Light and darkness were tangled together. By the time Agion had become light itself and was facing the darkness— The Nibelung Matriarch dropped a shocking line. “It's meaningless now anyway.” “What are you talking about.” “It’s not here anymore. The ‘Peacemaker†.’” At that, Agion frowned. He remembered the Radiance⁺₊⋆ that had erupted inside the casino—one he hadn’t triggered himself. That light... it had been of extraordinarily high purity. Even among the seven elements, it was light at its purest, the pinnacle. Intense. Refined. “That bastard set it off.......” The Matriarch didn’t answer. She just smiled. “You let it go? Just like that?” “And what would you have done if you chased after it?” “You should have gone after it.” “Think you can? Everyone knows about your rampage now. If you keep pushing, the other Constellations will take it as a chance to jump in.” “Do yourself a favor and stop. Don’t waste both our strength. Go back and try to protect your precious ranking.” But then—something shifted. The light began flaring more violently. “I can’t let that happen.” At this, the Nibelung Matriarch furrowed her brow. There was something wrong with the Radiant Constellation⁺₊⋆’s eyes. In truth, she’d thought he was unhinged from the moment he appeared. From the Radiant⁺₊⋆ Legion, to the [Mega-Scale Illusion] that seized the entire Goldenfield Security Force... If he had really used something like that, Agion’s ranking must’ve already dropped at least five positions from his original rank of 20. “...You saw something, didn’t you?” Then the light surged again, shaking the air with immense force. He was now sacrificing his strength to wield his [Authority]. “I will kill him and take the ‘Peacemaker†.’” With that declaration, Agion turned his body. And then—he soared into the sky. His human body transformed into a massive bird of light and vanished into the heavens. That bastard Glory, who might as well be this world’s protagonist, truly did look the part. I don’t particularly enjoy evaluating men’s appearances, but... Gray hair, blue eyes. Tall, well-proportioned. And a face—like with Rebecca—that carried a whole different class. It was like a male god had descended into the mortal world. And yet, that dazzling face was hidden behind a complete mess. From his tangled mop of hair to clothes that looked like rags, he was basically a vagrant. “You should really start washing up.” Glory just stared at me in silence. I didn’t like those eyes of his. “...What’s your business.” “I have something to say about the holy sword Peacemaker† and you, the so-called hero Glory. But... no. First, go wash your damn hair.” When I snapped at him, the bastard finally started to move—reluctantly. So slow I wanted to smack him in the back of the head. Eventually, Glory washed his hair in that filthy bathroom. Dragging himself along like a slug. As he shampooed and rinsed, I quietly kept squeezing out more shampoo behind his back. No matter how much he rinsed, the bubbles wouldn’t go away. Glory looked up at me—without even rubbing the soap from his eyes. “What are you staring at? Hurry up. I’m holding in my temper here, so get on with it.” “Wash your damn face. And your hands. And your neck. Behind the ears, too.” Then I squeezed more shampoo. He had only washed his hair, but he already looked so much better. That’s when I realized something. ‘This bastard’s hair... it’s sky blue?’ I’d thought it was gray, but it was just dirt? Now it was time to talk. “First, let me ask you something.” From here on, this conversation was one that only he and I in this world could truly understand. “Do you know about the ‘End’?” Glory’s expression hardened. “...Let me ask instead. Do you know about it?” The bastard shot the question back at me. “Right now, I ask, and you answer. Don’t break the rules.” “There will be a war against the Demon King. If I don’t kill the Demon King, the world will be destroyed.” I’d heard—whether in Count Kahla’s domain or elsewhere—that Glory had always been treated like a madman. Because he kept repeating things like: I am the Hero! The world is ending! Everyone else might’ve thought he was crazy, but I didn’t. Because I knew this DLC was a ‘Hero Story.’ “...Then give me the holy sword.” Glory’s face hardened. That look turned hostile. Now we were getting to the heart of it. “Why are you so pathetic?” “You alone can save the world. Only you can wield the holy sword. Only you can kill the Demon King. Only you can unite the continent. Am I right?” “Then why the hell are you so pathetic?” A sharp glint began to rise in Glory’s eyes. “Do you know how much time we have left until the End?” “We’ve only got three years left. After that, the war against the Demon King will begin without fail. And yet here you are—not even washing your damn hair?” “...Is washing hair really that important? I train desperately every day—” “Let’s try a hypothetical. Suppose I wasn’t here. You wouldn’t have gotten the holy sword, right?” “You don’t have the holy sword. Because of that, you can’t kill the Demon King. If you can’t kill the Demon King, you can’t save the world.” “Shut your mouth. Right now, the whole world thinks you’re insane. The only ally you’ve got is that contrarian Kreutz cleric. You can’t even wash your hair—how are you going to unify the continent? You couldn’t even win over the hearts of the citizens of Count Kahla’s little territory.” “And now, I’m even questioning your level. Aren’t you a [Grandmaster]? You do realize it takes at least ten years, even for the most talented, to ascend from [Grandmaster] to [Challenger]?” “Even your good deeds are half-assed. Some hero you are—drinking while villagers in the next territory are being abused.” Glory seemed to be angry. Veins popped in his jaw as he stared at the floor. When he lifted his head again, his eyes were glinting with killing intent. I slapped his cheek, and his