Repaying the Favor
“...I’ll kill them.”
Fortuna’s voice had gone cold and still. Even the midsummer warmth seemed to frost over at the sound of it.
Whirr—
The halo floating above her head began to spin, casting an eerie white light. The pure white wings at her back bristled, feathers standing on end as if voicing the fury in her heart.
She meant it.
She was genuinely ready to murder whoever had interrupted their moment.
“F-Fortuna. Calm down first.”
Jun gasped for breath as he tried to hold her back. Fortuna, who had been about to charge out that very second, puffed out both cheeks in open dissatisfaction and rounded on him.
“Why? Why are you stopping me? Aren’t you angry too, Jun?”
“Of course I’m angry. You know better than anyone how long I’ve been waiting for a day like this with you.”
“Then why?!”
“Let’s see what the situation is first. And don’t get so worked up. Even if that voice hadn’t interrupted us, we wouldn’t have been able to finish the act... ahem!”
Jun trailed off, looking thoroughly ashamed. Fortuna’s eyes went wide with panic as she groped at his lower half.
“Why?! Why would you say that?! Don’t tell me you’re impotent! Then what’s this hard thing?! Is it fake?!”
Jun’s face flushed scarlet, yet he shook his head with firm conviction.
“That’s mine, all right. And it works just fine.”
“Then why?! Why did you say we wouldn’t have been able to go through with it?! Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly decided you hate me? Is that it?”
Jun clamped his mouth shut, unable to bring himself to answer. In the end Fortuna’s eyes filled with tears as she seized him by the collar and began to shake him.
Dragged helplessly back and forth, Jun felt the urge to vomit rising all the way to his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and finally explained the reason for his silence.
“...dy.”
“What? What did you just say? Explain it properly!”
“Your body is so incredible my cores can’t handle it!”
“...Ah.”
Only then did Fortuna realize that Jun’s ragged breathing and flushed face had nothing to do with excitement.
“You’re in overload?”
Overload.
The stage beyond simple overheating, when a core was subjected to a load it could no longer bear. Continuing to force a core in that state would damage it and cause internal injuries; the only proper response was to give the core complete rest. Otherwise it could suffer permanent damage—or be lost forever.
“Yeah. Embarrassing as it is.”
Jun nodded. The instant he did, Fortuna snapped back into her fairy form. She immediately grabbed his lips and tugged them this way and that, scolding him.
“You should have said so right away! What’s there to be embarrassed about that you’d hide it?!”
“But—”
“No buts. Never do that again. Understood?”
Fortuna seized his face firmly and locked eyes with him. Her endlessly serious golden irises filled his entire field of vision. Captivated by eyes more beautiful than any jewel, Jun found himself nodding before he knew it.
“I never imagined the burden of my true form would be this severe. What am I supposed to do? I can’t hold back anymore.”
Until now she had deliberately looked the other way whenever desire stirred. Having finally faced it head-on, Fortuna no longer trusted herself to keep ignoring it or enduring it. Even now she felt ready to go mad with the need to burn her heated body pure white. If this continued, she was certain she would end up pouncing on Jun.
“...I’ll train even harder. And increase my intake of elixirs.”
Feeling her excitement and impatience traveling down the soul-bond, Jun lowered his head once more in shame. It wasn’t even his fault, yet somehow he couldn’t lift his gaze.
No—my cores being unable to handle her is the problem, so it is my fault, isn’t it?
Because of the balance patch, Fortuna required a constant amount of mana every second simply to remain in the mortal world. As she was treated as Jun’s summon, that mana had to come entirely from him. Thanks to his top-tier dual cores he had been able to sustain her fairy form with ease even as an infant. Even after growth upon growth, however, her angel form still maxed out at roughly five minutes. Far better than the days when he had slipped into overload after mere seconds as a baby, yet still nowhere near enough time for the act itself.
Father... so this is how you felt.
The image of his previous life’s father—who had hunted down anything good for the body with near-pathological zeal—rose in Jun’s mind. Now he finally understood why. The bitterness of already fretting over his physical condition before they had even managed the main event left a sour taste.
“Jun! Get out here already!”
“...Do we really have to go?”
“We do. We have to. My condition’s too bad right now.”
The distant voice belonged to Frank. His reason for calling Jun needed no guessing—he had clearly come for revenge over what happened in the clearing.
Why of all times...
Jun’s current state was the worst possible. Both cores had entered overload and ceased functioning; his body felt as drained as if he had exercised until collapse. The Heal holy art embedded in his Stigma and Fortuna’s various healing spells were rapidly improving his condition, yet restoring peak form still required more time. Frank had been thoroughly humiliated only a short while ago and would certainly have prepared carefully. Facing him in anything less than top condition meant defeat was all but guaranteed. A simple one-sided beating would have been tolerable, but the killing intent and ominous air Frank had shown after the clearing incident suggested it would not end with mere bruises.
