CHAPTER 3 THE TRUE FACE OF A GOD
A single god and his follower were sauntering down a path in the morning fog. He was an attractive, handsome god with golden-blond hair. His follower was a young elven girl with long raven-black hair and scarlet eyes. The god was holding several bouquets. The bunches of large white flowers were trembling.
There was a figure waiting for them up ahead.
“…Loki?” Dionysus murmured.
“Yo,” Loki responded, raising a hand. Lefiya was standing beside her as a guard.
“Come here often?” Loki asked, watching the god from behind as he bent over to set the flowers down.
Accompanied by Loki, Dionysus and Filvis had come to the city’s southeast quarter’s First Graveyard—better known as the Adventurers Graveyard. It was a cemetery set aside for adventurers who had lost their lives. Rows upon rows of white headstones lined the ground. That early in the morning, there was not a soul around, save the four of them. It was serene.
“Yes…From time to time, I come here so I don’t forget this feeling.”
Dionysus stood up from where he sat with several headstones in front of him, markers indicating the resting place of the remains of none other than his own followers.
They had been lost more than four months ago, likely because they had happened to witness something related to the vividly colored monsters. He had joined forces with Loki to avenge them.
“…”
As a goddess, Loki knew that leaving a tribute to them had no meaning. Those children’s souls had already returned to the heavens. A lump of withered flesh was all that was left buried beneath the headstones. There was no one there whose regrets needed to be soothed. No one there to be repaid. All Dionysus was doing was emulating the custom of the residents of the mortal realm.
But she did not think that the act itself was entirely without meaning, either. Because Loki had lost some of her beloved children in Knossos, too.
“What did you say?”
“An apology. Nothing else.”
The only feelings the gods who stayed aboveground could express to their children were those of apology. Loki started to emulate him but stopped herself. She decided that she would not do something sentimental until she had weeded out all the evil that had robbed her of Leene and the rest. Lefiya lowered her eyes in the goddess’s stead, and Filvis closed her eyes to avoid showing her feelings.
“Loki, I said it before. As far as I’m concerned, every god and goddess in this city is a suspect. Any one of them might be my children’s enemy,” Dionysus said as he kept staring at the graves.
“…Yeah.”
“I will have their vengeance. I’m going to make sure that retribution finds the deity who devised all of this,” he declared with his eyes fixed on the graves, as though announcing a vow he had sworn in his heart.
“Loki, shall I take a stab at what’s on your mind? You think my familia would be a hindrance. You have no intention of letting us participate in the plan to attack in the near future.”
“…”
“But I’m going to go out on a limb and ask: Let us participate in your plan.” Slowly turning around, Dionysus’s eyes locked straight onto Loki’s.
She widened her eyes as she met his gaze.
“I heard what Ouranos is doing on his side. That the secret they were hiding had nothing to do with the truth that I’m after. In the end, I was just a fool stirring up trouble. I know you’ve no reason to trust me…However, even still, I would like you to bring me along.”
His words resembled an entreaty, a supplication. Dionysus was always hiding behind a sweet mask, evasive in his speech to never reveal his true feelings. To have him unveil a strong will was a big deal. He did not raise his voice at all, but each and every word was packed with force.
“This isn’t just about defeating the remnants of the Evils and that corrupted spirit. We must unmask the one going by the name Enyo.”
“…True. As long as we don’t crush the root of everything, this will just keep happening again.”
“Exactly. And a god is required to pass judgment on a god…That’s far too heavy a burden to have a child carry.”
“…”
He left it unspoken, but what Dionysus was saying was that he was going to join the attack. It was the ultimate taboo for a mortal to “kill” a god—a mortal sin. If Enyo turned out to actually be a deity of some sort, then it was entirely possible that they would be able to get away if Loki’s followers hesitated in the face of such a task. Because of that, they would need gods to accompany them.
Lefiya and Filvis looked up in shock at his request. There was a determined look on his face.
“Until all masterminds are uncovered and destroyed, I won’t be able to complete my objective…Please, Loki. I beg of you.”
A ray of morning sun started to shine on the corner of the graveyard, beneath the shade of the towering city walls. Loki stared into his glass-colored eyes for a while as he made no attempt to look away. After a few seconds, she opened her mouth.
