At Rem's breathless cry, Ron—who'd been drinking and watching the show—nearly sprayed liquor across the bar.
Why did that… sound wrong?
Very wrong.
Trying to break the tension, Lucoa chuckled.
"I once saw a human-world ad for an outlet. Wouldn't let you plug it in no matter what.
But once it's in—won't let you pull it out."
She nudged Tohru. "Same idea, right?"
Tohru gave a stiff little nod. Clearly not her area of expertise.
Ron cleared his throat and, with mock solemnity, recited,
"A jade dragon ventures through a shadowed vale;
her brows knit lightly, lips hum soft and pale."
Lucoa blinked, then narrowed her eyes at him, catching on a beat later.
"So moist. So very moist," she purred. "Care to… test the theory tonight?"
"Tiger tank, can't hold, can't hold…" Ron coughed into his fist and changed the subject hard.
"Tohru, I can give it a try. But if I pull it out—the sword's mine."
If a blade could impress even Lucoa, it had to be worth having.
"As you wish," Tohru said, face unreadable.
In her heart, she'd already accepted death. No human could possibly succeed—let alone one who felt no reverence for the divine.
Ron smiled from behind the counter and, in the next instant, stood beside Rem and Ram.
"Leave it to me," he said lightly.
The twins nodded in unison. "Master will definitely pull it free."
Ron ruffled their hair, set his hands on the hilt—and pulled.
Pain exploded across Tohru's back.
Bit by bit, the divine blade slid out, its edge rasping against bone with a teeth-aching scrape.
Crrr—k—
Blue veins stood out on Ron's forearms. He barked a single word: "Up!"
Clang!
The sword hit the floor, revealed at last in its full, terrible splendor.
Tohru exhaled a long, shaking breath, surprise bright in her eyes.
She hadn't believed it possible—yet here it was.
"Thank you. Without you, I wouldn't have lasted a few more days."
"No need," Ron waved her off. "Deal's a deal—the sword's mine."
He bent to pick it up—
—but light flared over the blade's surface.
A failsafe, cast by the Gods themselves: if Tohru died—or if the sword were drawn—it would return to the heavens at once.
Just as it began to fade, Lucoa snapped her fingers with a lazy smile.
"You've come all the way to this world. No need to rush back~"
The glow snuffed out. The seal unraveled.
"If not for me, that sword was gone," Lucoa said, handing it to Ron with open expectation.
"How will you thank me?"
"With steadfast… action," Ron said, face virtuous.
Lucoa's eyes lit up.
Ron turned, mounted the divine sword on the wall beside "Ace," and stepped back.
In an instant, even a Supreme Grade blade—the highest class among this world's famous swords—seemed dull in comparison.
Supreme Grades were peerless for edge and durability, and constant Haki coating could raise them further still.
But this divine sword was another matter entirely.
Not only was it several times larger, its aura alone commanded awe.
A pity it was… unwieldy. Far too big to handle comfortably.
System, how many points for this sword? Ron asked inwardly.
[Ding. Divine Sword may be exchanged for 5,000 points.]
His heart leapt.
A big score—Doflamingo deals rarely cleared 1,000 in profit.
With 5,000 in hand, the catalog finally opened up: Time Gem, Ancient Giant Lineage, Hōgyoku, Shikon Jewel…
All five figures and up. Until now, he'd had to barter through tavern trades.
"Tohru, do you plan to stay like this?" Lucoa asked gently.
Tohru hesitated, then nodded.
A red magic circle inscribed with countless sigils flared beneath her claws.
Radiance washed the room—and the great green dragon shrank into a blonde girl.
Horns, tail, and wings remained, but her form was otherwise human.
She was adorable—soft-featured and doll-like—but her face held no expression, the classic ice-princess mask.
Red-gold eyes flickered now and then with a shadow of sorrow.
A black cloak draped her shoulders, doing little to hide her striking figure.
Rem and Ram glanced over—and felt a pang of defeat.
Why were dragonfolk always… that gifted?
"The drink is good," Tohru said softly, setting down her bottle. "Another."
Ron nodded and passed one over.
"Still hate humans?" Lucoa asked, fingers threading gently through Tohru's hair.
"Father said humans are a blight," Tohru replied flatly. "They should be culled."
Contempt for humanity seemed woven into dragon blood.
Even so, when her gaze slipped to Rem, Ram, and Ron, it softened.
They had, after all, saved her life.
Lucoa sighed. "You say that because you carry the burden of being the End Emperor's daughter."
"He gave you freedom—to choose how to live. In that freedom, you saw much, suffered much…"
"And in the end… you lost control."
Tohru didn't answer. She only nodded and drank—one cup after another.
The End Emperor had given her freedom.
But wandering between worlds, Tohru had seen human wars and schemes.
Resentment toward humanity grew—and hatred of war even more so.
To end the conflict between the Chaos Faction and the Concord Faction of the Gods,
Tohru chose the most direct—and most extreme—path: Godslaying.
She failed. Barely escaped with her life.
"Do you like freedom?" Ron asked quietly, speaking for the first time in a while.
Tohru blinked—then shook her head. "No."
Freedom had been her father's gift.
Its price was solitude—from the beginning to the bitter end.
Her mask cracked. Tears gathered, trembling on her lashes.
"When it finally hit me that I was truly alone… I realized I couldn't change anything."
"I don't like freedom. Alone and 'free,' I found I had nothing to do. Being alone… being free… is frightening."
Fat tears rolled down her pale cheeks.
Those words had risen unbidden the moment the blade left her body.
From start to finish, she had walked alone.
Lucoa stroked her hair. "Then do what I did—stay here for a while."
"This tavern is interesting. Meet people. See things you haven't before."
"Trust me—you'll grow."
Ron: "…"
Divine assist!
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