I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

Through the swirling gray mist, the fierce crossfire of sword energy slashed across the air, forming a giant cross of blades, then sweeping back with renewed force. Emerging slowly from the haze was an extraordinarily beautiful girl.

She looked about fifteen or sixteen years old, with an alluring, angelic face that exuded a pitiful charm. Her soft, sakura-pink lips seemed to bloom, and her delicate skin looked as if it could release droplets of water. Her midnight-black pupils glimmered beneath shoulder-length silver hair that shimmered with a faint, moonlit glow as it swayed.

Yet, such an enchanting appearance belonged to none other than a Heretic God. She held something close to her as she darted away with a mischievous grin, her objective already achieved. Against the rebellious strength of a god, mortal barriers were as fragile as paper.

There was nothing that could be done.

Humans had virtually no chance of defeating a god—no matter the method.

The power disparity between humans and gods was so vast that comparing the two was almost meaningless. No matter how refined their skill or talent, as long as they remained human, they were mere leaves in the storm when facing a god.

Only through an extraordinary series of miraculous coincidences could a human even have a chance to defeat a god.

Only then might one slay a Heretic God, gaining a power far beyond mortal limits.

And at that moment, Doni stood at the edge of that possibility.

He now wielded power capable of challenging a god, even if it didn't entirely belong to him.

…

"I am the Dragon!"

With the Holy Sword Ascalon raised high, the red and white robes billowed, rustling fiercely in the wind as his overwhelming aura seized the entire scene. Alarms had pierced the night, their high-pitched beeps ringing out in waves.

But then, as if suddenly stilled, all seemed to fall into silence, leaving only the sound of Paul's heartbeat as he rushed toward the guest quarters. Bearing the title of "Great Knight," he had faced countless encounters on the edge of battle, so he knew exactly what this meant.

Someone had gone all out again.

Turning his head, he caught sight of a pair of blazing, golden, vertical eyes, dazzling as if cast from molten metal.

Roar!!!

Doni had transformed into a dragon and launched himself toward the fleeing Heretic God. He had no certainty of victory, but…well, why worry?

The dragon struck the ground, his elbows and wings turned into supreme blades that sliced through all obstacles in his path.

Compared to the destruction caused by the silver-haired goddess, Doni's havoc across the buildings and barriers was far worse, as though he was the ultimate harbinger of ruin.

He pursued the silver-haired girl as she sped off.

But events never ceased to unfold.

Before this could be resolved, a terrifying storm erupted from the front courtyard of St. Giardino Monastery. A short sword was embedded in the ground, indicating that some unfortunate soul had provoked someone they really shouldn't have and become the latest recipient of their wrath.

Paul and Saint Raffaello hurried over, only to see a frail Godslayer—Liliana—emerging from the shadows.

And…

A… a little girl?

Before they could even question it, one look at the murderous clock-like eyes and the blazing red pupils made both Paul and Saint Raffaello fall silent.

Even if… little Kurumi was surprisingly adorable, even when brimming with murderous intent.

…

[Trickery of the Time God] was indeed a fascinating skill.

It had displayed the elegance and charm of Kurumi's more mature self, blending a stunning allure and a hint of mischief with her usual smirk and scheming nature, giving her an entirely different allure.

More interestingly, though, was the skill's side effect. For every second she spent in her mature form, she would revert to twice as long in her loli form.

Kurumi, now puffed up in a little huff, had her mouth pouting high.

Initially, Kurumi had been holding Liliana's hand, but crossing into the [Netherworld] had turned the tables, with Liliana now holding little Kurumi's hand.

Though she couldn't quite understand what had happened…

Still… it was absolutely adorable.

She'd definitely sworn fealty to the right goddess.

Liliana, emboldened, began rubbing her cheek against Kurumi's.

"So cute…"

"Mew! You're done for, mew!" Little Kurumi said with hands on her hips.

"Just wait till I'm back to normal—I'll pull your tail for this! Just you wait, mew!"

"Huh? Where'd this little carrot come from?"

The lazy voice of a young man sounded behind them.

Doni hadn't managed to catch up to that girl; she was far too quick. When he returned, he saw the little one who had journeyed into the Netherworld holding another little one, both of whom he could only see as short, round figures.

Kurumi froze, and the surrounding temperature seemed to plummet, chilling the air around her.

"Carrot… head??!"

Kurumi turned, her golden clock-like eye glaring at Doni.

"Pfft." Completely oblivious to the danger, Doni let out a laugh.

"Hey, what's with this look? I mean, sure, you're a time-wielding Heretic God, but what's with this 'ancient granny in child form' thing?"

"Gonna laugh your enemies to death?"

…

"Heh…" Kurumi chuckled coldly.

If there was one thing she knew, it was that this fool was dead meat today.

Calculating the time… yeah, it should be about right.

Tick—

A colossal golden clock appeared behind Kurumi, her small head barely reaching the bottom edge of the clock.

Enveloped by shadows of black and red, Kurumi vanished from sight.

