How disagreeable, Alexia silently mutters to herself.
She's sitting in one of the seats for the special guests, waiting for the opening ceremony of the Goddess's Trial to begin. The seats in question are occupied by Natsume, Alexia, and Rose. There are a number of other guests behind them, but they're the main attractions. It's painfully obvious they're being used to draw an audience as de facto booth babes, but she can overlook that.
There are two things Alexia finds disagreeable.
The first is Nelson. The acting archbishop is busy pompously greeting everyone in the center of the grounds. When she talked with him earlier about the archbishop's murder the day before, he obstinately refused to let her look into the incident.
It all started when Nelson spouted some nonsense about the inspection being called off because the subject was dead. Alexia had replied that made the investigation all the more necessary, dumbass, though she'd obviously used more diplomatic language. Nelson insisted she needed to get her request reapproved if she wanted to conduct an inspection.
Even if she hurried, it would take her three days to get back to the capital, at least a week to get approval, and another three days to return to Lindwurm. Who knows how long it would take Nelson to accept her permit once she actually brought it to him? Depending on his mood, he could easily end up making her wait an additional week. It went without saying that after all that time passed, crucial evidence could be lost forever.
That said, Alexia knew she was acting as a representative of her country, so she couldn't exactly force his hand. Holy Teachings wasn't just practiced in the kingdom of Midgar but in all the nearby nations, too. If she tried to push the issue, she was liable to receive backlash from their neighbors, not to mention lose the support of the populace. Religion made for a handy ally, but as a foe, it was an absolute nuisance.
She glares at Acting Archbishop Nelson as he jovially continues giving his address. At least grieve a little, baldy, she silently mutters to herself. The archbishop's death hasn't been reported to the public, but still. Oh, and by the way, Nelson is bald.
Alexia sighs, then glances at the woman in her periphery, Natsume or whatever, sitting to her left.
Natsume is the other thing that irks Alexia.
Natsume sits politely beside her, responding to the crowd's cheers with a broad smile. Her elegant silver hair frames her blue feline eyes and accompanying mole, and her features only serve to enhance her likability.
Thanks to her pearly smile and queenly wave, her lovely appearance, and her graceful conduct, she's wildly popular.
As Alexia looks at her, she becomes more and more certain there's something fishy about her.
Maybe Natsume is the kind of genius author who comes around once in a millennium and maybe she isn't, but the fact of the matter is that Alexia hadn't so much as heard of her prior to that day. True, Alexia doesn't have a shred of interest in literature, but as a princess, she does put some effort into knowing who's who. In other words, Natsume must have only just risen to prominence recently.
For a rookie to have such presence, to conduct herself so well, and to be so popular? That is fishy.
She isn't jealous! If anything, it's the kind of hate that arises from being cut from the same cloth.
Alexia knows how to conduct herself flawlessly in front of the public. She lives her life repressing her true self and playing the part of a perfect princess. Most people in positions of power are playing a role in some capacity, but it's hard to come by someone willing to sacrifice themselves to perform the part to perfection. It's a safe bet to say that the more an actor sacrifices to pull off the ultimate performance, the darker their underside.
"Thank you all," Natsume calls out to the crowd. Alexia clicks
her tongue.
She finds that soft, ingratiating voice of Natsume's grating. Her exposed chest is too calculated as she stoops over to show off her cleavage... Well, aren't you just the cutest?
As she internally bad-mouths Natsume, Alexia waves at the gathered masses with an unchanging smile.
However, the crowd clearly reacted to Natsume better. For a moment, Alexia's cheek twitches, and she crosses her arms. As she uses them to push up her breasts, she hunches over. Just a little.
The crowd's cheers grow ever so slightly louder.
Emphasis on ever so slightly.
W-well, my neckline isn't very low, so it's hardly my fault, Alexia silently reassures herself as she returns to her seat.
She casts a fleeting glance to her right, where Rose is smiling happily. She's been like that all morning.
Then, just in case, the princess glances to her left.
