What flashed before Philly’s eyes lasted but an instant.
“......Ah!”
Thud, the sound of wind settling.
In that moment, Philly lost strength and sank down.
“Your Highness!”
Startled, Malia lowered herself at her side.
Philly raised a hand to signal she was fine. In truth, there was nothing wrong with her body.
It was simply that—
“......Malia.”
Philly looked at Malia.
Now, Philly was the one who had fallen; but in the future Philly had seen, Malia had sunk to her knees.
That tear-streaked face was vivid despite how brief the vision was.
“......? What is it, Your Highness?”
Malia, feeling perplexed by Philly’s expression. Naturally, she had no idea what was happening.
Philly bit her lip.
'......Who was it?'
It had certainly been Malia who was crying. She had observed the future while looking at Malia, so there was no mistake.
But the man who lay facedown.
She could not be sure who he was.
'It was too brief. I should have looked properly!'
Though Philly had sensed and used foresight for some time, she had never seen it at this magnitude.
The very blossoming of ability. The first time.
Thrown off her usual composure, Philly had failed to identify the man who had fallen.
'Thinking about the situation, it was probably Frondier......'
Malia was kind and gentle by nature, but she was not someone who cried easily. In terms of strength of heart, she would be no less than her husband, Amper.
If that Malia were crying before someone, it would surely be someone with whom she had an extremely close bond.
A man with black hair, and someone for whom Malia would weep so desperately.
Naturally, the one who came to mind was her son, Frondier de Roach.
'......Frondier?'
Yet at the root of it, Philly felt doubt.
Frondier would die?
'I can’t even picture it.'
No matter how strong Frondier was, he could not escape death forever. Philly knew that well.
And yet, she could not accept it easily.
'......Then Atjie? No, that makes even less sense.'
If Philly’s belief was that Frondier would not die, then in Atjie’s case it was Philly’s rational judgment.
Frondier stood in overwhelmingly greater danger than Atjie.
First, he was under threat from the gods; second, he was not on this continent; third, Frondier himself set foot in the most dangerous places.
Compared to that, Atjie was plenty safe. All the more so when one considered Atjie’s skill.
“......Sorry, Malia. I must be tired lately.”
Philly shook her head.
Her thoughts would not settle. For now, she decided to hear Malia’s report. She looked very pressed as well.
'The future I saw can be modified. It always has been. As long as we prepare, we can resolve it enough.'
While Philly was thinking that to herself, Malia nodded and spoke.
“On the western continent of Agoris, the demons are provoking the gods.”
“......Provoking?”
Philly did not bother to ask the source of the information. Of course it would be Frondier. Philly knew of the sense-sharing with Malia.
“Yes. Accordingly, it is said there is a risk that the gods will possess the humans to whom they have given divine power, and head to the capital of Palma, a ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) nation on the continent of Agoris.”
“......Possessing humans......”
Philly’s face tightened. It was exactly what had just happened to her daughter Salle at the hands of Odin.
“In other words, here in the Empire as well, people who possess divine power are at risk of possession.”
“That’s right. The most likely are the gods of Olympus, but how the gods of other worlds will move is still unknown.”
Philly brought a finger to her lips.
In that case, the first thing to check was the movements of the Zodiacs. Most of them possessed divine power. They might already be moving while under possession.
“I’ll set people to confirm the movements of the Zodiacs. And if there are Zodiacs with no issues, have them, if possible, support where the problem has arisen. Among the Zodiacs, Ospreet does not possess divine power, so we should ask him for help first.”
“Thank you.”
“......And also.”
As she spoke, Philly paused to think.
The probability was low. But should that slim chance occur, the turmoil that would sweep this Empire would be hard to imagine.
Malia had the same thought.
The two spoke almost at the same time.
“......Confirm Aster Evans.”
***
Aster Evans.
Divine power, Baldur.
But it was said that after the war with Manggot, Aster had completely shaken off the god called Baldur. It was Aster himself who had said so, no one else.
Aster had no knack for hiding or concealing things like Frondier; he was simply ablaze with endless self-improvement.
Even when Frondier told Aster, “The mere fact that too much information about you is out there can become a weakness,” Aster had once replied, “Then I’ll just have to overcome that weakness,” leaving Frondier with a strange look on his face.
“Hello, Mr. Ludovic. What brings you here?”
Aster tilted his head at the sight of Zodiac Ludovic, who had suddenly come to see him.
After graduating, Aster had gone pro, and Ludovic, an imperial palace knight, differed greatly in mission scope.
They had only occasionally met when pros and knights carried out joint missions. They knew each other’s faces and exchanged greetings, but they were not that close.
Ludovic scratched his cheek and spoke.
