A week had passed.
There hadn’t been much visible change at Netchagni Fortress.
This was because there had been far too many injured or dead soldiers, and also due to the presence of forces that could no longer leave their positions.
For instance, Anna Helmenius stayed behind, but the wizards who had traveled with her returned to the City of Wizards.
The draconic warriors from Belus Alphen also went back, leaving only a few troops behind, seemingly because they needed to select new elders following the death of their current chairman.
Despite having numerous unconscious soldiers and heroes, several diviners remained out of concern for the future of the alliance, though worry still lingered about what lay ahead.
Though it ended in victory for humanity, it was an exceedingly bitter one.
Amidst all this, Aslan couldn’t ask for reinforcements to accompany him.
Truthfully, he believed that just himself and Angie would suffice.
Thus, Aslan and Angie temporarily left Netchagni Fortress.
Their destination was clear, and the distance wasn’t very far.
They didn’t need much equipment either.
Equipped with only one horse and a small amount of food carried on it, the two crossed the windswept plains where salty breezes blew.
Their goal was the Battleground Fortress of the Supreme Divinity, otherwise known as the Sanctuary of the Supreme Divinity’s Fortress.
Turning southwest from Netchagni, they traversed the Briar Wilderness.
Passing the former site of Worpol, Aslan suddenly glanced at Angie walking beside the horse.
Walking lightly alongside the horse, she was once a girl but had abruptly transformed into a woman, a mount of an ancient deity.
Since she couldn’t find clothes that fit her properly, Angie had simply made some adjustments to her old ones. Consequently, she was now unintentionally wearing revealing attire.
While she seemed unconcerned unless it caused discomfort, Aslan found himself involuntarily glancing at her more than once.
Her originally well-fitting leather pants clung tightly to her legs, accentuating her curves.
The smooth brown leather, worn over time, softly followed the curve of her hips, emphasizing her long legs underneath.
When his gaze momentarily settled on her hips, he forced himself to look away, only to encounter another problem.
Angie’s top, which had previously reached slightly below her waist, had become so short that it barely covered her navel when she stretched.
The explosive growth effect, pushing her body to its limit, created pronounced curves, casting a significant shadow across her abdomen.
Unconsciously drawn to these curves, Aslan compared her to Lumel, imagining her to be perhaps just a step below Lumel’s level. He glanced at Lumel absentmindedly, then closed his eyes and shook his head lightly.
At least the magic attached to her shoes meant they didn’t need changing, which was fortunate; however, her clothing presented multiple issues, causing Aslan considerable discomfort even if Angie herself didn’t seem bothered.
Humans, after all, were creatures naturally drawn to sudden changes and contrasts, and Aslan was no exception.
Thinking this, Aslan idly stared off into space until Angie turned her head toward him.
“Aslan.”
“…Ah, what is it?”
Barely tearing his eyes away, Aslan continued to gaze at the horizon while gripping the reins, responding to the unexpected voice of the woman who looked back at him with a dull expression.
Once a girl with a wild yet tanned complexion, she now exuded a sculptural beauty akin to observing a fierce beast.
Aslan smiled as their eyes met, but Angie, maintaining her dull expression, glanced down a few times before turning back to him, her golden eyes subtly glowing with a faint heat.
What Aslan overlooked was crucial.
Lumel was simply accustomed to such gazes and paid them no mind, whereas Angie, having recently acquired this new body, was acutely sensitive to such stares.
Thus, her question was inevitable.
“Why do you keep looking at my butt?”
Startled, Aslan stammered as Angie, ready to reprimand him, narrowed her eyes.
“Do you like butts?”
And so, Aslan became flustered.
Slightly embarrassed, he tried to hide it and denied it outright.
“No, I haven’t. I was just looking at Angie….”
“Lie.”
Interrupting Aslan, Angie adopted a sullen expression, reminiscent of her previous self as a girl.
“Every time you look, your eyes linger on my chest or butt. You know I notice. Is something bothering you?”
