Chapter 570 – Yoshino Somei (10)

In the center of the grand battlefield, two spirits cross blades in a test of might.

-Ching, ching!!

The spirit I’ve summoned this time is the soldier nymph, a being with whom I fostered a profound bond at the second gate. As I channel my magic into her, she overwhelms the foe with her power.

[Haap!]

‘Now.’

At the moment the soldier nymph musters her strength to quicken her pace, I tug on our connection, sending a ripple of magic through it.

-Hummmm!

The soldier nymph I command picks up speed. Within the blink of an eye, she seizes control of the opposing spirit’s rear, driving the tip of her spear into their neck.

– The impact is phenomenal!

Were this a game, such a description would surely appear on the screen. Venice, who had been observing the skirmish next to me, takes off her sunglasses – I didn’t notice her put them on – and lets out a whistle of admiration.

“How about that?”
“Wow… You’re quite good at this now. Impressive!”

The praise feels lukewarm, like I’m being patronized. To be honest, getting to this stage felt a bit too easy.

It started with the rampage of the shadow panther. I grew stronger with each intake of magic, and devoured the opponent’s rabbit as a show of power, scoring the first point.

Though the outcome was favorable, it was hardly a measure of a true spirit conjurer’s abilities. In the following match, my inexperience emerged as a problem, creating numerous difficulties.
However, as I went through the third and fourth matches, I could feel my skill in manipulating spirits gradually improving.

‘The efficiency varies wildly depending on when and how much magic is channeled….’

Only experience and a deep connection can fill this gap. The important thing is to sync your heart with the spirit. You can’t be too desperate, nor too complacent.
Much like playing a rhythm game where you hit tiles in time with the music, the art of spirit manipulation requires one to immerse themselves halfway in the flow of the subconscious.

“Wow~ So?”
“What do you mean by ‘so’… Why?”
“When’s the next story? I’ve been waiting for a while now.”

Venice, lounging on a deck chair one would expect to see on the beach, crosses her legs.

Does it make sense to start a spirit brawl and then sit back and relax?

“Haha, isn’t the essence of travel, of course, conversation?”
“They say that getting old makes you talk a lot…”

I squeeze into the chair where Venice is seated. Venice attempts to shake me off by wriggling her hips.

“Shoo, shoo.”
“Ugh…”

In the end, she has no choice but to concede half of the chair due to my insistence. To maintain her precarious balance, she places her heels on my lower body, wrapping her thighs around me.
It’s only once she fully embraces me that she can precariously balance herself.

“Why don’t you just make another chair?”
“It’s natural to covet what others have. It’s normal for friends to behave this way.”
“Behave like this, you say? Hmm~”

Venice’s audacious hand makes its way into my trousers.

“Ugh!”

A natural progression to a ticklish self-pleasure. Venice, fondling my testicles gently, left a kiss on my cheek and chuckled in delight.

“Tell me the next story quick.”

“In this state?”

“If you’re not up for it, it’s alright to finish deep within my backside.”

“…Which tale intrigues you?”

“Hmm, how about a love story this time?”

“I’m not inclined to delve into romantic tales while engaged in these activities.”

When Venice pouted and asked, I rolled my eyes at her, and she reluctantly withdrew her hand from my trousers.

“Heh, heh.”

I decided not to comment on her habitual scent seeking.

Lovers’ narratives were a topic we had explored several times before. I relayed the stories I had been keeping to myself to Venice, one by one.

“Aha.”

She expressed admiration at some parts,

“…Oh, dear.”

and at times, she seemed more regretful than I.

She commended my determination when I had to forcefully rescue Cornus. However, she found my decision to fake death somewhat incomprehensible. Despite this, Venice smiled, stating that she respected my choices and that the outcome had been favourable.

“So, nearly a disaster?”

“Seems so.”

“The fallout with that mentor of yours. The more I think about it, the more it seems like it happened due to both of you caring for each other too much. Couldn’t there have been a better way?”

Initially, I had thought the same. However, upon reflection, it seemed that was the best course of action. That was the conclusion I reached after recounting my numerous failures.

“Is that so?”

Even so, there remains a slight awkwardness between my mentor and me due to that incident. Upon hearing my words, Venice chuckled and gently stroked my abs.

“Why are you caressing?”

“No reason.”

“What?”

“Elf hands are healing hands.”

Venice blabbered nonsensically, her laughter resounding. My initially bitter and slightly painful abdomen gradually felt better.

“But you know, you seem to have an odd relationship with that female mentor of yours.”

“…Perhaps.”

“The only unrequited love at this point… Why not reveal the truth?”

“Reveal the truth?”

“That you were her past crush. Even if she doesn’t believe it, you’re a significantly precious male to her. There must be a way to persuade her to come around.”

“I mentioned that earlier.”

Heaven is clearly in love with her childhood acquaintance. That mournful love is still etched deep within her heart, even after losing her memory, causing her to vehemently reject any man who approaches her.

Unintentionally, I found myself being held back by my past self.

“My love is for my mentor, Heaven.”

Even if the memories of the past return, I wish there would be no change in my relationship with my mentor.

That individual has been my lifelong benefactor, my life’s counselor, and simultaneously, a guide. They’re akin to a deity I worship.

“…Is that the extent of it?”
“Indeed, that’s the extent.”

Resurrecting that relationship from the past wouldn’t be entirely unfavorable. Yet candidly, I no longer wished to be labeled as the ‘executioner’ by Heaven.

I had perpetually craved the sharp voice of that individual reprimanding their disciples, and the gentle touch of their broad hand stroking my head.

“We can’t afford to jumble our lineage.”

That was a consideration. There was no necessity to intensify my bond with Heaven at present. I was still preoccupied.