“…I understand.”
Leaving the Adventurers Graveyard, they returned to the town. The four of them walked through the neighborhood as people started to bustle around, signaling the start of a new day.
“When will it begin?”
“We haven’t decided on a specific day. But be ready to go at a moment’s notice. This time, we’re not just borrowing Fil-Fil. We’re going to need the help of all of Dionysus Familia .”
“Understood. We’ll start preparing immediately. If you don’t mind, I’m going to let my whole familia know the details. That okay?”
The two gods discussed the plan as they walked.
Behind them, Lefiya’s elongated ears twitched listening to their conversation. “Huh?” Her head tilted a bit in confusion. Noticing that Filvis, who was walking beside her, looked disheartened that Loki had settled on an uncouth nickname—“Fil-Fil”—she rushed to comfort her.
“Look! It’s Lord Dionysus!”
“It really is! What a nice way to start the day!”
All of a sudden, a pair of demi-human girls walking past called out, mainly to Dionysus.
“A date this early in the morning? And with three different girls!”
“Or are you coming back after a night out? How naughty!”
“W-wait a minute! Wait just a minute there, cuties! Don’t go countin’ me in this dumbass’s harem!”
“Ha-ha-ha, it would be nice if that was the case, but unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of relationship with them. And besides, one of them is a rather unfeminine goddess who’s difficult to handle.”
“I’ll tear your leg off and shove it up your—!”
As Loki half groaned and half shouted, Dionysus stopped and flashed the pair a sweet smile. The girls shrieked excitedly, and after they had their share of squeals, they reluctantly continued heading to work. Lefiya was bewildered but let out a short, muffled scream as she noticed Filvis glaring daggers at her patron god’s back. Dionysus displayed a will of iron, ignoring the looks from his follower as he waved back to the girls.
“Hey! What just happened?”
“What do you mean? Some acquaintances. I’ve often gone to buy flowers at the store at which they work.”
“Oh, piss off…”
“It’s inevitable, Loki. I am a god, after all. And I’m just a little bit more gentlemanly than the other goofy gods, which means I end up looking attractive to them. That’s all it is.”
“Screw you, acting like hot shit! You sleazeball!”
“What’s with the correction? ‘Hot shit’ wasn’t harsh enough for you, Loki?”
Loki started cursing him with a straight face as he elegantly ran his hand through his hair.
However, that was not the end of it. The residents who passed by spoke to Dionysus. If it had just been women, Loki would have called him out, saying, You poseur, quit mistaking shadiness for mysteriousness! but—
“Oh, Lord Dionysus! It’s been a while!”
“It sure has, Gondo. I see you’re hard at work, even this early.”
“Thanks to you! Oh, that reminds me. Why don’t you try a glass! I was experimenting with a method of making it in a larger vat like they do in the country of Gizia, and the results were fantastic!”
“Oh really? Well now, I’ll have to try some, then!”
“Lord Dionysus! Make sure you come by my store, too!”
—Dionysus was popular with men, too. Particularly humans and dwarves with deep voices and thick bodies. Loki was taken aback, stopping in her tracks, confusion steeped on her face.
“…I’m surprised. Lord Dionysus is popular…”
“Popular, huh…? I mean, it’s all just acquaintances he’s made through wine, though…”
As Lefiya blinked in shock, Filvis sighed with a blank look on her face. Before them, Dionysus’s eyes twinkled as he held a glass of wine, letting it play across his palate. He gushed over the wine, and his excitement was more palpable than when he spoke with the girls. His joy was almost childish. Surprised by this side of Dionysus that went beyond her expectations, Lefiya stifled a little giggle.
“What’s this? Lord Dionysus is coming by?”
“Hey, Jenna. How are Sue and Holly? Aren’t they almost five now?”
“What…? You remembered?!”
“I would never forget a winemaker who makes delicious wine, nor his family.”
“You’re too kind! Sue, Holly, come here!”
“Ah! Lord Dionysus!”
“Hey! Hey! Let us join your familia!”
