"This parting gift really doesn't make me happy at all."
Roman's face contorted with pain as his eyebrows and nose almost twisted together. He grimaced and cried out in agony.
If it had been King Solomon, he would have endured the meaningless pain without a flicker of emotion. But the person here was no longer King Solomon—it was Roman, who had become human. As an ordinary man, he nearly fainted at the sight of himself being stabbed.
Roman slumped to the ground, gasping for air. His body radiated faint starlight, a clear sign that the Heretic God was nearing his end.
"Ah, so it's finally over. Our agreement is fulfilled."
Despite the pain, he mustered a smile. Sitting atop the hill with his hands resting on his knees, he let the blood from his chest flow freely, gazing at the distant ancient city of Jerusalem, now bathed in the final rays of sunset.
"My friend Roy Crowley, I cannot see your future, but I know it will be a life filled with great trials and triumphs, a journey of walking thin ice over an abyss. Your parting gift isn't making me happy at all, but despite that, I'll leave a parting gift for my first friend. I hope it will help you.
"...In the drawer of the desk I used in the hotel room, you'll find a spell I left for you. I trust it will be useful. As for the authority of the Heretic God that I'll leave behind upon my death—I think you'll find it satisfactory. But you may have to pay a certain price for it."
Roman smiled brightly, as if he had finally managed to prank Roy one last time.
His body grew increasingly ethereal, and the shimmering starlight surrounding him faded away.
"Beware of the King of The End and the Goddess of Fate behind him. This is the last advice I can give you as a friend. I'm glad I never gave up the Wisdom and Power of Solomon. While I didn't care about these things personally, they've proven useful for helping a friend. Whether it's 'wisdom' or 'power,' they've finally been put to good use.
"…If we meet again someday, can I have strawberry cake again?"
The man's smile, innocent like a child, gentle yet bittersweet, now lingered as a fading shadow.
"If we meet again, I'll treat you to all the strawberry cake you want."
Hearing Roy's final answer, Roman smiled with pure contentment and disappeared from this world, leaving nothing behind.
The starlight floated upwards like fireflies, the sunset on the horizon sank completely, and darkness enveloped the land. Roman left this world that was not his, returning to the place he was destined to be.
"Goodbye, Romani Archaman. Goodbye, King Solomon."
Roy whispered softly.
He was not an emotionless monster. As his friend departed, sorrow welled up in his heart, leaving him with a suffocating sense of melancholy and an overwhelming urge to vent.
King Solomon had known of the world's many misfortunes but chose only to observe, smiling indifferently.
Romani Archaman knew those same misfortunes, yet he strived to turn misfortune into happiness. Even though his abilities were limited and his outlook tinged with melancholy, he dedicated himself to this cause without hesitation.
One waited passively for everything to end, while the other acted with hope, working toward a brighter tomorrow. Their approaches were vastly different, yet they were two sides of the same coin.
Roy found himself plunged into darkness once more.
The darkness came and went in an instant. As Roy regained his awareness, he was greeted by the sight of a slender, fair-skinned goddess with the appearance of a 13 or 14-year-old girl. Her sweet smile radiated affection. It was none other than Roy's "Mother", Pandora.
"Little Roy regained consciousness so quickly this time. I can't even give you a hug or take a good look at your handsome and adorable face."
Pandora, without a hint of divine dignity, skipped toward Roy with a playful demeanor. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and her purple twin ponytails bobbed with every step, making her seem more like a mischievous child than a goddess.
"I've been here so many times. If I still stayed unconscious as long as I did the first time, wouldn't it mean I've made no progress at all?"
Just like in Terror Infinity, where the time of unconsciousness after teleportation shortens as power grows, so too did Roy's familiarity with this mysterious realm. The Boundary of Life and Immortality that belonged to Pandora could no longer restrain his consciousness as it once did. (T/N: I am not too sure about this reference, I would be grateful if someone confirms it)
Roy's tone carried a trace of emotion, the weight of his friend's departure still hanging heavily on him.
"Little Roy, you're truly incredible! You made friends with a Heretic God, convinced him to take his own life, and let you claim the kill. Among all the Campione in history, you're completely unique~"
Pandora clasped her hands in front of her chest, her eyes sparkling as if filled with admiration for him. She looked even more like an overexcited child.
But Roy could only sigh internally—Pandora truly had no sense of tact. Couldn't she tell he wasn't in the mood? She always managed to touch the sorest topics at the worst times.
However, from Pandora's words, Roy gleaned an important insight: she did not realize that King Solomon came from another world.
In the world of Campione, gods were shaped by humanity's myths and legends. Before manifesting as Heretic Gods, they did not truly "exist." They were born out of human imagination, shaped by the belief and faith systems of their respective mythologies.
Thus, there was no real Age of Gods in this world, and gods were never truly entities. As long as no Heretic God called King Solomon had ever appeared before, no one would know what the real King Solomon was actually like.
Taking a deep breath, Roy suddenly stepped forward. To Pandora's surprise, he grabbed her delicate chin with one hand, bent down, and pressed his lips to hers in a bold motion. At the same time, he muttered irritably, "…Enough. Let's just get on with the god-killing ritual already!"
Ever since Roy discovered that Pandora's ritual was not her creation but a technique borrowed from some divine tool, he had stopped being cautious around her. Knowing she wasn't as terrifying as he had once imagined and that she wasn't some scheming mastermind, Roy's actions and words toward his "Mother" grew increasingly daring—and even aggressive.
"W-wait, hold on! Don't be so forceful… mmph!" (T/N: Very Greek of him)
Under Roy's relentless assault, Pandora found herself breathless. She tried to push him away, but despite being a Heretic God, she wasn't built for physical strength. When her struggles proved futile and her snow-white wrists were caught by Roy, she could only sigh in resignation and initiate the god-killing ritual.
Roy could faintly hear the sound of a heavenly mechanism turning, followed by a familiar sensation. He knew this was the process of using a god's life force as material to usurp their authority.
…
In a daze, Roy's consciousness returned to the real world. He looked down at his clenched fists, his expression tinged with hesitation.
"…So, this is the parting gift you left me, Roman? This 'gift' is significant... but it seems I'll truly need to pay a price for it."