CHAPTER FOUR The Goddess Reincarnated Veltol had left the practice hall and was running through the hallways. He didn’t see Machina anywhere, but he had no choice but to trust in her. “Now, where is Hizuki?” Right as he reached the stairs, the mana in the air expanded so much that it made the aether rumble. “What was that?!” Veltol felt the change, reflexively stopping as he recognized how highly inductive and alien the mana was. “It came from above…!” He immediately decided to head over to the source of the strange, bloated mana. He took the shortest route to the rooftop: not the stairs and hallways, but the walls of the school building. Veltol donned his black mana armor and kicked the window open, then leaped from the short protrusion of the windows, one to the other. “Rampage in the black skies! Vernal!” Veltol summoned the soul armament forged from his own soul and the Dark Sword, Vernal, as he climbed the walls. He reached the top of the roughly hundred-meter-tall building in a single breath, landing on the rooftop from his last, higher jump. At the center was a glowing magic circle, a girl unconscious atop it. Before her stood a black-haired woman. “Hizuki!” She did not respond to his call, but she was alive. He sensed strange mana emerging from within her. “As clouds to the moon and winds to the blossoms.” The full-borg woman in front of Hizuki turned around. “Have you ever heard this Japanese saying? I’ve always found it quite graceful, but now I see how apt it is for this situation. Every rose has its thorn.” “That voice… Santa—so it really was you?” Right away, Veltol realized why Mag’s voice was coming out of Tratte’s body. “It’s Rosanta. How many times do I have to tell you? Can you be any ruder? Whatever, I don’t care. I guess you figured out what’s going on.” “I wasn’t sure, but I had my doubts when I witnessed the mediumship at the manor last night. Rather, your bizarre name had me suspicious from the very beginning. So should I keep calling you Santa, or should I say Faceless?” “Hmmm, you knew just from my magic? Erm, I guess I should’ve expected that. It doesn’t matter what you call me. Names are pointless as far as I’m concerned.” Veltol started thinking. The current situation in Akihabara; Mag taking over Tratte’s body; Korneah’s murder. Then he rid his mind of such thoughts. There was only one thing worth thinking about: saving Hizuki. However, the enemy was near her—he couldn’t so easily approach. He decided to observe first. He figured out the magic circle’s technic with just one glance. “So this, too, is mediumship…” “You have a good eye, Demon Lord. What do you think?” “What is your objective?” “The goddess Meldia.” “Meldia…?” “More specifically, we want to acquire and preserve her divinity. We initially only looked for the regalia, a piece of her divinity, but then I received a new quest: to manifest that mass of divinity we call a goddess and secure it.” Mag sounded disappointed as she continued, “But I suppose I’ve already failed from the moment you arrived here before I could finish… I’m super bummed out, really. That heretical hag is so useless.” “Ha, I couldn’t care less about your supposed quest. I will be taking Hizuki back.” “Seriously, how could I have ever possibly accounted for you? I was shocked to know you came here right on the day I’d be carrying out my plans. I couldn’t believe it. The higher-ups were in such a hurry, too, that I couldn’t change course. I know you can’t expect things to always go according to plan, but this is ridiculous. What terrible luck I have. A ten-year plot, ruined in an instant. I lost.” “Quite the sore loser, I see. You can keep up that attitude if you defeat me, you know.” “You might be ancient, but it’s a fact that you defeated Marcus, Demon Lord. I have no intention of fighting you; I’m not that conceited. I lost…but I didn’t say you won. The magic’s still ongoing, unknown to you.” A magic circle appeared at Mag’s feet. “What…?” Veltol stopped for a moment. He did not know of the technic Mag had just expanded. Veltol didn’t try to approach her. He was wary of it being some sort of magi-gadget, since no maginom had been proclaimed. Instead, he took a few steps back to analyze it and decide his next actions. “The fuse has been lit. Nothing’s stopping the flames of war from erupting in this city. I’ll come here to get hold of Meldia after it’s over, if she’s still alive.” Then Mag vanished. “Teleportation…?!” He didn’t stay shocked at the unknown technic and magic for long before something changed in Hizuki. She slowly began floating upward. The mana leaking from her