“Bothering me? No, not at all.”
Of course not. At least, that’s what Aslan thought.
He considered it merely a natural attraction arising from such drastic changes.
Naturally, his excuses leaned in that direction.
“What’s bothering me? Nothing like that. It’s just… um, yeah. I’m worried because your body grew through divine power, so I’m checking if everything is alright.”
“If you’re worried, why look at my chest?”
“…Because it grew healthily, and I noticed without thinking.”
There was no lie in this statement.
Angie’s body epitomized healthiness.
Even though Lumel was well-trained, there was a certain dissonance between her massive bust, her curvy pelvis, and her separated muscles.
On the other hand, what about Angie?
Angie’s body was perfectly proportionate and radiated health.
Despite being a striking figure resulting from explosive growth, describing her as having grown healthily was entirely accurate.
Fortunately, Angie herself seemed to agree, relaxing her sullen expression.
“Is this healthy, then?”
She began to fondle her own chest over her clothes, wearing an expression of curiosity.
“And it’s inconvenient when I throw punches. They wobble, you know. Want to see?”
See what?
Before Aslan could protest from atop the horse, Angie threw a punch.
The airflow rippling around her fist scattered the grass wildly, simultaneously causing her chest to sway rhythmically.
‘What is this? Is she doing this on purpose?’
The unsettling sway was enough to make Aslan momentarily panic, almost resembling a calculated flirtation.
Regaining his composure after hesitating briefly, Aslan focused on Angie’s words.
“When running, too. How does Lumel fight with this attached?”
“Hmm, maybe because she wears armor?”
Whether this was truly the case was uncertain. Aslan had never seen Lumel change clothes or knew what undergarments she wore.
It was unclear whether armor alone would suffice.
“Hmm, armor. That might feel even tighter…”
Angie, returning to her dull expression, placed her hands on her hips. Amidst the rustling grass, the young woman paused mid-step, suddenly tilting her head to look around.
“By the way, is it because the grass is wet? My clothes keep getting damp whenever I brush against it.”
“That’s probably because it rained yesterday. This area often gets rain.”
Following Angie’s comment and turning his head, all Aslan could see was the wet, swaying grass. Naturally, Angie’s clothes were gradually becoming soaked as she walked through it.
Perhaps he should wrap her in Steamfalos’ wings, Aslan thought, but at that moment Angie extended her hand toward him.
“So, give me a ride. I’ll sit behind you.”
Smiling slightly, Angie retained much of the same demeanor from her days as a girl, though a different energy now rippled beneath her cheerful smile.
Momentarily hesitating upon seeing that smile, Aslan realized there was nothing objectionable in Angie’s request.
It was true that wet clothes were uncomfortable, and riding would prevent them from getting wet. Thus, giving her a ride was the right choice, though a strange premonition lingered that he might regret this decision.
Still, there was no way he could refuse his first companion’s request with just this vague foreboding, and Aslan took her hand.
Only after Angie prepared to climb aboard did he pull her up onto the horse.
The heavily reinforced packhorse, enhanced by Aslan’s abilities, didn’t budge at all with just one additional rider. Only the warm breath escaping its nostrils disrupted the cold air.
Angie, seated behind him, showed little reaction.
After all, this wasn’t her first time riding.
Aslan gripped the reins again and soon felt a localized weight pressing against the metallic feathers of Steamfalos’ cloak.
If Steamfalos’ wings had nerves, a soft gasp might have escaped at the gentle pressure transmitted through the metal feathers. Despite the barrier of the metallic cloak, the sensation was unmistakable.
The weight of her breasts pressing against his back.
Aslan tried hard not to pay attention.
He simply gave the reins a light flick to urge the horse forward.
Gently swaying atop the horse crossing the dew-soaked fields, the couple rocked gently.
Through this gentle swaying, Aslan became aware that her breasts were shifting repeatedly against his back.
And so, he couldn’t help but ask.
“…Are you uncomfortable?”
