As the door to the inner room shut behind him and Alfia, Zald exhaled and sat down on a nearby bench. He closed his eyes in silence, as though preparing himself for whatever outcome was to come.
Erebus leaned against the wall beside him, arms crossed. His expression remained relaxed, but in his heart, anticipation swirled like a storm.
'If even she can be cured, then those two might just rise again and Orario won't know what hit it.'
Then he smiled faintly.
'No, there'll be three overlords.'
After all, that reckless boy had already defeated Zald despite only being Level 2.
A mortal who dared to stand above gods.
How could one not look forward to what came next?
...
Inside the sanctuary, the room was still and quiet.
Sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting patches of red, blue, and gold across the stone floor.
Akira gently closed the door, and a soft black mist unfurled from his fingertips, forming a soundproof barrier around them. Then, he turned to face her.
A teasing smirk appeared on his lips.
"I never thought I'd see the day." He said, chuckling. "Alfia… you've finally fallen into my hands."
Alfia's expression twitched. She immediately raised a hand, ready to smack him.
"Don't say these misleading things to me."
"Wait! Don't hit me with your Gospel Fist!" Akira quickly raised both hands in surrender, grinning like a cheeky troublemaker even as he leaned back.
His expression didn't show a shred of remorse.
From the moment they had reunited, Akira had already noticed, Alfia's right hand was bare.
No glove.
So she really didn't bother buying a new one after giving hers away.
A dying woman, resigned and too lazy to replace something as trivial as a glove. How very… her.
He let out a silent sigh and glanced at his inventory. Good. He had already prepared something. Something worthy of giving back to her, if, no, when, this worked.
Maybe… just maybe, this would be a second beginning.
"Forget it. Why should I bother with you?" Alfia's hand hovered in the air, frozen mid-slap but finally, she let it fall.
She exhaled softly. There was a faint flicker in her eyes, like the dim light of a candle struggling against the wind.
"So? Do you really have a way to cure me?"
Her voice trembled slightly, barely enough to notice but it was there. Years of pain, of silence, of lost hope all gathered in her soft-spoken question. Her red eyes locked with his, desperate for even a whisper of reassurance.
Akira took a small step forward. Their gazes met, no longer joking, no longer guarded. Just raw, unspoken emotion flowing freely between them.
The grin on Akira's face faded, replaced by a solemn, almost regal calm. He stared into her, his eyes like embers, deep and unwavering.
And then, in a tone filled with absolute certainty, he said, "Don't worry. I made you a promise, didn't I? I'll find a way."
If not today, then tomorrow. If not this body, then another.
He clenched a fist.
Even if I have to extract your soul, rebuild your entire body from scratch, and reinsert you into it, I'll do it.
Terminal illness?
Watch me turn terminal into temporary.
"…I see." Alfia turned her face away ever so slightly, flustered.
Though logic told her it might just be comforting words, pretty lies, soft hope, her heart responded with a flutter she hadn't felt in years.
"Then I'll leave it to you." Her voice was soft, almost bashful.
Akira nodded.
He added, beginning to pace around the room, "However, your condition is complicated. The treatment won't be easy."
"I need your full trust. Your full cooperation."
As he spoke, his body subtly changed. His hair grew longer, brushing past his shoulders. A strange energy began to ripple outward from his core.
"I understand." Alfia said quietly, watching him from the corner of her eye.
Her expression hardened, her resolve returning. "As long as you can cure me, I'm willing to do anything."
"Oh?" Akira raised an eyebrow, a hint of teasing in his voice.
But before he could follow up, Alfia's gaze sharpened. She stared at his form, which had now transformed entirely.
The calm young adventurer was gone. What stood before her now, was something out of a storybook.
Pale, elegant, cloaked in shadow. Blood-red eyes. Crimson mist swirling around his limbs.
A vampire lord? A cursed noble? A myth made flesh?
His voice boomed like a whisper from a forbidden tome, "Then… let the experiment begin."
Outside the chamber, Erebus and Zald simultaneously tensed.
A surge of energy rippled through the church, enough to make even the walls shiver.
Zald's senses, honed by years of battle, instantly detected it. A shift. A transformation.
"This smell…"
The scent of blood thickened in the air like incense, subtle but undeniable.
Zald's brow furrowed. "So it wasn't my blood that time. This is how he heals?"
Beside him, Erebus narrowed his eyes. As a god who ruled the primordial underworld, he could feel the trembling threads of fate shifting.
Life and death… something was being rewritten.
'Akira… what sort of existence are you becoming?'
Within the sanctuary, Akira's body was cloaked in a deep, dark red glow. A suffocating power radiated from him, eerie, unnerving and yet, beneath that terrible aura, his eyes still held the warmth of a protector.
"Don't panic." Akira murmured, voice hoarse but steady. "This is just the preparation phase."
Preparation? Alfia raised an eyebrow.
This looks more like a summoning ritual than healing.
She forced a breath and muttered, "Your 'preparation' is certainly theatrical."
"Tell me, are you really trying to heal me? Or are you planning to eat me alive while I'm defenseless, you little devil?"
But Akira just smiled, that familiar mischief dancing in his eyes. "No other way, Alfia. Your condition's beyond the realm of medicine. Conventional healing won't even touch it."
As he slowly raised his hand, Alfia instinctively tensed, magic beginning to form in her fingertips but then she saw the focused expression on his face. She exhaled and then closed her eyes.
If he really wanted to kill me, he had the chance a long time ago.
"I'm ready. Just get it over with." Her voice was quiet, but firm.
She had made her peace. If this failed, so be it.
"Then let's begin." Akira said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Hold on. It'll hurt a bit."
The moment he spoke, blood burst from the floor like a living tide, flooding outward and then recoiling into the shape of a cocoon. It wrapped around Alfia in an instant, sealing her in a pulsating shell of life essence.
He pressed both palms against the cocoon's surface.
'Focus… don't rush. One mistake and everything fails.'
Dozens of blood threads emerged from the cocoon, thin and precise, threading themselves into Alfia's body like acupuncture needles.
"Mmgh—!"
Alfia's fingers clenched.
She could feel it, something was entering her, flowing into her veins. It was neither hot nor cold. Just… strange.
Akira's hands began to glow. Soft green light radiated from his palms, the power of treatment. Then came the warm, sacred hue of mystery, his development abilities activating. Finally, the crimson threads began to fuse with both, forming golden strands of light.
Treatment, mystery, blood magic.
This impossible combination wove itself into a thread of life.
The golden light passed through the blood threads, flowing directly into her.