Aslan and Angie had a conversation.
Aslan briefly organized the information he had obtained and relayed it to Angie, who listened intently in a manner uncharacteristically docile for her.
All of this was undoubtedly time travel, and there was no possibility that it was an illusion.
When asked what time travel even meant, Aslan explained that they had arrived at some point in the past, and Angie refrained from asking further questions afterward, remaining docile.
Aslan didn’t know the principle behind it either.
However, there were many things he could guess.
It was likely related to the fact that the Veil of Mercy, which freezes and kills time and space, existed, and that Angie had temporarily destroyed Geladridion itself.
Aslan speculated that these two factors had somehow harmonized to cause this phenomenon, and Angie quietly nodded in agreement.
Of course, this did not fully explain why the rift in the world had been collapsing, but obtaining that information during this time would suffice.
After acquiring those detailed pieces of information, they would find a way to return.
This was the task that Aslan and Angie faced.
Angie responded with surprising calmness to all the stories and information, and while Aslan could guess the thoughts hidden beneath her composure, he made an effort to smile it off.
What mattered was not that Angie felt shy now, but that the place where Aslan and Angie currently existed was the Rift of the World.
From within that rift, the Warrior God who must fight and sacrifice to open a passage was battling.
To Aslan, it was clear that something had happened here, causing the Warrior God to become the medium maintaining the world’s rift as a sacrifice.
So, tomorrow.
Aslan planned to feign compliance with their actions upon waking up and gather information while the situation unfolded.
Because there was nothing more important than information for understanding the circumstances.
In the worst case, Aslan might have to personally turn the Warrior God into “that” himself…
But Aslan kept such thoughts to himself and didn’t mention them to Angie.
And seven hours later, after Aslan harbored such thoughts and words…
Aslan found himself in a very awkward state.
Before falling asleep, Aslan had attempted his usual meditation to replace sleep, but Angie strongly emphasized the importance of rest. Unable to resist her insistence, Aslan reluctantly lay down on the bed.
As a result, Aslan ended up falling asleep lying next to Angie.
And upon waking up, Aslan immediately regretted his decision.
Aslan was bound by Angie.
Her long, white arms wrapped around Aslan’s back and chest acted like restraints, tightly binding him.
Her healthy legs clung to Aslan’s thighs and rested atop his legs, ankles pressed together.
In short, one might call it a “tightly embraced state.”
The intimate physical contact brought about by the bonds was not uncomfortable or suffocating; rather, it strangely invigorated Aslan.
Cradled in her astonishingly soft, full, and elastic “perfect body,” Aslan couldn’t move an inch.
He was troubled.
No, beyond troubled—he was embarrassed.
The ripe, soft feminine scent, enhanced by Lumel’s grooming products and bathing tools, filled Aslan’s nose.
Naturally, Angie’s face was close to Aslan’s, too close that their hair seemed tangled together.
‘…What should I do?’
Aslan was deeply troubled.
Because Aslan was not a being devoid of desire or appetite.
Until now, he had managed to avoid the temptations of Lumel or Ereta solely due to his remarkable patience and sense of duty.
Swift action to evade situations also played a part.
Because if he could avoid the situation, he could endure temptation.
But how about now?
Aslan was bound by a superior force.
Numerically marked as 10, but practically equivalent to 15 in strength—Aslan had no way to escape.
Even using the Dragon King’s arm wouldn’t change that.
In fact, when Aslan wriggled his body trying to break free, pulling his arms and twisting his hips and waist, something even worse happened.
“…Ugh.”
Wriggling only intensified the stimulation.
Angie’s perfect body rubbed against Aslan’s.
Her large, elastic breasts pressed against Aslan’s chest, and her legs entwined with his, pinning him down.
Her crimson hair flowed gently, her delicate features exuding a subtle fierceness, hovering before Aslan’s eyes.
Every time he tried to escape, Angie’s body only pressed closer to Aslan’s.
Not just pressing, but rubbing against him.
Aslan felt as though the lush, overwhelming flesh in his arms was like a swamp trapping his futile attempts.
