For the Holy Emperor, who had never witnessed bloodshed, and even for the civilian officials present—this was nothing short of a hellscape unfurled before their eyes.
Even the politicians who had seen their share of grand spectacles couldn't help but turn ashen. Their Adam's apples bobbed as they desperately fought to keep down the bile churning in their stomachs.
The Holy Emperor's shoulders shook violently. She finally managed to turn her head away, unable to bear looking at the red-and-white heap on the carpet any longer.
Too gruesome.
This wasn't an execution.
This was butchery.
And yet.
Tendou Kisara—the one who had wrought all of this—wore no expression whatsoever on her face.
Her eyes were terrifyingly hollow, as though veiled by a layer of grey film. Her gaze passed straight over the two halves of the still-bleeding corpse, fixing itself squarely on the figure who had remained as immovable as a mountain at the head of the conference table from start to finish—Tendou Kikunojou.
"Well then, Grandfather."
"Or should I say—Chief Aide Tendou Kikunojou!"
"Next."
"It's your turn."
With that, Tendou Kisara raised her blade and advanced, one step at a time.
Her soles squelched against the blood-soaked carpet, producing wet, sticky sounds with every step.
The surrounding ministers wanted to scream, wanted to flee—but under the suppression of Haimer's Divine Power, aside from their eyeballs darting frantically and cold sweat drenching their bodies, they couldn't so much as twitch a single finger.
All they could do was watch helplessly as Tendou Kisara walked, step by step, toward the most powerful man in the nation.
Tendou Kikunojou stood exactly where he had been. Both hands resting on his cane.
His back, ramrod straight.
Facing that still-dripping cursed blade, facing his own granddaughter who radiated killing intent from every pore—this old fox who had held the reins of the Tokyo Area for decades actually managed to produce a faint smile.
"Is that all?"
"Kisara."
"I had thought that ten years of tempering would have made you grow at least a little."
"How disappointing."
"You're still just as naive."
Tendou Kikunojou looked at Tendou Kisara and shook his head, his tone dripping with disappointment.
"If you're trying to provoke me, save your breath."
Tendou Kisara remained unmoved. Her eyes were dead-set, her steps unceasing.
"No matter what you say, today, the Tendou family pays for my parents' lives."
"Pays?"
"Of course."
"A life for a life, a debt for a debt. That's how it's always been."
Tendou Kikunojou nodded, as if he found the logic quite agreeable.
But the very next second, he shifted tack.
"But Kisara."
"Do you truly believe you already know everything?"
"What do you mean?"
Tendou Kisara frowned and stopped in her tracks.
Instinct told her that nothing good ever came out of this old man's mouth. But the intense sense of wrongness was impossible to ignore—it forced her to halt.
"It seems you still haven't realized."
"The plan that night."
"To ensure there were absolutely no loose ends."
"To leave no survivors."
"I personally reassigned every guard, severed every line of communication. Even the release time for that Gastrea was calculated down to the minute."
"By all rights—"
"It should have been a flawless locked-room murder."
"You. Your parents. Even the household servants."
"Every last one of you should have died that night without a trace."
"And yet?"
Tendou Kikunojou's cloudy old eyes narrowed to slits, and a viper-like chill gleamed within them.
"You survived."
"Not only survived—you lost just one kidney."
"In that sealed environment, facing a berserk Gastrea."
"With that scrawny six-year-old body of yours."
"How exactly did you survive?"
Who had saved her?
In her memories...
It was the one person who had been her sole pillar of strength for these ten years.
—Satomi Rentarou.
That night, his body had shielded hers.
Even after losing his left hand and left foot, even after going blind in one eye—Satomi Rentarou had clung to her with everything he had, refusing to let go until rescue arrived.
But.
Confronted with the loaded implications behind Tendou Kikunojou's words, Tendou Kisara's face went a shade paler.
After all, she clearly remembered how much her grandfather had valued Rentarou ten years ago. Within the family, Rentarou's standing had even surpassed hers—the biological granddaughter.
But what did that prove?
After the disaster, hadn't Rentarou still chosen without hesitation to leave the Tendou family with her?
However.
The very next second.
"Haven't you ever wondered?"
"That night, for the cleansing operation, I had every single member of the Tendou family removed from the premises under various pretexts!"
