Chapter 35: Spoils of War?

“What…?”

Avelle fell to her knees. She had no idea what had just happened.

It wasn’t just the colossus. Her world was collapsing too.

“Lady Avelle!”

The dryads grabbed Avelle by the arms and urged her to stand.

“Quickly! You must escape!”

“There is no time to lose!”

Avelle rose as best she could and began to run, dragged along by her dryads.

At the same time, the dust cloud kicked up by the colossus’s destruction screened the forest spirits’ frantic retreat.

“But… But where are we supposed to go? The valley has always been my home…”

Avelle let the question slip out as she ran, her eyes downcast, not expecting an answer.

Though even if she had, the dryads’ attention was elsewhere.

!!

Falling from the sky in the middle of a ring of fire, a redhead with twintails had appeared and cut off the escape route of the lady of the flower throne and her dryads.

In one hand, she carried a gigantic, gleaming black scythe that seemed capable of tearing out your soul if you so much as looked at it.

“It’s… It’s her!” one of the dryads wailed, turning even paler than before and falling to her knees. “The blood-red being! She has come for us!”

Defeated, Avelle slowly raised her gaze, only to meet Cerys’s eyes, which seemed to crackle with sparks.

“Ah… No… Help…”

She instantly knew that any wrong move could mean her end.

***

[Proficiency UP!]

[Death’s Touch]

[Proficiency C -> B]

[Even the divine lords of this land must one day depart; mark those whose time has come]

“That must mean local deities… It’s a skill that forces me to put myself within the opponent’s reach, and it doesn’t even work on lesser gods yet…”

Nerez closed the Godscript tab he had been checking and continued climbing the steep forest hill.

“Well, I guess you can’t have everything in life… or in any life, really.”

On both sides of the slope, ranks of skeletons raised their weapons in salute.

A chill ran down his spine at the sight, but he did not show his discomfort.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

It had not been a particularly difficult victory compared to the battles against demigods, but it was still a victory, and they had earned it.

“Nereeeez!”

From the top of the hill, a furious voice called his name.

He did not have to climb much farther before he saw Cerys waving her gigantic scythe in protest.

“Put that away before you hurt someone. More specifically, me.”

Cerys had not exactly calmed down, but she still dismissed her Eidolon without protest.

“Listen, Nerez! That…! That coward! She refused to fight for her life! She threw herself to the ground and just stayed there crying!”

“Yes, you tend to have that effect on people. But who are you talking about?”

Cerys angrily pointed behind her. There, on the grass, a cluster of huddled figures lay moaning and sobbing.

“She’s a local deity! She had the advantage of the terrain and surrendered just like that!” Cerys continued complaining. “And that’s your fault too! My stats rose too much after I became your servant! No battle is fun anymore!”

“How terrible… terrible indeed… Mm? A local deity? What a coincidence. I could test Death’s Touch and see whether it really works on one…” Nerez looked over Cerys’s shoulder while she stomped the ground, but the huddled lumps only went on sobbing. “On second thought, I don’t think that will be necessary…”

Pat Pat

“Huh…?”

Nerez patted Cerys twice on the head, leaving her bewildered.

“Despite everything, you did a good job today,” he said before making his way toward the sobbing huddle.

“Ah… sure… Mm? Despite everything?”

***