“Tch. If I at least knew what he’d prepared I could counter it...”
With his magic core in overload, his spatial perception had also dropped. He could still sense roughly two meters out, but that was nowhere near enough to discern what Frank had brought.
“...Jun.”
While he fretted, Fortuna called his name with an uneasy expression. Anxiety bled into him as well, and he stammered a question.
“W-what is it?”
“Misfortune is piling up massively. We need to go right away.”
“Can’t you just detonate it before it gets bigger?”
“The source of the misfortune is over there, so no.”
Fortuna shook her head. In other words, they had to head that way before the misfortune grew any larger.
“Fortuna, hit me with every buff spell you’ve got.”
“Got it. Special buff baptism, go!”
Multicolored orbs of light burst from Fortuna and were absorbed straight into Jun.
This should be enough no matter what he’s prepared.
Feeling his physical abilities surge, Jun clenched and unclenched his fists a couple of times and nodded in satisfaction. True to her angelic nature, Fortuna excelled in every branch of holy arts—offense, defense, healing, buffs—yet her buff spells were especially outstanding. He had once asked why; she had refused to tell him.
Why was that?
Hummm—
Perhaps thanks to the buffs, his Psychic Core began to stir, however faintly. Jun exhaled in relief, as though reclaiming a lost weapon, then wasted no more time. He slipped into the underbrush, concealed himself, and carefully advanced toward the source of the voice.
Those crazy bastards!
A short while later, upon spotting Frank and the twins, Jun was seized by towering rage. The three of them each held a crude iron sword, a shield, and a crossbow of unknown origin, radiating thick killing intent. That much he had expected. Facing someone who possessed supernatural power as a weapon, they would naturally need weapons of their own.
The reason for his fury lay elsewhere.
“Harry! Tell us the truth!”
“That guy’s here! Or he’s not!”
The twins kicked Harry, who lay crumpled at their feet. It was clearly not the first or second kick; his body was covered in wounds.
“Ugh... I don’t know. I really don’t.”
Harry wept from the pain of their boots yet still refused to reveal Jun’s location. Jun noticed something glittering in the arms of the boy who had curled up tightly to protect his vital spots—the holy water Harry had promised to bring when they left the church.
Damn it. He’s like this because of me.
From the twins’ words it was obvious they had beaten Harry into this state to extract Jun’s whereabouts. Just like in the clearing last time, Harry was suffering simply for being Jun’s friend. The guilt was enough to drive Jun mad.
Calm down. There’ll be an opening.
Fortunately the three still did not know exactly where Jun trained. If he simply failed to appear, they would eventually move. That would be the moment to overpower them easily and rescue Harry.
No, Jun. You can’t drag this out.
What?
Fortuna shook her head, stopping him from settling in for a long wait. Just as Jun was about to ask why, Frank spoke.
“He’s definitely somewhere nearby. Donald was gushing about how the guy trains by the lake until his cores overheat.”
Donald... I didn’t think he was the type to have such a loose tongue.
Jun decided that once this was over and he returned to the church, he would punch Donald square in the face. Donald had probably only meant to praise Jun’s diligence and urge Frank to train just as hard—yet that praise had landed them in the worst possible situation. Unfair or not, Donald would have to take the hit quietly.
“In that case—”
“He’s...”
“Watching this whole scene, waiting for an opening. Just like that underhanded personality of his.”
Frank said as much, then began turning his head this way and that, scanning the surroundings. At the same time he raised his voice so that Jun, wherever he was, would hear.
“Jun! Stop hiding and get out here! You’re not the type to cower just because we’ve armed ourselves with these crude weapons!”
“Heh heh, what’s wrong? Come out and run your mouth like usual! Oh—can’t come out? Guess your cores are in worse shape than I thought.”
Frank laughed like a madman, clearly delighted by the situation. Jun barely restrained the urge to leap out and gift him a fist to the face.
“Ironic, isn’t it? That diligence of yours is what’s holding you back. Don’t feel too cheated, though.”
“You said it yourself. Life is the real thing. The one who wins—even if it’s underhanded—is the one who comes out on top.”
“...So you’re really not coming out till the end, huh? Let’s see how long you can keep hiding.”
Frank muttered ominously, reversed the grip on the iron sword in his right hand, and raised it high. The sharp tip pointed straight at Harry’s thigh. Blue light gathered at the edge of the blade, as if the steel itself rejoiced at the coming blood.