“You would take up arms against us?”
“I’m not trying to fight you! It’s just... when Mestionora used my body before, it cost me so many of my most precious memories. Even now, they haven’t returned. I don’t want to lose anything else that matters to me.” I wouldn’t have minded dyeing the foundation temporarily—despite the problems Eglantine and Ahrensbach would face—but I absolutely refused to lend my body to the goddess.
“Your only concern is your memories? Then I shall call upon the aid of the other gods.”
“Hm? How can they—?”
“Thou hast my blessings,” Erwaermen said, waving a hand. “Receive this power to supply the foundation.” Light beams of various colors descended on me all at once, and the divine power of their elements coursed through me, clashing with Mestionora’s influence.
“Eek!”
Goose bumps spread from my arms to the rest of my body. This clash of mana made my stomach churn; it felt like tendrils too slender to be seen were wriggling their way into the pores of my skin. It was unlike any blessing I’d ever received—rather than working together, the gods’ divine power fought for dominance inside of me.
I was racked with pain as the mana inside me continued to rebound. Parts of me felt hundreds of small twinges like they had electricity coursing through them. Other parts were throbbing and numb. So intense was the agony in some areas that I genuinely wondered if my bones had snapped. My head, neck, back, stomach, arms, legs—everything hurt, and it was all I could do to stop from crying out.
“Now go forth and dye the foundation,” Erwaermen said. “Myne?”
The pain was too much. I crumpled to the ground and screamed, “I-It hurts! I can’t! AAAGGGHHH!”
I couldn’t even sit. Mestionora had dyed my mana while I was unconscious, inadvertently sparing me the torment, but now several gods were fighting for control. They all pushed against each other in their battle to establish dominance. Unlike the Devouring heat, I couldn’t control this foreign mana; I could only curl up and scream as my body was torn apart from the inside.
“Hmm... The gods did not expect this...” Erwaermen muttered, looking up at the sky. “They seem to be in quite a panic. Mestionora wishes to descend and restore order to the divine power of the gods inside you. Can you remove those ornaments from your arms?”
“NGHHH! AAAGGGH!”
I desperately shook my head. Even sitting was beyond me; how could anyone expect me to roll up my sleeves and start messing around with intricate charms?
Erwaermen crouched down and reached out to me, but I was too far away. Even in his human form, he wasn’t able to move from his spot.
Then what’s the point of transforming in the first place?! How stupid can you be?!
“Hmm... This is troubling.”
Though tears blurred my vision, I saw Erwaermen stand up again. I couldn’t tell whether he really was concerned—his voice betrayed not a trace of emotion—but he was definitely looking for something.
“Someone is trying to open a path here,” he said. “There are some mana concerns, but inviting them seems worthwhile if they can remove your ornaments.”
I nodded as much as I could. No doubt he was referring to Eglantine. Unless someone intervened, the divine powers swelling and rebounding in my body would surely kill me.
Erwaermen slashed the air, creating an entrance that stood out like a sore thumb in the perfectly white Garden of Beginnings. No sooner had its iridescent barrier wavered than small explosions popped all around the former god.
Oh. It’s Ferdinand.
Nobody else would use charms from the God of Concealment to sneak into this place and start attacking—not that his bombardment appeared to be doing much. Erwaermen looked slightly annoyed, but that was all.
“It was not your mana that opened the path, Quinta. I assume you employed another of your craven tricks. So be it. Come here and remove Myne’s arm ornaments.”
“For what purpose?” Ferdinand asked, still unseen.
“To allow Mestionora to descend.”
“I refuse.”
Wait! No!
Ferdinand appeared out of nowhere, having likely removed his concealment charms. I could tell that he was still in battle mode; he had several magic tools in hand and appeared to be gauging the distance between him and Erwaermen.
This was bad. Refusing the goddess meant refusing my only hope of surviving. I reached a trembling hand toward Ferdinand, terrified of my approaching demise, but he was too busy staring at Erwaermen to notice.
Ferdinand... Help...
“I see,” Erwaermen said. “Myne’s death will complete your Book of Mestionora and allow you to claim the foundation. A most adequate plan—and one that leaves you without any blood on your hands. I would expect no less from you.”
The former god paused in thought. “Hmm... Loath though I am to admit it, I must acknowledge you as the next Zent. Myne, it is unfortunate, but there was not enough time to support your ascension to the throne.” He shook his head in disappointment, but his resignation was clear. “Quinta, it seems unnecessarily cruel to leave Myne in her current state. Show some compassion and put her to rest, then hurry up and dye the foundation.”
Ferdinand inspected us both, concerned. He must have then noticed my desperation because he knelt down beside me, keeping a cautious eye on Erwaermen all the while.
“Would allowing Mestionora to descend save Rozemyne?”
“Only the gods can control divine power. There is nothing mere mortals can do for her.”
Ferdinand ground his teeth. “Rozemyne, do you oppose Mestionora descending into your body?”
“No...! Save... me. AAAGH!”
Ferdinand put away his magic tools and pulled out what appeared to be a small sweet. He wrenched open my clenched jaw, stuck it in my mouth, and then popped one in his own mouth before rising to his feet. He moved to stand between Erwaermen and me, then struck the former god with an attack. I couldn’t see it through his cape, but there was another explosive pop.
“This is a less potent version,” Ferdinand said. “Stay frozen while I rescue Rozemyne.”
“Aah...! Ngh...!”
Erwaermen groaned in pain, though I couldn’t understand why. He’d weathered all the other attacks like they were nothing. I received my answer when I saw Ferdinand toss aside a silver tube. He must have hit Erwaermen with instant-death poison.
So that thing he fed me was the antidote? It tasted pretty bitter.
Only once Erwaermen was dealt with did Ferdinand roll up my sleeves and start removing my defensive charms.
“It hurts... Gaaah!”
“I understand, but you must stay still.”
That was easier said than done; the pain was intense enough that even the slightest movement brought about a fresh wave of agony. He’d never had trouble ignoring my writhing and complaining before. Couldn’t he continue that trend and get this over with already?
“Um, Lord Ferdinand, Lady Rozemyne... Was this really worth interrupting the transference ceremony?” Eglantine called. Her worried question reminded me that she had opened the path in the first place. She was supposed to have come here, not Ferdinand.
“I am removing some of Rozemyne’s charms so that Mestionora may descend into her body. Do not just stand there; help me. You would do well to realize that you, too, will climb the towering stairway if something happens to her.”
Eglantine came over at once, responding to the urgency of the request. She paled as soon as she saw me.
“Lord Ferdinand, what in the world happened to Lady Rozemyne?”
“I do not know,” he replied, frustrated. “But she will die unless Mestionora descends into her body.” It was then that he finished removing the charms from my first arm.
“Could you keep her arm in place? I cannot find the clasp.”