It feels like we're in an archaeological ruin.
There's no longer that dreamlike sensation that permeated all the places
we'd been in up until now, and the cool air brings me back to reality.
The ceiling is high, and magic illuminates our surroundings.
"This must be the center." Violet turns, surveying the area.
"So what do I need to smash?"
I'm not seeing anything that looks like a magical core. Just a massive door
off to the side.
"It's probably beyond that door." Violet treads atop the stone floor as she
heads for it.
"Makes sense." I follow her.
The door is so big, it could probably let a hundred people through at once.
Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration.
Anyway, it's still a big-ass door.
It looks old as hell, and its surface is covered in dark bloodstains and
densely packed with ancient letters. Several chains, each link wider than a
human body, are wrapped around it, keeping it sealed.
"We can probably make it through if we cut the chain."
"Seems plausible."
I grab one of the links and give it a yank.
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No dice.
"Yeah, that's not happening."
I might be strong enough to win a magicless tournament, but tearing these
chains is physically impossible.
And if I try chopping through them with my sword, my weapon will
probably break before the links do.
"You know, there must be a key somewhere," offers Violet.
"Ooh, yeah, checks out."
It takes all of three seconds to find.
There's a pedestal next to the door with some sort of fancy sword stuck in
it.
"This is clearly it."
"It clearly is."
As expected, the pedestal is covered in tiny ancient letters, too.
"This sword should be able to break the chains," says Violet as she reads
the inscription.
But I know better. A sword stuck in a pedestal? This ain't my first rodeo.
"But I won't be able to draw it out…"
"I beg your pardon…?"
"I know these things…"
With that, I grab the sword by the handle and try pulling it out, but sure
enough, it doesn't budge an inch.
"As I thought… I get it now…," I murmur suggestively. "This blade can
only be drawn by the chosen one…"
"What…?!" Violet cries. She frantically traces over the ancient writing on
the pedestal with her finger.
As she does, I let go of the sword.
"The blade…is rejecting me…"
I'm just building up the mood here, upping the ante. I'm pretty sure it
isn't actually rejecting me.
But the fact that the chosen hero is the only one to draw this kind of sword
is just common sense. It's a time-honored plot device.
"Only a hero's direct descendant can draw the holy sword… You're right,
it's all written here. I'm amazed you were able to read that encrypted magic
script so quickly."
"Heh… I know all the devices…"
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"Oh, I see. You designed a device that encompasses ways to encode
magical script."
"Yeah, that. Definitely." I nod proudly.
Looks like we've got a holy sword stuck in a pedestal and a sealed door
that only the sword can unlock. It's clichéd, sure, but I love this kind of setup.
Nice! Now it really feels like I'm in a fantasy world.
"What to do…?" Violet mutters as she sits down on the pedestal.
"Is there another way through?" I ask, taking a seat beside her.
"No leads in writing, in any case."
"Oof."
We think in silence for a little bit. We must each be running through
different scenarios in our minds.
Finally, I speak up. "Do you want to disappear?"
"What?"
"When we destroy the core, I imagine you'll disappear."
"Ah, right. But call it liberation. That's more apt." Not looking my way,
Violet smiles.
"What's the difference?"
"This place is a prison, one where memories repeat for eternity. It…pains
me." Her voice almost disappears, like a whisper.
"I see. In that case, let's just wait a little longer."
"Wait for what…?"
"If we take enough time, I should be able to do something about the door.
Before that…looks like we have guests."
A sliver of light has appeared in front of the door, gradually widening,
until eventually a bald geezer and a cute elf emerge.
"Huh…?"
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing. That elf just kinda looks like a friend."
However, she's definitely someone else. Her bone structure is different, as
are her mannerisms and gait.
"Ah… So you brought along Aurora," Baldy says as he looks at Violet.
The two of us engage in a surreptitious convo.
"You know this guy?" I ask incredulously.
"Who knows? I don't recognize him, but my memories are incomplete.
It's possible we've met before."
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Baldy laughs. "A shame, really. It's impossible for the likes of you to
breach this door. You seem to have suffered a stroke of misfortune, boy."
"Me?" I point at myself.
"I don't know where you stumbled in from, but that witch has deceived
you, leading you to your death. At the hands of my Olivier, that is."
Upon receiving the bald geezer's orders, the pretty elf strides forward.
The old fogy is just a pushover, but this cutie is strong.
Violet and I have another quiet exchange.
"We can't… She's…," I start.
"I can tell. She's strong, huh?"
"We have to run."
"Why?"
Baldy cuts in. "If you want someone to blame, blame the witch, not me.
Curse her and your own folly…! Go, Olivier, kill him!"
She readies her sword, which happens to be a perfect replica of the holy
sword.
I match her by drawing my shitty school-issued sword. Her eyes are like
glass beads, and they're fixed solely on me.
I can feel my lips curl into a grin.
"Stop! You can't fight her!"
Why?
Violet's voice echoes behind me.
The battle begins with Cid getting blasted backward.
He violently crashes into the stone wall, then coughs up a mouthful of
blood.
Even though he looks about ready to crumple into a heap, Olivier doesn't
let up. She swings her holy sword and aims for the boy's neck.
She lops it clean off—or so it appears in that rapid exchange.
By leaning forward, Cid just barely ducks clear of Olivier's slash. Instead,
she carves a deep horizontal line in the wall.