They were on a shopping street lined with stone buildings and tiled with cobblestones hosting a wide array of shops. Many of them were apparently run with the help of their owners’ families. It was an idyllic image of a working-class neighborhood, with children running around, playing in the streets, and adults occasionally scolding them good-naturedly.
And on that street, warm voices kept calling Dionysus’s name—from those young and old, men and women of all races. It was clear everyone loved Dionysus. With her mind blown, Loki moved beside the god who had finally broken free of the winemaker’s family.
“…I honestly never would have pegged you for this.”
“That I’d have this kind of a relationship with children, you mean? As the patron god of a more medium-sized familia, I try to stay active in the area.” Dionysus shrugged. “And besides…this is one of the charms of the mortal realm, right?”
Respect was evident in the second half of his response. His eyes sharpened, observing the lively shopping street.
“This is a blessing, what we see before our eyes. But there are people who wish to destroy this happiness, who are trying to incite an orgia .”
Another word from the language of the gods.
“Orgia …A feast of madness, huh?”
If the lid on the Dungeon, Babel, was destroyed, and Orario along with it, monsters would begin to disperse aboveground again—just like in the ancient times when everything was overrun. If that happened, it certainly would be a frenzied orgia : Men would become pitiful sacrifices to the monsters as women and children desperately fled in tears, attacked from behind by claws and fangs.
The cries of pandemonium would be interspersed with blood as reason and order disappeared from the mortal realm.
Dionysus watched over the scene before his eyes with a sort of righteous indignation.
“…Well, that aside, I can’t say it’s easy to stomach you being so popular around town. Who were those cute little girls? They looked like they had bright futures ahead of them! ‘I want to join your familia when I get older!’ The only thing nicer than that would have been, ‘I want to marry you when I get older!’” Loki tried to poke some fun at him.
“Not to be rude to them, but I’m the one who decides who joins my familia…especially given the current situation.”
Dionysus’s reaction was heartless, a complete reversal of the smile he’d shown those children earlier. He was entirely pragmatic.
Loki did not think it was unfeeling, though. Being duplicitous and hiding behind appearances weren’t actions limited to gods. In fact, it was far more godlike to engage in this behavior. It would be more suspicious to have gods who were always smiling, filled with love, and never harboring any hidden intentions.
“Gaaaack! I’m gonna be late for my job?!”
…Well, there were always exceptions.
“Noisy as ever, aren’tcha…Itty-Bitty?”
“Gah…Loki?! Running into you at this wee hour…W-were you waiting here to laugh at me for being late?!”
“Who has the time for that kind of crap?”
“This was supposed to be my first day helping out at the sisters’ shop! Of all things, coming to laugh at me here…? You demon! You loafer!”
“Don’t go explaining things I don’t wanna hear! Like I care!”
Wearing the uniform of the Jyaga Maru Kun stand, the goddess Hestia was filled with love. She did not have a secretive bone in her body. Though whether it was a smile or rage on her face as she called Loki out was debatable.
“Hmph! Really? Aren’t you the incarnation of an idler just drinking the day away?!”
“I can’t really deny the main point, but I don’t want to hear it from you, dumbass! I’ve been super busy lately! Getting wrapped up in a battle for the fate of the city, crazy busy day and night!”
“What a load! If you’re going to lie, pick a more believable one, idiot!”
“You’ve done it now, you damn cow!!!”
Responding tit for tat, the two of them started to scuffle as if it was just the natural order of things. Loki was taking advantage of her height and pulling on both of Hestia’s cheeks—“Take that!”—while Hestia was trying to resist her, but in standard Hestia fashion, she could only let out a muffled screech as her cheeks were stretched and kneaded like dough. Lefiya desperately tried to stop them, but the goddesses’ quarrel did not stop. Filvis seemed exasperated by this display.
With a surprised look on his face, Dionysus smiled and bowed to Hestia.
“What a surprise to meet you here. Are you well, Hestia?”
“Ah! Dionysus! Long time no see!”
Because of her hostility toward Loki, she had not noticed anything else until she pressed on her swollen cheeks and finally saw Dionysus. Meanwhile, Loki and Lefiya were both surprised to see Dionysus of all people bow respectfully and nobly to Hestia.
