Time always slips away without a sound—
Japan in May was like an unripe plum warmed by the sun; before it even touched the lips, sourness had already seeped through the fingers.
Along the banks of Tokyo's Sumida River, cherry petals had long sunk to the riverbed, yet the water still retained faint, rosy memories.
At five in the morning, the first water bus pierced through the thin mist, its wake scattering reflections of tall buildings into fragments of silver.
Whoosh—!
A noisy gust swept through the air, dropping the temperature in an instant.
Dawn had barely broken; the sky was a hazy indigo, as if diluted by ink-stained water. Against this backdrop, a streak of fiery red atop a skyscraper was especially conspicuous.
"Alastor, do you think... she'll come to this city?"
"Hm... We've been chasing that person for half a month now, and we've grasped her principles fairly well. Given her style, there's no way she'll leave the Torches in this city unattended."
Nearly a month had passed since the mysterious deity had saved her. The flame-haired girl had rested less than a week due to severe injuries before resuming her crusade against the Crimson Denizens.
During that brief respite, she'd calmed down a little. Although she desperately wanted to see that mysterious woman again, she hadn't forgotten her duty as a Flame Haze—as the Flame-Haired Burning-Eyed Hunter. For now, she'd reluctantly put aside the search for Nitocris, prioritizing the elimination of Denizens harming the human world.
Of course, there was another, even bigger problem—she had zero clues about Nitocris. Absolutely none. How was she supposed to look for someone without even a lead?
All she could do was wait for Nitocris to appear again on her own.
Good news was, Nitocris showed up frequently, every two or three days at most. Every time she killed Crimson Denizens, she used her powers—and using power meant emitting a fluctuation.
Bad news was, Nitocris eliminated Denizens far too swiftly. Even powerful Crimson Lords couldn't stall her for half a minute before she completely annihilated them.
With such a tight timeframe, the flame-haired girl couldn't possibly sprint from one city to another before Nitocris vanished again.
To speed things up, the girl had even developed fiery wings for short bursts of flight within the past month—clearly demonstrating how desperately she wanted to meet Nitocris again.
But, sadly, flying was useless when Nitocris could simply teleport between cities, far faster than flight.
Still, even though they hadn't once glimpsed Nitocris's shadow, they'd gradually uncovered her operating pattern.
Nitocris appeared to intentionally hunt highly destructive Crimson Denizens, and even used their leftover [Power of Existence] to restore the Torches in the city.
When she first realized this, the flame-haired girl asked the Crimson God within her in astonishment, "So Torches can actually turn back into humans?"
Alastor was silent for a long moment before replying solemnly, "Theoretically, if there's enough [Power of Existence], even a Torch devoured down to mere remnants could be restored into a human... but simply returning the stolen Power isn't enough. The process consumes a tremendous amount just to repair their existence. No one would do something so foolish."
"But..."
"That one is an existence similar to us—like us, she embodies certain rules. That's probably how she can achieve something so inconceivable."
Nitocris, too, was a "god." Alastor had never hidden this from the girl.
Moreover, based on Nitocris's actions these past weeks, Alastor had developed a theory regarding her identity...
"A pillar of humanity, a god who belongs entirely to humans...?"
If he thought in this direction, all her actions suddenly made sense.
Why she slaughtered Denizens who threatened humanity.
Why she wasted [Power of Existence] to save seemingly unrelated humans.
Yet there was one thing Alastor couldn't fathom—
"If she is truly a deity guarding humanity and the world, why appear only now? Why not thousands of years ago? Why let Denizens ravage the world to this extent?"
He truly wanted to ask Nitocris about this.
At the same time, deep unease troubled him...
"Could this human god possibly harbor resentment toward the Crimson Realm because of the Denizens' atrocities over the millennia? Might she seek total annihilation of everything from the Crimson Realm?"
Precisely because he clearly understood what devastation Crimson Denizens had wrought upon this world, Alastor was deeply worried.
He couldn't deny that, even if this god intended vengeance upon the Crimson Realm, humanity had every right and reason to despise it. Humanity had always been the victim.
But as the God of Retribution, the guardian of balance, Alastor absolutely wouldn't allow such an outcome. Whether it was the destruction of humanity or the Crimson Realm, it would disrupt the world's balance.
Currently, there were many Torches in this city. Although unsure if the Denizen responsible was still present, both Alastor and the flame-haired girl were certain Nitocris would come here eventually—the only uncertainty was when.
"So, Alastor, what should we do next?"
"Hm... Until that god reveals herself, we won't sense any trace of her. For now, let's proceed according to our original plan. Check this city for any traces of Denizens. No matter the situation with that god, we can't leave these vermin unchecked."
And so, the girl vanished from the rooftop, appearing instead on the street below.
Her flaming hair, like rippling fire, had become an inconspicuous black. To avoid drawing attention, she had returned to her everyday form.
It was only five in the morning, and the usually bustling street still lingered in lead-gray silence. Last night's rain had stained the asphalt a dull bronze, and puddles reflected the still-dim sky.
On the corner, a bakery had already opened. Warm amber light quietly spilled out through the windows, baking a gentle halo on the damp road. From within, a sudden gust blew outward, carrying the sweet, caramelized aroma unique to butter and yeast. Like an invisible ribbon, it snaked through the door's gap, quietly curling around the girl's ankles, gently tugging at her heartstrings.
"So fragrant..."
The girl pressed herself against the bakery's display window, dark, soulful eyes fixated upon the melon bread inside. She could almost hear her own throat gulping—like distant tides endlessly battering against her empty stomach.
Finding that god was important.
Hunting Crimson Denizens was also important.
