“…”
Angie woke up in a room filled with lavish decorations that seemed out of place.
The sunlight spilling over the bed filled the room with shadows, and the wind blowing through the slightly opened window carried a faint salty scent.
The unfamiliar smell, along with the softness she felt against her back, was strange to her. As Angie sat up, she realized even the ceiling was unfamiliar.
“Here… ugh.”
As she sat up, her head throbbed. The excruciating pain that pierced deep into her bones made her groan as she clutched her head.
“Where am I…?”
Angie pressed her forehead with her palms, trying to recall her memories.
Her last memory was of a devastating defeat.
A hammer struck her faster than she could raise her arm to defend herself. Recalling how it had hit her three times, Angie instinctively touched her head.
“The wound… it’s gone.”
Her jaw, temples, and forehead were completely unblemished. Confused, Angie tilted her head.
After becoming the divine steed of an ancient deity and having her talent stimulated by Aslan’s magic, she had developed a body that healed from minor injuries within half a day.
But this recovery felt artificial, and even with her enhanced healing ability, these should have been difficult wounds to recover from.
It was definitely not a natural healing process.
“Did Aslan heal me with magic?”
Though the girl, who knew little about magic, couldn’t identify the exact spell or method used.
Perhaps her improved healing ability played a part, but her body didn’t feel much different from when she had fainted.
Her physical condition was fine. Despite the headache, she was clearly alive. Thinking this, Angie sighed.
“At that time… I might as well have been dead.”
The high priest was strong.
Overwhelmingly strong.
With her inferior strength and lack of skills, Angie couldn’t think of any way to defeat that high priest.
She hadn’t even been able to defend herself properly before blacking out—it was a complete defeat.
“If it had been the Tail Sector… I would have died.”
The girl’s name was Angela Tail. She lived in the Tail Sector, where the Tails, a group of impoverished people sharing that surname, resided.
The Tail Sector was a typical slum—a place where those unable to protect themselves perished.
Based on her experiences there, Angie considered herself as good as dead the moment the high priest struck her with the hammer.
But now, the girl was alive. If this bedroom, where the salty breeze blew, wasn’t some kind of afterlife, then she was undoubtedly still living.
And it wasn’t hard to guess why.
“Did Aslan save me?”
It frustrated her. The fact that she hadn’t been able to do anything, only boasting arrogantly before being utterly defeated.
Swallowing her frustration, the girl threw herself back onto the bed and closed her eyes.
“Damn it.”
She tightly shut her eyes. Time passed slowly, and during that time, the girl repeatedly recalled the image of the high priest.
Each time she thought of it, she remembered her defeat. Her lips trembled at the memory.
Just then…
There was a knock on the door.
Before she could respond or say anything, the sound of the door opening echoed, and someone entered.
Angie opened her eyes and saw Aslan walk in.
“Oh, you’re awake. That’s good.”
Aslan met Angie’s gaze and approached her, saying, “Good thing you woke up.”
Looking at Aslan, Angie thought,
“Why is this guy so strong?”
Just by the fact that she was alive, Angie understood that Aslan must have done something—either defeating or driving off the high priest.
Whether he truly defeated her or just ran away as he claimed, one thing was certain: he was stronger than her and had managed to overcome the situation.
“How can he be so… soft, yet so strong?”
The girl was puzzled by the strength Aslan had displayed and wondered about it.
Aslan was what one might call a moral person.
A rare type in this world.
Even though Angie had only experienced the lives of the poor in the Tail Sector, she was sure such people were few and far between.
Despite his immense power, Aslan showed a compassionate side.
Even to someone like Angie, who had led a short life, it was clear that Aslan was distinctly different.
What he wanted to do, what he had done with such strength—Angie didn’t know.
She hadn’t asked, and there was too much information for her to intuit.
Silently, she sat up.
“How’s your body? Is there anywhere… painful, or does your head hurt?”
Aslan casually sat down on the chair beside the bed and extended something toward her.
It was food—porridge made from boiled oats.
The girl accepted it. No matter what, she had to eat well. She hadn’t grown up in luxury enough to turn down food.
Using a wooden spoon, she shoveled the oat porridge into her mouth several times.
As the warm porridge entered her body, she realized how hungry she was. Quickly finishing the porridge, she said,
“Oh, I’m fine. I don’t have much going for me except my tough body.”
Aslan chuckled lightly at that.
“It’s good that you’re not discouraged. Being healthy is also a strength, so don’t worry too much.”
Aslan took the empty bowl. Angie furrowed her brow.
The girl found Aslan’s kindness awkward.
Partly because of the nature of the Tail Sector, where such soft-hearted people rarely survived long, and partly because growing up there had ingrained arrogance and toughness in her. Kind and gentle people always seemed to die quickly.
“You don’t need to worry about the high priest. Luckily, we managed to escape. Thanks to the time you bought us.”
Angie stared silently at Aslan as he spoke so calmly.
“Stop with the lame lies. I… wasn’t much use there. But still…”
Lowering her eyes, the girl scratched her cheek, embarrassed, and said,
“Thank you for saving me.”
“…We’re comrades, so it was only natural.”
Aslan answered calmly, but the girl felt uncomfortable with that response.
A comrade—one could rely on each other’s backs. When Aslan first suggested they travel together, he had used that phrase.
At first, Angie had been excited, but now she felt she had only been protected, without ever truly guarding Aslan’s back.
Since she hadn’t contributed much, the girl fell into a melancholic mood.
Seeing her lower her gaze, Aslan steadily looked at Angie. He waited until she noticed his gaze and looked up.
