(3rd Person POV)
The atmosphere around the Horn Kingdom was vibrant—alive with chatter, lights, and the pulse of anticipation. Without a doubt, it was the season of cinema.
Movies ca one after another, flooding the streets with posters and promise. Whether it was horror thrillers for the brave or another mob flick clearly borrowing too much from the legendary Demonfather, the people flocked to theaters.
Friends, families, couples—no matter who they were—none could resist the pull of cinema. The top entertainnt of this world. The one thing that could make a noisy tavern go silent and a busy street pause.
And at the center of this festive whirlwind stood one na.
Titanic.
The announcent of the Hellfire film had set the entire industry in motion. Distributors scrambled, pushing out their releases early, as if fearful that once Titanic arrived, it would devour all the attention like a tidal wave.
And perhaps it would.
The people still had no idea what to expect. They didn’t know if it would be good... or bad. But they didn’t really care.
Because it had the na.
Hellfire.
That na alone was a brand, a legend. "The King of Studios," "The Big One," "The King of All." Call it what you want—Hellfire had earned its throne. The kind of reputation that could silence critics before they even opened their mouths.
It was blind faith, perhaps.
But it was that sa blind faith that made even a High-Ranking Angel like Scarlet Rain feel... curious.
Yes, curious enough to care.
The one who fed her all the details about Hellfire—naturally—was the Solarus Champion himself, Lance Ashford.
"I see... No wonder that damn old Philip’s so interested with this demon company called Hellfire." Scarlet relaxed deeper into her chair, voice lazy, eyes half-lidded as though staring at sothing no one else could see. Her blonde hair was its usual ssy halo, and her crimson pupils glowed faintly. "To be dubbed the Demon King, this Arthur Pendragon... now that makes interested."
Her grin widened, revealing faint vampire-like fangs as her eyes glinted with sothing wild.
A spark of madness danced in her expression. Not chaotic—but dangerous. Yet controlled. Like a blade disguised in beauty.
Lance watched her silently.
There was sothing about her presence that scread madness, even if her tone remained asured. Sothing wild restrained only by the thinnest thread of discipline.
She licked her lips, her voice like silk brushing against a blade. "Hehe... That title—Demon King—it brings back so many mories." She tilted her head, smile growing, "To be granted such a na... this Arthur Pendragon must be sothing else. I wonder—does he really deserve it?"
Lance remained quiet.
He didn’t dare speak. He only whispered a silent prayer in his heart:
’O Lord of Entertainnt... protect Your lamb from what’s to co.’
Because he could feel it.
The oozing danger from the angel before him—who looked like a mortal woman but radiated enough power to shake worlds.
---
Lance was completely clueless—but his prayers for Arthur’s safety were, in truth, kind of useless.
Not only because the "Lord of Entertainnt" was Arthur himself, but also because, between the two, Scarlet—despite being a high-ranking angel—was clearly the weaker one now.
Sure, her power was terrifying. She could wipe out entire kingdoms with a single spell.
But that kind of strength ant nothing in front of what Arthur had gained through his «Entertainnt System».
He had already ascended to the rank of «Divine King», the early stage of a deity, and now held the title "God of Entertainnt." Not just that—he had even snatched another deity’s domain: "God of Money."
If the other gods ever found out, they’d probably crown him the "Youngest God in History." He wasn’t even a hundred years old, yet his power was imnse.
All thanks to the system.
Right now, that so-called "Young God" was standing inside a VFX studio, casually overseeing the latest filming project. The place buzzed with activity.
Normally, he’d either be in his room or traveling to fictional worlds through the «Creator’s Realm». But today, he made ti to supervise Joseph Jackson’s music video.
They were working on the MV for "Billie Jean."
His star, Joseph, was a natural in front of the cara. His movents, expressions, and rhythm—it was all effortless.
’As expected of a Jackson,’ Arthur thought, smiling faintly. ’He was born for this.’
He stood quietly with a hand on his chin, eyes sharp as he watched the crew work. Though his gaze never wavered, his thoughts drifted elsewhere.
’So... an angel’s finally descended to watch my film, huh.’
Inwardly, he let out a small sigh of relief.
’Good. That ans the overpowered skill ‹Director of Reality› is working as intended... no wild side effects so far.’
But his eyes darkened for a brief mont.
’I can’t get too comfortable. That skill manipulates reality—even fate itself. It’s not sothing I should overuse carelessly.’
Yes, he was thinking about that forbidden skill. A divine ability so absurd, so broken, that it could twist fate to favor him. Bend outcos. Reshape the narrative of real life.
If anyone else had such a power, they’d rule the world without even trying.
But Arthur knew—sothing that powerful always ca with a cost.
And that’s what troubled him now.
He had just acquired a new skill a few weeks ago—overpowered, yet dangerously tempting.
«Director of Reality».
The na didn’t sound that flashy. In fact, it sounded kind of mild.
But it was broken.
With it, Arthur could quite literally beco a "director" of real life—able to influence outcos and tilt fate in his favor.
The ability ca with a diary. A special one.
Whatever he wrote on its pages—whatever "script" he penned—had a high chance of happening in reality. As long as it wasn’t outrageous or illogical, fate would slowly bend toward it.
He’d already tested it.
When he eavesdropped on Jacy Heart and Old Kan’s conversation through the Hellphone, he used the skill to stage the Great Knights’ "attack." Not that he could choose the exact timing—but he did know one thing:
The attack would happen in his office. And Princess Mary would be there to witness it.
That was enough.
It’s why he started inviting Mary to his office so often—waiting for the ambush to play out.
And it did.
Everything went perfectly. He captured the Great Knights. Mary saw it with her own eyes. The impact was just as he’d hoped.
The only hiccup?
Sylwen.
She failed to detect the Great Knights’ stealth approach. But Arthur suspected that was just another consequence of the «Director of Reality» skill—subtle manipulations that made sure the "scene" played out exactly the way he wrote it.
Everything was moving according to script. His script.
Knowing that the skill was working far better than expected, Arthur decided it was ti to orchestrate sothing even bigger.
So, he wrote in the diary: an Angel of Solarus would descend and watch his film—Titanic.
He was ticulous with the details.
He wrote that the Angel would be ordered by her higher-ups to investigate his rapid rise in the Horn Kingdom. She would et his embedded spy, Lance, who would assist her in everything—from securing a ticket to feeding her curated information about Hellfire.
Truth was, Arthur knew very little about these so-called "Angels."
The only information he had ca from Lance, who’d managed to leak bits and pieces—like the location of their base: the Altair Station.
Beyond that? A complete mystery.
That was exactly why he set the wheels in motion—sooner or later, he wanted a direct encounter.
And through his upcoming film, Titanic, that opportunity arrived.
Fortunately, things went smoothly.
The Angel descended and t with Lance, exactly as planned.
Arthur wasn’t afraid of a little attention from the Altair Station. Not at all. In fact, as one of the richest individuals alive—an innovator shaking entire kingdoms—he already had the attention of many.
A divine one among them wouldn’t make much of a difference. Or so he believed.
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