Finally, the seasoned warrior assessed the situation coldly.
There was no way to resolve this situation right now.
There was no single move to turn this situation into victory.
Simply allowing himself to be compliant without resistance before things got worse was the right choice.
Just as Aslan sighed with such embarrassment,
A quiet, playful laugh reached his ears.
A ticklish, intimate, yet incredibly soft laugh.
As Aslan’s shoulders twitched and his eyes darted at the sound, all he saw were golden eyes nearly touching his own.
Then a sweet breath grazed Aslan’s neck.
Angie.
The source of the temptation leading to Aslan’s current predicament was looking straight at him.
Their faces were so close that a slight turn of the head would cause them to brush against each other.
A mischievous smile played on Angie’s slightly visible face.
‘…You’ve been doing this on purpose.’
Reason?
The reason was unknown. He’d have to ask.
Thinking so, Aslan opened his mouth.
“Good morning, Angie.”
“Yeah, good morning.”
Her voice, drowsy with sleep, carried a low, husky tone that stirred something deep inside Aslan.
Aslan forced himself to suppress such urges and smiled.
“Could you let me go a bit?”
There was no logical reason not to release him, but Angie paid no heed and instead embraced Aslan even tighter.
The pressing bosom changed shape. Angie whispered in Aslan’s ear.
“…No.”
Her warm breath tickled his neck, and Aslan shivered at the sensation.
“Why not?”
“Yesterday, you gave me a hard time. It feels unfair to just take it.”
She was probably referring to the act they performed to appear like a married couple.
“So, I’m returning the favor.”
Indeed, it was effective. Aslan felt troubled.
Though it wasn’t an unpleasant kind of trouble.
Angie added,
“Aslan yesterday… I felt strange, my heart raced… I felt wronged.”
Before Aslan could speak to avoid an even more awkward situation, he closed his mouth at Angie’s candid declaration.
An honest statement revealing underlying emotions.
It silenced Aslan’s words.
“Does Aslan feel the same way now? Strange feelings, heart racing?”
Aslan hesitated for a moment, then bit his lip.
Despite his frustration, he couldn’t deny it.
“…Yeah.”
At that, the woman giggled happily.
“Good.”
And then she let go.
As Aslan rose after being released, he noticed something.
Even as she let go, Angie’s golden eyes held a strange intensity, like a predator eyeing its prey.
Aslan was relieved that Angie lacked worldly knowledge.
*
Aslan and Angie left the room and had a simple breakfast.
The meal consisted of simple items typical of a fortress: oatmeal with a peculiar bluish hue and bite-sized fried potato-like vegetables.
While eating, Aslan thought that if this was Rowena’s fabrication, hunger and nutritional intake were implemented with no difference from reality.
His inability to dismiss doubts stemmed from Rowena being the best illusionist magician Aslan knew.
Of course, since Angie’s “pranks” lacked any shadowy aura, it was really, truly not Rowena’s doing.
Lost in such suspicions and musings, Aslan finished his meal. Immediately after, they followed a guide somewhere.
To a chamber in the ruins where a tomb originally stood.
Now, the room appeared to be a war conference room, with a large stone table holding maps.
Although no coffins or urns that once occupied the room were visible, a deity resembling the offspring of sorrow and death was present.
Thus, Aslan entered the room without worry.
“Hmm, you’ve arrived.”
Greeting Aslan and Angie casually was the Warrior God.
He was leaning forward with his hands on the table at the head seat.
“Did you enjoy last night?”
Aslan forced a smile at the Warrior God’s inquiry about whether the previous night was enjoyable rather than comfortable.
Truthfully, it had been quite awkward, but they had to appear like a married couple.
“Thanks to you, we enjoyed a rare pleasant time. We are grateful for your consideration.”
“That’s fortunate.”
The Warrior God grinned and continued, “So, how about it?”
With that, countless gazes turned toward Aslan and Angie.
There were quite a few people in the conference room.
They were heroes, demigods, and gods.
The Warrior God introduced Aslan and Angie to them.
“Now, these are probably unfamiliar faces to you, and they’re genuinely newcomers. They just arrived yesterday.”
