A New Shadow Rises
On the way from the teleportation temple to the town's shopping district, Lia looked back dozens of times. At this rate, she's going to hit a hundred.
"Lia, they couldn't keep holding Ratel without concrete evidence. If the evidence and witnesses had been solid, the Temple would have made a much bigger deal out of it. Just like they did to you three years ago."
Unable to watch her fret any longer, I stopped her and turned her around to face me.
A look of confusion washed over Lia's face, which had been locked in a tight, anxious expression.
"What do you mean? Are you saying that what happened three years ago wasn't Ethan's doing alone?"
"The Temple is highly likely to be on Ethan's side."
"Lord Ran...!"
At my response, Jing softly called my name. He was warning me that speaking ill of the Temple would bring no good.
But I needed to test the waters at this point. I had to see whether Lia would make the same choice as in the original novel, or choose a different path.
"Are you saying... it was the Temple's will for me to live as a sinner for the past three years?"
"Are you afraid?"
At my question, Lia looked up at the towering spires of the distant Temple with a pained expression.
"...I don't know. I don't know if I'm scared or angry. But one thing is certain."
Veins bulged on the back of her clenched fists.
"I don't ever want to go back to the way things were."
"You useless fool! You're nothing but trash with a big mouth!"
An inkwell thrown by the priest struck Ethan squarely in the head. He groaned and bowed his head.
Blood trickled down his face from a gash on his brow bone where the bottle had struck.
But before he could even wipe it away, the priest's hand flew across his face.
Slap!
"What are you going to do now? If we lose the championship in tomorrow's finals, we'll have no choice but to send an outsider to the Limis Temple! You said you would stop them by any means necessary! Is this your grand result?!"
A few more blows rained down, but Ethan kept his mouth shut and silently endured the man's violence.
In the end, it was the priest who wore himself out first. Exhausted from his own rage, he spat at Ethan one last time and stepped back.
"...I am sorry. Please, give me one more chance," Ethan said calmly, his face a battered mess.
"I can't trust your pathetic plans anymore. Just stick to your original role. If you can't defeat that weakling of a man and Lia, you won't get out of this unscathed either."
The priest glared down at Ethan, who was staring blankly at the floor without replying.
"Don't expect any mercy just because we share blood, Ethan. Not if you want to keep living in this town."
Ethan nodded, the blood dripping down his cheek staining the floor.
Making Ethan an exception to the rules had been a massive blunder on the Temple's part. By doing so, they had stripped themselves of the justification to disqualify our team for being short-handed.
Furthermore, by some stroke of coincidence, two participants from Team 12 had also suffered sudden injuries, forcing the Temple to allow replacements for both sides.
"It's really strange that two people got injured in accidents at the same time."
"We got lucky."
I quietly nodded along to Jing and Lia's conversation. Yes, we were incredibly lucky. Not just one, but two people—what a stroke of fortune.
Of course, that didn't mean it would be easy to find a townsperson willing to lend their name to the notorious Team 34 in Ratel's stead.
Leaving behind the Temple's warning that we would be barred from the finals if we didn't find a substitute before sunset, we walked slowly through the town, feeling utterly lost.
Since the Lucha Tournament began, we had been a magnet for trouble. No one in their right mind would want to help us.
"I suppose bribing someone with money would be the fastest way?"
Jing proposed the quickest, simplest, and most efficient solution.
"It would be nice if money could solve this, but we don't even know if anyone would dare take money from people who have crossed the Temple."
"...That's true. The faith of Abaran isn't something that can be shaken by mere gold."
Jing's expression darkened, likely recalling how even the immensely wealthy Fidus family had been utterly powerless under the name of the gods.
"I'm sorry. It's because of my bad reputation..."
Lia, who had no way of knowing his thoughts, blamed herself. Jing shook his head.
"No, this isn't your fault. It's just an unfortunate situation."
"Still... if only I had at least one close friend in this town..."
Lia muttered, still consumed by guilt. She seemed to regret the past three years she had spent doing nothing but shuttling between her home and the Temple.
Actually, there was one other place Lia used to frequent besides the Temple.
"Hey!"
Right on cue, a small bookstore run by an eccentric owner with exactly that kind of voice.
But since it wasn't an option I particularly wanted to consider, Jing and I didn't bother stopping.
"Hey, Lia!"
But the man was persistent. He rushed out of the bookstore and blocked our path.
Lia let out a sigh at his stubbornness.
"What is it, mister? I haven't even stepped foot in your shop for the past few days."
At her exhausted tone, the bookstore owner hurriedly shook his head.
"No, no! You can come to the bookstore as much as you want now."
Lia kept a suspicious gaze fixed on him despite his sudden change of heart.
"Why the sudden change? You used to scream at me whenever I even came near the shop."
A look of embarrassment crossed the bookstore owner's face.
"Well, yes, I did... That was, well..."
After fumbling for words a few times, he finally seemed to steel himself and looked Lia straight in the eye.
"I've been watching the matches from the very beginning, Lia. You're incredibly skilled. Really... you don't need to resort to any foul play."
Starting with a compliment, he glanced at me once before continuing.
"I also heard that scary-looking young man was dragged off to the Temple. There must be some misunderstanding this time too. Just like three years ago."
"Mister...!"
The man raised a hand, cutting off Lia before she could speak.
"What I'm trying to say is..."
Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, he finally revealed the real reason he had stopped us.
"If you're okay with it, why don't you use my name? Of course, I can't fight alongside you, but if you just need a name to fill the slot..."
We had no reason to refuse his tentative offer, which carried a silent apology.
Having resolved this unexpected hurdle much faster than anticipated, we returned to our lodgings with lighter steps.
Lia, who had been walking like a hollow shell the entire way back, finally snapped out of it after we finished eating.
