The island where the city of wizards was located was a type of volcanic island.
Born from a submarine volcano, the island had grown to a considerable size for an island, and the wizards who founded the city used magic on the volcanic island to further expand it.
Through such magical adjustments, the volcanic island in the night sea became a dormant volcano, and the city emerged centered around this now-dead volcano.
The dye shop was situated halfway up the volcanic island.
This special dye shop used dyes made by melting iron and blue iron, imported from the southern continent and imbued with mana, to bestow magic onto clothing or accessories.
Because of its uniqueness, there were no non-magical individuals from the owner down to the staff.
In fact, considering how rare it was to find a non-wizard within this city, it wasn’t particularly unusual.
Aslan arrived at the dye shop and saw beyond the scene where Ereta, embarrassed but unwilling to let go, was working.
Except for the workshop where colors were being applied to molten blue iron and magic was being inscribed, the rest of the space might as well have been an exhibition hall displaying finished products.
And right in the middle of that exhibition hall hung the wing of a Steamfalos.
A piece of equipment taken from a predator, which had also served its purpose in battles against high-ranking priests like the Dragon King and Ash.
The feather cloak had been fully dyed and dried with a dark-tinted dye, transforming it into a black feather cloak.
The voluminous black feathers cascaded down to the waist in a long cloak.
Despite its length, the dye on the feathers was seamlessly engraved with both Manifestation School distortion magic and Transformation School self-repairing magic.
One of the employees, who had been standing there blankly, snapped out of it upon sensing someone approach. Recognizing Ereta immediately, they gently took down the cloak and handed it to her.
Seeing the hint of regret in her expression, Aslan could tell why she felt this way. Ignoring that feeling, Ereta handed the cloak over to Aslan.
“How’s it look? Is it okay?”
Indeed, as she said, the black feather cloak was not bad.
Given that it was named after the monstrous bird with brass wings from Greece, one might argue it deserved to be called Steamfalos. However, the satisfaction derived from both the engraved magic and its appearance far outweighed any such considerations.
The inscribed distortion magic belonged to the Manifestation School — a type designed to protect the wearer from incoming projectiles. While Aslan was already capable of catching and returning flying arrows, having this would allow for even more diverse options.
What about the automatic repair function? Though it did consume the mana from the enchanted dye itself, considering Aslan’s doubled durability consumption, it was an excellent choice.
It wasn’t bad. In fact, it was rather good. Aslan wrapped himself in the cloak and appreciated how well it complemented his armor with its dark hue.
“Thanks. How much did it cost? I’ll cover half.”
Given the complexity of the inscribed magic, the cost wouldn’t be trivial. Aslan thought it unlikely that Ereta had enough money and began counting the gold coins in his pouch tied to his waist.
“It’s a secret.”
Ereta watched Aslan’s actions with a satisfied smile, then shook her head as she spoke.
“It’s just a gift. Take it, without any arguments.”
Not a seductive smile, but one tinged with various fleeting emotions. Understanding their depth, Aslan closed his mouth, and the woman gently took his hand, leading him while saying:
“Anyway, it’s my slush fund from when I was a high priestess. Money donated by followers, so it doesn’t really matter how it’s spent. Besides, I’ve already paid for it.”
Aslan followed the woman as she led him out of the dye shop, and indeed, no one stopped them, confirming the “already paid” claim.
Once outside, as the sea breeze ruffled their hair, the woman released Aslan’s hand.
“If you really want to thank me, will you come somewhere with me?”
There was no reason for Aslan to refuse. He nodded, and the woman walked ahead leisurely, watching the setting sun.
With each step, the sound of her heels clicked softly. Aslan followed her gaze toward the sunset and sensed the lurking gazes of evil deities beyond it.
Yet despite those ominous eyes, the city remained beautiful.
The sky painted red stretched over the sea, glowing ambiguously between crimson and gold at its horizon. Shadows danced across the burning sea, and encroaching darkness signaled the setting sun.
Aslan turned his head to look at Ereta when she stopped walking. The woman had seated herself beneath a tree, its leaves similarly reddened by the setting sun.
Beyond the railing, the cityscape spread out as if untouched by recent events.
Among the sights was the plaza where Aslan had fought Ash. Approaching the railing, Aslan looked down at it.
Though inevitable defeat mingled with accidental victory, Aslan had protected his comrades. Losing his left eye was preferable to losing a comrade. Gazing down through his dimmed left eye, he noticed Ereta standing beside him.
“I had fun today.”
Did she?
They hadn’t done anything particularly special. Reflecting on how Ereta had fretted to help and given her all during the battle with Ash brought a sense of guilt.
“Really…?”
Aslan’s tone carried doubt, and Ereta, understanding his skepticism, smiled brightly.
“Yes, what about you, Aslan?”
Leaning on the railing and tilting her head slightly, she asked. Avoiding the subtle curve of her profile, Aslan turned his gaze to the landscape. As he did, she chuckled softly, and Aslan found himself smiling faintly in response.