The Warrior God stretched out his hand toward Aslan and Angie and added,
“Yesterday, they came offering to help us.”
“The Duel God and… what was your name again?”
“Aslan.”
“Aslan. The Duel God and his disciple and husband, Aslan.”
At the word “husband,” Angie’s cheeks faintly reddened, but it seemed none of the gods cared.
Rather,
“At this time, have you gained new allies?”
The cloaked god, likely the child of sorrow and death, questioned, and the Warrior God nodded, crossing his arms.
His expression radiated ease.
“True, the timing is bad. But I couldn’t pass up someone who can match my techniques and a compatriot who can knock me out with a single blow. Besides, if they were truly aligned with the enemy, bringing them inside wouldn’t make much of a difference.”
That ease stemmed from the belief that this explanation would be convincing enough.
Indeed, it worked as the Warrior God intended.
The other gods and heroes stared at Aslan and Angie in astonishment.
Aslan understood their reaction.
The Warrior God, renowned as the strongest lesser divinity, lacked significant divine powers.
He could wield basic elements of divinity like creation, eternity, and metallurgy, but those were capabilities even demigods possessed.
What distinguished the Warrior God was that he became a god from an ordinary human—not even a demigod—and still achieved the status of the strongest lesser divinity.
What he possessed were extreme skills and exceptional physical abilities.
In other words, a hybrid of Aslan and Angie.
That’s why he could withstand Angie’s full power and coordinate techniques with Aslan.
The astonishment of the gods and heroes stemmed from this.
To them, Aslan and Angie must appear as individuals with skills and strength comparable to the Warrior God.
“Then, they will surely be of great help. Perhaps we can expand the resistance forces to the Sapphire Forest…”
“No, that’s reckless. Strengthening our defenses while advancing upwards is…”
“What upwards?! I think moving towards the sea is better! The Margrave hasn’t abandoned support intentions yet!”
The gods and heroes voiced their opinions, and Aslan observed the positive reactions to their new reinforcements while thinking.
These people hadn’t gathered merely to welcome Aslan and Angie.
There had to be a reason for convening in this conference room.
Thinking this, Aslan recalled a story he’d heard the previous night.
“Warrior! The reconnaissance team returned last night! The situation outside is dire. Now…”
The returning reconnaissance team.
The worsening external situation.
Just as Aslan realized this, the Warrior God was quietly gazing at him.
Noticing the look a bit late, Aslan met the Warrior God’s smirk.
“You’re right.”
The unexpected comment drew puzzled looks from the others, and Aslan widened his eyes, realizing his thoughts had been read.
Unfazed by the astonished gazes, the Warrior God sat back in his chair and flashed an ostentatious smile at Aslan.
Then, wiping the smile away, he spoke.
“Last night, the scouts returned. They confirmed the hostile forces approaching this world’s rift and returned with intelligence on their army and composition.”
At the mention of hostile forces, the expressions in the room darkened as he leaned back in his chair.
“They are still rushing here at full speed.”
Unlike Aslan’s puzzled expression, the other gods and heroes wore troubled looks.
It wasn’t about the difficult situation, but rather irritation over some unpleasant matter.
A reaction tinged with humiliation.
As Aslan observed this and opened his mouth,
“Who are they?”
The Warrior God scoffed, as if finding “them” utterly repulsive.
His golden eyes flared ferociously.
“They are my half-brothers, traitors who defected right after Father’s death.”
Even with Aslan’s puzzled expression, he repeated almost instinctively,
“The gods of Victory and Defeat. That despicable twin pair.”
As if the very words and sentences weighed heavily.
After laying down the heavy burden, the Warrior God slouched his shoulders and summarized the situation.
“They are coming with the monsters they themselves call Supreme Divinities.”
Upon hearing this, Aslan couldn’t help but be surprised.
“…Victory and Defeat? Shouldn’t they have perished after War and Knowledge?”
Because it greatly differed from the history Aslan knew.
While Aslan was bewildered, the Warrior God grimaced as if feeling humiliated.