"So why, then, did Rentarou just happen to be there?"
BOOM—!
The moment those words left his mouth.
That sentence struck like a bolt of lightning, tearing through the fog in an instant.
Tendou Kisara's pupils contracted violently.
Her body swayed, nearly losing its balance.
"So... why?"
"Rentarou is a genius."
"His nose for politics is a hundred times sharper than your hopelessly foolish father's."
"Three days before your father made his move—"
"He had already detected the unusual stirrings within the family."
"Including Hinata's abnormal guard reassignments."
"Including Gentaku's preparations to suppress information."
"Even including the whispers about Kitoshi procuring that thing through the black market."
"Anyone with half a brain could connect those dots and figure out most of what was coming."
"But."
"Kisara."
Tendou Kikunojou paused. A flicker of admiration passed through his cloudy eyes.
"Rentarou was far, far cleverer than your father!"
"He didn't choose to blow the whistle!"
"Because he knew full well I was monitoring his every move!"
"And at his level of standing at the time, there was simply no way to defy the collective will of the entire Tendou family!"
"Even if he had spoken up."
"Even if your father had believed him—then what?"
"The Tendou family's blade would have hung over your father's head forever!"
"As long as your father drew breath, the purge would never stop!"
"Dodge it once, and there'd be a next time!"
"The moment he dared to leak a word—"
"I would have killed him along with the rest!"
"But."
"What I never, ever expected—"
"Was that on that night—"
"He made a decision that even I had to admire!"
"Sacrifice the chariot to save the king!"
Sacrifice the chariot to save the king?
Her parents were the chariot?
She was the king?
The moment those words registered, Tendou Kisara's body lurched violently. She nearly lost her grip on the blade in her hand.
"Since the tide couldn't be turned—since there was no saving a ship already destined to sink—"
"Then why not simply abandon it!"
"Abandon that doomed couple!"
"And bet everything on the piece most likely to survive!"
"Which was you!"
"Kisara!"
"As long as he could save you that night."
"As long as he could make you owe him your life."
"Then from the standpoint of both gratitude and moral obligation—"
"His position within the Tendou family would become unshakable."
"One could even say—"
"He could have climbed right over your parents' corpses to pave a path of survival for you! And a golden road of meteoric ascent for himself!"
"But what a pity!"
"That should have been the smartest play!"
"Binding you permanently to his chariot!"
"Even I, after witnessing his resolve, couldn't help but regard him in a new light!"
"And yet—!"
"Who could have predicted!"
"He calculated everything perfectly!"
"Except for the one thing he never accounted for—that you'd turn out to be the same kind of bull-headed fool as your father, incapable of bending with the wind!"
"If only you'd pretended to know nothing! Even just for the sake of staying alive! Continued clinging to the Tendou family like a parasite!"
"With your talent in swordsmanship, combined with his gift for politics—"
"By today, ten years later—"
"The two of you could have become the Tendou family's most dazzling twin stars!"
"He would have become a rising star on the political stage! Perhaps even inherited the very power I hold!"
"You would have become an invincible Sword Saint! The sharpest blade of the entire family!"
"You could have had everything! Fame! Status! Power!"
"Instead of what you are now!"
"One turned into a crippled lunatic who can do nothing but swing a sword!"
"And the other turned into a stray dog wallowing in the slums, all for the sake of that laughable sense of goodness!"
A stray dog.
A lunatic.
That was all her decade of clenching her teeth and enduring amounted to, in this old man's eyes.
Utterly worthless.
Laughably so.
"Rentarou, he... he's not that kind of person..."
Even now—even pushed this far—Tendou Kisara's voice was still trembling.
A struggle where reason screamed that the other side was telling the truth, yet every fiber of emotion fought desperately to deny it.
After all, this was the only pillar of strength she'd had left since losing her parents ten years ago.
However.
This old man who had held power for decades understood his granddaughter's family all too well.
On the surface, she looked like an unsheathed cursed blade of vengeance—razor-sharp, lethal at the first taste of blood, as if she would sever any bond for the sake of revenge.
But in truth? Deep down, every one of them still clung to that laughable shred of naivety, still craved that hollow scrap of warmth.
—Satomi Rentarou.
He was the final refuge of that weakness.
Shatter that refuge, and her blade would be broken too.