Their eyes met, and Aslan tilted his head slightly with a comforting smile. Unable to bear it, the girl blurted out,
“Why are you so strong?”
Caught off guard by the question, Aslan widened his eyes briefly before resting his chin on his hand.
After pondering for a moment, the man revealed his emotions through his emerald green eyes as he answered,
“Hmm…”
And he smiled.
But it wasn’t just any smile.
It was a sorrowful, almost heartbroken smile.
Angie instinctively sensed the emotions packed into that expression and words.
Regret, pain, sadness—nothing but heavy emotions.
Like an animal sensing impending death upon seeing a wounded human, the girl instinctively absorbed those feelings.
The weight in that expression silenced her, and Aslan slowly lowered his gaze. There was reminiscence in his eyes.
Seeing Aslan reminisce, the girl recalled the various aspects of him she had witnessed.
The aspects that made him seem alien to her.
Morality. Doing what is right and rejecting what is wrong.
Showing disdain or anger towards priests and monsters alike.
Clearly remembered was the time when Aslan refused to spare priests, breaking the emperor’s neck, and creating graves for the fallen while fighting monsters.
That soft, tender emotion was something the girl couldn’t understand.
If you’re weak, you die. If you grow weak, you die.
Everything Aslan had shown her pointed to weakness.
Yet, Aslan was inexplicably strong.
His appearance, which suggested he had endured countless pains despite possessing such strength, made the girl wonder.
“What drives this guy to fight?”
“Is there a secret behind his reason for fighting?”
The girl wanted to become stronger. For no particular reason, she just vaguely desired it.
“…Why do you fight?”
At that question, Aslan lifted his gaze from the depths of his memories.
Shaking off the buried memories like shaking off dust, various emotions flickered and faded in his eyes.
“That’s…”
Initially, Aslan intended to say he fought merely to survive.
But the girl’s eyes staring at him conveyed that she wasn’t asking for something so simple.
One might call it fate. Close to a sixth sense, Aslan hesitated and paused.
Priests and monsters abound.
The world is defiled, and there is no future.
People die meaninglessly, and deities slaughter indiscriminately.
In this goddamn dark fantasy, why does Aslan fight?
Why doesn’t he give up the fight?
After much contemplation, Aslan picked up a fragment of his memory.
It was the words of a face he would never see again.
A bright smile beneath two black lines.
Suppressing the swelling emotions, Aslan spoke.
“…Because only I can.”
At that answer, the girl closed her mouth, and Aslan momentarily wore a serious expression before smiling faintly. Lifting the corners of his mouth wider, Aslan laughed weakly.
“What kind of question is that…?”
Aslan reached out and ruffled the girl’s hair. At the touch messing up her crimson locks, the girl blinked one eye in confusion at the sudden intimacy.
Afterward, Aslan stood up and said,
“Are you feeling okay? Shall we get up?”
Someone is looking for us, Aslan added.
Only then did Angie realize, looking around,
“Come to think of it, where are we?”
Aslan simply grinned without answering.
*
“Welcome to Shengqilu.”
The place Aslan led the girl to was a training ground.
The training ground was spacious, with soldiers running around and carrying water-filled jars, making it a unique location.
Among those on the training ground greeting Aslan and the girl was someone entirely unfamiliar to Angie.
He appeared to be in his middle years, sporting a stylish beard and well-groomed red-brown hair.
Dressed casually like Aslan, he held a wooden sword meant for practice.
Beside him, Harrod was panting, leaning on the wooden sword like a cane.
This man addressed Angie.
“It’s been a week, hasn’t it? You finally woke up?”
Hearing that, Angie widened her eyes and let out an “Oh,” surprised that she had been unconscious for a week.
The man chuckled sheepishly.
“You didn’t explain at all, did you?”
That remark was directed at Aslan, who shook his head and replied,
“I thought it would be better if she heard it directly.”
“Aha, if that’s the case, I understand.”
The man nodded.
“Hmm, then… nice to meet you. I’m Torel of Shengqilu, the master of this land. Mostly called Count of Shengqilu.”
“…Nice to meet you?”
The girl, who wasn’t accustomed to greetings, awkwardly returned the salutation, prompting the count to smile.
“Well, glad to hear that from you too. Now, moving on to the main point—I won’t repeat this, so listen carefully. It’s been a week since you fell asleep. We’re quite far north-east from the island where… you were attacked, Belus Ma’kel. This is the city of Shengqilu in the Shengqilu Change County.”
Surprised by the fact that she had been unconscious for a week, the girl frowned as she tried to process the information, but the count didn’t wait.
“And while you were asleep, something quite interesting happened.”
“Something interesting?”
“Yes, very interesting. In the city of Ashan, located two days east of Belus Ma’kel in the Emperor’s direct jurisdiction area, there was a battle between martial monks and the Priests of the Universe’s Necessity.”
“Priests of the Universe’s Necessity?”
Although the girl didn’t know what that was, the count accepted it as a legitimate question.
“Yes, those who rarely stray from their territory. They apparently started a fight in an area where Supreme Divinity openly walks. But well, they must’ve had confidence to initiate it, right? The martial monks lost, and the Priests of the Universe’s Necessity won. And now, they’re advancing north.”
Following the story was difficult for Angie, who wore a blank expression, but the count didn’t stop.
“They’re coming here.”
“Ah.”
Though she didn’t fully understand, it seemed like priests were coming. Understanding it this way, Angie listened as the count took a step closer.
“And I know why they fought.”
The count’s dark eyes locked onto Angie, causing her to flinch momentarily.
“They’re looking for you, Divine Steed of the Ancient Deity.”