In that moment, she sees something: the corners of Natsume's lips curled up in a mocking smirk.
Something inside Alexia snaps.
1
How disagreeable, Beta silently mutters to herself as she plays the role of Natsume the novelist.
There is just one thing she finds annoying, and it's sitting to her right: Alexia Midgar. She's the vermin who used her position as a princess and a friend to get close to Beta's beloved master.
Everything is fishy about that woman, behaving like a model princess by cajoling the crowd with her sickeningly soft, ingratiating voice and waving at them with that questionable smile. When it comes to women who pretend to be perfect as a matter of habit, it's generally a safe bet they have a dark underside. There isn't a doubt in Beta's mind that her master would never fall for such a wench, but even a one-in-a-million chance is still a chance.
And even if that didn't end up being a problem, the woman was still a nuisance, one whose presence was most unwelcome in the pages of Beta's The Chronicles of Master Shadow.
When Beta heard Shadow saved that woman during The Case of
the Kidnapped Princess, her blood boiled. It filled her with rage that she hadn't been the one who'd...er, wait, uh...at the fact that girl had caused so much trouble for her master. Right. It wasn't jealousy, obviously!
In order to contain her fury, Beta rewrote that section, replacing the role of the victim saved by Shadow with an adorable silver-haired, blue-eyed elf with a beauty mark. She stayed up late at night reading and rereading that section over and over.
But now, the harlot was threatening to barge in on The Chronicles of Master Shadow again. Beta was more powerful, more beautiful, and more devoted to her master, so what did that woman think she was doing butting in? I-it was ridiculous!
As Beta internally spews vitriol at that vulgar princess, she responds to the crowd's cheers on autopilot.
When she snatches a glance to the side, she sees, of all things, that tawdry princess trying to push up her shoddy chest to curry favor with the masses.
How sickening.
And besides, those things don't come close to hers in terms of volume. They're totally average.
Thoroughly pleased at herself for emerging victorious yet again, Beta glances down at her voluminous cleavage and lets out a little snort.
Oops. Did Alexia hear that?
Beta turns away to play dumb, which is exactly when a sharp pain shoots through her right foot.
"Ah...?!" She stifles her yelp and looks down to discover Alexia's heel being driven into her foot.
As she strains to keep herself from snapping, Beta calmly addresses her.
"Excuse me, Princess Alexia, but would you please move your foot?"
Alexia stares fixedly at Beta as she removes her heel, feigning that she only just realized what she was doing. Then, without so much as an apology, she even has the nerve to let out a little laugh.
You absolute piece of shiiiit!! Beta is about to scream out loud, but between her devotion to her master and her loyalty to the Shadow Garden, she manages to rein herself in.
Only barely.
A drop of blood trickles from Beta's lip.
Rose just keeps on happily smiling.
\
I gaze out vacantly over the Goddess's Trial from the stands.
It's the middle of the day, so things have only just gotten started. They're still giving speeches, introducing the guests, and marching in the parade. The main event, the actual Trial, isn't slated to start until after sundown.
Currently, 'm just in the bleachers as another face in the crowd. I let out a sigh, looking at the three girls all getting along in the guest box.
I wanna do something.
Specifically, something shadowbrokery. Resigning myself to the role of a normal spectator during an awesome event is killing me.
Like, I should be partaking in that standard trope where I participate in the Trial myself while keeping my identity hidden or something.
You know, the bit where I make some huge display of my powers, and everyone goes, Who is that guy?!
If this were a tournament, that would be sweet. Unfortunately, though, everyone only gets one round here, and after some research, I found out it'd be pretty hard to nab a slot while keeping my identity under wraps. I consider barging in by force, but I figure Pd rather save that for something more important.
As I wrestle with one nonstarter of an idea after another, the event gradually proceeds.
Sometimes that's just how it goes. I couldn't think of a decent plan yesterday, and it's not like I was expecting some convenient stroke of genius to strike me on the spot. And even though it sorta feels like Pm giving up, Ill still be able to enjoy myself in the normie way. This world is short on big events, so I find myself able to have a surprisingly good time. I even manage to gamble my way into a little pocket money.