“Hey! Dionysus…What sort of relationship do you have with this shrimp?”
“What? Our territories happened to be close in heaven. You could call it a neighborly relationship.”
“Oh yeah…She’s from the same place as you, right?”
“Yes, here stands the glory of Olympus.”
Hermes was from the same homeland as Dionysus, too, as were Hephaistos, Demeter, and Ikelos, who had been cast out from the city the other day. And most famously, Zeus and Hera. It irritated Loki just remembering them.
Thinking back, there certainly were quite a few gods and goddesses from Olympus residing in Orario.
“Seriously?! Dionysus, you’re hanging out with Loki?! You should be more careful who you play with! Seriously! Like, really, really seriously!”
“You rotten shrimp…” Loki trembled as she raised her fist at the little goddess overreacting in her protests.
As the pair looked ready to start another scuffle, Dionysus laughed wryly and explained in order to smooth things over.
“Hestia is a wonderful goddess. I’m one of many who have been honored to receive her affection. Words of gratitude cannot begin to repay the debt I owe her from back when we were in the heavens,” Dionysus explained in all honesty.
Loki’s face drooped, as if the muscles in her cheeks were suddenly obliterated. In truth, it was a rather ugly look, the sort that a goddess should never show, even by mistake. Meanwhile, Hestia put her hands on her hips and thrust her chest out with pride.
“At the time, our territory had a rule to select the Twelve Gods…our representatives. I despaired at not being able to take part, but…then Hestia lent me a hand.”
In the heavens where gods resided, there were territories similar to the countries of the mortal realm. And those territories had their own rules. Apparently, in their area, being one of the Twelve Gods represented an important position without any comparable substitute. And Hestia had relinquished it without a second thought, giving it to Dionysus.
“Yep! I let him trade places with me!”
“You probably just wanted to hole up in your temple and relax all day.”
“D-don’t be stupid!”
Turning away from Loki, who had hit the bull’s-eye, Hestia seemed deeply moved as she looked up at Dionysus.
“Back then, he was always on edge. At any point, I could expect him to shout, ‘The latent evil aura in my right fist will obliterate you assholes!’ Yeah, it was super painful to watch.”
“Could I ask you not to say things that will ruin my reputation? …Really. I mean it…” Closing his eyes, Dionysus chuckled slightly as he ran his hand through his hair—but said hand was trembling.
What the hell happened between them?
““Lord Dionysuuuuuus! Come here!”” some of the children called out eagerly.
“Oh my…Excuse me,” Dionysus said to the two goddesses before happily heading over toward the kids without a twinge of sorrow. In order to fulfill her job as his guard, Filvis went with him.
“…Huh, seems Dionysus is respected.”
“Yeah. There should be a limit to surprise.”
In contrast to Loki shrugging, Hestia looked intently at the god.
“It seems like Dionysus has gotten over his ‘illness.’”
That’s what she said.
“…Illness?”
In that instant, Loki creaked to a halt before slowly rotating her head toward Hestia, who was neither scowling nor smiling. There were no signs that Hestia was pulling her leg as she watched over the god.
“…What do you mean by that, shrimp? What are you talking about?”
Hestia turned back around at the question. The smaller goddess arched her brow dubiously as she met Loki’s gaze. “Aren’t you hanging out with him because you’re one and the same, Loki?”
“The same…? Me? Similar to him ?”
“I thought you made an odd combo at first, but that would explain it.”
“Hey! Wait just one minute. What are you actually trying to say?”
At that moment, Loki realized that she was perplexed, noticing a strange uneasiness rising up in her chest.
What are you talking about? That Dionysus and I are the same? That we have things in common? The part where we both manipulate people? That we both like to drink? What are you trying to say, Hestia? She struggled and stammered as she tried to put it all together, questioning the goddess in front of her.
“You both seriously got into it with other gods.”
“!!”
“That’s why I said you’re similar. You got into some serious knock-down, drag-out fights with other gods, too. Didn’t you, Loki?” Hestia looked at her with a piercing glare.