And so—
Tendou Kikunojou cut coldly through Tendou Kisara's thoughts.
"Whether or not he's that kind of person—you've already had the answer in your heart all along, haven't you?"
Tendou Kikunojou gave her not a single moment to catch her breath.
Leaning on his cane, he took a step forward, boring his gaze into Tendou Kisara's eyes—eyes that had already begun to waver and lose focus—and pressed on.
"Think carefully!"
"These past ten years!"
"Every single time you wanted to pursue your revenge!"
"Every single time you found the faintest thread of a clue and tried to chase the truth!"
"What did he do?"
Tendou Kikunojou's voice wasn't loud, yet each word fell like a sledgehammer, blow after blow, crashing against Tendou Kisara's chest.
"Didn't he always tell you to let it go!"
"Didn't he always say that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind!"
"Didn't he always look at you with those pitying, holier-than-thou eyes—as if you were an unreasonable child, and he were some saint indulging your tantrums!"
"Why!"
"Because he was just as guilty!"
"Because he knew, better than anyone, that the moment the truth came out—the moment you learned what he had done that year, learned that he too was an accomplice in your parents' deaths—"
"You wouldn't just hate the Tendou family."
"You would hate him too!"
BOOM—
Now.
With Tendou Kikunojou's words laying it bare—
Scene after scene from the past decade—moments she had deliberately overlooked, moments she had explained away with "Rentarou is just looking out for me"—flashed through Tendou Kisara's mind like a revolving lantern, one after another in frenzied succession.
No wonder.
No wonder every time she brought up revenge, Satomi Rentarou would knit his brow with that look of deep anguish, as if she were committing some unforgivable sin.
—"Kisara-nee, let it go."
—"That path will only drag you deeper into the darkness. I don't want to see you become that."
—"More than revenge, I just want you to live a good life. Like a normal girl."
—"Your parents, watching from above, surely wouldn't want to see you turn out like this."
Looking back at those words now—every single one was a knife dipped in poison.
Why had Satomi Rentarou been so evasive about the details of that night ten years ago?
Why had Satomi Rentarou—himself a victim who had lost limbs—been so resistant to the idea of revenge against the Tendou family, always urging her toward reconciliation instead?
Why had Satomi Rentarou always carried that strange, inexplicable guilt whenever he faced anyone from the Tendou family—as though he owed them something?
So that was it.
So that was it!
Turns out everyone was the same!
All of it was calculation!
All of it was filth!
There had never been any black or white in this world! No justice or evil to speak of!
Only those who devour—
And those who are devoured!
It had to be said—this old fox's ability to manipulate the human heart was nothing short of masterful.
His psychological warfare was played to perfection.
In just a few short sentences, he had utterly shattered the psychological defenses of a Tendou Kisara who had been brimming with murderous intent and hunger for vengeance.
Not only had he killed the spirit while sparing the body—
He had even managed to strip away the protagonist's halo from Satomi Rentarou—who was probably sitting at home eating his bento right now, blissfully unaware of any of this.
Now that was interesting.
As a transmigrator who had thoroughly read the script, Haimer knew perfectly well what was going on.
Tendou Kikunojou's speech was seventy percent lies and thirty percent truth.
Satomi Rentarou was perhaps genuinely indecisive in temperament—even infuriatingly so at times, enough to send one's blood pressure through the roof. But to claim that his desperate, life-risking rescue of Kisara at the age of six was some calculated political maneuver? In all likelihood, it had been nothing more than a child's instinctive, self-sacrificing heroism. Nowhere near as sinister as this old man painted it.
But—
Did that matter?
For Tendou Kisara in this moment, it no longer mattered in the slightest.
What mattered was that the logic formed a closed loop.
This was the dark side of the human heart.
Once you accepted the premise, every beautiful memory would curdle into sickening calculation.
Tendou Kikunojou's objective had been achieved.
After accepting the premise that the Tendou family operated entirely on calculation—
Within this already-warped worldview, "an exchange of interests" sounded far more plausible than "pure goodwill."
And beyond that—
What came next.
Looking at Tendou Kisara—her sword hand now trembling violently, the flame called vengeance gradually guttering out in her eyes—
Tendou Kikunojou, by contrast, wore an expression of perfect composure.
