And The God (1)

“Kyaaaack!! Cough cough! Cough! Gasp…”

“Ugh, noisy. It’s so noisy I can’t read my book.”

Aetas scowls as she looks over the books and papers she dug up from every corner of Caelum’s castle.

Is she annoyed because it’s noisy? Or because of reading books? Aetas’s next actions will clear that up.

“Damn, I can’t make heads or tails of this. Spatium.”

The moment Aetas calls Spatium, Spatium appears in the space where she and Caelum were.

Spatium immediately starts grumbling.

“Why do you keep calling me?”

“This… I really can’t figure it out.”

Aetas, shoving the mountain of documents at her, doesn’t look apologetic at all—she’s smiling brightly.

Spatium sighs and quickly begins to review the documents Aetas hands over.

“Hmm… hmm… oh?”

Spatium’s hand, which had been flipping through so fast it was hard to tell whether she was reading, comes to a stop.

“An unexpected person is caught in here?”

“Huh? What? Something already showed up?”

“Yeah. But if I tell you, you’ll probably go and capture them first, so I’ll look into it a bit.”

“What?! That’s…”

Just as Aetas is about to burst out furious, the presence of a high-ranking god is suddenly felt, and the two goddesses turn their heads.

The presence is felt at the castle gate. One is Genesis, and the other is a completely unexpected presence.

“Long time no see, Aetas, Spatium.”

“Who is that? Isn’t that Manus?”

At the polite greeting from the man, Aetas raises a hand and calls out cheerfully.

But Spatium moves divine power to seal the space around Caelum. Not only that, she sets up a barrier around Caelum without saying a word.

“Spatium?”

“What’s the matter, Manus?”

Spatium, not answering Aetas’s puzzled call, looks straight at Manus and asks.

“Hmm… I just found out. I happened to learn that Caelum manifested in Exorsus this time. My representative was there as well.”

“One: so?”

“…Yes?”

“Your representative was there. You knew about Caelum’s manifestation. So?”

“I just came by to pay my respects. Spatium, why are you acting like this…?”

“Hmm… two: Mors.”

Spatium stops speaking with Manus and, abruptly, calls Mors.

As when Spatium first appeared, Mors is about to get snippy but senses the tense atmosphere and quietly takes a place to one side.

“Genesis surely stopped you at the front, didn’t he? Tell us why you persuaded Genesis and came in anyway.”

“I was concerned about Caelum, who is from the same representative line, and I said I could persuade him.”

“Hmm… three: Mors, subdue him. Summon illusory barrier. Infinite space.”

Mors doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, but in battles with the four of them together, Spatium is always right.

And it wasn’t only Mors’s thought. Aetas steps in front of Caelum, and Genesis summons ‘Eternity’ and holds it in both hands.

“You lied three times. Once when you said you happened to learn Caelum manifested; twice when you said you came to pay respects; three times when you said you were worried about Caelum. If you want to say that’s not true, step forward and say it.”

Mors places her scythe at Manus’s throat and pushes forward. But Manus doesn’t flinch—the sacred sigil of oath emits light just one step ahead.

“This is embarrassing. Why are you suddenly doing this to me?”

Manus remains calm and composed throughout. Spatium is the same.

No—except for Caelum, all the gods gathered here are at ease. Their usual scolding and snapping at Kim Han almost seemed like an act.

“So take one step forward. Or move it?”

“…Ugh. Understood.”

As Manus plants both feet fully on the ‘Oath’s Sacred Sigil’, a question slips from Spatium’s mouth.

“Manus, why did you pull out ‘Witch’?”

“What?!”

“Really?”

“…It was you?”

The two goddesses are surprised, and Genesis growls and snaps.

But Manus is composed, almost curious. She asks Spatium in return.

“How did you know?”

“Just. I looked into various things and checked these documents, so I figured it out. Crucially, I knew the moment you came here. Now I’d like to hear your reason.”

“I was simply curious. Aren’t gods all like that? They satisfy their curiosity; for amusement, they don’t care how many mortals die. Ha ha.”

Her laugh is grotesque and dry—twisted. She laughs aloud but there’s no emotion in it, like she’s reading text aloud.

“You… what are you?”

“I am Manus. Manus made of countless Manus. Ha ha ha.”

Sensing Manus’s odd state, Spatium pulls a golden rope from their robe.

“Tch. You’d better surrender peacefully.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

“So you’re going to fight back?”

“No, how could I face the four of you? I couldn’t handle any one of you. Instead, I can run away.”

What Manus lets loose is a black something. It hangs in the air, neither spreading nor flowing—just a mass.

Genesis’s face turns to horror when she recognizes it.

“Mors, annihilate!!”

“Tch! Bloody busy. Return to the start.”

Mors’s scythe gleams jet-black for a moment as she swings and slices through the black mass.

Where Mors’s scythe passed, the black lump vanishes with a whoosh like a candle flame being snuffed.

Mors exhales briefly and looks at Genesis, asking.

“But why all the fuss about it?”

“Melun.”

“I see. Wi… what?”

“How did you get Witch…”

Spatium just keeps looking at Manus, as if unconcerned by their surprise.

Aetas is the same—she continues to stand before Caelum to prevent Manus from doing anything foolish.

“You can’t run. You don’t actually think that’s a manifestation and feel safe, do you? Then I’ll tell you it’s a mistake.”

“No. I am—and I already fled. Well then, I’ll see you later.”

With those words, Manus collapses with a thud. Like a puppet with cut strings, she falls to the floor and her body slowly disintegrates.

“This is…?”