She leaped through the air, her foot aimed straight at Doni, and as the cool night breeze brushed by, her figure began to stretch out, transforming from a cute, childlike appearance into a stately, elegant lady.

The innocence faded from her face, replaced by fierce killing intent.

"Whoa, whoa! You're serious!" Doni once again summoned the Holy Sword Ascalon.

Although he acted with exaggerated worry, his face clearly showed his excitement.

In the last fight, Saint George had drained so much of his strength before getting thrashed, leaving Doni dissatisfied with the loss.

"Don't worry, I'll 'pamper' you properly." Kurumi licked the muzzle of her gunblade with a slight smirk.

"Even if I beat you to a pulp…I'll just use 'Zafkiel' to heal you right back…"

"And then…beat you again."

Kurumi's words were terrifying, to say the least.

Meanwhile, back where Kurumi and the two girls had been resting, Erica was searching every inch of the room to determine what had been stolen.

Everything appeared neatly in place, as if untouched.

But she was sure—something had to be missing.

It was impossible for someone to sneak in just to look around.

She had already inspected all the bags and belongings but found nothing unusual.

Erica slumped onto the bed.

What on earth was missing?

Gazing at the slightly askew pillow, it finally dawned on her.

…

That magic grimoire.

—

The stillness of the spring night carried a faint chill.

In the deserted countryside of Tuscany, Doni once more held the slightly broad Holy Sword Ascalon as he faced Kurumi. Although he could have wielded a lance alongside the sword, only with a sword in hand could he truly ignite his spirit.

Doni positioned the sword mid-level across his body, taking a stance that seemed unimpressive, devoid of elegance. Ascalon didn't particularly suit Doni's taste—it was too short; he preferred long, wide, heavy swords, like the magical sword Reinhardt in Saint Raffaello's hands. Unfortunately, Doni knew little of magic, and Reinhardt had already been gifted to that little girl.

Chasing both victory and the thrill of defeat, Doni wielded Ascalon with nearly reckless determination, exuding a courageous spirit—though perhaps that was simply because Doni was a single-minded fool.

Thrust, slash, sweep—the precision of his swordsmanship was nothing short of breathtaking. Ascalon's shorter, broader blade seemed to cleave through Kurumi's body, but Doni dared not relax. Feeling no resistance, he leaped back, knowing immediately it was only a shadow he had sliced.

But Doni's choice to withdraw had placed him in a bad position. Shadows expanded like a rising sun, and out from them stepped Kurumi, lunging with a direct kick aimed at his vital point. Sensing imminent ruin, Doni twisted midair, driving Ascalon into the ground with all his might. Her black leather boot struck the blade's broad side, sending Doni stumbling backward.

Facing the strongest foe he'd encountered, the young swordsman steadied himself, abandoning his skill and focusing instead on a single-minded state of combat.

With neither thought nor fear.

With neither consideration nor worry.

His instinctual swordsmanship blocked each swing of Kurumi's gunblade, fending off her occasional kicks with precise reflexes.

But…

For Kurumi, his single-minded state was hardly a threat.

Her [Mind's Eye (False)] was more than sufficient. Doni was indeed a swordsman of unmatched talent and skill, but the opponent he faced was a goddess outside any bounds of reason.

Bang!

As Kurumi's blade descended in a swing, a single shot rang out from its muzzle, scattering crimson droplets from Doni's right shoulder.

"You…" Doni clutched his shoulder, retreating quickly.

Kurumi didn't pursue; she merely tilted her head, kissing the barrel of her gunblade. Her silhouette against the dark was slender and mesmerizing.

"Ara, an accidental misfire. Don't mind it."

Liar. Doni gripped his bleeding shoulder and began to chant.

"O Lord, grant me Your protection."

He didn't know magic himself, but Saint George certainly did. Was there a single Christian saint who wasn't unbreakable? If he didn't start by giving himself a whole suite of buffs and transformations, that would already be restraint.

Golden holy light glowed from his left hand, and the wound on his shoulder healed in moments.

"Oh?" Kurumi chuckled. "So you can heal yourself. Great, that means I can beat you up a few more times."

Kurumi raised her gunblade, closing one eye as if taking aim.

"Now, now, where should I aim for the next shot~~?"

…

But Doni charged forward without waiting. He raised his voice in incantation:

"What is sin? What is punishment?"

"Let malice and harm wound me; let oppression and tyranny restrain me!"

"I am the protector of the weak! I am the one who defends the sacred!"

"O Lord, let sin and punishment be judged here!"

With his chant, the broad-bladed holy sword vanished from Doni's hand. His dragon-like golden eyes returned to their original state, and once again, a sword appeared—a massive, flaming, red-crossed greatsword.

Legend had it that Saint George, while spreading Christianity, was oppressed by Emperor Diocletian. The emperor imprisoned him in a temple, commanding him to repent, and there, George prayed to his Lord. After that, divine fire descended, burning down the temple.

Divine fire, a raging storm, like judgment itself.

This power was flawlessly rendered by Doni in the form of a sword.

