I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

Amid Athena's terrified gaze, Kurumi's right hand pressed slightly downward, brushing her lips.

Then, Kurumi's hand continued its downward course, her mischievous smile growing wider.

"Ara, Ara... seems you're just like Liliana—a little substitute."

Completely flat as a board.

Athena's skin was a smooth, creamy white, so soft and tender, without any hint of tension.

Liliana could only feel like an arrow had struck her knee as she crouched down, mumbling softly to herself while tracing small circles with her finger on the ground.

Originally, she'd had so much potential... but, alas, she'd encountered Kurumi, acquired Nuada's Authority, and became a Godslayer. Her chance of potential was effectively crushed before it ever surfaced.

At this moment, only Erica could proudly puff up her little bamboo-shoot chest.

Erica vs. Liliana—Liliana was thoroughly defeated.

"Th-that's... not true!" Athena's cheeks were puffed out, her expression stubborn and embarrassed. It was only because she'd been wounded that she now appeared as this little girl.

Once her strength was restored and she reclaimed her "Aegis," she'd regain her elegant, mature form.

"Oh really~~not true in what way?" Kurumi tilted Athena's face toward her, leaning in close enough for her hot, fragrant breath to fan across Athena's cheeks.

Athena, after all, was renowned as one of the few pure goddesses.

Kurumi's hand, gliding along her body's curves, had reached its final destination, her very touch making the little goddess tremble.

Kurumi seized hold of Athena's slender waist.

"Still refusing to talk~~?"

Kurumi lifted the hem of the delicate gown, unveiling her small, delicate frame. The sheer layers of gauzy fabric left Athena's graceful, trembling legs faintly visible.

Though petite in stature, Athena was still the famously beautiful goddess.

"You know, I've heard that beneath those Ionic chitons~~ there's nothing under the bandeau," she murmured, close to her ear. "A pure girl like you would let her husband untie it on their wedding night. Isn't that right?"

Her delicate fingers traced down Athena's spine, reaching her bandeau, tugging it gently and letting it snap back.

Snap—

A trick Kurumi had once pulled as a student to mess with others.

Athena looked as though she was on the verge of tears.

Yet this was hardly the end of it, as Kurumi tugged the dress's skirt hem, lifting it slowly, inch by inch.

Her slim calves became visible.

"Hey~~"

"Don't worry, even though we're surrounded by people right now~~"

"They won't be able to see you at all~~"

...

"Lady Kurumi..." Liliana tugged at Kurumi's sleeve, trying to stop her.

"Hm...?"

"Mmm..." Athena whimpered, sounding like a small, bullied animal.

"I'm sorry! I was wrong!"

—

On the banks of the Tiber River, the girls gathered at a quaint café.

Erica clapped her hands, holding them before her lips in a half-cupped gesture that made Kurumi take notice of the noblewoman's momentary poise and bearing.

"Waiter, we're ready to order."

The Tiber River flowed gently by, its waters catching flecks of golden sunlight that danced like countless tiny scales.

Kurumi sat properly, stirring the silver spoon in her hand, listening as Athena poured out her grievances.

Meanwhile, Erica and Liliana watched Kurumi's flawless face, each harboring a peculiar unease. Sensitive to such things, the young witches felt a strange void creeping into their hearts.

It was like they were on the brink of losing something precious.

After confirming that this terrifying Spirit wasn't angry over the theft of the contract, merely curious about the events of that early morning, Athena began to complain freely.

"That cunning elf!" Athena's complaint was sharp, though she caught herself as Kurumi's eyebrows arched.

"Lady Kurumi is also an elf," Liliana gently reminded the little goddess.

Athena looked confusedly at Kurumi's ears, then hesitated, pressing down on her skirt as she timidly clarified.

"I meant that elf called Fëanor."

"Fëanor?" Kurumi paused, her thoughts halting for a moment.

"What is it..." Athena looked flustered.

"No, nothing, go on," Kurumi murmured, sipping her coffee, the rich, dark flavor softened by the generous sugar typical of Italian coffee.

The name didn't surprise her at all.