Still, he knows her follow-up attack will come quickly. That's why he
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immediately steps forward, closing the space between them.
However, his resistance ends up having been for naught.
Cid takes a full step to the front, but Olivier's half step backward is far
faster.
Because he hadn't finished taking his step, he's defenseless in the face of
her strike.
Metal whines against metal, and Cid's sword snaps.
He barely manages to protect himself, but his flimsy sword splits in two
while his body bounces and rolls atop the stone floor.
It hardly qualifies as a fight. One side is obviously dominating.
But that's just to be expected.
Technique has nothing to do with it. Her strength, speed, resilience, and
all-around power are just fundamentally dimensions beyond his.
Just like how an adult can't have a fair fight against a baby, the end result
is predetermined when a young man who can't use magic goes up against a
hero who can.
The very fact that it isn't settled in a single blow is practically a miracle.
"Olivier, finish that child off," demands Nelson, clicking his tongue in
annoyance.
During the time Olivier stops moving, Cid struggles to his feet. His face is
covered in blood from his nose, and when he spits, that's red, too.
He looks at his bisected sword, giving it a small swing to test it out. It's
almost as though he thinks he'll have another chance to use it.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"Hmm?" Cid responds to Nelson's question by tilting his head.
"You still think you can accomplish something with that piece of scrap?"
"Maybe. I don't have many options, that's for sure."
"What's wrong with you?"
"Hmm?"
"Why are you smiling?"
Cid responds by reaching up and touching his cheek. Sure enough, there's
a smile there.
"There's nothing I hate quite as much as a man who doesn't know his
place. The only reason you're still alive is a stroke of dumb luck," Nelson
barks.
With a sweep of Nelson's hand, Olivier bounds forward.
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She slips behind Cid with the utmost ease, then brings her holy blade
down on him from above.
No counterattack, self-defense, or evasive trick can be made in time.
The only thing he's able to do is throw his body forward.
Blood gushes from Cid's back.
The blow tears his skin and rends his flesh, but he manages to avoid
suffering a fatal wound. All he's accomplished is to briefly prolong his life,
though.
Olivier advances on the helpless young man once more.
Her strike is merciless, leaving no room for a counterattack.
Blood sprays as shallow wounds etch themselves into Cid's body.
Yet he lives.
"Impossible…," Nelson mutters. His tone carries with it a sizable degree
of shock. "How are you still alive?"
Cid checks to make sure no further attacks are coming his way, then
forces his bloody body upright.
"Battles without dialogue are empty. That's why I'm still alive."
"What are you babbling about?"
"She doesn't have a heart, so she isn't answering any of my questions."
Cid's smile is tinged with disappointment, and his mouth is caked in blood.
"Enough of this! Kill him!" Nelson's eyes are those of a man looking at
the deranged.
Olivier springs into motion, but a figure intercedes at the last moment.
"Please stop."
The woman in question has jet-black hair and violet eyes. Aurora
embraces Cid's shoulder and helps prop him up.
"What's the matter?"
"Please. You need to stop," Aurora begs him.
She knew this would happen from the very start. The moment Aurora laid
eyes on Olivier, she'd known how powerful the elf was.
Aurora's memories aren't completely intact. They only cover about half
her life, but even though Olivier doesn't appear in these memories, for some
reason, Aurora knows she's dangerous. Despite not knowing Olivier, her
heart trembles, almost as if she does.
That's why Aurora desperately wants to stop Cid.
Contrary to her expectations, though, Cid fought.
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Maybe he could be the one to…
She didn't stop him in time, held back by that fleeting hope.
But this is plenty for her.
She's been scorned all her life, and not once has anyone ever put their life
on the line for her sake. She's made a memory she'll never forget, and that's
enough for her.
"There's no need for you to die. I can handle the rest."
Nelson laughs. "What can a witch do without her magic?"
"I can secure his escape at least." Aurora strides forward, protecting Cid.
"A witch saving a human? Wonders never cease. But…if you agree to
help me, I could be convinced to spare the boy's life."
"Help you?"
"Indeed. You've been oh so uncooperative, and it's caused us no shortage
of delays."
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh, you're just an incomplete memory. No matter. All you have to do is
agree to cooperate. Don't dawdle, or I'll kill the boy."
Aurora casts a brief glance back at Cid's face. "Okay, I'll do it…"
Cid interrupts them, his voice completely free from fear. "Hey, could you
guys not start deciding stuff on your own?"
Aurora looks back and glares at him. "I'm doing this for you, you
know…"
"I'm good."
Cid steps in front of Aurora.
"So I've been listening, and I'd really appreciate it if you guys could just
stop assuming I'm gonna lose. It's really starting to piss me off."
"What a tragic young man. Imagine being this oblivious to your situation.
To think—if you'd just shut up and done what you were told, I was prepared
to let you live."
"I told you—I'm good." Cid turns and looks at Aurora. "As for you, just
stay and watch."
"Enough. Kill him."
"No!!" Aurora reaches out, but she's unable to stop him.
Cid has already stepped forward and engaged Olivier.
As soon as he blindly steps forward, she greets him with her holy blade.
She leads with a thrust.
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The attack cleaves through the air at a blistering clip, then pierces his
abdomen.
The merciless strike runs him through.
"Gotcha." As he's stabbed, a grin spreads across Cid's bloodstained face.
