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The Great Temple of Flimslat. The Sorceress’ breath covered the inside of the temple. Her breath fully depicted the human species.
Her breath enveloped the air while a surrounding flame formed a shape. The flame transformed into a serpent crawling through the air. At the same time as the sparks scattered, the black eyes of Filaret La Volgograd flickered.
For a moment, Filaret did not know what happened to her vision. It took a few seconds for her to see the existence of that flame serpent that had invoked from her fingertips.
Her spinal cord wriggled and screamed, moving Filaret’s entire body.
Her throat was so dry that it felt like it had been stuffed with a lot of sand, and no amount of saliva seemed to clean it. Only the unexplainable impatience and turbidity of emotions filling her heart were overflowing.
A cold breath escaped from her lips. Over and over again, breath was born in her mouth and flew in the air.
Her black eyes were looking at the golden-eyed saint that stood in front of her wobbly vision. “That’s right, that woman certainly spoke those strange words.”
…Because me and Lugis…we’ve been childhood friends since we were born.
Those words remained in her skull like poison, and the flame serpent crawling out of her fingers raised its fangs at the saint almost at the same time. The blazing heat and its sparks bit the saint’s blaspheme words.
In the meantime, Filaret could feel an indescribable storm of unexplainable emotions enveloping her heart. Her cheeks quivered and her molars gritted hard.
She did not know what to think, much less what to say.
“The saint said she was his childhood friend. That’s why I’m having these feelings.”
“Just by being together from an early age, does it mean that she has the right of possession? That’s ridiculous. Such a thing doesn’t matter. There’s no point in getting angry because of it. Yes, that’s a very irrational thought. There’s no way I’ll accept it.”
However, there was also a feeling that rose up from the bottom of Filaret’s feet that was the opposite of her rationality.
It was so ugly and unspeakable.
Jealousy was piercing her heart. The saint had known him long before Filaret had known him, and spent way more time with him than she ever spent. The saint shared her thoughts with him and he shared his with her. Filaret felt envious of that. Her dark feeling appeared in the back of her chest and made her feel nauseous.
Filaret sensed her viscera having cramps.
“However, just like that emotion, there was one more thing in my heart. I think it would be even uglier than any other emotion.”
It was the taste of relief that her jealousy and envy had been driven away with her own magic. Filaret lowered her eyes while letting her black hair bounce in the air. Her rough breath still did not return. However, a little calmness returned to her heart.
Unlike adventurers who wielded swords and spears, sorceresses and wizards did not naturally use their techniques. There weren’t many of them to begin with, and most of them were way too difficult to invoke. However, there was a bigger reason.
If the sorceress or wizard’s magic nature clashed, one would surely die.
The magic nature was not easy to wield. No miracle would happen to save a lost life, and no one could easily take that risk. When it came to sorceresses and wizards, that threat was like walking in layers of poisonous herbs.
For that reason, there were nations and races that hated the wielders of magic, and on the other hand, there were also other nations that actively possessed them as a force of arms.
It was like an ongoing duel where such threats faced each other and lives perished on a daily basis. Which one invoked the magic first and which one bit the opponent’s throat first? Each day could be their last day alive.
That’s why the confrontation between wielders of magic often began with a conversation. In order to find a gap in the opponent defense, and distort the spirit of the opponent even a little, all was necessary to gain an advantage.
Filaret controlled her rough breath and lowered her chest. Her shoulders were still shaking up and down.
“When I thought about it calmly, the words Ariene said might have been to upset me. No, she probably wants me to believe in her words. It’s not possible for a Hero of the Heraldic Order and a Saint of the Great Holy Church to have old connections.”
“This is not a knight’s tale. Even the tales of common people have more credibility. Surely those words must have been meant to shake my feet and make me vomit in confusion.”
“Besides, even if Saint Ariene and Lugis were childhood friends, why would she talk about it?”
