managed to figure out so far. What do you think it means?"

A flicker of emotions crossed Katarina's face before she composed herself, her smile returning. "What does it mean, indeed?" she replied, her tone neutral. "Have you uncovered anything else from the notebook?"

He shook his head. "No, that's it."

Disappointment flashed across her face, prompting Williams to furrow his brow in thought. Then, as if recalling something, he spoke. "Oh, wait. There was one other thing... The book mentioned something about the Mother Tree of Desire. I don't really know what it means, though."

William mused to himself as he sighed. 'It was there in the novel, it's not like I know Chinese or anything. To be able to read his diary.'

The term jolted Katarina slightly, but she quickly masked her reaction.

Their conversation shifted naturally as they continued to dance. Eventually, they left the dance floor to enjoy a quiet meal together, the night slipping by unnoticed. Despite the delightful company, Katarina couldn't shake her disappointment that neither the Cardinal nor the representative of the Mother Tree of Desire had made an appearance.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air greeted them. The clock neared midnight, and though the night hadn't brought the answers she sought, it had offered an unexpected distraction in the form of the enigmatic Williams Moriarty.

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**The End**

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