He grabs Olivier's arm, then yanks with all his might. His muscles bulge,
screaming as they exceed their limits.
For just one instant, Olivier's movements are locked in place.
And she's in the perfect range for a half-broken sword.
Cid's blade slices toward the arteries in her neck, and Olivier bends
backward to evade the blow.
However, doing so ruins her center of gravity.
Tossing aside his sword, Cid grabs Olivier and pins her.
Then he bites down on her carotid artery.
His teeth impale her slender neck, then sink into the vein.
He holds her tight and presses down on her struggling arms as he chews.
Each time his teeth dig into her artery, Olivier's body convulses.
Eventually, Olivier cracks like a mirror. She shatters into pieces, then
disappears.
The only one left is Cid, covered in blood.
"I-it can't be happening… Olivier can't…! Curse you! How are you still
alive after she impaled you?!"
The wound in Cid's chest should have been fatal. No question.
The fact that he's alive is strange, and taking down Olivier in that state
borders on inhuman.
"It's so easy for people to die. Most of the time, all it takes is a small blow
to the back of the head. And hey, I'm no different. One little knock on my
skull, and that could be it for me." Cid stands, patting his wound as if to make
sure his body is still in one piece. "But as long as you protect your vitals,
you're surprisingly sturdy. You can get stabbed through the chest, but if you
protect your arteries and important organs, you won't die. Kinda sweet, don't
you think?"
"'Sweet'…?"
"Totally. You can eliminate the time spent dodging before you
counterattack. Just punch their face while they're punching yours. Rip apart
their neck while they're stabbing you in the gut. Offense and defense become
one and the same, and the tempo of your counterattacks accelerates to its
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absolute limit. They become nearly unavoidable."
"There's…something wrong with you." Nelson's face scrunches up, as
though he's looking at something grotesque.
"Are you okay…?"
Cid responds to Aurora with a nod. "So the elf chick's gone. You up to
bat next, Gramps?"
Nelson gulps, clearly flustered. "I—I get it. I never imagined you'd defeat
Olivier! You're clearly very powerful. I was wrong. I'm so sorry!!"
Nelson bows, but a chuckle soon escapes his lips.
"…Heh, did you really think I'd say that? Sure, I was surprised a boy with
no magic was able to take down Olivier. You're not just a child, even if your
victory was dumb luck. But a win is a win. Congratulations."
Nelson raises his head, clapping.
"But don't get cocky over beating a single low-grade copy. You could
never conceive of the quantities of magic slumbering within the Sanctuary.
That's why it can even do this."
Nelson waves his arm, and light floods the area.
When it dies down, Olivier is there.
And she's not alone.
An incalculable number of Oliviers, enough to fill the entire ruin, stand
where the light once was.
"This can't be happening…!" Aurora cries.
Cid's wound may not be fatal, but that doesn't mean it isn't serious.
There's no way he's in any state to fight.
"This is the power of the Sanctuary!!"
The Oliviers rush toward Cid.
Cid lets out a weak laugh. "Sorry, but…your time's up."
The Oliviers are charging at him from all directions, but…he mows them
all down.
"What?!"
It's unclear when it appeared, but he's holding an obsidian katana in his
hand.
"Where did you get that…? Wait—can you use magic?!"
Cid's body is bursting with bluish-purple energy.
The magic is so incredibly concentrated, it's visible. It glitters beautifully,
compressed to an unimaginable degree.
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"If my magic is getting sucked away, all I have to do is thicken it until it's
too dense to be absorbed. It took a little time, but it's pretty simple, really."
It definitely wasn't simple. Aurora was widely referred to as a witch, but
that technique is beyond even her.
"Th-this can't be…!! How can you do that?! Qu-quick! Kill him!!"
Nelson screams, his face frozen in fear.
The Oliviers bear down on Cid once more.
However, Cid stretches his jet-black blade out wide and fells them in a
single sweep.
"This isn't supposed to… Olivier isn't supposed to…!!"
"I told you—time's up."
One after another, the Oliviers attack Cid.
Although the black sword blasts them away, most don't immediately
disappear. After blocking the attacks with their holy swords, they rush back
at Cid.
"Man, you guys really are strong, and you keep on coming."
The Oliviers swarm, and Cid sweeps them back. The pattern repeats itself
faster than the eye can see.
Each time, blood drips from Cid's wound, and his face contorts in pain.
The equilibrium won't last. That fact is clear as day.
"Ha-ha! Good! Good! Keep it up!!" Nelson laughs, though his face has
taken on a scary look.
As Aurora watches Cid's predicament worsen, tears well up in her eyes.
"Please… Don't die…"
All she wants is for him to survive.
"We were supposed to draw the holy sword, cut through the chains, and
destroy the core, right?" Cid calls out to Aurora from the thick of his
desperate battle.
"What? I mean, yes…," Aurora replies, confused.
"That sounds like too many steps. What if I just blew everything up?"
"That would be fine, but…you can't be serious, right?"
Cid smiles, slashing in every direction.
The Oliviers are all scattered, giving him a brief moment of respite.
He flips his sword to an underhand grip, then holds it overhead.
Bluish-purple energy spirals around him, collecting in the length of his
obsidian katana.
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"I AM…"
"Wh-what is that?! N-no! Stop!!"
The Oliviers charge.
The one in front strikes with her holy sword.
The full-strength blow pierces Cid's defenseless chest.