Manus’s form is exactly like a god being annihilated at death.

But when you strike a manifestation, it doesn’t vanish like a mirage nor scatter into beautiful, glittering particles like Manus’s current form.

“What happened?”

“Manus has disappeared. This isn’t annihilation; it’s an illusion. But we can’t find her anywhere.”

“You can’t find her? You—the god of space?”

“Yeah…”

After calming his startled heart and smoothing his face to compose his expression, he asks Merus in a reproachful tone.

“Why?”

“From my judgment, among the representatives participating in the Battlefield of the Gods, Kim Han’s lack of effort is overwhelmingly outstanding right now. Also, the members of Kim Han’s legion are capable. So of course they’d want to get into such a place, wouldn’t they?”

With the talent called ‘Observation’, he could grasp some of the opponent’s information.

He couldn’t express it numerically like a confirmation, but similar powers or talents often exist.

Such talents or powers can represent an opponent’s strength with colors or parameters, or let you intuitively perceive it.

Merus’s talent, ‘Observation’, is one such ability.

“Is that so? Then it’s even more baffling. We’re barely a handful. Considering power, shouldn’t we have gone west or east?”

At my words, Merus smiles the smile I personally dislike most.

It’s the kind of smirk people who pride themselves on being clever wear, as if saying ‘I knew it all along’ or ‘I knew you’d come to this.’

“They don’t have Kim Han, do they?”

“Huh?”

“The leader of the western group is strong—so strong it’s hard to believe she’s a woman. But by my standards, she’s far lacking. She shouldn’t lead a group. A sharp blade should lead and cut off the enemy’s head; she’s doing the foolish thing of directing the group from behind.”

“…”

“The eastern group’s leader is worse. In short, an idiot. They can be crafty and scheming, but that’s all. They lack the vision to see the whole picture and are perfect for being used. They haven’t noticed they’re being led by someone’s scheme. They probably won’t know until they die.”

It stung, but fortunately his complexion didn’t change nor did his body move—thanks to the warning given by Argus’s Eye.

“Is that so? Thanks for the flattering view. I’m also one of the representatives not much different—so why me?”

“Ha ha. Didn’t you defeat me? With logic, with rhetoric. That’s more than enough. You relentlessly pressed the irritable me. Your might is unparalleled and your insight is enough to overwhelm me—by my standards you overflow. Ha ha.”

Damn. As expected. I get the feeling I shouldn’t have stirred this up, and resolve once more to avoid arguing with such types.

I was happy a moment ago for winning, but now it feels like I lost.

“Fine. Let’s say I’m the perfect representative: completely strong and brilliant, as you say.”

“It’s not about pretending…”

“Then! Why should I—no, why should we accept you?”

“Ah…!”

Was the question unexpected? Or was he thinking something else? His expression is odd.

It isn’t an annoyed look. It’s almost like the joy of finding something lost.

“Ah! I’ve been thinking about this wrong until now.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I focused on Kim Han’s strengths as strength, but now I see his greatest strengths: doubt and trust.”

This is why talking with smartasses gives me a headache. What nonsense. Can’t you just say it clearly in one long explanation?

“You doubt enemies endlessly and trust allies endlessly. You clearly recognized my excellence, yet you antagonize me while calling the legion ‘we’ instead of ‘I’. It’s the image of an ideal ruler.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Ha ha. Yes, that aside—ah! To answer Kim Han’s earlier question, it’s because it benefits Kim Han and the Rebound legion.”

I’m not accepting that—no! Argh!! Annoying and infuriating. A lizardman smarter than people! Damn!!

He’s certainly going to be helpful. With such great potential and so many excellent mentors here, he’d grow even faster.

In his previous life he was the one who alone opposed the Violentia faction.

Of course, that ‘opposition’ was more like a game of tag than a battle.

“Sigh… fine. Putting everything aside, be honest. Why us?”

“I’ve been honest all along, you know? I mean it.”

Merus’s eyes sparkle brightly.

I had to clench my fist so hard it felt like it might crush, to stop myself from punching that smug face of his.

“Do you know the conditions to join our legion?”

“I don’t.”

“First, you have to sign a contract. Have you heard of the Covenant Contract?”

“Ah, I know it. Isn’t it the highest-grade contract a representative can use in the Battlefield of the Gods?”

“Right. It includes clauses to never betray and not to leave the legion. However, there’s a provision that you can withdraw if you forfeit—i.e., surrender—in the Battlefield of the Gods.”

Merus, surprised that a contract is required, briefly thinks it over then nods cheerfully.

“And you must tell me who your patron god is.”

“Ah… is that so?”

“Lastly, there’s another condition—I’ll tell you when you reach the fifth year. Will you join even so?”

Only the sound of Merus tapping the desk echoes through the audience chamber. Is he deep in thought?

After a long hesitation, Merus raises his head, his eyes sparkling again, and speaks.

“I’ve thought about it. Ah, I wasn’t debating whether to join—I will, of course. Are you imposing these conditions for a purpose other than winning?”

“Who is your patron god?”

When I answer Merus’s question with a question, the lizardman smiles broadly.

As the conversation goes on, Merus seems so pleased that he even sheds his robe; his lizardman face softens into a clear smile.

“The god of wisdom and foresight, Sophia.”

“…Damn. You don’t mean that ancient god called the Creator’s Archivist, do you?”

“Oh? You know them? Yes, that’s the one.”

“Bloody hell!”

This bastard is hopeless.

I shake my head and suddenly feel like grabbing the Creator by the scruff for continuously putting me through tests like this.