Chương 7: Crimson Calamity

The light in Nerez's hand kept growing brighter. Even those who were trying to invoke their Eidolons for the first time turned to see what was happening. Or at least that was the idea, but the glow quickly became blinding.

"What happened to all that Sacred Darkness nonsense?!" Nerez shouted to himself.

"I can't see a thing with this much light!"

"An Eidolon is, in other words, a reflection of yourselves." Oblivious to the commotion spreading through the crowd, Zorovan calmly continued his explanation.

"As such, it offers a clue about the divinity you may one day attain." When the radiance finally began to fade, Nerez felt something heavy taking shape in his hand.

"A book?" Vilkie asked once she was finally able to lower her hand from her eyes.

"You're right, it's a book," Aren affirmed beside her. Nerez looked down at the heavy black leather book resting in his hands. At the center of the cover, an engraved silver skull lay bound beneath golden chains.

"Eidolons are more valuable than any artifact mortals could ever craft," Zorovan declared, raising his arms toward the crowd.

"But because they are a reflection of yourselves, they must develop and grow alongside you. Once you can bring out their true power, they will become your most valuable tool." Amid the crowd listening to the old god's words, a fist suddenly shot into the air in triumph.

"What's with you, Nerez?" Vilkie asked at his side.

"Are you really that happy with your Eidolon?" Nerez lowered his arm, still wearing a triumphant smile.

"Don't you see it?" he asked.

"I'm going to become the god of the library! The lord and master of peace and quiet!" Aren and Vilkie exchanged confused glances.

"I hate to tell you this, Nerez..." Aren said at last, glancing at his Godscript.

"But the challenge we were assigned isn't exactly peaceful..." Nerez turned to his own Godscript. Beneath the enormous letters indicating a new notice, the challenge assigned to him appeared in large bold text. [Battle Royale]"..."

"..."

"..."

"This is because you dragged me into your group! My Eidolon is a book! A book!" Nerez cried, dropping to his knees.

"I've heard the pen is mightier than the sword! But at least a pen has a pointy end! What am I supposed to do with a book?!"

"Mmm... maybe you can hit someone in the head with the corner..." Vilkie suggested, tilting her head.

"For someone with such a pretty face, you say some vicious things..." Nerez complained from the ground.

"Was that a compliment?"

"Never. I don't waste compliments on girls with boyfriends. Besides, what part of that sounded like a compliment to you?"

"Hmph!" Vilkie puffed out her cheeks and looked away.

"I'm tired of denying it all the time, so believe whatever you want."

"That sounds like a mini confession to me." Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"You're impossible!"

"And are you going to keep rubbing your love life in my face all day, or are you going to show us your Eidolon?"

"Aren already knows it," Vilkie said with a sigh, hands on her hips.

"If I bring it out here, it might kick someone."

"Kick someone...?"

"Vilkie, Nerez," Aren called, having been checking his Godscript until then.

"It looks like a lot of candidates got assigned to the battle royale. It's going to get a bit rough."

"Just what I needed," Nerez grumbled.

"Where do I go to exchange my Eidolon for something else?"

"Haha, relax, you're getting the wrong idea. Not every member of a faction or alliance has to take part in the same challenge," Aren explained.

"So, if you were assigned to the battle royale, it's not because of us, but because you have an affinity for whatever gets tested there, and that book of yours will surely be of help." Nerez let out a tired sigh. It was true that he had fought in no small number of wars, but that was exactly the opposite of keeping a low profile.

"Tell me, among the candidates you were checking on your Godscript, didn't you see someone with purple hair and lilac eyes participating in the battle royale?"

"Those traits are pretty common," Vilkie said.

"It'd be harder not to find someone who has at least one of the two."

"..."

"Why? Is that someone you know, Nerez?" Aren asked curiously.

"No, it's nothing..." Nerez replied, thinking of the man he had crossed paths with on his way out of the hall.

"Are you sure I can't switch to a challenge about who knits the best scarf?"

"I'm sure," Aren said with a smile, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Judging by your sword, I'd say you won't have any problems, Aren," Nerez said as he got back to his feet.

"But Vilkie, aren't you worried about being thrown into the middle of a free-for-all?"

"I was expecting it, honestly, after all the campaigns Aren and I have been through for our clan," Vilkie replied without the slightest concern.

"Besides, if anything goes wrong, you two will protect me, right?"

"Why do I get the feeling I'm the only one who's going to be working for free in that situation?" Nerez asked, crossing his arms.

"Still, I guess I don't have much choice..."

"You really don't," Vilkie said with a wide smile.

"Oh no!"

"Watch out!"

"Get back!"

"What's happening?" Vilkie asked, stepping closer to Aren.

"When the battle royale starts, finding out that kind of thing will be up to you and your Eidolon," Aren said. Vilkie nodded in response.

"But for now, we'll have to go see for ourselves." Aren motioned for the two of them to follow. The two demigods ran toward the source of the commotion, but Nerez remained where he was, staring up at the sky.

"Curiosity killed the cat... That's a saying I run into in every world, one way or another..." Nerez muttered to himself before letting out another tired sigh and heading after them.

Nerez pushed through the crowd until he finally reached Aren and Vilkie. At the center of a ring of onlookers stood what looked like the aftermath of a brief confrontation. That "looked like" part lasted only an instant, because there was no doubt the moment a bloodied head rolled to a stop at Nerez's feet.

"Odrian..." Nerez recognized him at once. He was the demigod who had confronted him just the day before.

"I thought the only possible outcomes in these challenges were ascending as a god or going back to where you came from..."

"In cases where the Divine Order is the one deciding, yes," Aren explained, closing his eyes in silent respect for the fallen.

"But this is the most common ending in events like the battle royale we'll be taking part in."

"Cerys, the Crimson Calamity... I see your title is well earned." Zorovan's voice rang out across the entire plaza once more. Even those who had not noticed the conflict fell silent."'Crimson'? I think that's overshadowing your sword," Nerez whispered to Aren, who only smiled faintly. His serious gaze remained fixed on the girl with blood-red twintails.

"Just to be clear, he was the one who challenged me to a duel," the girl named Cerys said, pointing with the tip of her lance at the head that had rolled to Nerez's feet. That was when her orange eyes, like glowing embers, settled on him. Almost instantly, she lunged at him.

"Cerys." But Zorovan's voice stopped her.

"As I understand it, the Festival of the Gods has already begun, has it not? Then what exactly is the problem, god of gods?"

"We must preserve at least a minimum of decorum," the old god replied.

"You were both participants in the battle royale, so I'll let it pass this time. But save your bloodlust until everyone is ready."

"Tch, I don't see what difference that's going to make," Cerys complained, flicking the blood from her lance in one sharp motion. After giving Nerez one last look, she turned and disappeared into the crowd, which hurriedly parted before her in terror.

"What's her problem? Does she have something against me?" Nerez asked as he watched those twintails vanish into the distance.

"Mm? Why am I getting a sense of deja vu?"

"Didn't you see the skull at the base of her lance?" Vilkie asked.

"Your book has one too."

"What? Just because of that? If anything, Aren's sword is the one stepping on the whole 'crimson' thing..."

"Aren's sword is called Oath's Edge..."

"That's not it, Nerez," Aren said.

"I'd say the two of you are competing for the same domain."

"... Does she want to be the goddess of the library too?"