One might even call it the tragic grandeur of a martyr. He slowly spread his arms wide, offering his own chest directly to the blade.
"Enough."
"Ancient history. Belaboring it serves no purpose."
"Since you've decided that I'm the mastermind, then go ahead!"
"Kill me!"
"Kisara!"
"Come on!"
"But—!"
Tendou Kikunojou's tone abruptly shifted, turning colder still.
"Before your blade goes in, you had better think this through!"
"I may be nothing but a dried-up old tree, but as long as these old bones still occupy this seat—as long as I still draw breath—the sky above the Tokyo Area will not fall!"
"But should I die!"
"Hmph."
Tendou Kikunojou let out a cold snort.
"You should know!"
"Right now, the upper echelons of the Tokyo Area's military, political, and business circles—which seat doesn't have one of my people in it?"
"The moment I die tonight—"
"Every conflict I've been suppressing through sheer reputation and cunning—every beast I've kept locked in its cage—will spiral completely out of control overnight!"
"The heavy industry conglomerates in Osaka have been salivating over Tokyo's markets for years! The warlords in Hakata are watching like tigers, itching to pounce and tear off a chunk of flesh!"
"The reason our Tokyo Area has managed to stand firm in this wolf-infested wasteland—to maintain even this veneer of prosperity—what do you think it rests on?"
"The world's highest mineral output?"
"No!"
"It rests on the delicate balance of power that I built over decades of dancing on the edge of a knife!"
"Resources alone!"
"Without status!"
"The Tokyo Area would have been finished long ago!"
"It was I who preserved all of this!"
"The moment I die!"
"That balance of power collapses in an instant!"
"The factional infighting I've been suppressing will erupt in full force!"
"The military, the zaibatsu, the police, the civil security organizations... all those hypocrites who put on respectable faces—they'll tear this city to pieces like rabid dogs fighting over the power vacuum I leave behind!"
"You won't even need to wait a year for the Monoliths to fail and the Gastrea to pour in!"
"One single night!"
"And the Tokyo Area will descend into civil war! Gunfire will echo through every district! Flames will consume every building!"
"A catastrophe of blood and fire!"
"Rivers of blood!"
"And when that happens..."
Tendou Kikunojou locked his gaze onto Tendou Kisara's eyes—already wavering—and spoke with glacial deliberation, each word a killing blow.
"The entire Tokyo Area! Millions of innocent civilians! They will all be buried alongside me!"
"Your revenge!"
"Will drag every last life in this city down as sacrificial offerings for my funeral pyre!"
"So come on!"
"For the sake of your petty, selfish vendetta! For the sake of your laughable hatred!"
"Do it!"
"Let the millions in the Tokyo Area join me on the road to the underworld!!!"
Dead silence.
The entire conference room sank into a suffocating quiet.
So silent that even a pin dropping would have been deafening.
It had to be said—the man was formidable.
Truly, terrifyingly formidable.
A veteran politician who had spent the better part of his life crawling through the trenches of this post-apocalyptic political arena, and it showed.
Haimer's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied this old man with keen interest—a man who, even with the blade at his throat, could still flip the entire board.
With the tip of the sword literally pressed against his heart, Tendou Kikunojou had managed to reverse the situation entirely. He placed himself atop the moral high ground, wielding righteousness and the lives of the masses as his shield, forcing Tendou Kisara into an impossible dilemma.
Now that was the psychological fortitude a final boss ought to have.
A politician who mouthed grand principles while being utterly selfish to the core—the kind of person who was equal parts formidable and nauseating.
"..."
And moreover—the strategy demonstrably worked.
In the face of Tendou Kikunojou's gambit, the Holy Emperor and the other ministers—who had only moments ago been paralyzed with terror over Tendou Kazumitsu's gruesome death—now went deathly pale, their expressions shifting entirely.
The Holy Emperor especially. She looked as though her entire worldview had crumbled, hands clasped over her mouth, eyes wide as saucers.
She had never imagined that this loyal, steady aide—the one she had always trusted to exhaust himself in service to the nation—was capable of scheming to this degree.
That he would dare hold the lives of the entire Tokyo Area hostage.
But.
Tendou Kikunojou clearly no longer cared about any of that.
Since the fig leaf had already been ripped away by force—since every one of the Tendou family's unspeakable deeds had been dragged out into the light—then why bother pretending anymore?