But Loki was not in a state of mind to be bothered by her pointed gaze. Sure, she’d gotten into a handful of murderous scuffles with other gods and goddesses in the heavens. In fact, she’d been so brutal and unprecedentedly destructive that those who knew her only once she’d mellowed out after coming down to the mortal realm and getting a familia could not begin to picture it. She had been so troublesome that she’d earned herself the stupid nickname “the ultimate trickster in all the heavens.”
Loki was amazed. She had never heard anything like that about Dionysus before, which was also the case for Lefiya, who was listening beside her.
“…Do you remember any of the people involved?”
“I guess I’d say everyone? Back then, Dionysus had a really bad temper, and he’d blow up at anyone who happened to be around. It’s like his usual serene disposition is a complete facade.”
“…”
“Buuut if I had to name a certain person, then it’d probably be Zeus…and outside the Twelve Gods, maybe Ouranos?” Hestia continued without taking notice of Loki’s silence as she tapped her slender finger on her chin.
Ouranos again, huh…?
Dionysus had been suspicious of the Guild even before they’d started working together. Or more to the point, he had been suspicious of Ouranos, who stood behind the scenes of the Guild. Until the situation with the Xenos came to light, he had been adamant in his distrust.
What happened between the two of them up there to make him that mad at the old man?
“Why was Dionysus picking a fight with Ouranos?”
“That’s why I said it’s an illness. Though maybe calling it a spasm would be better. I told you Dionysus was touchy way back, didn’t I?”
“…”
“When he got into it with Ouranos and the others, it was always over small things. Dionysus was constantly harping on them one-sidedly. Well, if you want to know exactly what triggered his fits and outbursts, you’d probably have to ask the actual people involved.
“It’s not like I know their personal relations,” Hestia added casually. At the same time, the little goddess who was the protector of those who prayed for aid looked a little bit sad, as if she was remembering the precarious situation.
In reality, there was a significant number of gods and goddesses who had festered in boredom up in the heavens, which cleared up when they came down to the mortal realm. Loki was one of them herself. However, Dionysus had not given off even the slightest hint that he was, too, in all the time she had dealt with him. In fact, she was struggling to imagine it.
“…What did you feel when you saw Dionysus back then?” Loki switched subjects.
How had he seemed at the time to someone from the same homeland? To someone who had seen him up close?
“Hmm…I thought he was scary, I think.”
And again, Loki was blown away—to hear Hestia say he was scary.
That slacker was popular in her own weird way: The most famous one from her network is Hephaistos, known for being stubborn up there. And Penia, too. And even that crazy, psycho, hyper-ultra-hysterical Hera. There were lots of gods and goddesses who made fun of her for being a kiddie goddess, too, but she has some weird connections with a ton of people.
For better or for worse, Hestia was fair: She didn’t discriminate or set people apart from one another. Though she got plenty mad at Loki, who picked fights with her or made fun of her, she held real authority, too. Loki suspected Ouranos and even Zeus acknowledged her. She was plain, but her status as a goddess, the one who ruled over the immortal flame, was undeniably high.
And for that Hestia to say Dionysus was scary…
“That’s why when they started brawling over the seat among the Twelve Gods, I said I’d step down if they were really gonna fight. I don’t like to be in tense situations.”
At the time, Hestia had hopped down from her chair, chirping, “Be sure to play nice!” before booking it out of the temple of the Twelve Gods. Loki could totally imagine it happening, which made her weak. But because Hestia had given up her seat, Dionysus’s illness had not developed into anything serious.
“Well, no one else seemed to notice it. Maybe I was imagining things,” Hestia concluded, looking up and glancing forward. She saw Dionysus surrounded by a ring of children wearing smiles. “But if this is the situation, then I guess there’s nothing to worry about now. That’s good.”
Standing next to her, Loki did not respond, about to press Hestia for more information.
“Hey, Itty-Bitty, tell me more—”
“Wait! Look at the time! I’m going to be late for my part-time job!” Hestia shrieked and dashed away, suddenly remembering her current predicament.
“Saying what you want and running away…”
Without enough time to stop her, Loki gradually lowered her outstretched hand as Hestia’s small form trailed away. Left behind, Loki looked back at Dionysus, as did Lefiya, who was flustered. The aristocratic god seemed composed and almost loving as he played with the children.
