I watched Demon Lord 2099, an anime about a vanquished Demon Lord who revives in a magitech cyberpunk future. This former ruler, Veltol Velvet Velsvalt, discovers that one of his generals heads the largest corporation in the world and by extension the way magic is used and controlled in society. Not long after their reunion, it’s revealed that this general, Marcus, would rather not cede his position at the top of the world, and betrays his former master. Marcus prides himself on being the strongest, and therefore the true Demon Lord of the modern day. 

WARNING: Demon Lord 2099 spoilers.

But there’s a recurring idea in the anime that springs forth from Marcus’s desire: Just because you’re the best around doesn’t mean you’re the greatest or even endowed with greatness. This is an idea that occurs all the time in competitive environments, such as sports, video games, and music. Is Michael Jordan the GOAT of basketball, or is it Lebron James? RTS fans used to debate what makes someone a Starcraft bonjwa, a fan title reserved for a select pantheon of players, of which there are arguably only five or so. Heck, the first thing that came to mind when I saw Demon Lord 2099 highlight the difference between “best” and “greatest” is F.D Signifier’s hours-long video about Drake vs. Kendrick Lamar, where he describes the reluctance among many fans of rap towards accepting Drake as the king of his era, and the enthusiasm with which they embraced Kendrick upon his return. 

Being the greatest seems to require not merely a list of accomplishments, but to also have an aura that comes out in one’s actions and behavior. In Demon Lord 2099, this notion sees its culmination in a rematch, where Veltol reveals to his betrayer that he has a second and more powerful form, as per the classic video game final boss trope. In this new guise (unknown to all but the hero who bested him long ago), Veltol neutralizes all the technological advantages Marcus created for himself and humiliates the traitor. The Demon Lord also reveals the source of his power: He cannot achieve this second form unless he has enough worshippers, which he has spent time regaining by becoming a popular streamer. Marcus tried to clothe himself in greatness without embodying any of the qualities that make for greatness, be it inherent ability or the acknowledgement of the people.

“Greatness” is, of course, subjective by nature. Different people will value different things, and second boss forms aren’t a thing in reality unless you maybe count competitors being incredibly clutch in key situations. But I think the difference between “best” and “greatest” seems to be in the words themselves: whether you are simply better than those around you, or you want to carry your craft to higher heights and possibly even use it for a more profound purpose.