But... delicious, sweet melon bread is tempting me right now! This, this, this...
Oh dear, I didn't want it at first, but the melon bread jumped into my hands on its own, begging me to eat it. How can I refuse? It's not like I can just throw it away, right? Poor melon bread just wants me to eat it—what's its fault? What's my fault?
B-besides... I'll have the strength to find people only if I'm full, right?
The girl continuously persuaded herself with these excuses, allowing herself to savor the melon bread guilt-free.
...
There was a museum in this city, quite renowned.
Inside, the air conditioning was always set very low. Visitors, upon entering, would inevitably feel uncomfortable, instinctively pulling their clothes tighter around themselves, trying to dispel the chill.
The interior was quiet—so quiet that you could hear your own footsteps. Everyone seemed to share an unspoken understanding, lowering their voices, unwilling to disturb the ancient artifacts sleeping silently within their glass cases.
In one of these cabinets rested an artifact excavated from Egypt—a beautiful golden ring inlaid with lapis lazuli, carved meticulously into the shape of the Eye of Horus.
Standing before this particular display case was a figure—an elderly gentleman, straight-backed despite leaning lightly on his cane, his hair and beard neatly trimmed and grayish-white, his hands gloved in white, impeccably dressed in a suit.
The elderly gentleman stood silently, carefully examining the artifact, then abruptly spoke.
"Lately, a rather intriguing rumor has spread widely among the Crimson Denizens."
"Supposedly, a mysterious and immensely powerful madman suddenly appeared recently. He's mainly active in Japan. Whenever he encounters Crimson Denizens causing severe damage to human cities, no matter how powerful they are, he annihilates them without mercy—devouring them. Even mighty Crimson Lords are wiped out in mere moments. On top of that, he's apparently turning Torches back into ordinary humans."
"Some say it's another special Mystes appearing, similar to the legendary Tenmoku Ikko, wielding a special [Treasure Tool], killing Denizens while rescuing people."
"Others speculate a Flame Haze stumbled upon an extraordinarily powerful [Treasure Tool], because only Flame Hazes would obsess so much over Denizens harming humanity."
"And still others claim that the one who obtained this powerful [Treasure Tool] is actually a Crimson Denizen, and those disappearing Torches haven't turned human at all—they've simply been devoured. They theorize this [Treasure Tool] grants immense power but demands devouring massive amounts of existence from Denizens and Torches, ineffective on humans."
"Of course, most Denizens scoff at such a rumor, dismissing it completely as absurd nonsense, thinking it might just be some prank by a bored individual. After all, such people appear frequently, whether among Denizens or humans."
His relaxed tone was more suited to casual conversation with a close acquaintance—not within this chilly, lifeless museum, but rather on a sunlit balcony in the warmth of an afternoon, accompanied by steaming hot tea and delicate pastries.
"So, personally, which theory do you favor?"
From behind the elderly gentleman came a voice, indifferent and cold, as if casting him into a night-covered desert, slowly robbing him of warmth and breath.
Yet the elderly gentleman's expression didn't waver in the slightest.
"Me? I favor none of them. Only upon seeing you in person did I become certain of the actual truth."
Slowly turning around, he inclined his body slightly toward Nitocris, bowing gracefully and impeccably.
"It is truly an honor to meet you, O God of Humanity."
The other museum visitors seemed separated from them by an invisible wall. Not noticing their peculiar behavior, people walked past them one after another without a glance.
Nitocris stared deeply at the elder before her. After a moment of silence, she spoke slowly.
"I've been pondering exactly how to judge you, 'Corpse Retriever' Lamies… or should I say, 'Spiral Organ' Leanan-sidhe?"
"…As expected, though this small trick may deceive even powerful Crimson Lords and Flame Hazes, it can't fool a true god, can it?"
This elderly gentleman before her was a Crimson Denizen known as "Corpse Retriever" Lamies. Unlike others who recklessly devoured humans, Lamies only scavenged from remains. He gathered only those Torches left behind, those about to disappear completely—thus earning him nicknames like "Corpse Retriever" or "Scavenger."
But the so-called "Corpse Retriever" never truly existed from the very start. This identity was merely a façade—a Torch manipulated by her. Her true identity was actually the world's strongest Unrestricted Spell Master: the "Spiral Organ," Leanan-sidhe.
"You've always targeted only the Torches nearing their end, in order to preserve the world's balance and avoid antagonizing Flame Hazes. In your eyes, these leftover Torches are just scraps—tools for cushioning the shock. Compared to other Crimson Denizens, your actions could indeed be considered 'benevolent'… But to me, those Torches are humans. Your deeds are unquestionably sinful—only slightly less severe than other Denizens."
Facing Nitocris's severe accusation, Leanan-sidhe offered no rebuttal. She knew very well that some lies might deceive oneself but never a genuine god.
Perhaps seeing Leanan-sidhe's sincerity, Nitocris's voice softened slightly.
"Even the lightest sin remains a sin. I will grant you judgment accordingly. But naturally, to properly carry out this judgment, we first need to tidy up our surroundings and create an adequately quiet and orderly environment for trial. Hmm… to put it plainly, we need to deal with the trouble we each attracted."
Beneath her pale bangs, Nitocris's eyes blazed like molten gold forged by a blazing sun, divine fire burning deep within, almost impossible to meet head-on.
"Two Flame Hazes, two Crimson Denizens, and even a Crimson Lord accompanying them… Quite a grand gathering we have here."
---
bonus chaps
100 stones -> 1 chapter
200 stones -> 2 chapters
300 stones -> 3 chapters
and so on
discord.gg/wisetl
patreon.com/wisetl