More specifically, it strikes the location of his heart. Covered in blood, her
blade bursts out his back.
Aurora screams and extends her hand.
"…ATOMIC. ALL-RANGE ATTACK."
His chest impaled, he brings his sword down and stabs the ground.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!"
The bluish-purple magic immediately fills their vision.
The Oliviers vanish, Nelson disintegrates, and the holy sword melts away.
Then, the magic continues swallowing the surroundings.
His attack is an esoteric technique designed to annihilate everything
within a small range in all directions.
And on that day, the Sanctuary is completely wiped out.
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When he comes to his senses, Cid finds himself surrounded by darkness.
Even when he squints, all he can make out is an endless black abyss.
But amid that darkness, where left and right, up and down, and even his
perception of self start to fade away, he senses something floating up.
It's a hideous left arm bound in chains.
It looks like it's far off in the distance, yet if he reached out, it seems
almost close enough to touch.
Suddenly, the chains crumble, their fragments cascading downward.
The arm, now free, reaches out as though to grab Cid.
Cid readies his obsidian blade, and the world…is engulfed in light.
It's early in the morning, and Cid finds himself standing in a forest. It's
where he was when he first went through the door.
He glances around, but the arm is nowhere to be seen. He squints as the
morning light strikes his eyes.
"You got stabbed through the heart, but you seem none the worse," he
hears a voice call out from behind him. He turns to find Aurora there, looking
somewhat fuzzy.
"I shifted it out of the way. I'm a little tired, though…"
He looks up at the morning sky, sighs, then steadies himself against a tree
as he sits down.
"You're just full of surprises. More than little old me…" Aurora sits down
beside him, reaching out to touch the wound on his chest.
When she pulls her hand back, though, there isn't any blood. Her hand has
passed right through him.
"You're disappearing, huh?"
"It would seem that way."
The two of them sit side by side and gaze at the splendor of the sunrise.
"I was the one who called you there. I'm sorry for lying to you."
"It's all good."
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"I lied about other things, too."
"It's all good."
Small birds start chirping. The morning dew glistens in the sunlight.
"For so long, I'd just wanted to get it over with and disappear. I wanted to
forget everything."
"Mm."
"But now, I was able to make a memory I never want to forget. Even if I
disappear, I hope to carry that one with me." She smiles. "Thank you for
giving me something so precious."
With that, she begins fading away. Her forced smile is sorrowful.
"Hey, I had fun, too. Thanks for that."
"If, by any chance, you ever find the real me…" She cups Cid's cheek in
her hand as she speaks, but he can't even see her anymore.
There's nothing before him but the silent, lonely forest.
"'Please kill me,' huh…?"
Cid reaches up and touches his cheek as he murmurs Aurora's final
words. He can still feel her warmth on it.
Alpha and Epsilon gaze down upon Lindwurm from atop the mountain's
summit.
Alpha's dress flutters in the wind, exposing her pale legs.
"The Sanctuary has been annihilated."
"I noticed." Alpha squeezes the bridge of her nose. "Were we able to
recover the holy sword?"
"It evaporated."
She sighs. "What about a sample of the core?"
"All gone, too."
Alpha shakes her head. "He chose the simplest, most decisive solution.
Very like him."
"That's what makes him Master Shadow, after all," Epsilon replies
triumphantly.
"His path is the one we must take." The morning sunlight reflects off
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Alpha's luscious blond hair, causing it to shine. She squints at Lindwurm, off
in the distance. "And Beta?"
"She's guiding the princesses. She says that if she plays her cards right,
she might be able to infiltrate their ranks."
"I see. And the survey of the Sanctuary?"
"We've completed everything we still can."
"What do we know?" Alpha closes her eyes as she listens to Epsilon's
report.
Her head is clear, and she's able to sort through the information instantly.
"That's plenty. And what about the other matter?"
"It appears our hypothesis was on the mark." Epsilon wavers for a
moment, then delivers her answer as simply as possible. "Aurora the
Calamity Witch…is also known as Diablos the demon."
Alpha's blue eyes are fixed on the distant sunrise. "I see… That explains
why he…"
Another piece of the puzzle clicks into place.
After Alexia leaves the Sanctuary, she finds herself in a forest.
When she looks around, she discovers Rose and Natsume are standing
beside her.
The three of them had all been near each other when they fled the
Sanctuary.
Rose tilts her head. "Where are we…?"
"Lindwurm Forest, I think. I can see the town off in the distance," replies
Natsume. The other two check, and sure enough, they can make out the town,
too.
It's impressive that she noticed, given how hard it is to see between the
slim gaps in the trees.
"I think we should head back."
"Agreed."
Before Rose and Natsume can get far, though, Alexia calls out to stop
them. "Wait."
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"What is it?"
"Is something the matter?"
The two stop and look at her.
"Hey, don't you hate it?"
"What do you mean…?"
"I'm afraid I don't quite follow."
Alexia looks back and forth between them. "We were completely
powerless back there. But that's not the worst of it. We couldn't even tell
who was good and who was bad. We were useless spectators who couldn't so
much as make out who was in the right…"
"Alexia…"
"If we keep on this way, if we stay in the dark, then we're sure to
eventually lose everything we hold dear. I can't be the only one who thinks
that, right…?"