“I think I did.”
Truthfully, it was impossible not to enjoy it. Aslan liked people and found joy in small things because of it. Acknowledging this merely made him feel a little shy.
Ereta seemed to want a clearer answer and pouted, resting her cheek on her arm.
“You should say it clearly when you’re happy. It makes me happier. You dummy.”
Was she imitating Phey? Aslan chuckled, and Ereta smiled gently before turning her head towards the sunset.
The sun sinking side by side appeared to slowly descend into the sea. The stretching shadows were red, and seeing that red, Ereta could only think of one thing.
“To be honest, I’m still worried about my mother.”
Aslan didn’t respond, but the woman gazed at the city with eyes clouded by some guilt or longing. This city was once a place where she felt nothing.
“What happened to my mother? Is she alive…?”
Murmuring these words, Aslan gripped the railing tightly, and Ereta looked at his hand with a sad smile.
“If she’s alive… Why did she abandon me? What does she think of me…? I’m curious, but also afraid.”
She wondered why her mother had abandoned her. Was she so wrong that all the love and care meant nothing?
On the other hand, she was afraid.
Afraid that despite all the love and care, she might have been such a bad child.
Afraid that if she hadn’t been abandoned, she wouldn’t have met Aslan.
Afraid of contemplating her feelings while observing this fragile city destined to burn away at the end of the universe.
Her fear and curiosity were overwhelming.
“If… it wasn’t another demon that consumed her and we meet again someday, I’d definitely ask her why she abandoned me.”
At her words, Aslan unconsciously tightened his grip on the railing, and Ereta looked at his hand with a sorrowful smile.
Glancing up at Aslan’s face, Ereta felt both sadness and happiness.
“Do you want to kill my mother, Aslan?”
Silence. But it was a silence of affirmation. Ereta detached herself from the railing and chuckled awkwardly.
The sea breeze tousled both the man’s and the woman’s hair as the silence stretched on. Anticipating various scenarios, Aslan prepared himself.
And yet, Ereta spoke contrary to his expectations.
“It’s fine if you kill her.”
An answer entirely different from what Aslan had braced for.
“In fact, I also think that if Aslan ever wanted to kill me, there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Turning her head, Aslan looked at her with swirling emotions in his eyes, and Ereta lowered her hands gently.
“I don’t want Aslan to hate me. I don’t want Aslan to leave me. I wish Aslan could forgive my mother and not kill her.”
A sad smile followed.
“But I know that won’t happen.”
Unable to respond, Aslan watched as Ereta closed her eyes.
“If I become a bad person, Aslan will hate me and leave me. My mother is an evil deity that Aslan must kill, and she must die.”
Opening her eyes again, Ereta tilted her head and looked at Aslan.
“I don’t want to die either. I’ve killed many people who didn’t want to die, so I think it’s fair if it happens to me.”
“Aslan.”
“I still don’t understand you completely. But I understood one thing. That I… might end up on the receiving end. That this happiness could be taken away from me anytime.”
Looking up at Aslan with a sad smile, her pink eyes stained red by the setting sun, Aslan opened and closed his mouth several times, struggling to speak.
Before he could utter a word, Ereta spoke, her face illuminated by the sunset.
“Aslan, didn’t you say you needed time? Didn’t you ask me to wait?”
Words from when Aslan woke up in Belus Alphen. Recalling them, Aslan nodded, and Ereta smiled.
“But I don’t think I can wait anymore. Right now, there’s something I want to do.”
Something she wanted to do.
Aslan couldn’t accept it.
If he did, it would make things difficult in the future. If Ereta were ever in danger, he would struggle to make rational decisions, and losing her would mean he might never stand up again.
So Aslan recognized her intention and blocked it.
When Ereta approached, raising herself on her toes to get closer, Aslan raised his palm to stop her.
Her kiss landed on his palm, and Aslan gave a bitter smile, trying to say something.
But before he could, Ereta’s eyes narrowed.
In those narrowed eyes, there was no regret or sorrow.
Instead, Aslan sensed a kind of desire in her mischievous gaze and widened his eyes.
The moment her innocent features were tinted with allure, Ereta wrapped her arms around Aslan’s neck.
Then, pressing hard past his palm, she forcefully pressed her lips against Aslan’s mouth.
Pressing so hard it almost hurt. A passionate kiss-like pressure.
Her heated breath escaped through the gaps in his fingers as she pressed her lips against his palm.
With her moist eyes closed tightly and trembling slightly, Aslan froze in confusion.
It was at that moment that Ereta pulled away. Unwrapping her arms from around his neck, she touched her lips lightly and smiled faintly.
“This is enough. Now I can wait.”
Caught off guard by this unexpected turn of events, Aslan stood there dumbfounded with wide eyes as Ereta giggled.
“Hehe, your face is red. You really are cute.”
While Ereta smiled contentedly, Aslan covered his face.
“You’re blushing, and it’s adorable.”
As Ereta laughed in satisfaction, Aslan unknowingly dropped his hand.