It was the seventh day of her special training. Aiz realized she was in the same position as the white-haired boy had been before. In any normal circumstance, she might have chuckled, been tickled, found it funny, but she did not have any capacity left for that. The sword in her right hand constantly flickered, parrying the never-ending storm of blows raining down on her.
“Slow.”
“—Gh?!”
She was struck by a powerful blow. Unable to fully block it, Aiz was sent rolling across the ground before she finally stopped herself, kneeling on one knee.
While Aiz breathed heavily, Ottar looked totally unruffled, not sweating at all.
Aiz’s wind had already run out from casting Airiel at the start of the training session, but before noon, she was out of Mind, and the combat turned into a pure hand-to-hand fight. She continued to cover the massive physical burden of strong magic with the elixirs that Ottar forced her to take.
What was most amazing was Ottar’s bottomless tenacity. Regardless of whether she used her wind or not, he had the overwhelming strength to totally shut her down. With frustration showing on her face, she roughly wiped away the mud covering her scratched cheeks.
“…Sword Princess.”
“…?”
Ottar abandoned his stance and, for the first time during their training, asked her a question: “How strong is the opponent you have to fight for you to go this far?”
Ottar was acknowledging Aiz’s resolve and intensity to endure the days of training as she came at him as though a desperate, cornered animal. For the first time, the city’s strongest showed an interest in the goal that had driven her to seek out special training with him.
“…I don’t know. I can’t see a cap to my enemy,” Aiz responded with her honest impression.
The creature with bloodred hair flashed through her mind. When Aiz thought she had surpassed her by leveling up to Level 6, Levis had become an enhanced species that leapfrogged past Aiz again at an inhuman speed. If Levis was increasing her strength by gathering magic stones, there was no longer any way to do a simple calculation of her strength. After struggling to put it into words, Aiz finally shared her perspective.
“But in pure Status terms…she’s definitely stronger than you as you’re facing me right now.”
“…”
While Aiz thought back to Levis’s strength when they had clashed in Knossos, Ottar’s eyes narrowed. As if she had fanned the flames of his fighting spirit.
One of the most frightening things about the boaz was that he wasn’t fighting at full strength—no use of magic or even any skills. Ottar was simply facing her with only his pure ability. And he was overpowering her with just his physical prowess despite her wind and other deadly techniques. He made free use of his unimaginable battle experience and an overwhelming depth of tactics. More than anything, considering Ottar’s race, she was sure that he still had an ace up his sleeve.
“A creature, huh? I heard about it from Tammuz, but…”
Aiz was shocked to hear him say the word creature out of nowhere, but Ottar paid her no heed as he continued.
“Sword Princess. After exchanging blows with you, I’ve understood something.”
“?”
“You are not as skilled as you think in combat against other people.”
“?!”
Aiz was so startled at his sudden declaration that her shock was almost audible. She was not full of herself by any means, but she did have some pride in having worked hard to get where she was—plus some shred of self-confidence in her nickname as the Sword Princess. To have that negated by someone who stood above her, by the undisputed strongest man in the city, was a blow to her self-esteem.
“Compared to those in your generation, you’re certainly excellent, plenty strong…But compared to Finn or me, you’re missing something.”
“…!”
“Our generation had Zeus and Hera, monsters that acted as if our counterattacks were nothing…During that time, the young people in Orario had no choice but to steep themselves in battle against other people.”
The words of the warrior who slid into memories of days past struck home with Aiz. It was the turbulent era that Finn and the others had managed to survive, the city’s Dark Ages—the cruel era that had continued until the end of the struggle with the Evils.
Was there no way to overcome the difference in experience? Was there no way for her to win against Levis as an adventurer? Aiz chewed on her lip.
“But don’t get it twisted. That’s not where your real ability lies.”
Right then, Ottar’s tone changed.
“Your sword’s true nature does not lie in fighting people—it’s a weapon for slaughtering monsters.”
“!!” Aiz was blown away.
When she snapped her head up, she saw that the green eyes looking down at her were the same as always.
“I’ve seen you fight in the Dungeon many times. And after this training, I’m sure of it. Your sword’s sole purpose is killing monsters…It takes it to the logical extreme, removing all extraneous concerns, without concern for wounds. An obsession. In that regard, you’ve surpassed me—and the rest as well, including Finn.”
