Chapter 317

"So he's still tangled up with Minerva, is that right?"

Landschi nodded quietly at Milited's question.

As always, he sifted out the most important things from everything he had seen, heard, and considered, and reported each one to his master in full.

"Yes. It almost looked as if he was teaching Minerva something."

"Hah!"

Milited burst out laughing as if the idea were beyond absurd.

"That Minerva — bearing the name of an ancient goddess of wisdom — begging a human for instruction? That Minerva?"

"……"

"If anyone else had spat out a joke that worthless, I'd have torn their mouth open. And I know you'd never make such a tasteless joke at my expense…"

"You honor me."

"A passing whim, perhaps? It'll throw the schedule off a little, but…"

It shrugged its shoulders.

"Well, no matter. If she wants to play house, I'm almost grateful for it. Mm, yes… Landschi."

"Yes, master."

"You let Juno and Venus catch wind of all this too, didn't you?"

"Of course."

He answered in his usual flat, even voice.

"While disposing of their subordinates, I let the information slip naturally. By now, both of them should be aware that Minerva is living alongside our target."

"Good. Flawless work, as always."

Milited's expression softened into a languid, satisfied smile.

"It has to look entirely as if they stumbled onto it by chance. …You understand what I mean? As far as anyone knows, we are the trusted allies of the man who carries the pendant. Nothing more."

Landschi bowed his head in silence, his answer steady as ever.

"Yes. I'll continue to carry it out without a single misstep."

"Good, good."

"Ah — there is one more thing I should report…"

"What now?"

For once, Landschi held his words back at Milited's question.

Unlike usual, Milited didn't press for an answer, giving him all the time he needed. Bowing his head in deep gratitude for his master's patience, he quietly opened his mouth.

"…I caught a faint trace of your essence on those two."

"My essence, you say?"

"Yes."

Landschi spoke quietly, but he was chewing on a still, simmering rage.

"Forgive my presumption, but if those two dared to lay hands on your sacred body during the chaos…"

"No, no."

Milited waved a hand dismissively.

Loyalty was a fine thing, but anything taken to blind extremes ruined the work it was meant to serve.

"I have my suspicions. It's not what you're thinking, so put it out of your mind."

At that, the energy that had been seething inside him went still in an instant.

Landschi asked no further questions and simply waited for his master's command.

"Go and see to your duties. I'll… need to remain here a while longer."

"Yes."

Only after Landschi had disappeared did Milited carefully lower itself into the chair and let out a breath.

If it hadn't met Ahriman a few days earlier, it might have jumped to the same conclusion Landschi had and worked itself into the same rage.

"……"

Ahriman.

The instant the name surfaced, its teeth ground together of their own accord.

The image of itself acting like Ahriman's puppet for those few days — however few — rose up so sharply that Milited nearly shot to its feet, and only just managed to hold itself in place.

'…His ability was stronger than I anticipated. Far stronger.'

Now was the time to bend.

As it had told Landschi, letting yourself be seized by something fierce was the surest way to ruin the work.

As for the trace of its own essence on those two, Milited had a rough idea of where it had come from.

A fragment of itself had likely been with them, and when Ahriman struck them down, its body must have shattered apart somewhere in the process.

In the chaos, splinters of itself had clung to the two of them — beings of considerable power in their own right.

At first it had been pleased, thinking pieces of itself had slipped neatly into their bodies. Then it noticed those pieces had been, quite literally, digested away — and the regret had cut deeper than expected.

'All I did was hand them a slice of my own power.'

The thought brought it back, again, to a stunned awe of Ahriman's ability.

Its venom — the toxin of a Seven Calamity — wasn't on Minerva's level, but it wasn't something to be taken lightly either.

An ordinary human who absorbed even the smallest trace would die many times over. Yet those two showed no sign of it whatsoever.

'There's no way they're both simply immune to my poison… it has to be Ahriman's doing.'

It exhaled again.

If that was the case, then it had performed nothing more than free volunteer work.

"Nothing to be done about it."

Milited chalked it up as the price of a painful blunder and let it go.

Once the churning in its chest had calmed, Milited drew in two long breaths and let a small smile shape its lips.

"So… what shall I do now?"

That side, with Minerva, could be left alone for a while.

Margo was on the other side of the continent, so it didn't need to worry about him, and Sbeungali's whereabouts were a complete mystery.

Probably entered a dormant cycle.

Venus and Juno had been silent since that day, but it was easy to see they were merely watching for an opening.

But still, it could tell.

The moment was almost here.

"Hmm…"

Milited reached up, took hold of the ornamental pin running through its hair, and pulled it free without hesitation.

Long, fine strands of hair spilled down like a waterfall — and the man, no, the woman now, lifted the pin with a slight smile.

Lodged in the tip of the pin was a shard of Juno.

A shard of Juno, meant to wrap itself around that man's throat.

[I simply cannot understand it.]

Minerva slammed her tail down with a low thud and muttered:

[Do you truly find that amusing…? I don't see it. Humor among humans is genuinely abstruse and difficult to grasp.]

"What — come on. You're really telling me that wasn't funny?"