body made the surrounding aether glow gold. A bright golden light indicative of brilliant divinity. A cog of light appeared behind her, reminiscent of a halo in religious works of art. The Crown decorated her head; the Orb in her right eye shone golden, and her left eye turned the same color from its original scarlet. She held the Blade in her hand as her school uniform transformed into a pure-white ceremonial dress, the goddess’s soul armament. She was suspended standing a few centimeters above the floor. Veltol stared at Hizuki as she was enveloped in this golden light. “Hizuki,” he whispered. “You are wrong,” she replied. Her voice sounded just like Hizuki’s, and yet at the same time, it was different. “My name is Meldia.” Hizuki—no, Meldia—met Veltol’s gaze. “I am the goddess of joy and misfortune, one of the Six Great Gods, Meldia. Your head is held far too high, insolent heathen.” “Meldia has…manifested…?!” Every single strand of her hair was brimming with mana, shining bright. “I believe this is the first time we’ve met in person, Demon Lord Veltol.” The goddess cast Veltol a salacious sidelong glance. Her presence was less impactful after having manifested in the material world and relying on her vessel’s mana. Nonetheless, it was perfectly clear that she was a higher being, given her transcendental bearing as well as the mere sight of her. “I didn’t expect you to still be alive in this day and age, Goddess Meldia.” “I can say the same for you. Though, it appears you’ve taken quite a tumble from your former self, back when you instilled fear throughout the world.” “Not nearly as great a tumble as you. You’ve taken a human vessel. How the mighty have fallen. Have you lost your godly pride?” “…I really don’t like you after all, Veltol. Truth be told, I dislike any man with black hair. Men should all be blond.” “Oh, looks like we agree on something, Meldia. I don’t like you, either—especially that haughty tone you take before me.” “Says the man who treats a literal goddess with such impudence.” Veltol thought about his next move while they chatted. His objectives were gathering all three regalia, breaking the underground treasury’s seal, and verifying whether the Dark Peers Records were truly there. The easiest way to achieve that would be to kill Meldia and get the regalia…but killing a friend—Hizuki—was not an option. Nor was giving in. So he reached the same conclusion he told the Hero Gram that day. The Demon Lord always had only one choice: not to choose, but to get it all. That was it. Meldia opened and closed her hand, checking her new body. She was full of openings. Now was the time to strike. As soon as he thought so, Meldia was right in front of him. “—?!” They were within reach of each other’s sword. Meldia had moved with speed far beyond Veltol’s expectations. She held her sword high, and he responded in kind. The Demon Lord’s dark sword and the Goddess’s golden sword clashed, bursting the aether. And the Demon Lord was blown far away. Veltol, though shocked, thought things over as he was blasted backward at high speed. Now we’re talking! In his thousands of years of life, he had seen the power of the gods from afar, but this was the first time he could witness it for himself in the material world. His lips curved into a smile from the exhilaration. Her mana and the medium’s strength put Meldia just at the same or not too far above the Six Dark Peers’ power, which shouldn’t have been enough to send Veltol flying like this. However, he could not deny the reality. This is not magic! It’s her divinity! Could this power be something imbued into the sword itself, or…? Veltol’s Sage Eyes did not have any effect on divinity, since this ability was outside the concept of magic. The element of the unknown was what Veltol enjoyed most in battle, and this duel against a goddess, the first of his life, was certainly enough to entertain him. He crashed into the rooftop fence before he could finish his thoughts. It didn’t slow his momentum, however—he broke right through, flying out of the building. “You’re far too haughty, Demon Lord!” Meldia closed the distance in an instant and swung her sword. “I’ll cut you down to size!” Veltol defended himself from a direct hit by connecting swords, but being in midair, he had no way of pressing against her. The Divine Sword pushed him with no trouble, and he fell to the ground in a flash. “Heh, never thought I would be killed by Meldia. What an honor.” Despite wearing his armor, defending himself with the Dark Sword, and strengthening his body with mana, the impact crushed his skull. A torrent