“Hmm, that’s rather romantic.”
“Is this romantic?”
“…Being selfish in love signifies sincerity in love. To my eyes, which have withered over thousands of years, you appear an endearing male.”

Her elongated elf ears flickered, and Venice nestled her cheek against my shoulder.

“Hehehe.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“Just, it amuses me. This male, declaring such romantic love… it reminds me of how you consumed me atop your stature. As a female, my pride seems to be somewhat invigorated.”
“…….”

Venice brought her lips as near to my ears as possible. She nipped my earlobe, planted a kiss, and then spoke in a solemn tone.

“Once you step out of here, crash into that female with absolute sincerity.”
“…….”
“This is friendly advice. Your current attitude is too indecisive to realize your desires.”
“Then what?”
“Confess your love. Pounce. Regardless of her being your mentor, remind her she is the female beneath the massive and superior male.”

The statement seemed peculiar.

“That’s what it means, you oblivious fool.”
“……?”
“Do so, and crush your past self. If you transform into a disciple who has overcome their mentor…”

Even if my memory returns later, Heaven would remember me as a pitiful disciple, not a magnificent executioner.

Venice, more than anyone, understood my desires. Sharing certain emotions, it felt as though I had found a confidant with a truly matching spirit. I wondered if the humans and spirits of ancient times felt the same. Our relationship could not veer off course. Regardless of our vertical relationship of dependence, we were seated on the same horizon, facing each other.

Venice, stretching her chest, yawned lazily. She rubbed her moist eyes, and in a playful voice, she queried,

“…Shall we next discuss your daughter?”

Venice’s chatter seemed to have no foreseeable end.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I had successfully secured six consecutive victories in the spirit competition, the temple guided us to the location of the massive stone slab.

The array of countless glyphs etched onto the stone slab defied interpretation through my linguistic knowledge. I sought assistance from Venice.

“Decipher? It can be done.”

Venice, a woman weathered from living millennia, promptly began to read the stone slab.

“…I shan’t read this. Simply.”

Whether she had glimpsed into the depths of my thoughts, her energy faltered instantaneously, and she grew peevish. Only after placating her for half a minute was I finally able to receive the information from the slab.

“Regarding the dispute between spirits and humans…”

=====

For thousands of years, the world has been split by the formidable power of the grand tree, Methuselah.

Our progenitor desired universal peace and happiness, and thus, he sacrificed his own life. The leader of the spirits tore apart our father’s body to create their own progeny. The powerless spirits could subsist without deficiency, borrowing the strength of our father.

Though the spirits severed the dimension, they refrained from any interaction with the World Tree. However, humans residing in the habitat of the World Tree were a different matter.

Humans and spirits, bound by interconnected souls, often encountered each other due to magnetic attraction, despite being from different dimensions. Humans persistently yearned for the power of the spirits.

However, some avaricious swine frequently exploited the power of the spirits. Exhausted from the previous wars and unjust violence, the spirits punctured the dimensional gap and began their onslaught on humanity.

The calamity following the mass extinction was the war between humans and spirits.

The World Tree forged its own dimension and discarded the ‘Glaive’. Only a handful of trees and humans remained on the land. Even though all nations rallied together to overthrow the spirits, they could not last long due to vested interests’ discord and chaos. Moreover, even the remaining forces lacked sufficient strength to expel the burgeoning spirits.

Many mourned the loss of their loved ones, and children dashed across the burning fields in search of their severed hands.

At the heart of such turmoil, a girl who had lost her family in a nondescript agrarian village encountered a spirit.

The girl, named ‘Abbi’, had delicate skin and a pure heart.

=====

“It says.”

After reading all the narratives etched on the stone, Venice conjured water through magic to soothe her parched throat. I perched on a stone chair nearby, mulling over the myth Venice had narrated.

“The tale of the war is recorded here.”
“Ah, it seems so.”

I responded to Venice’s words. The dungeon, built to prevent the repetition of the war, seemed to be narrating the same war inscribed on this stone slab.

‘Abbi.’

The spirit magician I had been seeking was right here.

‘The pieces of the puzzle are falling into place.’

I remembered the advice Eleanor and Lucy gave me to find the spirit magician’s dungeon. At the heart of that spirit, one could find the remains of Abbi. Through this, one could meet the queen of the spirits.

And if she possessed the queen’s strength, she would undoubtedly be a formidable adversary for me.

As I breathed life into the ridiculous legend, the outline began to materialize.

“You seem to know something.”

“Indeed. The woman spoken of here, named Abi, is my target.”

“A woman… Are you considering…?”

“If she possesses a human form, I would attempt to exploit that to maximize my potential… But my objective is beyond that.”

The queen, a spirit wielded by this Abi.
Upon hearing my words, Venice’s eyes widened in surprise.

“That sounds intriguing.”

“Doesn’t it disturb you?”

“Not at all? Quite the contrary. Ravish her like a beast, so crudely that even if she weeps and pleads, her cunt will be ablaze.”

“…”

“Fill her ass, her mouth, and her hands too.”

Her words were brutal.
After all, from Venice’s perspective, Abi and the Queen were the main instigators of her current condition.
Would an elf, rational despite having faced death for thousands of years, fail to distinguish her enemy?

“However…”

Venice held her rampant words at bay, crossed her arms, and scanned the story etched onto the stone tablet with her eyes.

“There might be room for a fair judgment. Let’s search for the next part of the tale.”

The transgressions committed by Abi are not yet revealed here.
A hero emerging from chaos. That’s likely the narrative. But that’s only the worldly perspective.
Venice, possessing a more fiery temperament than anticipated, seemed poised for a spectacular reaction in the future.