Kirhas was staring blankly at the night sky.
The Castle of Bülrang was an ancient fortress, a masterpiece of imperial construction techniques. And cat-type beastmen prefer high places.
These two conditions aligned, allowing Kirhas to sit at the highest point of the castle and gaze at the moon.
To other beastmen, her position on the balcony, occasionally catching glimpses of the Chieftain, symbolized their dominance over this grand and beautiful castle. It was an opportunity to satisfy both personal desires and political gains.
It was also a chance to hide her expression. A rare moment alone, free from the service of others.
Politics and Diplomacy, Military and Domination.
The only time she could set aside her duties as the Chieftain and be alone.
“Haa…”
Thick cigarette smoke lingered at her lips. The Golden Mask, reclaimed upon her reinstatement as Chieftain, clattered softly at that moment.
[He’s here.]
Kadán’s voice echoed in her mind. The Jackal God chuckled.
[Your master has arrived.]
“…!”
Kirhas’ tail shot up briefly before drooping. With a cold expression, she placed the mask on the table by the window.
“A Chieftain doesn’t seek out subordinates first.”
[Your smoke has increased?]
“That’s a sign of diminished authority. And Your Excellency will come to me directly.”
[Your patience has grown too.]
“Because Your Excellency still needs me…”
[Your self-loathing has also increased.]
Kadán laughed, cutting off Kirhas’ words. When Kirhas glared at the mask, the Golden Mask clattered again.
[Why not just knock him down? You’re the Apostle of the God of Hunting. One of the most powerful warlords in the Material World, and the first beastman to ever conquer a castle. How long will you act like a docile housecat waiting for prey to fall?]
“What have I achieved?”
[Huh?]
“What have I accomplished on my own, Kadán? What I’ve seized… most of the titles before my name are medals bestowed upon me by Your Excellency.”
[Defeatist.]
“No. This is what’s called loyalty.”
Kirhas stepped off the balcony and walked into the room. Slumping onto the sofa, she stroked the surface of the Golden Mask.
“Apostle of the God of Hunting? No. Kadán, you and I are partners. I don’t submit to you, and you don’t demand my submission. We joined hands for the same reason: ‘Freedom for Beastmen.’”
[So?]
“If I have a religion, it’s not the Temple of the Gods or the Scales of Hunting dedicated to you. My religion is named Sernerd. My master is Fernandez. From that distant day in the underground waterways of ‘that’ city…”
-I will not submit to the Inquisition Office.
-I pledge my loyalty to you, Fernandez Sernerd.
From that moment. To the young man who took her in during her powerless childhood, when she was nothing but a slave. Even if he needed her as a tool, that was enough.
She poured whiskey from the bottle on the table into a crystal glass. The amber liquid flowed down the glass. She swirled the glass once and called out toward the door.
“Is anyone there?”
“Yes, Chieftain!”
“If Pernin enters and seeks me, let him in immediately, regardless of the time.”
“…? Yes, Chieftain!”
She would endure until the time came. Even so, impatience was inevitable. Kirhas sipped the whiskey and closed her eyes.
She intended to count every second until he arrived.
Around that time, Fernandez was meeting an unexpected guest. Piel, the Archangel of Wisdom and Truth. She stood in the middle of the road leading to the city center, waiting for him.
Fernandez’s eyes gleamed with interest. He knew beastmen grew quickly, but Piel’s growth was astonishing. Was this truly the manifestation of an Archangel?
With long, jet-black hair and a pristine white dress, she gazed at him with shining golden eyes.
“Were you waiting for me?”
“I knew you’d come today.”
“I advised you not to look into the future.”
“I didn’t look into the future. I read the past.”
Piel’s gaze briefly touched Fernandez’s abdomen. She twitched her fingers and carefully handed him a medicine.
“It’s a good remedy for the liver.”
“Medicine doesn’t work on Diemonica’s body.”
The line between medicine and poison is paper-thin. It’s an artificial influence on the body. Diemonica was immune to almost all toxins in the Material World, which meant resistance to almost all medicines.
Well, everything has its pros and cons. Fernandez smirked and walked on. Piel followed beside him.
“I read your past.”
“I doubt you saw anything pleasant.”
“Not just your current life, but your previous one as well.”
At that, Fernandez stopped. Could information reflection transcend dimensions? As far as he knew, it should be impossible. But for an Archangel, and reading the past of a being who transcended dimensions, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
“What did you see?”
“From your birth to your death.”
“I see. You’ve realized.”
“Yes, I read about my sisters’ situations and everything about this world.”
“The cost?”
“My lifespan. I have less than ten years left.”
Piel said it as if it were nothing. Fernandez looked at her face and chuckled.
“Ten years is enough.”
“Does that mean you’ll achieve your goal by then?”
“If you read my last two years, you’d have seen. I’ve eliminated two Great Demons, saved two Archangels, and about half of the Material World’s civilizations are cooperative with me.”
“…Indeed.”