“Sorry, Aster. Orders came down from the palace.”
“Orders?”
“Instructions to look for humans possessed by a god.”
Aster’s brow furrowed.
“Possessed? Me?”
“I’m saying—those are the orders. It’s not that I think so. If you in particular were to be possessed, the situation would get serious. You are Aster Evans.”
“......Right. I am Aster Evans.”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
Ludovic nodded as if that were the very answer, and Aster tilted his head to the side by the same angle Ludovic had nodded.
It seemed Ludovic’s explanation was not getting through to him at all.
“......So, how do you confirm it?”
“This time it’s trickier than simple mind control. The opponent is a god. It wouldn’t be difficult for him to imitate a human to whom he’s given divine power.”
“So I might already not be Aster, but Baldur. That’s what you’re saying.”
Ludovic nodded.
“So, Aster, is there anything Baldur wouldn’t know, something only you would? Something that would let us be sure at a stroke that you’re Aster.”
At Ludovic’s words, Aster stroked his chin.
Then he lifted his head as if something had come to mind.
“Ah, there is. Not information, though.”
“Good. What is it?”
“Ilseom.”
“......What?”
Even as Ludovic’s face stiffened, Aster had already made up his mind and drew his sword.
“Ah, you don’t know it. I’ll explain. Ilseom is a technique bestowed by the greatest swordsman on the continent of Falind, which I then altered to suit myself—”
“No, no! It’s not that I don’t know Ilseom! Who on this continent wouldn’t know it!”
“......Quite a lot, I’d think?”
Aster asked as if it were only natural, and Ludovic let out a sigh.
“That’s not it—why bring up Ilseom all of a sudden. A word would do.”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly have secrets. Anything I know, Baldur would know as well. Well, it’s been a long time since he left my side, so who knows now.”
Shrugging, Aster went on.
“But Ilseom is different. I can say for certain it’s a technique Baldur can’t imitate. It’s the easiest way to confirm that I’m me.”
“......A god couldn’t imitate it—truly?”
“Of course. All the more so if it’s not his own body but a possessed flesh.”
At Aster’s words, Ludovic’s gaze flicked to and fro before he nodded.
“Fine. Come to think of it, no matter how godly, he can’t do what he’s never practiced.”
“I’ll show you in this direction. Watch carefully.”
Aster turned to Ludovic’s left. It was a proper angle from which to check Aster’s movement from the side.
Ludovic spoke.
“Give me a cue. I might miss it.”
“I always call the cue.”
With that, Aster said,
“Here I go.”
Just as he said—after announcing the cue, all aura vanished,
──Ka-aang!
ripping the air with a violent clang of metal,
Chaaaash!!
On the ground where his two feet had drawn a long line, Ludovic stood with sword drawn, stunned for a moment by the impact.
“......What are you doing, Aster.”
Aster’s Ilseom had been fired at Ludovic. Without a hint of hesitation.
He had blocked it thanks to the clear cue; otherwise it would have been dangerous.
“Hm.”
Aster looked at Ludovic with cold eyes.
“Even in this situation you call me ‘Aster.’ You had reason enough to suspect Baldur.”
“......!”
“As I thought, I was right.”
Aster set his stance. Middle guard. The very picture of a swordsman.
“‘It’s easy for a god to imitate a human.’”
Aster repeated what Ludovic had said a moment ago.
“Your stance, your gait, the way you grip the sword, the look on your face. Not a single one matches Mr. Ludovic. With what confidence did you say it was easy?”
“!”
“And more than anything—”
With eyes that, rarely, bore a tinge of killing intent, Aster looked at Ludovic.
“Do you not know what state Ludovic is in right now?”
“......What?”
“The last I saw him, Ludovic was mired in guilt. Saying he had driven Frondier out. Of those weighed down most heavily by the sin directed at Frondier de Roach, it was Ludovic.”
Aster was not close to Ludovic.
But in the few times they’d met, he remembered that face Ludovic had shown.
—You call yourself a Zodiac, Ludovic?
It was not something Aster had ever heard said.
But Aster remembered that face, stained with contrition and regret.
“Since Ludovic was under mental pressure, possession would have been easy.”
“......”
Ludovic no longer answered.
No—the one who had taken Ludovic’s body, putting any further lies behind him, cooled his face to a chill.
“And the god who supposedly bestowed divine power, having taken Ludovic’s body, comes to me and, as if he’s forgotten everything, flaps his lips lightly?”
Aster’s aura, little by little, pulsed and condensed.
“You don’t even know what kind of man Ludovic is. And you call yourself a god.”
The courtesy Aster had maintained toward every opponent vanished.
He briefly recalled the past and let out a short laugh.
“Baldur must’ve been the same kind of punk as you.”