As long as the ultimate objective could be achieved—
—Protecting the Tendou family.
Even if it meant utter disgrace in his final moments, even if it meant bearing the scorn of ten thousand generations—for this old man who had carved family interests into his very marrow, none of it mattered.
And moreover.
The other ministers, as administrators of this region, understood perfectly well the weight of Tendou Kikunojou's words.
This was no idle threat.
If Tendou Kikunojou truly died suddenly tonight, the entire Tokyo Area would be like a speeding train that had just lost its driver—derailing, overturning, and exploding in the blink of an eye.
"..."
Both of Tendou Kisara's hands were shaking violently.
The cursed blade called Yukikage was an edge that could cleave steel as easily as paper.
The tip of her sword was now mere centimeters from Tendou Kikunojou's heart.
Right now—all she had to do was nudge it forward, ever so gently.
And it would all be over.
She could kill the mastermind behind her parents' deaths. End this decade-long nightmare.
But...
Civil war?
Millions of lives?
In that moment, two voices were tearing each other apart inside Tendou Kisara's mind.
If...
If Rentarou were here, he would definitely rush forward and stop her, wouldn't he?
He would grab her hand, and in that pained, anguished tone of his, say: "Kisara-nee! You can't kill him! For everyone's sake! For the Tokyo Area! Just bear with it!"
Yes. That was exactly the kind of thing that guy would say.
For the greater good.
For so-called peace.
What did the blood debt for her parents' murder amount to?
What did her ten years of suffering amount to?
As long as she sacrificed her own hatred, she could buy peace for millions of people—what a bargain, right?
Just grit her teeth and endure...
Just swallow her pride like a dog...
But...
Why should she?
Grit her teeth? For the Tokyo Area? For these people who were rotten to the core?
To hell with that!
In that instant, a surge of savage fury slammed into the top of Tendou Kisara's skull.
That man's words didn't matter anymore!
That hypocrite who always told her to be good, always told her to let go—he was already gone!
If the world had never shown her an ounce of kindness, why should she bend over backward for the world's sake?
Violence flooded Tendou Kisara's eyes.
After everything she had been through—this world that only demanded she compromise, only demanded she endure—it no longer mattered.
Tendou Kisara raised those eyes—eyes that had lost all light—and looked toward Haimer.
Since she had been chosen by a God.
Even though she still wasn't sure whether this man was truly divine, or what kind of God he might be—none of that mattered anymore.
She had already slain her own blood kin with her own hands, transformed herself into a demon of carnage, and offered up everything she had to the divine.
Since that was the case...
Then the will of God would be the only principle by which she lived.
And so—
Before the horrified eyes of everyone in the room.
"Kami-sama..."
"If... if I kill this man..."
"Will this place... truly be destroyed?"
Tendou Kisara began to seek her God's counsel.
Or rather—she was waiting for permission.
Permission to bring down this blade, even if it meant shouldering the condemnation of the entire world.
"...!"
Whoosh!
Every gaze in the room instantly converged on the man who had remained silent all this time.
So she finally asked.
Tendou Kikunojou looked over, his eyes brimming with wariness.
He couldn't read this man. Couldn't read him at all.
From the moment of his arrival until now, this man had been like a shroud of mist—not a single emotional fluctuation belonging to a human being had surfaced.
The Holy Emperor was so tense she was on the verge of passing out. Her hands were wrung together so tightly that her nails had dug deep into her flesh. Inside her mind, she was praying with every ounce of her being.
Gods... since you possess such tremendous power, since you are called a God—then please, show divine mercy!
Please don't...
However.
Haimer did not answer directly.
Instead, he slowly rose to his feet and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the glittering lights of the Tokyo Area below.
"Destruction?"
"Miss Tendou."
"Tell me."
"Beneath the seemingly prosperous glow of this city—what sound do you think it's actually making?"
Without waiting for Tendou Kisara's answer—without waiting for anyone to even react—Haimer supplied his own.
"The sound of rotting."
BOOM—!
A handful of simple words, yet they crashed against every heart in the room like a battering ram.
"This city. This country. This entire world—it's all been rotten to the core for a long, long time."
"Your so-called peace is nothing more than a mirage built on lies. Your so-called prosperity is nothing but the dying afterglow, fueled by the lives of those children."