If Vanyar had appeared, it was only a matter of time until Fëanor did too.

Fëanor.

The "Spirit of Fire."

The second High King of the Noldor elves, maker of the Silmarils and Seeing Stones, one of the most celebrated sages of ancient legend.

Though... maybe a bit rash.

His accomplishments were undeniable, and so were his crimes, such that even in death he remained bound by Mandos, god of the afterlife, until the world's end.

Athena's cheeks puffed up as she bit into her meticulously prepared sandwich, looking like a chipmunk—so cute, Kurumi had the urge to poke her.

Athena swallowed with difficulty before continuing her complaints.

"I thought he was an archer or a mage..."

Kurumi almost choked on her laughter.

An... archer?

Think about the legendary Gandalf as a swordsman—would anyone expect a proper archer or mage in that world?

How do archers build their skill trees, anyway? Asking for advice—urgent.

—Pump points into Vitality and Endurance.

Skills: Single-handed Sword, Two-handed Sword, Dodging, Blocking, Critical Strike, Charge, Whirlwind Slash, Decapitation, Armor Breaking, all maxed.

Just invest one point in Archery for Precise Shot.

More or less the image.

Kurumi had already guessed how Athena ended up on the losing side of that encounter.

As expected, her hunch was spot on.

But from the little goddess, Kurumi managed to extract two more pieces of information.

First, that Fëanor was indeed after her, without a doubt. Like Vanyar, they didn't belong to this world's structure at all. For the people of this world, their existence was akin to divine intervention.

Secondly, Fëanor didn't have the Silmarils yet, which was a small relief.

However, compared to facing Vanya—a girl only granted her title—dealing with the one hailed as the High King, Fëanor...

Lauded as "the most outstanding of all Ilúvatar's children in body, mind, courage, endurance, beauty, understanding, skill, and strength, and finesse"—

Fëanor would undoubtedly be far more challenging.

But... it's not a big problem.

...

In the end.

The havoc wreaked in Naples was, unsurprisingly, entirely Athena's doing. Kurumi, a bit helpless, lightly patted Athena's head.

After all, with Godslayers and Heretic Gods like them, chaos and destruction were inevitable wherever they went. Calamity—whether from the sea or elsewhere—had practically become part of the script by now.

...

As time shifted forward, Kurumi finally came to a decision.

Under the watchful, somewhat anxious gazes of the other girls, Kurumi took brisk steps toward the southwest.

That fight was inevitable, an inescapable fate leading to a clash destined to unfold.

—

The powerful wind roared at their feet.

Feanor gazed at the girl before him, so beautiful and radiant.

Her small face was delicate, as fragile as a soft petal, yet her cold, gold clock eye was emotionless. Her crimson gaze held a hint of confusion, like a jewel dimmed by dust yet still enticingly exquisite.

Feanor was proud and brilliant, someone who didn't easily afford his respect to just anyone.

But this girl clearly possessed that rare quality. Though he despised the gods, he could not deny that this time, Eru Ilúvatar's judgment was impressively discerning.

Golden bullets flew from her gun's barrel, so close now due to Feanor's forward charge.

He wanted to slice that bullet apart with his sword.

But a fierce warning rang out in his mind…

He must absolutely—absolutely avoid contact with that bullet.

With a swift and unnatural shift, Feanor stopped his advance, raised his longsword, and twisted sharply.

A ring of shockwaves spread outward, kicking up clouds of dust.

The milky-white ripples of energy met a problem when they encountered the bullet. The bullet's high-speed rotation clashed against the shockwave, making a harsh, ghostly noise.

Sharp, tearing sounds filled the air…

A deep, reverberating hum…

Finally, the shockwave broke apart, and the bullet ripped through the white ripples, piercing forward.

But Feanor was already gone from that spot.

…

Kurumi was upon him, leaning in close as her arms crossed, both pistols firing an explosive, suppressive web of fire.

—Moving Shot.

These special explosive bullets could tear apart anything in her path, but they weren't imbued with the time-manipulating power of Zafkiel.

In other words, the threat they posed was not as high.

A distinct floral aroma emanated from her, a curious blend of lotus and rose, tinged with a hint of bitter sorrow.