"Alexia, the truth is…something's been on my mind, too. Back when the
academy was attacked, I think there were powerful organizations secretly
pulling the strings. After all, we don't know anything about either the
Shadow Garden or the ones opposing them…"
"I understand how you feel, but what are you planning to do, Princess
Alexia?"
Alexia crosses her arms. "We're weak and missing vital information, but
surely, there's at least something we can do together. I'm a princess of the
Midgar Kingdom, and Rose is the princess of the Oriana Kingdom. You're an
author, so you must have made some connections that way. What say we
gather information, then share it?"
"You've laid out the beginnings of a plan. What's the endgame?"
"That depends on what we find, but if the three of us join forces, we can
probably fight back or something. Or we can try to gather allies, or…"
"Your plan seems alarmingly vague."
When Natsume points that out, Alexia glares at her. "Th-that's why I'm
saying we need to gather information, so we can scrutinize it and decide what
to do from there!"
"That's all well and good if you're smart enough to parse intelligence,"
Natsume quietly mutters.
"I'm sorry. Did you say something?"
"Oh, nothing."
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Alexia continues glaring, and Natsume flashes a wide smile. The two stare
at each other for a little while.
"So what will it be? Will you form an alliance with me or not?"
Rose is the first to extend her hand. "I'm in. I'll try finding out what I can
in the Oriana Kingdom."
Next, Natsume lays her hand atop Rose's. "I'll use my connections as an
author to dig around, too."
Finally, Alexia places her hand on the pile. "Then it's decided. From now
on, we're allies. We come from different countries and backgrounds, and
none of us really knows what lies in one another's hearts, but I have faith
we're on the same side."
Rose smiles. "I like the sound of that. Allies trying to lay bare the world's
hidden truths… It's like the start of a legend or something."
"We have the roles of hero, sage, and deadweight all present and
accounted for," remarks Natsume, smiling at Alexia.
"With you being the deadweight, of course," counters Alexia, grinning
back at Natsume.
Their pact sealed, the three of them stride forth side by side.
Off in the distance, the morning sun shines bright on the town of
Lindwurm.
The vast majority of Gamma's job is taken up managing the business side of
Mitsugoshi, Ltd.
Whether she's content with this or not, the fact of the matter is that her
lack of combat prowess leaves her with few other options.
In truth, she dreams of fighting chicly by her master's side, but that's her
little secret.
This is what compels her to spend another day dutifully minding
Mitsugoshi's affairs.
Her job has taken her to Madlid, which is on the outskirts of the Velgalta
Empire. Currently, she's in the middle of negotiating with a feudal lord about
opening a new storefront for Mitsugoshi.
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"Ms. Luna, I personally recommend this property."
Gamma's guide, Rude, bears a flashy smile. He's the eldest son of the
lord in question.
Luna is the name Gamma uses in public when she's acting as the
president of Mitsugoshi.
"It faces out onto the main road, and it gets great sun. The property boasts
a generous frontage. With the land, it comes out to one hundred forty million
zeni, but as a special favor, I'm prepared to let it go for one hundred twenty.
We would be overjoyed to have Mitsugoshi here."
"I see."
The man is right; the plot is excellent. The building isn't bad, either. It's a
bit on the older side, but it's three stories tall, spacious, and sturdily built.
A little remodeling is all it would take to establish a usable storefront.
Demolishing the old and constructing a new building is another option. Most
of the property's value is in its location, after all.
However, the problem lies in the fact that he's willing to give up a prime
piece of real estate for a mere 120 million zeni.
An identical plot in the capital of the Midgar Kingdom would easily run
ten times that, and even in other similar provincial areas, it would probably
go for five times more.
However, there's a perfectly good reason this bargain is still on the
market.
The issue isn't the plot but the town as a whole.
Madlid is a minor region of the Velgalta Empire, and to be blunt, its
population is in decline. There are all sorts of reasons for that, but of them,
two are most prominent.
The first is its location. It's horrible.
It takes over a month for a carriage fully loaded with goods to get from
Madlid to the next closest town. Considering the time and cost involved, it
quickly becomes clear why the town is ill-suited for commerce.
The second is that the imperial capital of Velgalta is experiencing a new
wave of prosperity, drawing all of Madlid's youth and merchants to uproot
their lives and move there.
Well, much of this is due to Mitsugoshi opening up a branch in the capital
and the subsequent redevelopment, but both she and Rude are avoiding
making any allusions to that fact.
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Anyhow, for these reasons, Madlid as a town is rather short on merit.
Furthermore, firms are the only ones who would want to buy such a
ridiculously large parcel of land off the town's main drag. Similar lots could
be found all over town.
In other words, opening a new store is financial suicide unless you can
come up with a way to solve those fundamental problems.
"We would love it if you opened a store here!"
Rude is visibly desperate. He had, of course, heard rumors about the effect
Mitsugoshi had on the imperial capital.
If the retailer opened a store in Madlid, it would stop the city's population
from dwindling further, and the graph of their failing financial situation
would suddenly soar—or at least, that is what Rude has deluded himself into
thinking.
That's not how it'd actually go down.
Until the underlying problems were solved, a new branch would be
nothing more than a drop in the bucket.
"Should I…?"
"I—I hear you loud and clear. I'm willing to drop it to a flat one hundred
million zeni!"
Seeing Gamma's indecision, he slashes the price even further.