Sword techniques wielded for the sole purpose of killing monsters. A murderous blade for slaughtering countless monsters, creating a mountain of their corpses. Ottar was saying that in that regard alone, she had left them in the dust. Aiz gazed in wonder and agitation as she foresaw what he was about to say.
“When you fought this creature, were you perceiving it as a person?”
“—…!”
That was correct. Aiz had crossed blades with Levis as if she were an adventurer or a warrior, just like Aiz was. That was entirely because she had a human form, because a mutual understanding had been possible. After she knew that Levis was a creature, she had stood against her as a warrior.
“Once you perceive an enemy as a person, even if it’s a monster, you have no chance of winning.”
The sword in her hands trembled at his assertion. There was no way he could know Aiz’s ability. And yet, it was as if he knew the full story of the skill engraved on her back.
It was true, if she wielded that power while fighting against Levis, the fight would go differently than it had in the past. But the source of her strength—her obsession—was wavering. Because of the resolve of the boy who she had fought under the moonlight and the tears of the dragon girl, it had lost its home. Faced with Aiz, who showed an even deeper anguish than before, Ottar’s eyes sharpened.
“…You lost your way after confronting the armed monsters, huh?”
“!”
Just how much does this man—?
It was as if he could clearly see into her mind. Sweat rolling down her face, her throat dry, Aiz started to move her mouth before she realized it.
“Why do you know…?”
“I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know, but I get it. None other than your own sword shows just how half-hearted your resolve is.”
The warrior was saying that the flying sparks and clashing blades had shown him everything. Aiz looked down at her hands. The silver blade reflected the face that was concealing her doubt.
“I can’t share an answer or any method to resolve your conflict. And I’ve no interest in making that happen. However, if I was to say something, then—” The city’s strongest adventurer halted. “Why do you think you can beat an enemy more powerful than you without pouring everything you have into it?”
Aiz was shaken even harder by this comment than everything leading up to it. She was unsure. In truth, she was trying to put off a resolution to her doubts. Given the existence of the Xenos, should she regard monsters as absolute evil that must be destroyed—or not? But the warrior standing before her shrugged off that concern. He was telling her that if there was a wall that she needed to overcome, then she should overcome it with all her might.
In the next moment, Ottar gave off a completely different vibe as he stepped sharply toward her. With her eyes wide open, Aiz managed to raise Desperate and catch his forceful blow.
“There is a flame in you. A black determination that will destroy you if you make a single misstep.”
“…!”
“Do not let it swallow you up. Control it. And remember.”
His mysterious statement triggered a shock. And he accompanied it with an unapologetic slash of his sword. The girl was visibly surprised as the boaz man beat that truth into her.
“The enemy you’re going to face—is nothing more than a brief stop in the grand scheme of things.”
“!!”
A scene flashed before Aiz’s eyes. A wild winter background. A bawling little girl who had lost everything. And a single wish that she had to achieve.
“—Ghhhhh!”
Aiz howled. As she deflected Ottar’s blade, the clash let out an explosive boom, and she lunged forward, beginning a raging counterattack. Her back ached with the sacred letters engraved in her skin.
But it was not the flames of destruction that consumed Aiz. Her eyes were fixed on the goal standing before her—fighting spirit focused on a single enemy.
Control it without being consumed. Don’t mistake what it’s for. Don’t destroy because of hatred. It’s all for the sake of winning—to protect my friends, my familia, and this city.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!”
It sparked a fire in Aiz’s resolve. With a strength that she had not wielded before, she kicked up a storm of steel.
“That’s good—”
It was a breakthrough that could not have happened were it not for Ottar. The words he spoke would not have been able to reach her if they had come from Riveria or Gareth, Finn or Loki, or those who knew her past. It was something she could learn only from him, someone who had no connection to her, the man known as the Warlord. A means of resolution.
Aiz’s sword accelerated as she focused on the enemy she had to defeat. The warrior standing before her overlapped with the image of that woman.
Narrowing his eyes, Ottar responded to those flames using only his strength.
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