Feanor saw a multitude of things in her. As one of the wisest sages of the Two Trees of Valinor, he was blessed with sight that stretched toward the future.

The allure of the Vanyar Elves…

The power of the Noldor, his own strength, as it were…

The fearless resolve of a queen…

The glow of gods…

The grace of a Prime Being…

And there, from the highest heavens, the sweeping majesty of a great hawk surveying all below…

It was difficult to fathom how she'd attracted so many forms of extraordinary favor. It was as if she were a child of the world itself.

And yet, what shone brightest was that golden clock.

Feanor raised his left arm before him as if gripping an invisible shield. Silver rings of light rippled from his arm, forming a dense, elongated white aura that guarded him as he stepped resolutely through her torrent of explosive bullets.

Kurumi advanced toward Feanor as well, unafraid of this formidable Elven lord.

Her flintlock pistol and short musket echoed her energy, resonating with the other accessories she wore.

Just like a very long time ago… when Slacker-Kurumi had done the same in Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress.

…

"I am the Lord of the Dark Heavens."

A piercing eagle's cry filled the air as Kurumi transformed herself into a sharp, black-red spear, hurtling toward Feanor.

The earth cracked beneath her, concrete lifting like paper, tearing away and fluttering skyward.

In the whirlwind of motion, her raven-black hair and dark-red skirt edges spun like wings, the smile on her cherry-petal lips dangerous and dazzling.

The sheer force of her approach crashed down on Feanor like a battering ram.

He plunged his sword deep into the ground, orange light flashing horizontally to create a vast rift that cleaved open the ground.

The rift shot upward, casting an orange barrier before Feanor, forming a solid protective wall.

Feanor was a mage, an archer, a swordsman, a craftsman of gemstones, and at times, a sovereign.

The ocean cliffs were torn asunder.

Crunch—crunch—

The strange, black rock formations fractured, crumbling into the murky sea below.

Swish—

Through the sound of chains intertwining and the gleaming gold-red blade of a gun, Kurumi sliced through the barrier, her graceful figure charging at Feanor.

Unyielding, Feanor swung his blazing longsword in response, meeting her head-on.

As they clashed, the skies wept, and the sea groaned, their blows tearing apart the land and leaving utter devastation in their wake.

Nearby cars, regardless of make or model, had their windows shattered and were left only to emit "whirr-whirr-whirr" as their alarms blared—a somber requiem to this "Day of Wrath."

Huge, gray flakes drifted down from the sky, resembling paper scraps.

This was the spectacle born from the eruption of Mount Vesuvius triggered in Athena and Feanor's confrontation.

Even until dusk, a thick cloud of gray and black dust covered the skies above the Vesuvius area, spreading dark clouds for miles.

This was far beyond any existing technology's ability to remedy. Likely, only a large-scale ritual led by Eastern European sorcerers would be able to subdue it.

Of course, summoning a Campione would be even better.

Gray "snowflakes" swirled in the air as Feanor and Kurumi clashed hundreds of times.

The crimson cloak on Feanor's back had been shredded to ribbons by countless strikes, now hanging in tattered strips.

But Kurumi, graceful as ever, appeared completely unscathed. That was the absurdity of time manipulation.

Any injury, she could undo with a shot from her "Fourth Bullet," and her "First Bullet" kept her mobility at its peak.

From a distance, their clash could be seen as countless twisting, dragon-like whirlwinds spiraling upward, connecting to the thickening black clouds in the sky above.

The black clouds weren't the usual, foreboding storm clouds, laden with thunder and lightning. These were the dense ash clouds rolling over from Mount Vesuvius.

The thin, dragon-like whirlwinds spiraled upward, mostly stark white in color. Occasionally, they'd lift up seawater, adding a heavy, murky shade, sometimes glowing a silvery-blue, and at other times igniting as though aflame.

Such a grand and surreal scene was impossible to ignore.

Stationed at the Grosseto Air Force Base between Rome and Florence, the young men of the 9th Squadron had already boarded their beloved aircraft, ready to take off.