of blood gushed from his head, his neck bent in an impossible manner, his organs were crushed, and he coughed up blood. He died instantaneously. He was the Demon Lord, however—the lord of the immortals. He could recover right away from such a simple death by physical damage. “My regenerative powers are in tip-top shape. I must thank my three million followers for their faith.” He twisted his neck back into its natural position with a hand. “You’re puny, Veltol.” The goddess descended silently. Her feet didn’t touch the ground as she glared at Veltol. “You dare insult me, Goddess?” “Don’t look at me without my permission, Demon Lord.” The two beings of legend faced each other. “You are slow, weak, puny. You disappoint me, Veltol. This is the Demon Lord who turned on all gods of Alnaeth, who fought to death against him…against the Hero Gram? I can scarcely believe the man who tortured him is now groveling like an insect.” “Sad to say, groveling is hardly an embarrassment to me anymore. I was beaten to the point of vomiting and thrown to the trash as soon as I came back to this world. This is nothing, really.” Veltol used the Dark Sword as a cane to help himself to his feet. “But what about you? You appear to have a rather loose definition of goddess.” “I am still but a pupa before eclosion. I know not what that woman with the mechanical body pretended to do with me, but it is fortunate I managed to manifest here. Now I only have to fulfill my wish.” “Your wish…?” Meldia was implying she had a reason for wanting to manifest in this world. Veltol did not know what it could be, but he was certain of one thing. Whatever this goddess wants so badly that she would take on a material form…it can’t be good! “But first, I must remove this nasty rat from my sight.” She disappeared. “I have to eliminate his—Gram’s—enemy!” “—!” Meldia appeared before Veltol once more. “Again…?!” Veltol felt something was off—this could not be explained by mere speed. There was no sound, no gust of wind. She was neither stopping nor delaying time, nor teleporting, either. He couldn’t feel any tremors of aether or mana. “Haaah!” Meldia swung her sword downward. Veltol didn’t try to block it this time; he dodged. The Divine Sword cut through air and stuck into the ground. That should have bored a deeper hole if she used the same force as when she hit me before. That means she’s not using any direct means of boosting her physical strength. There must be a gimmick to this. The attack could have also been a bluff, but Meldia’s swordsmanship was amateurish in Veltol’s opinion. He didn’t think she was using a trick. It might be too hasty, but he had to make such judgments so long as he had no surefire way to counter. Getting too close would be poor strategy. That is the Divine Sword she’s wielding; she could nullify my immortality. But I can’t keep my distance so long as she keeps moving like that. Meldia pulled the sword out, scraping the ground. Veltol jumped backward. In that case…I have to keep my distance and attack the moment she approaches! He chose a midrange style. He initialized a spell and skipped the incantation, then proclaimed the maginom to activate it: “Dell Ray!” Veltol shot a black flash from the magic circle that materialized from his hand. Meldia appeared and disappeared several times before he fired, just as he expected. He activated the spell in sync with her movement. Meldia’s speed had become her demise—the attack would hit directly, without fail. Veltol was sure of it. And yet the black light missed the target. The Dell Ray flew right past her as if Veltol had not aimed correctly. “I missed?! No…she dodged!” He discarded the first thought for one reason: “I couldn’t possibly miss a target!” His self-confidence, self-esteem, his pride, conceit, narcissism, and egomania made him certain. Her combat ability defied the magical and physical rules of the world. She was the goddess of joy and misfortune. Her divinity made him certain, as well. Yet at the same time, the shock of missing the shot had him wide-open. “Die for my love, Demon Lord!” The Divine Sword left a golden trail behind as it swung upward, slicing Veltol’s arm in half. His armor served no purpose in defending against the attack. “Guh…!” Meldia was vulnerable after the strike, so he launched a kick to her torso. It felt like kicking a stone wall. He forwent trying to send her flying that way and retreated on reflex. Veltol grimaced out of burning pain. Ancient mediumship wisdom said that the purpose of pain was to signal danger to the body. The further an immortal was from a material