Filaret shook her long eyelashes and narrowed her eyes. Beyond her sight, she could see the flames converging as they stirred.
The fact that the saint and the great evil have had a connection since childhood was something that the Great Holy Church would want to cover up more than anything else. There was no way that the saint, who was the person in question, would be happy to talk about it.
It was a lie after all. It should be. Filaret concluded so on her own chest. It was like talking to herself.
Besides, those facts disappeared in the flames. Filaret didn’t have to think about it anymore. She slowly rang her teeth as she caught the shining sparks in the corner of her vision.
It was at that moment.
“…I could see the gold in those flames. It had a dazzling majesty while illuminating the surroundings with its dignified appearance.”
At the same time, something that could hardly be called a voice hit Filaret’s earlobes. It was as if the sound was playing like a song.
「…You have a wonderful talent. But I want you to stop, because I can be a coward sometimes. This kind of violence is scary, you know.」
While that voice echoed, its sound waves touched the storm of violent flames with a delicate touch as if it were touching glasswork. The flame serpent created by Filaret and fully kneaded with magical power lost its strength. Its neck was grabbed by thin fingers that looked weak.
It was a strange spectacle. Filaret’s lustrous black eyes reflected that spectacle as if they were frozen.
The hands of the human called saint lightly grabbed the serpent made of magical power with her bare skin.
It didn’t look very real. Magic was a powerful energy that shouldn’t be deal with such an ease.
Even a small child knew that one mustn’t touch another person’s magical power with their own hands.
Before she knew it, something sweaty was flowing on Filaret’s forehead. It licked her cheeks, bringing a cold feeling.
「I was kidding; besides, this sort of violence is useless. This is formal magic, isn’t it? There’s no way that something I’ve created will hurt me, don’t you agree?」
Filaret twisted her lips upon hearing that lighthearted sound.
What was happening? Why couldn’t Filaret speak? Because there was only one word floating in Filaret’s head right now.
Clear death.
A duel between wielders of magic, at its core, was how to prevent the opponent’s magic from working.
Now the enemy had consumed her magic before her very eyes, leaving Filaret empty-handed. Without the power to invoke magic, the match could end in the blink of an eye. As a result, she would die and the other party would survive.
There was no time to knead her magical power again, nor the interval to spit out her breath. Even if she tried to do it, the enemy would never allow it.
It was over. Inescapable death was here. Filaret’s own god of death was now standing in front of her.
That was the only thing Filaret captured. Even the cleverest mind would not think of a solution to save one’s life. The white finger called death caressed her skull.
The god of death said with a grin.
「I told you, Filaret La Volgograd. You can rest assured. I will give you salvation. I will definitely fill you up with happiness.」
The list of sounds professed by the god of death caused convulsions just by listening to it, and Filaret’s throat seemed to distort. Fear seemed to permeate her entire body.
Then, Filaret had an intuition at the same time. This one in front of her was not the saint.
This person was not the woman who called herself Ariene. It was something completely different. It was something getting closer to her by taking a step forward.
Filaret’s legs didn’t seem to move at all. It wasn’t as if she was paralyzed by fear, or that she had lost all her strength.
She just couldn’t move, as if she was frozen.
「It’s meaningless, since you cannot defy fate. Yes, even if you’re a hero.」
In the meantime, the god of death got closer. Her golden eyes, her golden hair, and even her facial expression belonged to the holy maiden named Ariene.
However, her voice and atmosphere were different, as if painted over by something else. It was all very strange and made one feel uncomfortable.
「Oh, that’s right, speaking of which, it was nice to meet you. Let’s introduce ourselves, Filaret La Volgograd.」
Filaret could feel something tangling around her earlobes. Her brain told her not to hear that voice, but she couldn’t avoid it but hear it.
「…I am the Divine Spirit Altius and I will give you absolute happiness. 」
Then, Filaret saw that thin, good-looking finger touching her cheek.
On that moment, she could see that something shook her vision.