“Huh? Not really. It’s more comfortable than walking.”
Her voice carried no trace of passion or embarrassment—truly, she didn’t care. After all, Angie had ridden behind Aslan many times before, and every time, her chest had touched his back.
The awareness of her body’s changes was solely Aslan’s burden. Angie acted exactly as she always had.
Thus, Aslan wrestled with doubt, fearing his words might sound like harassment.
“Um… is your chest feeling cramped…?”
Casually turning his head to glance at Angie’s expression, he asked. The diminutive woman, roughly 20 centimeters shorter, tilted her head in puzzlement.
She adjusted the tight collar of her shirt to check, and Aslan quickly shut his eyes. Meanwhile, Angie looked down at her own bosom and shook her head.
“Not really? Actually, the warmth from the horse keeps my lower body warm, which is nice, but my chest feels a bit cold.”
Considering the increased surface area, Aslan nodded in understanding.
Just as he accepted this reasoning, Angie let out a small exclamation.
Then she lifted Steamfalos’ metallic cloak draped over Aslan’s shoulders. Pulling it higher, she pressed her body closer.
Draping herself under the raised metallic cloak, Angie snuggled up to Aslan, pressing her chest against his back and resting her cheek lightly on his shoulder blades.
The sudden mass pressing against his spine startled Aslan stiff, and Angie rubbed her cheek against his back.
“Angie…? Why…?”
“Hmm? Oh, this way it’ll be warmer. Is that okay?”
“It’s not that it’s not okay… but… never mind.”
It seemed unnecessarily cruel to focus on such details.
So Aslan fell silent, and Angie, exhaling softly, gently rubbed her cheek against Aslan’s back.
With her body pressed against Aslan’s back, Angie remained quiet for a while before letting out a long yawn.
“The warmth makes me sleepy… wake me when we arrive.”
Resting against Aslan’s back, breathing softly, Angie drifted off to sleep.
Still tightly pressed against him, Aslan appeared troubled, but he couldn’t say anything outright.
After all, Angie’s behavior hadn’t changed.
She was simply acting as she usually did.
It was just that her usual actions had become dramatically more intense due to her sudden bodily transformation.
This ignorance and familiarity paradoxically became a form of temptation.
With a deep sigh, Aslan urged the horse onward.
*
They arrived not long afterward.
Time-wise, it took about half a day. When they reached the Sanctuary of the Supreme Divinity’s Fortress, the gray buildings, dampened by recent rains, greeted them.
Awakening Angie, who had been dozing off snugly against his back, they tethered the horse at a distant forest edge before entering the sanctuary. By this time, the gray hue of the building was transitioning into a crimson glow under the setting sun.
To put it plainly, the Sanctuary of the Supreme Divinity’s Fortress was not a particularly safe place.
Inside were novice martial monks and devotees, along with several blacksmiths aiding them.
Among them, those deeply entangled with the deity aggressively attacked.
Had Aslan brought ordinary humans or soldiers, casualties would have been unavoidable, given the ferocity of their assaults.
But standing here were the ancient deity’s mounts, enhanced with strength and agility advantages.
Kicking alone could split bodies in half, and a single swing of Victory could cleave five foes simultaneously.
In front of Angie’s overwhelming speed and strength, nameless newly minted martial monks offered no resistance as she grabbed their necks and snapped them effortlessly.
Perhaps the lack of any intention to resist from the Supreme Divinity played a part, but the cleanup was straightforward, completed before the sun set.
‘They must have relocated their base or chosen another approach.’
As Aslan suspected, the sanctuary was essentially empty.
Only minor resistance and immovable items remained.
After finishing the cleanup, Angie tossed aside the martial monk she had just killed and spoke.
“Wasn’t there something to see here? Should we just kill everyone? Or maybe we should ask where things are located…”
“It’s fine. I already know where they are.”
Aslan’s sole purpose for coming here was none other than to read the stele where the Supreme Divinity had inscribed the names of veterans and their specialized fields.