Staring blankly out the window, she spoke.
"...Jing, I want to train."
For once, Jing did not refuse her request.
Sitting on a chair in the empty dining hall, I watched Lia and Jing engage in a mock battle under the guise of training outside the first-floor window.
Both of them were sweating, looking thoroughly energized.
I'm glad I opted out.
"Hey, kid. Aren't you going to do any of that training?"
Before I knew it, El, in his squirrel form, had hopped onto the table and addressed me.
"So you've decided to talk to me now?"
It had been quite a while since he last spoke to me. In fact, I think this was the first time since we arrived in this town.
"You're the only one who knows my true identity. Did you really think I could ignore you forever?"
"Right. And when exactly are you going to reveal that identity of yours?"
"At the moment I deem it most necessary. Though, if I hadn't mistaken you for someone else in the first place, things wouldn't have gotten this tangled up."
He spoke nonchalantly. I refrained from pointing out that even without me, he wouldn't have met the protagonist anyway. Since they had already met, it was a moot point now.
"More importantly, I asked you a question. Don't you need to train like them? Aren't you worried about tomorrow?"
El gestured with his chin toward Lia and Jing, who were still sparring fiercely.
"Training hard for a day or two isn't going to suddenly make me strong enough to beat Ethan."
"Oho, so you're just going to forfeit immediately?"
"I'll have to try with everything I've got."
El gave me a puzzled look, unable to comprehend my words.
"Does it really take that much resolve just to yell 'I forfeit'? You did it easily enough today."
"Today was just luck. Ethan is going to come into the finals absolutely venomous, so cheap tricks like today's won't work. He'll do whatever it takes to stop me from forfeiting."
"Why?"
"Because Ethan's goal will be to break me so badly that I'll never stand again."
"...What?"
El asked blankly, clearly not expecting that answer. Has this guy really lived for a thousand years?
"That way, Lia will feel too guilty to leave the town with us. If he can't fully control his sister, he'll target her weakest point."
Guilt. That was the heaviest shackle Ethan could use to bind Lia.
El suddenly stood up straight.
"Wait, then how can you be so calm?! You're saying you might end up half-dead tomorrow if things go wrong?!"
He squeaked in agitation.
"I'm going to do my best to make sure that doesn't happen. Ran's body is fast, so as soon as the match starts, I'll sprint out of the arena while shouting my forfeit."
"And what if you get caught before you can even yell it?"
"Then I'll have to create an opening to forfeit while taking the least amount of damage. I'm pretty good at that sort of thing."
El stared at me intently.
"Aren't you going to tell the others?"
"What?"
"That you might die tomorrow if things go wrong!"
"Die? Stop jinxing me. Besides, telling them won't change anything."
Despite being a squirrel, El managed to look utterly exasperated.
"I thought I was something else, but you... you're really something, kid."
"If you want to help, teach me a way to get strong overnight. Otherwise, just keep quiet."
El quietly looked out the window.
While a fierce battle was brewing in distant Lucha, a new storm was gathering strength within the Imperial Palace.
It began during a family dinner, held despite the recent death of Rasiah.
The Third Prince, who had never once doubted that he would be the next candidate for the throne after Rasiah's death, stared blankly at the white haze touching the edge of the table, then back at Dito, whose hand rested upon the Prasa.
His once-confident face distorted into a pitiful, wretched grimace.
"How is this possible? How could your power suddenly grow this strong?!"
His last words were practically a shriek of desperation.
Dito turned to face him. The gentle smile playing on Dito's lips carried an unsettling, chilling edge.
"Rules are rules. Go back to your seat."
"You must have played some trick! There's no other way! How could a weakling who did nothing but flatter Brother Rasiah possess such power?!"
Enraged, the Third Prince lunged toward Dito. The wind he conjured whipped into a violent vortex, aiming to swallow and tear Dito apart.
But in the next instant, a tiny spark ignited at the tip of the Third Prince's finger, rapidly swelling until it engulfed his entire arm.
"Aaaaargh!"
The stench of burning flesh instantly filled the dining hall.
"From now on, you must learn your place. I have absolutely no reason to tolerate you."
The Third Prince thrashed wildly, trying to extinguish the fire on his arm, but Dito's flames neither died down nor shrank, relentlessly consuming his flesh.
Because of the Imperial bloodline's ceaseless regeneration, he was plunged into an endless cycle of agony.
"Please, please stop! I was wrong! Stop it!"
Crawling to Dito's feet, the Third Prince begged for mercy.
Dito gazed down at him quietly, his eyes shifting to rest on the Third Prince's remaining hand, which was pressed against the floor.
Understanding the terrifying implication of that gaze, the Third Prince flinched violently.
"Please stop! I'm sorry!"
"Haha, you look just like a frog."
Dito chuckled softly and lowered his hand. The flames consuming the Third Prince's arm slowly died out.
"Heff... gasp... ugh..."
Dito averted his eyes from the drooling Third Prince sprawled on the floor and looked up. Everyone in the room was staring at them.
"Why is everyone staring? If you have something to say, speak up. It's not like we're strangers."
No one spoke. No one dared to meet Dito's eyes.
As if finding their silence hilarious, Dito burst into laughter. His laughter echoed through the quiet hall, riding on the waves of everyone's terror.
Dito turned his gaze toward the one who had been watching the entire spectacle in silence.
The Emperor's eyes met Dito's.
With a squinting smile, Dito slowly bowed to the Emperor.
"Forgive me for causing a scene."
The Emperor looked down at him for a moment, then silently turned his head away.
Whether that gesture signified silent forgiveness or his usual indifference was unclear, but one thing was certain.
The one who had seized Rasiah's place was none other than Dito.
Seated far from the head of the table, Cellos clenched his fists tightly, staring at the empty seat across from him.