Eventually, the sun makes its way down, and the main a
ttraction finally starts. A brilliant light fills the grounds, and ancient letters rise up from the ground in the arena.
Then the letters release a dome of white light. The crowd goes wild.
Once the challenger goes into the dome, the Sanctuary picks out an appropriate opponent, and the battle starts. That's it. No one in the wings is able to interfere until one side or the other is unable to continue. Apparently, people have even died.
The whole bit about being forced to fight until one party literally can't anymore makes me reevaluate the merits of playing a background character through this event. There is a real risk that my true strength could be discovered if I enter.
Meanwhile, the first challenger steps into the dome after the introductions. He's some sort of tough guy from the Knight Order.
But the dome offers no response.
The man curses as he leaves the arena.
You can't blame the guy: The entrance fee is one hundred thousand zeni, after all. And apparently, there are over 150 participants this year.
It makes sense in a way. Passing the Goddess's Trial is supposedly a great honor. You get a commemorative medal, and I hear everyone falls all over themselves going, You beat the Goddess's Trial? Wow! Here's a job! to the victor.
As I watch the challengers go up one by one, I find myself wondering just how long it's gonna be until Alpha's turn.
The first ancient warrior who shows up to fight is for lucky challenger number fourteen.
Annerose is a traveler from Velgalta, a country that prizes swordplay, and when she enters the dome, the ancient script reacts and begins glowing. The light coalesces into a humanoid shape—a translucent warrior. According to the commentators, he's Borg, a warrior from ancient times.
The two of them have a fairly ordinary battle, and Annerose secures a fairly ordinary victory. I was pretty pumped up to see what the ancient warriors could do, so I'm bummed at how mundane the fight turns out. Fingers crossed that the next ones will be stronger.
As the event goes on, it dawns on me that I had it wrong. Annerose herself is strong. Eight warriors have been summoned at this point, but she's the only challenger who's won so far. When I
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.
"T 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 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.
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.
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 Pl kill the boy."
Aurora casts a brief glance back at Cid's face. "Okay, Ill 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..."
"Tm good."
Cid steps in front of Aurora.
"So I've been listening, and Pd 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.
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 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 Pd 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.
"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...!!"
"T 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.
"T 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.
"NOO0000000000000000000000!!"
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.
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.
"T 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?"
"Tt would seem that way."
The two of them sit side by side and gaze at the splendor of the
sunrise.
"T was the one who called you there. I'm sorry for lying to you."
"It's all good."
"T lied about other things, too."
"Tt'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."
"T noticed." Alpha squeezes the bridge of her nose. "Were we able to recover the holy sword?"
"Tt 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 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."
"T 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.
"T think we should head back."
"Agreed."
Before Rose and Natsume can get far, though, Alexia calls out to stop them. "Wait."
"What is it?"
"Ts something the matter?"
The two stop and look at her.
"Hey, don't you hate it?"
"What do you mean...?"
"Tm 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..."
"T 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.
"Pm sorry. Did you say something?"
"Oh, nothing."
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. PI try finding out what I can in the Oriana Kingdom."
Next, Natsume lays her hand atop Rose's. "Pll 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.
"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.
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—T 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. "Tl take it."
"Oh my, you will?! In that case—"
"In fact, Pll take every plot along this road."
"—Excuse me?"
"Pm 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.
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.
"T 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 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.
"9m
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 anywhere. I might end up hurting you, so it looks like Pll 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."
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 darkblue 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.
"Pm 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 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 twenty-one 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?
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!
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.
"T 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 comradein-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..."
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?!"
"T 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..."
"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?"
"It HH..."
"Don't tell me you haven't."
T—1—1—1—1—I—1—I—1..."
"That can't possibly be true..."
"J—]—I—I—I—I—l...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 Tl be on the receiving end of his affection... Only me..." Epsilon smiles as she watches Beta flee.
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...