That was supposed to be a knockout joke.

A faint thread of indignation slipped into my voice. Minerva snorted.

[It seems my inability to understand humans has never been entirely my own failing. You've just proved it to me all over again. To find amusement in such an oddity of a remark… humans, truly….]

She shook her head, still looking utterly baffled.

[That red-haired girl's wordplay was far more refined and entertaining. That is wordplay. What comes out of your mouth is no more than the squeaking of a field mouse.]

"……"

I closed my mouth, hit by an inexplicable sense of defeat.

Indifferent to my reaction, Minerva opened her jaws wide and let out a long yawn.

[Speaking of her, where on earth did that girl disappear to?]

"She's not 'that girl,' her name's Su-yeong…"

[For a mere human to have her name spoken by me, she's centuries too soon for that honor.]

I gave in to her unsoftened, prickly attitude and answered honestly.

"I told you she had things to take care of and we wouldn't be seeing her for a while. …She said it'd all be wrapped up around today, actually."

…The truth was, both Su-yeong and I knew it was just an excuse.

A week ago — after a spectacular drunken outburst — she'd deliberately started avoiding me.

The very next day she'd come to me saying she wanted to leave the cabin for a while to keep tabs on Venus and Juno.

I shot it down hard, of course, and she knew perfectly well how dangerous it was to put any distance between us right now, so she accepted my refusal without much fuss.

What I couldn't talk her out of was setting up barriers and protective wards all around the perimeter, just in case.

…The result was that for the past few days, she'd left at dawn and come home late at night, over and over again.

There was no way to read it as anything other than her not wanting to face me, but I just nodded and let it go.

I knew the drunken outburst wasn't the only reason she was avoiding me.

There had to be something she didn't want to tell me about.

She was at a sensitive age to begin with, and given the situation we were in, I figured she could use a little time to herself.

[I see.]

Minerva nodded as if she'd finally understood.

[Then once she's finished with this business of hers, she shall teach me one of those… nursery songs, was it?]

"What? I taught you a song just yesterday."

She fixed me with a long stare.

[What came out of your throat was nothing more than a pitiful, lamentable noise of wind. The one thing I'll grant it is that it inspired pity in me — for that alone, it deserves some credit.]

"……"

Minerva's tone carried a rare note of contempt, and I lost any words I might have had.

I already knew I couldn't sing, but having it confirmed this bluntly made it impossible to hide the gloom creeping back over me.

[I — I rather enjoyed your singing. Truly! I simply hadn't developed my ear back then!]

Minerva, still hidden inside the shadow, hurried to soothe me, but it was already too late.

With nowhere for my wounded pride to go, I mumbled:

"Look, that's why I told you I don't sing. I'm really, really bad at—"

I cut myself off and snapped my hand out.

In the same motion, the World Tree's Branch poured from my palm like a flood.

It swelled outward with explosive force, large enough to envelop me and Minerva both, and then collided with a torrent of murky liquid that had been bearing down on us, throwing off a sickening stench.

[…A useless gesture.]

Minerva muttered in a leisurely tone, as if she'd seen the whole thing coming.

[As if some petty trick like that could touch me.]

"Yeah, I know."

I swallowed the words but my body moved on its own and slowly drew the Branch back. Standing where the liquid had come from was a hulking man whose body looked half-human, half-fish.

"Venus sent him."

As I muttered it, I spotted a small child floating in the air at the man's side.

A horn was sprouting from the child's forehead, which made me certain it wasn't a human child.

[Well, well.]

Minerva sounded genuinely surprised.

[For the two of you to go to the trouble of crafting your own avatars and sending them out… and to see you standing side by side like the closest of friends, no less.]

"Shut your mouth, Minerva."

The hulking man opened his mouth, and to my surprise, a woman's voice flowed out of it — a voice that, even measured against Minerva's, lost nothing in beauty.

The difference was that where Minerva's voice was domineering and overpowering, this one felt languid and calm — almost lazily relaxed.

"Since you've so thoroughly forgotten yourself and begun making a fool of yourself, this Venus, knowing it to be rude, has come to call on you all the same. I even rushed to construct an avatar, as you say."

[If you knew it was rude, you might have stayed buried in the dark of the deep where you belong. What possessed you to drag that heavy belly of yours all the way out here?]

The hulking fish-man's expression soured at Minerva's words.

"As violent and discourteous as ever, I see."

[Ha. When have we ever exchanged pleasantries like dear old friends?]

Minerva snorted and fixed the two of them with a glare.

[Spit out whatever you came here to say and get out. In light of the trouble the two of you went to — and the shame you swallowed to send these avatars — I'll grant you the courtesy of listening.]

"……Shame…… is not………… for us…… to feel. ……You are the one…… who should feel it."

The child spoke in a slow, dragging voice that grated on the nerves.

The words hummed faintly in the ear, like a struck idiophone resonating from somewhere unseen.

[What did you say?]

"…Have the long, idle ages… dulled you? To see you living… like livestock being… reared — it shames even… those of us looking on."

The child continued in that quiet, humming voice.

"Don't squander…… this chance. Correct your error, your disgrace, your folly…… now, Minerva."

