"No! Akira-sama, you can't!"
Lili's voice cracked with panic. Before she realized it, she had darted in front of Akira, arms outstretched as if her small frame could physically shield him.
Her eyes were wide, brimming with tears that she tried to blink away. This was no ordinary fear, it was a terror carved into her bones. She had seen too many people lose themselves to this so-called gift from the gods.
Her own parents had. And when she was only six years old, she had been forced to drink it during the Familia's trials. That day had shattered her mind. She had lived inside that swirling abyss, unable to breathe, until the torment finally spat her back out. The memory still made her stomach twist.
Now, staring at the small white bottle in Soma's hand, she could feel that same suffocating dread creeping in.
Akira, however, only looked at her, at the redness in her eyes, at the way she trembled, and felt a warmth bloom in his chest.
This girl…
His lips curved slightly. He reached out, placing a steadying hand on her shoulder, and gave it a gentle pat.
"It's alright." He said softly. "You don't need to worry."
It wasn't arrogance. After all, compared to the storms in his own mind, this so-called divine wine was little more than a ripple in a pond.
Elemental bomber's unending thirst for destruction…
Glacial master's cold detachment from emotion…
Blood mage's gnawing bloodlust…
Swift master's temptation to lose himself and dissolve into the wind…
Dimension walker's whispering madness that could unravel his mind…
These five legacies had nearly broken him. They had clawed at his soul, testing his will, pushing him toward collapse again and again.
But he had endured. He had tempered each flaw, beaten it down, and forged his will through countless trials. What remained were only faint echoes, lingering quirks, not crippling chains.
Compared to that, a little "magic wine" was nothing.
"Don't worry, Lili." He repeated, ruffling her hair. "This won't affect me."
And before she could stop him, Akira reached for the bottle in Soma's hand and downed it in one smooth motion.
Why did he even bother?
Simple. Soma had agreed to release Lili from the Familia without protest. It was only fair to drink in return.
The room fell into stunned silence.
Lili waited for the usual change in the consumer's eyes, the slackening of expression but nothing came.
Even Soma, hidden behind his long bangs, widened his eyes. His disbelief was almost palpable as he searched Akira's face for the smallest flicker of intoxication… and found nothing.
Lili could only blink, her fear melting into astonishment.
After a long pause, Soma turned away, almost invigorated. He walked back behind the counter, sweeping an old mortar aside and pulling out a new one. His fingers moved with purpose as he began mixing fresh herbs and plants, muttering under his breath.
"It should be stronger… the effect must be stronger…"
Akira didn't bother to comment. Instead, he turned and headed for the door, Lili following at his side.
Maybe it was the relief of finally leaving, or something else but the black haze of her childhood seemed a little lighter. Somewhere in the haze, she remembered a single scene, one cold night when she had been starving, Soma had silently handed her a few freshly fried potato balls.
It made her wonder…
Her parents had never raised her. Never even tried. So who had cared for her when she was too young to fend for herself?
The question sat heavily in her chest. She stopped and then bowed her head.
"…Thank you… for back then, Soma-sama."
Then she followed Akira to the door.
Sunlight spilled in through the nearby window, warm and almost blinding. Lili squinted against it, and felt hot tears prick her eyes.
It was the end of one chapter. A farewell to pain and, perhaps, to a sliver of warmth that had once existed.
She stepped outside, turned, and shut the door with a soft click.
From this moment forward, Liliruca Arde was Akira's supporter.
Inside, Soma's hands stilled for the briefest moment before resuming their steady work.
The scene shifted.
Somewhere far from the warmth of the sun, a guild staff slid a stethoscope into his coat, rose from his seat, and left the meeting hall as if nothing had happened. In truth, the information he carried was already racing through hidden channels.
Five hours later, deep in the shadows of a forgotten ruin, Olivas clenched a folded note and allowed a slow smile to curl across his lips.
Three days.
"The enemy's annihilation operation will be in three days." He announced to the figures gathered in the dim, oppressive chamber.
The faint outlines of bodies flickered in the darkness, their forms wrapped in writhing shadows.
"Hah! Well done." Valletta laughed, smacking her knees. "We really should thank those so-called 'believers' of Evilus."
Her plan had worked. After years of patience, her planted agent had finally delivered.
"I set this up five years ago." She said with a smirk. "Send a spy into the enemy's heart, leave them there, and when the time's right—" she snapped her fingers.
Vito cracked one eye open, its eerie gleam cutting through the gloom. "I didn't think you had the patience. You always struck me as… unconventional."
"Idiot." Valletta shot him a withering look. "A trump card is only worth something if you play it at the right time. Besides, Finn's sharp enough to trick even the gods. If you make a move under his nose, you'll be caught before you blink. That's why we work where their eyes can't follow."
There was a faint intoxication in Valletta's tone, like someone savoring a glass of fine wine that had been aged for decades. Her lips curled into a sly smile, but then, suddenly, her eyes sharpened and locked onto Vito.
"Speaking of which, where is your god?" She asked, her voice suddenly laced with coldness. "He's the one who started this plan. Don't tell me he's hiding away like a coward?"
Vito only gave a lazy shrug, his expression one of helplessness. "How should I know? He's a god, after all. Probably wandering around somewhere, doing whatever he pleases. You know how they are."
"Tch. The mastermind should be sitting on his throne with legs crossed, watching the chaos like a proper ruler…" Valletta scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Whatever."
Even with the feigned irritation in her words, there was still a smile on her face.
Valletta suddenly turned toward the darkness beyond, her voice ringing out like a declaration.
"The feast will be in three days. Get ready… my real trump cards."
Her words hung in the air, and from the deep shadows, two figures emerged, their long robes swaying with each step.
One was a towering, broad-shouldered man whose presence seemed to fill the space, making others instinctively look up to him. The other was a woman with flowing gray hair, her expression unreadable.
They were the same elusive figures that Orario's adventurers had been whispering about in caution for weeks.
"I don't care for trivial matters." Zald rumbled, his voice as deep and heavy as distant thunder. "Call me when the time comes. I only move when there's a battlefield worth stepping into."
His tone seemed to vibrate through the air, shaking the chest and rattling the internal organs of anyone nearby.
Vito's eyes lit up at the sound, and a strange, crooked smile stretched across his face. "Heh… just as I thought. A tyrant who can prove everything with a single sword. Truly, an existence beyond imagination."
He chuckled darkly. "It'd be a shame if you weren't there to crush that mangy dead king and those ridiculous clowns."
Valletta's grin, growing at Vito's words, was abruptly shattered by a voice that cut through the air.
"You're noisy."
(End of Chapter)
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