"Look at those girls shivering in the slums—the ones you call 'Cursed Children.' Now look at all of you, sitting here in your fine clothes."
"This world is well and truly rotten."
"Since it's already rotted this far—"
"There's no point in patching it up."
"If the old order doesn't collapse, how can a new one ever rise?!"
"Destruction and rebirth have always been inseparable twins."
"Therefore—"
"From the moment I descended upon this world, the transformation of this old era was already a certainty!"
"The upheaval will begin at dawn tomorrow."
"Every sinner on this planet, every soul who dares to obstruct the will of the divine—they will perish in the maw of the Gastrea, as sacrificial offerings to the new age!"
"I don't care who rules this world, and I couldn't care less how many die."
"As for sanctuary..."
"I suppose only the truly pure light will have a place in the coming Judgment."
Haimer extended a finger and pointed casually at the Holy Emperor.
The Holy Emperor's entire body shuddered.
"So—"
Haimer turned to Tendou Kisara.
"Don't worry about any of that."
"Civil war? Millions buried alongside him?"
"In a world destined for a Great Cleansing, that question is utterly meaningless."
"As a member of my Familia, you need not be shackled by anyone's rules."
"Whatever you wish to do—even if it means punching a hole through the heavens themselves—"
"God is here."
The moment those words left his mouth—
The entire room was stricken with horror.
The Holy Emperor stared at Haimer in utter disbelief.
Luring the Gastrea into the city? Cleansing sinners?
Was this truly something a God would do? Wasn't this the work of an evil God bent on destroying the world?
She looked pleadingly toward Tendou Kisara, hoping to see even the faintest flicker of hesitation in the eyes of this girl her own age.
However.
If it had been the old Tendou Kisara, perhaps she would have felt a twinge of concern.
But now...
She had come to fully believe that this God of hers was absolutely not some benevolent deity overflowing with compassion.
But so what?
That suited her just fine.
She herself was no ally of justice. She was a vengeful demon.
Justice couldn't save her. Kindness couldn't save her.
Then let destruction come!
As long as she could have her revenge—even if it meant dragging this entire world down to hell—what of it!
"Thank you... Kami-sama."
Tendou Kisara murmured, her voice carrying the quiet finality of someone who had found release at last.
The next second, she turned her head toward Tendou Kikunojou.
This time, there was no confusion in her eyes. Only a pure, heart-stopping killing intent remained.
"It seems your bargaining chip is no longer valid, Grandfather."
Tendou Kikunojou's pupils contracted violently.
His mouth opened, as though he wanted to say something.
But it was too late.
A flash of cold light.
Hand up.
Blade down.
Squelch!
The sound of steel piercing flesh rang out.
"Ngh..."
Blood sprayed.
Warm liquid splashed across Tendou Kisara's cheeks, adding a stroke of macabre beauty.
Tendou Kikunojou's eyes went wide with disbelief.
A muffled gurgle bubbled up from his throat.
Both hands flew to clutch his neck as he staggered backward. Blood gushed between his fingers in torrents, staining his montsuki haori—that garment symbolizing power—a deep, spreading crimson.
He couldn't believe it.
She had actually done it?
This granddaughter he had watched grow up had truly stopped caring about those millions of lives? Truly stopped caring about the survival of the Tokyo Area?
And yet—
Even through the searing agony, this seasoned politician still managed to detect something wrong.
The strike had avoided the major arteries.
It had pierced precisely through the muscles on the side of his neck, destroyed his vocal cords, severed part of his nerves—yet perfectly spared every vital point that would have killed him instantly.
"Ghhh... ghhh..."
Tendou Kikunojou stared in disbelief, trying to speak, but all that came out were ragged, animalistic snarls, mingled with more unstoppable rivulets of blood.
In this moment—this aide who had once commanded absolute authority, who needed only a single word to decide the fates of countless souls—had been reduced to a cripple in an instant.
A cripple who couldn't even speak.
Tendou Kisara walked forward with her blood-dripping Yukikage, step by step, until she stood directly before Tendou Kikunojou. She looked down at him with cold, pitiless eyes.
"Grandfather."
"All those years you spent in the political arena, all those hearts you manipulated—"
"It's come back around as a boomerang. You couldn't even track the speed of my blade."