After hearing Venus and Juno out, Minerva spoke softly.

[Listening to you, I find you've grown remarkably free with your tongue.]

Her eyes had already shifted to a deep crimson.

[You barged into my duel, you fouled my name, you skulked around for an opening like a stray dog at a carcass — and you, Juno, dare to lecture me about shame?]

"I only… seek the most… efficient path."

[Oh, of course you do. How perfectly in character.]

The next instant, a breath erupted from her mouth and swallowed the child whole.

It happened in the blink of an eye.

— …You'll regret this. Minerva.

The voice droned through the air like a tremor running through heaven and earth, and then the child vanished without a trace.

Venus's avatar watched it happen without any visible reaction and shrugged.

"Well, I never expected you to take it gracefully to begin with. But Minerva — as you yourself said, in consideration of the trouble I went to in coming here… might I beg you to hear me out just a little longer?"

[……]

Minerva said nothing.

Taking the silence for consent, the fish-man bowed gracefully at the neck.

"…I have no intention of denying your accusations against Juno and me. You're right — we're here at Ahriman's instigation, after all. And it's true that the two of us joined hands in this unsightly way to pressure you, so there's no escaping the shame or insult of it."

[Then you should also know there's no reason for me to hear any more of your prattle, Venus.]

"Always so impatient… Very well. Since it seems we won't have much time to look at one another's faces, I'll get straight to the point, as you wish."

The fish-man shook his head, lips curling into something close to a sneer.

"Juno seems to have answered Ahriman's offer eagerly enough, but my position is a little different. Minerva… though I don't know what you'll make of it."

[Make of what? I know perfectly well that for all your pretty pretending, both of you bitches are dogs that come to heel when Ahriman whistles.]

"Crude as ever…."

The fish-man clicked his tongue and muttered under his breath.

"I responded to Ahriman's offer, Minerva, for the sake of the greater cause."

[The greater cause? Ha. The greater cause?]

"Yes."

The fish-man stared straight at Minerva as he spoke.

"You're aware, surely, that none of us are free from our duty as Seven Calamities. I judged that man's existence to be tied directly to that duty."

As he said it, Venus turned his gaze toward me.

In that instant I flinched, my body jerking without my permission.

It wasn't fear of the look itself.

[What…?]

[Wait — that just now, surely it can't be….]

Minerva and Sbeungali — the two of them inside me.

Both were so violently shaken that the tremor was bleeding through into me.

After a long, searching look, the fish-man drew his gaze away from me and spoke again.

"…And so, here and now, this Venus swears it on her own name. Until that human is dead, this Venus shall not return to sleep again."

[You — you can't be—!]

"Minerva, I'm serious. I may speak sparingly, but I don't speak nonsense — and ironically enough, no one knows that better than you, my old rival."

Venus regarded the rare flash of agitation on Minerva's face and went on.

"Set the old grudges aside and follow your duty as a Seven Calamity."

[Slippery-tongued as any fish, Venus. Why don't you stop circling and show your real face?]

The fish-man smiled at Minerva's jab.

"I'm not asking you to credit Juno or me with the deed. You can do it yourself, if you wish. If even that doesn't suit you, hand it off to someone else — that's just as well. Your convictions, your honor… I know them, I understand them, I respect them. But none of that weighs more than our existence — our purpose — as Seven Calamities."

"It sickens me to say this, but this Venus had come to grant Minerva a measure of recognition. If you continue to display this kind of foolishness, ruled by petty personal feeling…."

The fish-man's eyes split apart in an instant, dividing into dozens of pupils.

Every one of those gazes was fixed, without exception, on Minerva alone.

The eyes held only two emotions.

Rage.

And contempt.

"I shall no longer regard you as something that stands on the same plane as I do."

With that, the fish-man twisted his own neck and died.

In the wake of what felt like a storm tearing through the place, all I could do was watch the situation quietly unfold.

"Minerva, what he just said—"

[……As of today.]

Cutting me off, Minerva spoke quietly.

[Let the promise between us be undone.]

"What?"

There were still two weeks left on our agreement.

A week had passed.

And the count had stayed at two weeks the entire time.

[…And I shall not come to you again. See that you understand.]

"Wait — hold on. Hey. Minerva. Let me just talk to—kh?!"

Before I could finish, Minerva spread her wings and shot off into the distance.

She moved so fast that in the time it took me to blink, her form had already shrunk to a tiny dot.

"What the hell…."

In the middle of something so abrupt and absurd, I could only mutter under my breath.

"Are you kidding me right now—!"

Then, vomiting up an anger with no clear target, I tore off after her.

Some amount of time passed.

"…Ah."

Far from the cabin where Yu Ji-hyeok, Han Su-yeong, and Minerva had been staying — in a distant cave.

A frail voice slipped out of that cave.

"This is…?"

A woman with sleek, swaying black hair stared down at her own hand, unable to believe what she was seeing.

A slender hand, white as anything.

A human hand.

"What… is this…?"

Only moments before, she'd been in the form of a dragon. The woman murmured to herself, still struggling to believe it.