head whipped to the side. He froze like that—face turned. “Get a grip. Look straight ahead. Even if I gave you the holy sword right now, you’d never defeat the Demon King.” There’s something about him that’s always pissed me off. That aura of helplessness. I can’t stand it—when someone who has no reason to be powerless chooses to stay that way. Probably because of all the time I spent sick and helpless myself. “...So. What you’re saying is—I should follow your instructions to get the holy sword?” “...Wash up. Do good deeds. Train harder. Expand my influence?” He was depressed, but not stupid. He immediately understood the core of what I said. And right after that came suspicion. “...Can I even trust you? If I do all that... can I really save the world?” There was fear in that voice. I spoke with conviction. What does Glory need right now? 3. Personal power and influence. And haven’t I already provided all three to those who needed them? At that moment, Eve was surrounded—by Elize, Gray, and Adele Mouin—complaining in visible distress. “Hey, you. How long have you been wearing that hoodie? And what’s with your bangs? Why are they half-grown like that?” “Professor’s friend, I have some new clothes. Want one? That outfit’s... really filthy.” “Hmm... Should I throw in some unused shoes too... maybe?” Eve looked too much like a mess. It wasn’t the old ghillie suit-dress anymore. It was a huge, baggy hoodie Ran had brought her. The ghillie suit never showed dirt, but commercial clothing? Dirt stood out instantly. ‘I really want to cut her bangs Kreutz-style. The girls in Hiaka always leave their bangs awkwardly long. Don’t they know you look prettier when your eyebrows show?’ ‘I want to put her in clean clothes. Maybe even pants—hide those legs a little.’ ‘Hmm... Professor Dante... Didn’t take you for the type to let your friend walk around barefoot...’ Maybe, just maybe, the three of them were reminded of their old childhood Barbie dolls. As the three of them ominously approached, Eve resisted. Mumbling weak protest. Gesturing vaguely, then curling her hand into a paw and pressing it to her cheek like a cat. She had meant to ask, “Where is Dante?” But the three of them completely misunderstood. And so, she was captured—dragged off somewhere by Adele Mouin and the others. Even as they dragged her away, she kept pressing her fist to her cheek. But no cat ever came...... – Priestess, I’ll send in the next penitent. At this moment, Rebecca of the clergy was inside the confessional booth. A place where sinners confess their misdeeds before the Virgin through a servant of the divine. Everything heard inside was kept secret. Rebecca listened to countless confessions, offering comfort to the guilty. – I had an affair with my friend’s wife... – I stole money from my grandfather’s storeroom a few days ago... – I want to kill my brother... The confessional was, as usual, a complete mess. A bunch of garbage humans committing sin after sin under the guise of religion. Rebecca liked that, though. It felt like a cozy trash bin. In a group , surely she too could become a cardinal. “You have confessed your sins to the Virgin. Now go and repent. Seek forgiveness from those you’ve wronged. Let us pray.” Repeat those words like a parrot, and her duty was done. – I gambled away my father’s surgery money the other day... Rebecca’s hand twitched at that one. – Gambling was... really fun. At the casino. Pulling the slot machines. Playing poker. Blackjack. I blew all 50,000 Hika. But even scarier than losing money... was how fun it was... The man rambled. It was fun. He regretted it. He was sad. But it was still fun... Clearly not in his right mind. He kept going, recounting every detail of what had happened at the casino. And at that moment—Rebecca felt something unnameable. – I hit a 20x jackpot once, and, oh, that thrill... Before she realized it, – Ah, sorry. I went off on a tangent, didn’t I? That’s not something I should be telling a priest... – But I shouldn’t gamble again, right? “Of course not. Absolutely not.” Even as she spoke the words, her hands itched. She rushed through the prayer and kicked the man out—but something felt wrong. Her fingers tingled just from imagining it. A thrilling sensation of success she had never once felt before. She exhaled deeply and covered her eyes. ‘...I’m losing my mind.’ This was all because of that man—Dante Hiakapo. 3. Personal Power and Influence Kaiser had his eyes closed. He had exited the scene as soon as things were settled and returned to Count Kahla’s domain. The Nibelung Matriarch had observed him through 『Darkness』, and since what happened ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) was simply the result of Dante’s absurd ability, there would be no consequences to face. The ❆Dominion❆ had survived. It wasn’t that the Dominion❆ had survived. It was Professor Dante who saved the Dominion❆. They had created Dominion❆ to aid him—to worship him. And yet, when the time truly came—they ended up relying on him instead. That fact ignited a furious self-loathing in Kaiser. Why? Thɪs chapter is updated by 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹~𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮~𝚗𝚎𝚝 Why had he been forced to depend on the Professor? Because the Dominion❆ are still weak. Even though they had conquered the South, they were still a group that could be swayed by the powerful. They had only barely survived—thanks to the Professor’s help. Even so, the Professor had acknowledged the Dominion❆. In that moment, a violent chain reaction erupted in Kaiser’s mind. Life goes on. Waves crash and recede. Leaves may be bent—but they grow back stronger. It’s okay to regret something once. But never again. That shame burned into his bones. “...Eymon. Moong. We’re expanding our forces.” Kaiser began to raise an army. “From now on, we’re heading for the Empire.”