"Now."
"Letting you die this easily would be far too generous."
"I'm going to keep you alive until the very end. Force your eyes open and make you watch!"
"Watch the Tendou family you've cherished all your life—watch it crumble to nothing!"
"I'll hunt down every last person who bears the Tendou name, one by one!"
"Tendou Hinata. Tendou Gentaku. Tendou Kitoshi..."
"And your bastard children! Your branch-family relatives!"
"I will take their heads, right before your eyes!"
And with that—as Tendou Kisara swore her poisonous oath—
Outside the window, a sickly pale moon had quietly risen into the night sky, gazing coldly down upon this earthly hell.
Meanwhile.
Orario.
Sunlight was filtering through the curtains, spilling into the second floor.
"Mmm..."
Hestia let out a drowsy little mumble, rolled over, and rubbed at her bleary eyes.
Her nose twitched.
"Hm?"
An enticing aroma drifted into her nostrils.
"Smells so good..."
Hestia was more than halfway awake now.
She bolted upright, looking left and right.
The second-floor bedroom of the mansion was spacious enough to roll around in, and the bed was one of those divinely soft cloud-silk mattresses—so comfortable it made you never want to get up.
But.
When Hestia turned her head, she saw it.
Right there on the round table beside the bed—a gorgeous, steaming hot breakfast had been laid out!
Toast, golden-brown and perfectly crisp! Bacon, fried to just the right degree! And a glass of warm milk!
"Whoooa—!"
Hestia's eyes instantly transformed into starbursts, and a suspicious droplet of liquid even trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"Haimer actually sent breakfast to my room?!"
Hestia was so moved she could have cried.
This was in her room! Not in the main hall! Not a group meal!
And what did that mean?
It meant Haimer had set this aside specifically for her! This was love! This was the sacred bond that could only exist between the two of them as divine friends!
"Mmmmph, so good! It's amazing!"
Hestia wasted not a single second. She leaped barefoot out of bed—didn't even bother with shoes, let alone washing up—and threw herself at the table, devouring everything in sight.
The salty richness of bacon exploded across her tongue. The smooth warmth of milk slid down her throat.
Was this what happiness tasted like?
And so—
Moments later.
Having demolished every last crumb, Hestia patted her round little tummy with deep satisfaction and let out a blissfully undignified burp.
Full belly, great mood.
Since Haimer had been so thoughtful, she supposed she'd grace him with a visit out of the magnanimity of her divine heart!
And while she was at it, maybe ask if there were any outings planned for today—perhaps he'd take her out for more fun!
With that thought, Hestia tidied herself up, humming an unidentifiable little tune as she bounced and skipped out of her room. She made her way down the second-floor corridor and arrived at the door of the master bedroom at the far end.
"Haimer~ Haimer~ Rise and shine, sleepyhead~"
Sure, this was Haimer's private chamber.
But who was she?
She was Hestia! His best friend from the Heavens! His closest divine companion in the Lower World! What was the big deal about popping into his room?
"Coming in~"
And so—Hestia called out cheerfully as she pushed the door wide open without a care in the world.
However.
The very next second, Hestia's voice died in her throat.
As if an invisible giant hand had seized her by the neck.
Inside the room.
The morning light was radiant.
Haimer was nowhere to be found.
But someone else was.
A figure stood with her back to the door.
A body brimming with wild, feral beauty.
Black hair cascaded like a waterfall down a snow-white back.
Long, slender legs. A narrow waist. And the curve of those pert hips—all blindingly pale in the morning light.
And most importantly—
On that skin, which should have been flawlessly white—
Across the nape, the back, the sides of the waist, the thighs...
A dense constellation of blue-purple bruises, along with certain reddish marks that even a virgin goddess could read at a single glance.
And that wasn't all.
This person was in the middle of unhurriedly picking up a man's shirt from the floor and slowly slipping it on.
At the sound of the door opening, the figure's movements paused briefly. Then she turned her head.
Japanese features. Long, straight black hair.
Without question.
This woman was none other than Amou Kirukiru.
In that moment—
Hestia, the virgin goddess, had her eyes blown wider than saucers.
"Huh?"
"Huh huh huh—?!?!"
"Wh-wh-why are you in here?!?!"
____
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