Over ten minutes later.
After Orsaga's treatment, Alison's body had been fully restored to its original, flawless condition—just as it was before the injury.
In fact, thanks to the massive infusion of life force, she looked even healthier than before.
Her pale, delicate skin now emitted a faint glow, carrying an almost ethereal beauty.
Orsaga couldn't help but admire her a little longer.
Alison didn't react much to his gaze. Calmly, she began putting her clothes back on. After all, he'd already seen everything—there wasn't much point in feeling embarrassed now.
The only issue she encountered was that the buttons on her clothes suddenly felt a little… tight.
Instinctively, she recalled Orsaga's earlier comments about her figure.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as she turned to look at him.
Catching her gaze, Orsaga gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up, like a proud sculptor admiring his finished masterpiece.
His face radiated pure, unfiltered pride.
"…"
That alone was enough. No need to ask questions—she understood exactly what happened.
Alison sighed helplessly. There was really nothing she could do about him.
Fortunately, she didn't mind the change all that much.
Seeing she wasn't mad, Orsaga blinked in mild surprise, then added,
"Your body's fine now, but your soul's still a bit weak. There are remnants of the opposing force lingering in it—residue from the Archdemon's energy. You'll need a few more days of rest before you're fully recovered."
As he finished speaking, he pulled a few vials of medicine from his storage space.
Handing them to Alison, he said,
"Take one bottle every three days. Once you finish the set, you should be completely healed."
Alison didn't stand on ceremony. She accepted the vials and nodded.
"Got it."
What she didn't know, however, was that Orsaga was keeping something from her.
During the treatment process, while flooding her with life force, he had also activated a dormant portion of her bloodline—ancestral power inherited from her forebear, the true god of the Elves from the Myling World: The Sun God.
That divine power had long since fallen, so the activation didn't greatly boost Alison's strength. However, it did enhance her potential, subtly giving her the traits of a divine being.
But that wasn't why Orsaga kept it secret.
What he didn't tell her was that he had modified part of her divine bloodline structure during the process.
Why?
Because if he hadn't, there was no guarantee that a powerful divine being like that wouldn't try to hijack Alison's body and reincarnate through her.
Those kinds of entities were notoriously hard to kill—lingering remnants of their will could last forever. No one ever truly knew what sort of contingency plans they'd left behind.
And for a real god, a descendant with high enough blood purity was the perfect resurrection vessel.
One strong enough to potentially awaken their dormant consciousness.
So to eliminate the risk, Orsaga deliberately contaminated part of her bloodline—killing any chance of resurrection at the source.
If that god still refused to give up and tried to force it…
Well, Orsaga didn't mind adding a god to his diet.
While he probably couldn't beat that god in their prime—at least not according to the power system of the Myling World—a half-dead divine remnant? That was just a big sack of divine energy in his eyes.
When it came to bullying the weak and infirm, Orsaga could confidently be called a master.
He had absolute confidence in that department.
Meanwhile, Alison—completely unaware that her ancestor's coffin had just been metaphorically nailed shut again—was just about to open one of the vials and take her medicine.
But another of Orsaga's actions caught her attention first.
With a casual wave of his hand, the pieces of corrupted flesh he'd carved from her body earlier dissolved into a cloud of dark red mist, which floated toward his palm.
He pressed his fingers into the mist, then smiled and said,
"This stuff still carries the imprint of that Archdemon, You can keep it. When your strength is high enough, you can track him down and get your revenge."
Alison blinked in surprise.
Of course she resented the being that had nearly killed her.
But she also knew full well that she had never once appeared on that demon's radar. To him, she'd been no more than an ant caught in the crossfire.
Chances were, he didn't even know she existed—let alone that she'd been injured by his attack.
To talk about revenge under those circumstances… felt meaningless.
In the end, despite her resentment, Alison shook her head and said,
"No need. Just destroy it."
It wasn't cowardice.
It was simply a rational choice—there was no point in provoking an enemy far beyond her current reach.
Risking her own life, and the lives of her loved ones, just to soothe her pride wasn't worth it.
"Alright," Orsaga replied casually.
He understood her reasoning completely.
Without arguing, he tossed the blood mist straight into his mouth and swallowed it.
As a top-tier demon of the new generation, even though the energy in that mist came from a Archdemon, the quality gap between it and his own wasn't massive.
In a one-on-one confrontation, the opposing energy had no choice but to submit and become nourishment.
"1 to 21."
Not long after, he finished digesting it and calculated the energy ratio.
For every one unit of the demon's power, he needed to burn twenty-one of his own to match it.
But that didn't faze him.
The power difference between each Rank became exponentially wider the higher you went.
According to his inherited memories, a standard Archdemon could usually wipe out a greater Demon in a couple of moves.
So the fact that the energy disparity was only 21-to-1 meant Orsaga was doing pretty damn well.
At the very least, he wouldn't get instantly obliterated if they fought.
He could actually put up a decent fight.
Meanwhile, both Alison and Golarial had fallen silent, staring blankly at him.
That blood mist… contained Alison's flesh.
Watching Orsaga casually consume it like a snack left them both deeply unsettled.
Realizing something was off, Orsaga looked up and asked,
"What? Something wrong?"
From his perspective, it was no big deal. He'd eaten his own flesh before—someone else's wasn't even worth a second thought.
Seeing his genuinely puzzled expression, Alison and Golarial exchanged a glance, then shook their heads in unison.
"It's nothing."
They understood. To Orsaga, that kind of thing simply wasn't worth making a fuss over.
Even if they said anything, he wouldn't care—so they might as well let it go.
"Alright then."
Scratching his head, Orsaga's eyes lit up with anticipation.
"In a few days, there's a merchant guild organizing a world invasion. I'm planning to check it out. You two want to come with?"
"Sure."
"Whatever…"
____
T/N:
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