The reason was clear.
Anton’s death.
Something Aslan failed to foresee and the most unexpected event from that day’s battle.
Certainly, the entire battle that day was unexpected, but Anton’s death stood out particularly.
Aslan involuntarily frowned as he moved forward. The sanctuary, now increasingly shrouded in shadows, echoed with his thoughts of Anton.
The great magical sage who died without leaving a trace of his soul.
The wizard who likely sacrificed his soul itself to create a massive explosion, eroding the Supreme Divinity’s Sword and buying time.
According to Aslan’s knowledge, Anton was the most powerful victim of paranoia, an egotistical wizard.
‘Why did you make such a choice, Anton?’
Aslan thought. He believed Anton would cling to life until the very end, providing aid to the party.
Acting more wisely, more selfishly.
Yet, defying such expectations, Anton vanished without a trace, leaving behind only the artificial cat he used to store his soul within the fortress.
‘Such an action isn’t like you.’
What had changed him so drastically to make such a decision at the twilight of his seventy-year life?
Aslan couldn’t understand.
For the dead cannot speak.
All that followed was a melancholy sigh.
Pausing briefly, Angie, who had been staring blankly at Aslan, approached and extended her hand.
A light touch to Aslan’s cheek—it was warm.
Turning his gaze absentmindedly, Aslan saw Angie smiling softly with her feline-like golden eyes.
“I don’t quite know what you’re thinking about… and even if I said something, it probably wouldn’t comfort you much.”
And with her warm hand, she gently caressed Aslan’s cheek.
“Cheer up. Your face makes my chest hurt.”
Indeed, it wasn’t particularly consoling advice.
But for Aslan, who had fought alone, it was sufficient.
Patting the hand resting on his cheek, Aslan smiled faintly and resumed walking.
With Anton’s death leaving the position of the Great Mage vacant, Aslan’s purpose for coming here was obvious.
To seek out and recruit the next Great Mage.
Or, if that proved impossible, at least to ascertain their whereabouts.
Additionally, there was an intention to confirm whether the Supreme Divinity intended to withdraw from the Northern Continent, though this was a secondary goal.
The primary objective was to find the next companion.
Without hesitation, Aslan moved towards this main goal and soon discovered a massive stele in the deepest chamber.
Placed atop a pedestal resembling a throne, the stele bore many names inscribed upon it.
From Aslan’s name to Phey, Ereta, Lumel, Richard, Tiamat, and others.
Before entering the game, this list was famously known in the community as the Supreme Divinity’s Bucket List.
Aslan scanned the lengthy inscription.
Near the bottom, he found the name he sought.
[Great Mage]
[Experiment Subject No. 4]
Upon seeing these words, Aslan’s expression hardened instantly.
Although Angie, who couldn’t read, couldn’t decipher the characters, even if she could, she wouldn’t have understood them.
Because the term “experiment subject” was written in an archaic language from the era of the ancient empire, long forgotten since the end of the human age.
Specifically, in Ancient Imperial Language.
To Aslan, the implication was simple.
This Great Mage resided in the southern continent, where magic was more advanced, and was either currently undergoing or had undergone magical experimentation, against their will.
In the southern continent, as far as Aslan knew, there weren’t many who could perform such acts.
The eccentric mages of Polaina Autonomous Mage District in the Principality of Polaina.
Or the especially eccentric and talented mages gathered in the Anuritin Council, plotting the infinite advancement of magic within that autonomous district.
Or inside the labyrinths scattered throughout the southern continent, laboratories created during the ancient imperial era.
The moment Aslan narrowed down the candidates, the characters engraved on the stele changed.
[Great Mage]
[Experiment Subject No. 5]
Candidates and changing characters. Upon seeing both, Aslan realized one fact.
That this new Great Mage was a magically created android.
That No. 4 had just died, and No. 5 had become the Great Mage.
Aslan grimaced uncomfortably, biting his lips at the reappearance of human malice after so long.