However, Gamma has no intention of giving him an answer for a
reduction of a mere twenty million zeni. She's already spent over a week
indecisively touring the town's real estate, and she hasn't given him a single
definitive answer yet.
She's already seen everything she needs to.
Now she's just waiting.
"—Ms. Luna." And there it is. An attractive young woman dressed in a
Mitsugoshi uniform comes up behind Gamma and whispers in her ear.
"We've finished the survey."
"And?"
"It will work."
"Is it here?"
"Petroleum? We're certain of it."
"—I see."
That day, Gamma shows Rude a smile for the first time. "I'll take it."
"Oh my, you will?! In that case—"
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"In fact, I'll take every plot along this road."
"—Excuse me?"
"I'm saying if you're willing to meet our conditions, we're prepared to
redevelop Madlid into the best town in the empire."
"—What?"
"Would you be willing to expand the Nyle River's tributaries and build a
canal?"
"Um…yes?"
"Excellent, then let's get started." Gamma begins issuing orders to her
subordinate. "Buy up all the necessary land downstream of the Nyle. We're
about to have a real estate bubble on our hands…"
With that, they take off briskly. Eventually, only the dumbfounded Rude
remains.
He gapes at his surroundings, then mutters, "Oh, right… I have to report
to Father…"
—The weak are worthless.
Born and raised a therianthrope, she had this lesson drilled into her by her
family.
Her clan was large, even for canine therianthropes, and her father—the
chief—had over a hundred children to his name. She had been born to one of
his lower-ranked mistresses, so no one expected much from her.
At mealtimes, her portions were meager, and she was always skinny and
famished.
When she turned three, they eventually stopped feeding her altogether.
She was little more than skin and bones by the first time she staggered
into the forest to hunt for herself. There, she slew a boar twice her size by
bashing in its skull, then she drank its lifeblood and gorged herself on its
organs.
She realized then that not only could she sustain herself with her own two
hands but doing so was surprisingly easy.
Now she knew that was what it meant to live.
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Food handed to you was worthless.
It only held value if you hunted it yourself.
After she returned to her village, drenched in her prey's blood, word
began to spread.
Even among therianthropes, a three-year-old girl killing a boar was hardly
normal.
Yet that was precisely what she had done.
Her senses and physical strength were superlative, and she could even use
magic despite never having had any formal training.
If a child her age came picking a fight, she'd take them down in a single
blow, and whenever she got hungry, she'd go off and hunt her own food.
Her malnourished frame quickly filled out, and before long, she'd grown
into a young girl with fair looks and supple muscles.
By the time she turned twelve, the only person in her clan who could best
her was the chief.
It would only have taken a few more years—or maybe even just one—and
she might well have surpassed him, too.
However, that never happened.
Instead, black bruises spread all across her body.
She was…one of the possessed…
…and the possessed had to be driven from the pack. That was an ironclad
rule.
After fleeing with her disease-ridden body, she began hunting throughout
the forest and prowling aimlessly.
She loved to hunt.
Hunting had given her life. Every instinct in her body told her that hunting
was what she had been born to do.
Consequently, being driven from her pack didn't bother her much.
As long as she could keep on living and hunting, she was fine with that.
However, the illness ate away at her. Her body rotted, and she gradually
grew so weak that it became impossible for her to hunt.
She collapsed by a woodland stream and looked up at the heavens.
"I can…still…hunt…"
She could smell the beasts, sense their footsteps, hear their cries.
The forest was massive, but she could make out traces of distant prey like
it was right in front of her. If her body would only move the way she wanted
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it to, she could hunt them all down with ease.
"My prey…calling out…to me…"
But even though she extended her blackened, rotting hand, all she caught
was air.
"But I…can still…hunt…"
Eventually, her vision grew dim.
Knowing she didn't have long to live, she smiled when she heard a wolf
howling nearby.
The wolf had come to hunt her.
This was her chance.
She couldn't move anymore, but she could lure her prey to her.
The moment the wolf tried to bite her, she would tear out its throat with
her teeth.
She stifled her breathing and waited for the wolf to come.
But it never did.
"Wh…y…?"
The wolf's presence grew distant, and a blond elf appeared in its place.
"It's progressed pretty far… You must have an incredible force of will to
be able to stay conscious in that state," the elf observed. She offered her hand
but was frantically forced to retract it a moment later.
Chomp.
The therianthrope girl's fangs met empty air.
She turned her inflamed face toward the elf, glared at her, and smiled.
"Looks like…I found…a big one…"
With the last of her strength, she willed herself to her feet.
Animals weren't the only prey she knew. Strife between therianthrope
tribes was common, and hunting foes was something else she lived for.
The moment she laid eyes on the elf, she knew: The girl standing before
her was the kind of big game that really got her blood boiling.
"What…?! How can you still stand…?!" The elf girl started to back away.
"Grah!!" That's when the therianthrope girl pounced at her. No ailing
person should have been able to move so fast.
"…?!"
The elf dodged her fangs and retreated a good distance, but the
therianthrope forced her unstable body to pursue.
"Stop that! I'm trying to help—! Seems like talking isn't getting me
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anywhere. I might end up hurting you, so it looks like I'll need to ask for his
help…," she muttered, then turned around and left.
"W-wait…wai…t…" The therianthrope chased her for a few steps, then
collapsed headfirst.
She no longer had the strength to go after her.
