The streets of the Tower Capital, which had been protected by the artificial clouds in the sky, now baked under the light of the new sun. The city was overflowing with neon signs and LEDs, but their brightness was drowned out by the glow from the sky, and they appeared much paler in comparison to it. The windows of high-rise buildings drew their blinds closed as if in shame. The Capital Tower, symbol of the city of the dead, was in the process of evaporating, and it was about to be absorbed into the fabricated sun.
“All the power of my Skill is now focused on maintaining this miniature sun. At this moment, I cannot use any other Skill. Children, this is your final chance—your only chance. The world will soon be enveloped in my favor.” Prodotis held his arms out languidly, welcoming those who challenged him. “I will be content with either outcome. Either I will win, make you the new people of Krios, and we shall reign together over an eternal kingdom. Or else you will slay me, and I will depart this world, comforted by the thought that I can trust you to inherit my legacy.”
“I just want to confirm one thing. My daughter, Nue Kirisaki...the young Chimera, princess of the Titans. Are you willing to give her up?” Dill inquired, and Sid gulped. Sid moved in front of Nue, who was still nearby, positioning himself to protect her.
Prodotis’s attitude was the key to this exchange. There were signs of a potential compromise—and the answer to Dill’s question would decide everything.
“...Chimera is a special Titan. She will be a perfect specimen for me to develop my new blood. With that girl’s sacrifice, my new device will be perfected.” Prodotis gave his response, concealing nothing.
Dill and Sid had already kicked the ground and started running, and Rei’s phosphors streamed from the soles of their boots—negotiations had broken down!
“My name is Aegisthus!”
“I am Orestes, son of Aegisthus!”
While announcing their own names, the pair slashed at Prodotis, who blocked their strikes with a mundane spear he had picked up and returned their introductions.
“I am the son of Geryon. My name is Prodotis!” The hero’s single spear stopped Dill and Sid’s swords and pushed both challengers back easily. There was no assistance from his Skill—it was the hero’s sheer strength that repelled them.
Prodotis stopped as he was about to give chase. Indentations appeared on his bronze skin, as if a hand had seized him—the unseen hand of psychokinesis.
“Hnngh...ungh! You won’t call this cowardly, will you? In our world, we have a saying—to pass up an opportunity is a sure sign of a lack of composure... Whaaa?!”
Prodotis, with his superhuman strength, wrenched apart the Manager Toiler’s unseen hands, As if that wasn’t enough, the hero seized part of one of the psychokinetic hands resembling a finger...and snapped it.
The feedback from Toiler’s Skill caused his own finger to twist horribly. As the Manager collapsed to his knees, Meteor stepped in to take his place—followed by Repeater, holding a gun under her left arm.
“Eat this! Have a taste of civilization!” Having given her broken right arm only the most perfunctory treatment, Repeater fired her gun wildly. At that same time, Meteor’s psychokinetic missiles, made visible by their sheer power, left trails behind them as they rained down upon their target one by one.
“What use is a hero?! In our modern age of freedom and equality, such figures are no longer needed! When all is said and done, you’re nothing more than...”
A spear flew out of the rising dust and skewered Meteor straight through the head. A moment later, a shadow leaped out in front of Repeater, who had been standing next to Meteor.
Click. Click. Left holding her empty gun, Repeater could do nothing but look up at the hero who appeared before her—this man of tall stature and elegant features. His silver eyes were turned in her direction, but were not looking at her in any real sense. The indifference he showed was worthy of the gods, as was his arrogance. He truly did belong to a different breed of mankind.
“Right. I thought you would come.” The hero turned his back to Repeater and with his bare hands he stopped Sid’s sword, foiling the strike that had been aimed at his back!
The blade bit into his bronze skin, then poured phosphors into the wound like poison. Prodotis twisted his arm in an attempt to break the blade as it slowly sank into his flesh, but in order to evade Dill, who appeared at his flank, he was forced to desist and take a step back.
I was just bait. The unyielding Repeater’s knees buckled, and she crumpled to the ground. Her right arm, which she had numbed with painkillers, felt like it belonged to someone else.
The battle continued. While parrying Dill and Sid’s attacks, Prodotis pulled his spear from Meteor’s lifeless corpse and held it at the ready again. The ancient technique with which he wielded his spear was simple, but still exhibited immense power with the awesome strength of a hero behind it.
Prodotis shattered the earth beneath his feet with each step he took. When he swung his spear, the air grew hot from the friction it generated. This hero had never needed anything like a Skill from the very beginning.
Pushing back Dill and Sid in turn with kicks and strikes from his spear, even as they coordinated through the resonance between their minds, he evaded a homing bolt from Blusterer aimed at his blind spot, then seized and broke the arrow as it flew past him. He pierced Toiler’s invisible arms with his spear as if he could see them, and knocked an arrow fired by Whitehead out of the air.
Prodotis was strong. The hero’s senses, now cut off from his Skill and no longer scattered amongst the vast array of options that went along with that, were now clearer and sharper than before. The world in Prodotis’s eyes was now very simple—he needed only to handle the next attack, then the one after that, and then the numerous attacks that followed. Or, he could submit himself to a few blows, taking them on the chin. He needed only to repeat this again and again. He would study his enemies’ movements and take appropriate countermeasures. Even now, Prodotis was growing as a hero.
The sunlike orb in the sky grew steadily brighter. Prodotis’s scheme was on the verge of being fulfilled.