The steel beasts quivered as their wings trembled, roaring as they ascended to the sky. In a swift, sharp vibration, they broke the sound barrier, leaving only fleeting silhouettes in their wake, like swallows darting through the sky.

A small squadron of fighter jets formed a wedge formation, climbing steadily.

But then, a sudden return order came from the ground control tower.

—A higher-level response agency had intervened.

The jets flipped and returned.

On the long, winding road from Rome to Naples, a black, specially modified BMW let out a deep roar as it raced towards Naples at full speed.

With no obstacles in its path, soldiers parked along the roadside whistled at the BMW and promptly removed their anti-tank spikes to clear the way.

Setting down his magenta-colored cellphone, Paolo turned to Arianna with a slightly shaky voice.

"Anna… it's not like we need to rush this much…" He was already beginning to regret his previous decision.

"Huh?! But wasn't it you, Sir Paolo, who said the faster, the better?" Arianna looked confused, but she gave the gas another heavy press.

The young maid offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry! I'm still not entirely used to automatic and manual transmissions."

Kurumi again launched herself at Feanor, her gunblade hanging casually in her hand yet radiating an icy gleam that could not be ignored.

The area around the Bay of Salerno where they fought had suffered extreme damage.

Of course, Kurumi claimed no responsibility for this, casting off the blame. Aside from her spatial quakes, she didn't have any disaster-level abilities, so nearly all of the damage to the ravaged landscape came from the king in front of her.

Clang—

A round shield, coiled with serpentine strands, blocked Kurumi's advance. It was Athena's shield.

Feanor had 'borrowed' this power from Athena through the book symbolizing their alliance.

This "Pindar's Poetry" had the power to steal the authority of Prometheus or even Athena herself. If not for this covenantal book, Athena would never have been defeated so soundly.

The pair of dark, resentful eyes on the shield seemed ready to engulf everything into its darkness.

Stone… stone… stone… stone…

Anything caught within that malevolent gaze began to gradually turn to stone.

The ground beneath them turned to stone, the grass shredded into oblivion transformed into cold rock.

Vehicles with shattered glass similarly turned to stone.

Kurumi swiftly downed an elixir that could dispel any abnormal status effects.

But Feanor only needed a momentary distraction from Kurumi.

The noble elven king, with flames burning in his heart, raised his sacred sword, carrying the resolve to cut through everything in his path.

He'd delayed long enough—it was time to conclude this fight with a grand finale.

The wind began to swirl around them, not like the narrow tendrils of a tornado reaching skyward, but as a cooling breeze.

Then… the wind grew fiercer, whipping the air around them until it felt as if it might sweep them both away.

In the span of a heartbeat, it intensified into a howling tempest.

The smaller tornadoes connecting earth to sky coalesced, forming a massive, roaring black-gray vortex behind Feanor.

His sword pointed to the heavens, and Kurumi had a foreboding sense that if that sword descended, Italy's "boot" would indeed be severed.

"Aleph—First Bullet."

The short pistol pressed under Kurumi's smooth chin as she tilted her head back.

Feanor did not pay it much heed, as Kurumi had used this tactic countless times.

In an instant, he released a surge of mana that formed a sphere around him, repelling everything nearby.

If Kurumi couldn't even get close, then her time-acceleration wouldn't do her much good.

Besides, his magic was now ready.

Click—

The black and red world filtered to its most extreme hues.

"Well, well, well… looks like it's time to save the world again."

Kurumi chuckled softly, her heavy black boots clicking crisply on the now-stone ground beneath her.

Feanor held his stance, steadily lowering his sword. After all, "First Bullet" only accelerated time for the target; it didn't truly stop time.

Kurumi pondered her strategy as she approached Feanor.

The solid mana barrier seemed troublesome, yet also straightforward to deal with.

Kurumi reached into her pack and took out a vial of green liquid—"Mana Solvent."

Its purpose and use were precisely as the name implied… simply throw the solvent right at it.

When time resumed, Feanor saw the charming girl already before him.

"Well, hello there~" Kurumi greeted Feanor with a sly smile.

Meanwhile, Paolo and the others were still en route.

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