[In the spinning dance steps, the boundaries of the entire stage seemed to begin dissolving. Darkness surged like a tide over the ankles, yet in the instant it touched the ground, it transformed into countless starlights.]
[Where Black Swan's high heels passed, the starlights wove memory scrolls. Countless light points swirled at their tiptoes, sometimes gathering into blurry silhouettes, sometimes scattering into fragmented trajectories. Every rotation awakened new fragments, yet crushed the old scenes with every turn.]
["Everyone has a past, and the past shapes the present. Some people can grasp their memories, while others are entangled by them, unable to escape."]
[Black Swan gently pushed with her fingertips, sending Acheron spinning in her palm.]
[Black Swan admired the scene. She slightly raised her head, the corners of her lips curving into a confident arc—]
["So, I made my move."]
——
Arcane: League of Legends
"This woman, does she actually intend to pry into an Emanator's memories? Interesting..."
In the underground factory of Zaun, Silco leaned back on the leather sofa, staring intently at Black Swan's actions, afraid of missing any details about the Aeons.
"What would an Emanator's memories contain? The blessings of an Aeon? The appearance of an Aeon? Or... the true meaning of the Path of [Hunt]?" Just imagining it made him impatient.
Jinx lazily lay on a nearby pipe, swinging her legs and chewing on some candy she had gotten from somewhere. She glanced at the Celestial Screen and pouted: "Boring… so boring! What else could it be? Nothing but boring stuff, like who they kissed as kids, how many people they killed, how they got stronger… We can't even use their Path powers anyway, so why care so much?"
Silco chuckled softly, his gaze still locked on the Celestial Screen: "You're always so impatient, Jinx. Secrets are like the pipes beneath Zaun City—on the surface they look ordinary, but who knows what's really flowing inside?"
"If we can learn about other civilizations through her memories, it would be of tremendous help to us."
Silco picked up the wine bottle on the table and poured himself a glass of red wine. Inhaling the rich aroma, he showed a satisfied expression: "More importantly… intelligence. We're not the only ones watching the Celestial Screen. Those guys from Piltover are definitely paying attention too. If they obtain information about the Emanator while we don't, they might get ahead of us in this extraordinary power of [Paths]."
"So what? It's not like they have Pathstriders or anything."
"Just in case, Jinx… even if the probability is only one in ten thousand, we cannot give it up." Silco's voice was low and hoarse. "If the Emanator's memories really contain the method to step into the Path of [Hunt], I must ensure Zaun grasps it first and gives birth to the first batch of Pathstriders."
——
["I want to know, what kind… is she?"]
[Their dance steps traced elegant trajectories in the void, like two stars pulling each other. Black Swan's left hand lightly supported Acheron's waist, while her right hand interlocked fingers with hers, guiding the next turn in the darkness.]
["This banquet has attracted many people—the IPC, the Garden of Recollection, the Fool, the Nameless… and… the Annihilation Gang of [Destruction]."]
["They were supposed to attend, but—"]
[In the gap between rotations, Black Swan suddenly tightened her grip on Acheron's fingertips.]
[Their gazes suddenly met in the middle of the dance steps—Black Swan's aggressive eyes carried a long-planned brilliance, as if trying to stir up waves. Yet Acheron's pupils remained calm, like a deep sea that even storms could not disturb.]
["Duke Inferno is dead. He and his descendants will never attend the banquet again. Beautiful [Galaxy Ranger], what did you do?"]
[Her gaze pierced into Acheron's eyes like needles, but was instantly swallowed by overwhelming bloody waves—]
[Charred beams slanted into the ruins, and the dome of Duke Inferno's mansion collapsed with a roar. Countless broken and burning limbs were scattered across the stairs. Boiling, burning remains lay like unextinguished incense candles.]
[At the end of the mountain of corpses and sea of blood, Acheron slowly turned around.]
[That pair of crimson eyes was staring straight at her.]
["Excuse me… are you asking me?"]
——
Overlord.
Monster.
Ainz judged the Ranger standing amid the ashes and broken walls as such.
When Duke Inferno first appeared, Ainz had already made a rough assessment of the power of Duke Inferno's forces.
Considering his and his descendants' and subordinates' track record of destroying civilizations, and committing countless massacres across the universe without being sanctioned for so long, he most likely possessed the ability to destroy the Great Tomb of Nazarick.
Yet they died so easily. Ainz didn't even see Acheron take any damage… In other words, this had been a one-sided massacre from the very beginning.
If skeletons could have expressions, the Guardians would probably see their Supreme Lord showing quite a bitter smile.
(Sebas handles things reliably. Having him impersonate an Abundance Emanator shouldn't risk exposure… but if this attracts a monster like Acheron, wouldn't it be more loss than gain?)
(…But we aren't as ostentatious as Duke Inferno. We're only operating in some human nations, so it should be fine, right?)
After careful consideration, Ainz decided to maintain the original policy.
To say he wasn't afraid at all would definitely be a lie. But Ainz was not so timid that he would become completely restrained out of fear of possible threats.
"A-Ainz-sama!"
Mare's voice suddenly rang out in the Throne Hall.
Ainz subconsciously looked toward him and saw Mare timidly pointing upward with his finger.
The sky?
Ainz looked up at the sky and saw a scene that made him shudder.
——
[The string music suddenly let out a jarring dissonance, as if the strings had been severed by a sharp blade.]
[Acheron's dance steps suddenly turned fierce. The hand that had been lightly supporting Black Swan's waist tightened violently, her five fingers digging deep into the other's skin. Before Black Swan could even cry out in surprise, Acheron tore black feathers from her body.]
[The first handful, the second… Countless feathers drifted down in crimson. The indifference in Acheron's eyes was gone, replaced only by a beast-like focus.]
[In panic, she tried to break free, but no matter what she did, she couldn't escape. Like a night moth caught in a spider's web, the more she flapped her wings, the tighter the sticky threads bound her limbs.]
[—Acheron had firmly pinned her in this paired spinning dance.]