He charged at Kurumi, his movements reminiscent of an intense waltz.

Though, having forsaken all technique, his moves might have looked more like slapstick to an onlooker.

The blazing cross of flame lashed through the air. The young swordsman spun around, his greatsword burning as it slashed upward, a massive fiery cross cutting toward Kurumi.

In a split second, terrifyingly powerful magical energy erupted.

For a brief instant, the energy was unleashed with explosive intensity.

It was as if several high-ranking knights had collaborated on a magic strike they had prepared over a long period.

A volcanic eruption.

The blade tore through the earth, seemingly ready to slice everything in half.

…

No sooner had he unleashed the blow than the battle-worn Doni collapsed.

Such power might be trivial for a full-fledged Saint George, but Doni's body, limited by his mortal frame, simply couldn't handle it. Even with Saint George dwelling within, the strain was too much, forcing him into unconsciousness for his own protection.

Until one truly becomes a Godslayer, there is always a chasm between human and divine.

From within the blazing cross, Kurumi emerged, flicking a petal-shaped gold cartridge from her gun.

"Well now, that was a bit unexpected."

She had no doubt that Doni's last strike could kill a lower-tier Heretic God or perhaps even catch an unsuspecting higher-tier one off guard.

Kurumi glanced at Doni's unconscious form, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face.

"Now this won't do—just passing out like that after talking all that trash?"

"Let me help you out."

Kurumi grinned slyly, draping a chain around Doni's ankle and dragging him along.

"I'll personally see you back."

"Hmm… to make it faster, let's skip the main path, shall we? How about a shortcut?"

Tilting her head with a mischievous smile, she looked down at Doni.

"If you don't say anything~~~I'll just assume you're fine with it."

In the beginning, a forerunner roamed the earth, under a vast sky surrounded by endless seas.

The earth was teeming with flowers, filled with the call of animals, though there was no sign of humanity yet. The forerunner wished to awaken the seeds of life buried in the soil, so he came to a river, its waters clear and softly flowing.

All the animals gathered around him, and he joyfully fashioned small clay figures in his image. But these forms lacked life.

Then, the forerunner took the traits of both good and evil from the animals, and into each clay figure, he poured a portion of these qualities. Thus, they became half-living beings: humans.

…

"Prometheus?" Saint Raffaello asked, confused by Erica's description.

"Indeed… that's the myth recounted in the stolen grimoire."

Erica replied reverently. "If I'm correct, that grimoire is the [Codex of Prometheus]."

Saint Raffaello had saved her life and taught her the Golgotha incantation, gifting her the lion's sword, Reinhardt. Though she was proud and mischievous, she respected her mentor.

"But…" Saint Raffaello frowned thoughtfully.

"To my knowledge, the Codex of Prometheus was left in Japan decades ago, supposedly to seal a local Heretic God."

Erica stared in astonishment.

To think Saint Raffaello knew the whereabouts of other divine grimoires besides the [Book of David's Acclaim].

"Don't look at me like that," sighed the distinguished swordswoman. "Even though I may look young, I'm really just an old lady in her seventies. Over the years, bearing the name of Saint Raffaello, I've seen everything."

"The Codex of Prometheus… I excavated it with a witch in the Caucasus Mountains myself. I was just grateful it didn't end up summoning the Heretic God Prometheus."

"Maybe the forerunner simply cared deeply for his creations."

Erica ignored Saint Raffaello's grumbling. Skilled in social nuances, she knew better than to respond directly. Engaging Saint Raffaello on such points would likely lead to a painful outcome.

"Then that grimoire…"

"It was probably the [Odes of Pindar]." Liliana suddenly chimed in, lost in thought.

"Among the gods, Prometheus had friends. She watched him from Mount Osiris as he created humanity."

"When she saw him at a loss before his creation, she descended from Mount Osiris and blew the breath of life into them, granting intelligence and wisdom."

"That's the other half of the story recorded in the grimoire."

"Prometheus's friend…"

The knights fell silent. That was an overwhelmingly heavy name.

The older a Heretic God's myth, the higher their rank, making them exponentially more challenging to face.

And this particular one…

One of the oldest goddesses, revered as an Olympian, among the twelve main gods of Greek mythology.

Goddess of the Arts…

Goddess of Weaving…

Goddess of Justice…

Goddess of War…

And so much more…

In the hymns of the Mysteries, she was praised as the Goddess of Wisdom, and on the Mycenaean tablets, she is referred to as a powerful goddess, the Potnia of Athana.

The maiden by Lake Tritonis.

—Athena (Ἀθηνά).

If it was truly her, that would be a serious problem. Paul turned toward Liliana.

"Lady Liliana… are you prepared to face such an ancient goddess?"

"Why ask me, Uncle Paul?" Despite being the sixth known Godslayer and first of the century, Liliana remained humble.

Given time, Erica might even start pulling her usual pranks again.

"I am only a miko in service to Lady Kurumi."

Liliana replied and gracefully stood.

"Lady Kurumi has returned."

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