The fight had drained the last of her energy…just when she thought she'd
have one last chance to hunt a big one…
Despondent, she closed her eyes.
For a little while, all she heard was the quiet ambiance of the forest until
nearby footsteps caught her ears. She opened her eyes in surprise.
Standing beside her was a dark-haired boy dressed all in black. She
couldn't feel his presence at all.
"My name is Shadow…"
When she looked up into his eyes, her whole body trembled.
—She wouldn't win.
She wouldn't be able to beat him, no matter how hard she tried.
What told her that wasn't logic but instinct, and she comprehended it
instantly.
The only person stronger than her was her father, the chief of her clan,
and even he didn't scare her.
But this boy was different.
His strength as a living creature was fundamentally beyond hers.
When she saw his toned body, she could tell it was built for combat.
When she sensed his sharpened magical skills, she could tell they were
potent enough to blow the entire area to kingdom come.
When she looked at his steely eyes, she knew he could tell exactly how
strong she was.
The gulf between their strengths was so vast, though, she couldn't even
muster the will to fight.
She feared his strength and, as a matter of course, obeyed what her
instincts told her to do in the face of a mightier being.
In other words—she submitted.
"Purr…"
She flopped over, exposing her belly and wagging her tail.
"She seems perfectly docile…"
"When I tried to get close to her, she was rabid."
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The boy and the elf shared a puzzled exchange.
"Eh, whatever. I'm gonna heal her now."
"Allow me to help."
With that, the boy surrounded the therianthrope with his dark-blue magic.
The elf awkwardly tried to assist.
"Purr…"
As they did, the therianthrope just kept wagging her tail with her belly
exposed.
A little while later, after the first round of treatment was finished, they
were joined by two more elves, one with silver hair and one with blue.
The girl wasn't fully healed but had recovered enough to be able to walk
around again.
"I'm Alpha. I'm sorry for springing this on you, but I'd like to explain a
few things about our organization and your body—"
As the elf named Alpha began droning on about some incomprehensible
nonsense, the therianthrope girl examined her body.
Thanks to the Shadow boy's magic, she'd recovered remarkably.
She would never forget the strength and warmth of his magic.
Now, she could hunt again.
"—and because of that, we fight against the Cult."
She didn't fully follow but understood this was to be her new pack.
She had no objections to that.
After all, its chief, Shadow, was the strongest being she knew. To serve
the strong was her pride.
As long as it had Shadow, this pack would become the strongest in the
world.
On to world domination!! That thought glistened in her mind.
"Delta. From now on, that will be your name."
"Del-tuh… My new name from Boss man…"
She liked it far better than her old name. After all, it was something Boss
man had given her.
Boss man was amazing! He was the strongest. As far as she was
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concerned, he was the best in all the world!
That was why there was something she needed to do.
She glanced at the three elves standing around her. The blue one wasn't
even in contention. The silver one was so-so. The blond one, though, was
strong.
Shadow was the pack's undisputed top dog, which meant Alpha was
surely his number two.
In other words, Delta needed to—
"Hey, Blondie!" Glaring, Delta pointed at Alpha. "From now on, I'm
number two!"
Fighting to determine pack hierarchy was extremely important to
therianthropes.
"Submit and show me your belly!"
"—Excuse me?"
Hearing that, Alpha's magic started to flare.
Epsilon's mornings start early.
She's up before the sun rises and stands before a large mirror clad in her
negligee.
She only sleeps for three hours. However, her master taught her a
technique that removes fatigue with magic while she sleeps, so three hours is
plenty for her. Ample beauty sleep.
By only sleeping three hours a day, she's able to spend the other twentyone productively.
She takes care of her training and missions, of course, but her number one
priority is self-improvement.
That's why she wakes up early to stand in front of the mirror.
The first thing she needs to inspect are her slime-padded breasts.
Standing before the mirror, she turns the massive slime blobs over in her
hands.
Are they bodacious and shapely?
Are they firm yet soft to the touch?
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Most importantly, do they look natural?
She absolutely can't let anyone find out about her padded little secret.
They have to be realer than real, more natural than natural. That's the
standard to which she holds her chest as she inspects the slime.
After almost an hour of rotating and massaging, she finishes her
inspection and fine-tuning.
Next, she makes sure her figure is well proportioned.
Does her waist corseted in slime cast an appropriate silhouette?
Are her thickened hips beautiful?
What about the slim plumpness of her butt, the form of her calves…the
length of her legs…?
By the time she's finished all of her checks, the morning sun has long
since risen.
She then sheds her negligee, dons a casual dress atop her slime, applies
her makeup, and does her hair.
At this point, she's finally fit to appear in front of others.
As the finishing touch, she stands in front of the mirror one last time,
twirls, and readies her Epsilon-style Hidden Technique: Master Shadow
Come-Hither Pose.
"Beautiful as ever," she sighs with a smile. Her voice is rich with
confidence.
All of this is for her master's sake. This is the extent to which she's
pushed her daily routine.
However, she holds the Master Shadow Come-Hither Pose longer than
usual today. As she maintains the position, which serves to emphasize her
slime breasts, an unpleasant smile spreads across her face.
"Heh-heh… Heh-heh-heh… Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
She's smiling because she's reminiscing.
Specifically, she's thinking about something that happened the other day
in Lindwurm, back when she was reunited with her master after a long
absence.
She'd elegantly dispatched one of the Cult's assassins as she swooped
down before Lord Shadow.