death, the less pain they felt. Veltol, with his current regained faith, should not have felt pain from his arm merely being chopped off. It should have regenerated right away. Yet even this was slow. This meant that Meldia’s Blade had damaged his soul, too, inhibiting his immortality. “So the faith of three million followers kneels to the power of the weaponized goddess soul fragments. It appears your soul armament really is on the level of the Hero’s Holy Sword. But now I know the true face of your power.” “What…?” “Meldia, the goddess of joy and misfortune. You manipulate these two elements between us—you control the power of fate to make your own attacks critical hits and mine fumble. Am I wrong? I suppose I have not figured it out entirely, since this does not cover your movement itself.” If this were a dice game, the goddess would have multiple dice in hand, all showing the exact pips she wanted, while Veltol had nothing but ones. Veltol realized he was fighting on the goddess of misfortune’s own field. It was impossible to win. Even with decreased divinity, in a mortal’s body, she could still control such an invisible concept. Now…how do I counter? I still haven’t deciphered the nature of her divinity in its entirety. That thing is a power beyond the rules of this world…a game cheat, through and through. But no, rather than thinking about how to defeat her… He had to think about saving Hizuki. Enclosing two active souls in one body made them clash. The one who managed to devour the other got control of the vessel. In which case, there is already no hope of saving Hizuki… Rescuing her would be impossible if Meldia had already completely devoured her soul. In that case, his only choice would be to destroy Meldia’s vessel—Hizuki’s body. Meldia was able to stay sealed within Hizuki’s body for a long time because her soul hadn’t been completely active, on top of the Orb’s control. There was no way to verify whether Hizuki’s soul was still safe. “I tip my hat to your divinity, Great Goddess. To be able to freely manipulate fate as so. Now I see why divinity is regarded as a tremendous power beyond human comprehension. So you used this power in its peak to change that man’s fate as a reward.” “Change…his fate…?” “You rid him of his ability to age.” Meldia’s shoulders jolted up slightly as she realized what he meant. “What…?” “Surely you did not forget, Meldia.” The goddess gulped. “I am talking about the Hero Gram, whose life you greatly altered.” Something changed within Meldia after hearing that. “…ry.” “…?” “Aaah, aaah, aaaaaaaaaah! No! I’m sorry… I didn’t… I’m sorry, Gram, I’m so sorry… It wasn’t… I just wanted to make you happy… No, I—I… That wasn’t my intention… Gram!” “Oh…” Veltol realized whose voice Hizuki had been hearing. The goddess Meldia regretted giving the Hero Gram the gift of immortality. “—” The goddess hung her head, and her light darkened. She looked like a scolded child. She stopped apologizing. Then she raised her head. “Help me, Veltol.” Meldia was still in her ceremonial dress. For a single instant, her left eye turned back to scarlet. It was that girl, crying out for help. Hizuki resurfaced momentarily. Her soul hasn’t been fully eclipsed yet. Considering the technic is making use of the Railrod effect, I should have expected that Meldia’s takeover would weaken through mental instability. Perhaps… He saw a glimmer of hope. “Of course I will.” Veltol fiercely nodded in response. Then he remembered his oath to her. “So if I asked you for help, you would help me?” He swore on his name as Demon Lord Veltol that he would help her. There was nothing else to consider. What he had to do was simple: save the girl asking for his help. Nothing more. It would take some time for his arm to regenerate, what with his immortality inhibited by the Blade’s slice. He couldn’t use magic that needed both arms. And his opponent was too great to take on with a single one. His situation was not ideal. But that didn’t matter. “Hang on a bit longer, Hizuki. I will save you.” “Hizuki? No, that’s not who I am.” The goddess rose again. “My name…is Meldia.” Machina finally caught up to the girl clad in black, and they were now facing each other in a hallway on the School of Magic’s third floor. Machina initialized her mana and waved her arms to summon her black armor: her soul armament. The mana flowing through her long, silver hair caused it to burst into flames. This mana, this sensation… I also felt this when she attacked me before. Could it be…? No, there’s no way… She felt something like nostalgia…and tenderness. However, the mana was