In that hour, the names of those who challenged the hero Prodotis: Orestes, who did not know fear! Rei, whose power rivaled the omnipotence of the gods! Blusterer, who fired darts from afar—and finally Dill Steel-Link, who rallied their morale!
Dill and Sid caught the hero in a pincer attack, from in front and behind, striking at him together, their movements perfectly synchronized! This mirrored interplay was an expression of both Sid’s Skill and his admiration for Dill. If Dill moved to the right, Sid advanced along the diagonal that passed through Prodotis in the same direction and swung his sword in tandem with Dill. Their thoughts melted together through telepathy, their individual wills evaporating and drifting away.
Prodotis spun around, sweeping his sword in a circle around him. The flames from his Skill leaped off the point of his blade in a spray of embers, extending the range of his weapon.
Dill and Sid, through their shared vision, saw through this move. First they evaded it, then they struck back—Dill at Prodotis’s chest and Sid at his back, running him through with blades charged with phosphors. The heat of the phosphors began to burn through Prodotis’s bronze skin.
Retreating to their rear, and supporting them with her phosphors, was Rei. With her eyes closed, kneeling in prayer, she did not move. Abandoning any thought of defending herself, she focused entirely on lending Dill and Sid’s swords the light they needed to cut the hero apart.
Prodotis himself would have liked to prioritize eliminating Rei, but Dill and Sid stuck fast to him, preventing him from advancing on her. The hero, impressed, pondered for a moment, then carried out his solution.
“Galatea, the statue that houses shadows.” The outline of the hero split into four, and the very next instant, four images of Prodotis, all identical in appearance, came into view. These were true reflections, a feat Dill and Sid would never achieve no matter how much the resonance between them deepened.
Prodotis, toppler of fortresses, dispassionately issued his commands. He did not use his four clones in the same way, but sent one at Dill and the other three at Sid. Thus, Prodotis’s two opponents could no longer employ their mirrored coordination—their circumstances were too different. Sid had no choice but to shut off the resonance between them and handle the three clones on his own.
“Sid!” Dill tried to run to Sid’s aid, but he faced an enemy that had already outmatched him one-on-one. The clone stood in his way and would not let him pass.
Sid defended against the fierce assault of the other three clones of Prodotis. His sword imbued with phosphors was shattered, and his shoulder and thigh were pierced by the hero’s spears of flames. The images of Prodotis immediately brought their spears down to deliver the final blow without a shred of conceit. Prodotis had long since recognized them as formidable foes, not to be trifled with.
Sid would not give up. Holding up what was left of his broken sword, he stood firm against the heroes.
And then, the three clones suddenly keeled over sideways.
“I’m not the one who hit them.” From a distance, Blusterer declared his victory. “Those bolts belonged to Rick Wake.” A wild light flickered around the crossbow bolts lodged in the heroes’ bronze skin, and the pyrokinetic Skill imbued within them turned critical and exploded. Blusterer executed another twirl of his crossbow. The clones of Prodotis had vanished without so much as a trace.
“I suppose you’re the real Prodotis?” Dill, who had engaged in a one-on-one battle, questioned the single hero that remained before him. In the middle of their fierce duel, as they locked their weapons together, their faces drew near as if they sought to devour each other. Dill’s rust-colored eyes glowed dimly.
“Nay. I have just become the true Prodotis. Those were all equal manifestations of me. You have already killed me thrice... I confess myself shocked.”
“Then you’re about to be even more shocked. Orestes!”
“Yes, Master!” Charging out of the flames from the blast, it was Orestes who leaped forth.
“...You’re unharmed!”
The wounds Sid had sustained were staunched by Rei’s phosphors of prayer. The form of the youth Orestes was a temporary body to begin with, created by their shared Skill. That being the case, it could be repaired by the same Skill. As long as Rei’s prayers were focused on maintaining the body of Orestes, Sid could never fall.
Prodotis could not evade the slash that came from behind. Dill, who crossed weapons with him from the front and tested his strength against the hero, would not allow him to escape.
The hero braced himself and tensed the muscles in his back. There was a strange bursting sound, and the muscles on Prodotis’s back swelled up, hardening his bronze body until it was as strong as tempered steel. There the blade of phosphors hit home. But...it was Orestes who fell to his knees.
“Huh...?” Bouncing back, and falling to the ground, Sid looked at the broken sword in his hand in shock. It had already broken once before—but the blade, which he had repaired with his phosphors, was shattered once again, even though Rei thought only of supporting him and strengthening that very blade.
“Father!” From far away, the hero Kranos, who fought against Halberd’s party, cried out with tears streaming down his face. “You are the very sun, the very image of a hero. Please make use of our strength. I, Kranos, will wring the necks of these lowly curs with my bare hands!”
Prodotis accepted his suggestion. The armor of flames Kranos wore disappeared. In the same fashion, the flaming weapons carried by the other heroes of Krios—Itimenos and Papus—also went up in smoke.
“Epimetheus, the returning favor.” The weapons of flame, which the Seven Generals of Krios had treated as their own power, were fundamentally shared with them by just one man—Prodotis. The power that had been diffused among them was now concentrated within the King of Krios. The hero’s body glowed.