Whenever she was reunited with her master, her heart always beat even
harder than usual. This time, though, he'd been staring right at her…
…and his fierce gaze had locked on her breasts!
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Epsilon's beauty, glamour, and effort had finally snatched her master's
attention.
Her cheeks had reddened, but she'd pretended not to notice her master's
fervent gaze. As soon as he left, though, her feelings erupted, and she let out
a loud victory cry.
"I won! I beat Mother Nature!"
Immediately after, she snapped back to her senses.
This isn't Lindwurm, the Sacred Land. It's her bedroom.
However, the memory is etched in her heart: that fleeting moment with
her master's gaze burning into her chest—
"Heh-heh! Heh-heh-heh…"
Finally, she releases the Master Shadow Come-Hither Pose. However, the
wicked smile is still plastered on her lips.
That day, that moment, was unmistakably the pinnacle of her life.
Simply thinking back to it, she can return to the peak of her existence.
She feels like a phoenix, coming back again and again…
Thus, Epsilon's day once again begins at its zenith.
After leaving her bedroom, Epsilon walks down the hallway and runs into
Beta for the first time in a while.
They trade superficially amiable greetings.
"Good morning, Beta."
"Good morning, Epsilon."
The exchange is casual. However, neither looks at her comrade-in-arms'
face for so much as an instant.
Their gazes are focused elsewhere—each other's breasts.
Each of their chests sticks out like a pair of rockets, and they stare at their
opponent's assets as if gazing upon an archnemesis.
Then, they both thrust out their chests.
Each sucks in as much air as they possibly can, projecting their breasts
forward to their absolute limit.
This is a battle neither woman is willing to lose.
The protruding boobs and slime smash into each other, then wobble.
"Heh-heh…"
"Rrr…"
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Once again, the victor is Epsilon. After all, she's shaped her slime
specifically to beat Beta.
Originally, their battle had been one-sided hostility on Epsilon's part.
However, as Epsilon used her slime to push up and pad, a sense of rivalry
took root in Beta, and today, Epsilon isn't the only one with something black
and ugly stuffed in her chest.
Still, they are teammates.
They've suffered through difficult training and fought side by side, and
the two of them definitely share a sense of comradery.
Each trusts and considers the other important.
Most of the time, they're able to get along peacefully.
Key word: most of the time.
Normally, after exchanging greetings, they simply pass by and continue
on their ways. Having spent countless hours together since childhood, they
feel little need to share prolonged pleasantries.
However, today is different.
Epsilon's mountainous pride refuses to simply let her rival walk off in
silence.
"You know, something surprising happened to me recently…"
"What could that be?"
Epsilon breaks the ice, and Beta freezes. The boobs and slime continue
their squishy collision as the girls talk.
"It happened the other day, during the mission in the Sacred Land… I felt
our lord's gaze burning a hole in me…"
"What?!"
"I felt his hot gaze…focused…right…here…" Epsilon's cheeks redden,
and she fidgets restlessly as she speaks.
"Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh-wh—? Th-that can't be! Y-you must be mistaken!"
"Oh, no, it was not a mistake. You should know, Beta. We're very aware
when people look at us."
"Rrr… Y-you're right…"
The two of them are both curvy from head to toe, and they find
themselves on the receiving end of the male gaze all the time. They've both
naturally grown conscious of when it's happening.
"That was what I found so surprising. I never thought he would fix so
fervent a stare on the likes of me…"
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"Gh… Our lord…? There's no way…" Mortified, Beta glares at Epsilon.
"I mean, is it even proper for our lord to fall for someone as lowly as
me…?" Epsilon sniggers as she puts emphasis on that last bit. "After all,
think about it. Your figure is so much nicer than mine, Beta, and you're so
much prettier!"
"Wh—?!"
Epsilon is lording over Beta.
Her triumphant face makes it abundantly clear she doesn't consider
herself lowly in the slightest.
It's the hollow modesty of the victor.
Her words are the proclamation of a woman whose figure is better, whose
looks are stronger, and who's earned the affection of their lord. Each and
every one of her compliments is backhanded.
Epsilon speaks from a place of superiority. Spurred by her pride, she
always does.
"Your boobs are so big…"
"Urk—"
"And your waist is so small…"
"Urrrk—"
"And your legs are so long…"
"Urrrrrk—"
"Why, you're so pretty!"
"Urrrrrrrk—"
To deliver the clincher to her wounded foe, Epsilon unveils Hidden
Technique: Master Shadow Come-Hither Pose and flaunts its overwhelming
power directly before Beta's eyes.
Tears immediately begin welling up.
"Surely you must have felt his hot gaze on you before, right?"
"I—I—I—I—I—I—I—I—I…"
"Don't tell me you haven't."
"I—I—I—I—I—I—I—I—I…"
"That can't possibly be true…"
"I—I—I—I—I—I—I…I, I… Boo-hoo!" Beta weeps as she runs off.
"Heh-heh-heh… All the natural ones should just be culled from the
world… Now I'll be on the receiving end of his affection… Only me…"
Epsilon smiles as she watches Beta flee.
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Some say her beloved master once muttered in an empty room, "Epsilon's
head is as swollen as her slime pads."
Just as he said, her pride swells beyond the heavens. If her ego wasn't so
big, she would be incredibly docile and caring.
If she wasn't so proud, that is…