too distorted to make a proper judgment. Machina was certain this was the same girl she had seen for a second in Electric Town the day before. But the problem was she felt like she had known her for much, much longer. She couldn’t read any expression from her face, since it was covered by both a visor and a veil. “Scan complete. Opponent’s immortal factor has been measured. Threat level over twenty. Execution-armament-use restrictions lifted per assault regulations. Summoning MPM-LoL.” Her voice sounded digital, like it’d been put through a voice changer. But even that felt familiar to Machina. The summoned armament—the Massively Produced Model Lance of Legend—appeared as a staff about two and a half meters long, with a wing-shaped ornament at the tip. The girl wielded it, extending its wings to reveal a giant blade of aether at the tip, turning the staff into a lance. She pointed it down and dropped her hips, leaning forward. Machina could easily stay on the offensive if this was just a regular spear, letting her immortality regenerate any wound. This was the strongest battle tactic an immortal could take. However, she had to keep her guard up so long as she didn’t know what sort of effect the weapon could have. From what she just said, she has some way to determine I’m immortal… So it’s very likely that weapon has anti-immortal capabilities. Machina had naturally come to stay alert against anti-immortal means after experiencing the Immortal Hunt firsthand. But more than that, there was something else she wanted to know. “Can I ask you a question?” “…?” The girl finally expressed a sort of emotion in reaction; she tilted her head. She showed an opening for the first time, but Machina didn’t take advantage. “Have we ever met before?” This wasn’t a trick to make her lower her guard—it was a genuine question. Machina wanted to check if this pang of nostalgia meant anything—this feeling that she had met her in the past, long before she saw her in Electric Town. “…” The girl shook her head. That was expected; besides, nothing would’ve changed, even if they had met before. They were still enemies. And now they were going to fight to the death; that was their sole connection. “My name… My code is Ange. What is your name?” the girl whispered. “Huh?” Machina opened her eyes wide at Ange’s sudden self-introduction. “We haven’t met before, so I’m introducing myself. I’m Ange.” “Oh. My name is Machina. Machina Soleige. Nice to meet you.” “Machina…” Ange repeated her name multiple times. Then she shook her head. “No… I really don’t know that name.” The way she talks… It’s similar to her. But… That same moment, Ange leaped off the ground. She’s attacking! Machina brushed aside any further thoughts. She was empty-handed, at a clear disadvantage in close combat. So… “I just have to keep my distance!” Machina grabbed her wrist and raised her arm, then slightly bent at the knee to lower her stance. She activated a spell before her opponent could get in reach. “Shooting Lotus!” An explosion engulfed the long hallway in front of Machina with a thunderous boom. The blast was strong enough to push Machina’s own arm up in recoil and blow her a dozen or so centimeters backward. The destructive flames looked for an escape, shattering the glass windows, blowing through the classrooms, and even destroying one of the walls. All that remained was the charred hallway, some embers, and traces of devastation. Ange was nowhere to be found. She’d be doing me a huge favor if that turned her into ash… But Machina then felt a presence, and she turned to look outside. There was Ange, flying in midair. Blue aetheric wings glittered on her back. The sight reminded Machina of an old friend. “Mastis.” Ange activated a spell. Light extended from the aetheric wings and turned into a dozen azure bullets that shot right at Machina through the broken windows. Machina stared at them while jumping backward into a classroom. The bullets changed direction like hounds hunting her. “Tracking bullets…!” Then even more light bullets destroyed the walls at her sides in pursuit of her. “Flame Shield Blossom!” Machina chose defense over dodging, raised her arms, and deployed a shield. The flame petals stopped the bullets. However, they also obstructed Machina’s vision. “Wha—?!” Ange was pushing against her, breaking the classroom wall and slicing her flame shield. “Attack.” The lance aimed for her heart. Machina twisted her body to evade, but the tip bore into her shoulder. “Argh!” The pain told her that the weapon damaged her soul as well. The wings of light pushed forward with greater force. Ange kept on charging until the two of them hit the wall on the other side of the classroom, destroying it. The desks in the next classroom over flew away as she pushed to the next wall, and then the next, and the next. “Stop…!” Machina managed to push the lance away and kick Ange back. The blade left Machina’s shoulder and flicked blood onto Ange’s visor. She knows her theory… Aiming at a joint to diminish mobility was one of the oldest rules of anti-immortal combat. Machina’s regeneration was slowed down for sure, despite the anti-immortal effects of Ange’s lance not being too high. She couldn’t raise her arm. “Confirmed decline in opponent’s combat abilities.” Ange swung her lance around and stood ready again. Machina would not be able to take a second hit. …But I’m already winning. She smiled, certain of her victory. “Did you know? An immortal’s blood dissolves in the aether and disappears after some time away from their body—unless they don’t want it to.” Machina’s shoulder wound had already closed. “And my blood is still on your visor… Do you understand what that means?” The groundwork was laid. “I didn’t want to use that asshole’s magic, but when push comes to shove…!” She used a certain man’s signature move, which activated when his blood touched the aether. Its name? “Blood Bomb!” Machina detonated her blood just as the Duke of the Bloody Arts, Marcus, used to. The blood on Ange’s visor suddenly combusted and exploded. Her head was blown off, and pieces of her Familia and visor fell to the ground. Her knees buckled, then her body collapsed. Unlike Marcus, Machina didn’t have the magical aptitude to use others’ blood as a medium for the blast, but she had greater aptitude for magic relating to flames and explosions than him. She imitated Marcus’s technic through her Familia, allowing her to use her own blood, albeit with restrictions. “Phew…” She let out a sigh of relief and released her soul armament, changing back into her school uniform. One enemy down. She turned to look at the headless corpse. It was drowning in the huge amount of blood flowing out from the wound. “…” Machina faced the other direction and started thinking about what to do next. First, she considered joining Veltol to provide backup. Then, she considered returning to the practice hall to protect the students. But she felt a presence before she could make her choice. She turned around. “?!” She saw the headless body move. No one survived without a head—that was how things worked. But she already knew of an existence that went against such rules. “She’s an immortal…!” The blood surrounding the girl started evaporating into the aether. Then something shone. Ange’s body was lit up like it was under a spotlight. Wings of light poured down on her, then slowly lifted her body upward like a puppet. Under the divine glow, her shattered skull began regenerating. Machina had seen that light before, in the distant past. “I did wonder…that maybe it was you.” She was undergoing resurrection, and Machina knew that exact method. Immortals had different ways of resurrecting depending on their immortal factor. For example, Machina, with a phoenix factor, would regenerate in flames when her head was blown off. An immortal with a vampire factor would knit its body again with blood. Ange was different. She was like a messenger of the heavens descending upon the earth. Her head came back together, now free from the visor and veil. “It…really was you.” Machina knew that face. Her bluish-silver hair; her jade-color eyes, deeply clear like the Yuke Sea; her face still looking so young and innocent. Machina knew her name. “May!” She had a vague idea. A hunch. She considered the possibility. This girl really was one of the Six Dark Peers. May, the Duchess of the Mournful Firmament. The one Machina was closest to—the one she thought of as her own sister. Relief, joy, confusion—all sorts of emotions swirled within Machina. “I…don’t…know you,” May muttered. Her face, her eyes, her hair. It all made Machina’s chest ache with fondness. But she received only rejection in return. “May…did something happen to your memories?” She might have been brainwashed or had her memories tampered with. Maybe she’d been subjected to sensory alteration, hypnosis, mental pollution, or perhaps even a new, unfamiliar technic. Machina considered every possibility. She put her emotions before anything else, even completely forgetting why they were fighting. “No, don’t…” Machina tried to come closer, but she stopped when she saw something change within May. “No, the shackles… Arrrgh!”
Chapter 25
25 min read