Chapter 110 - A God Made by Receiving (5)

Alon had used every means at his disposal to strike Basiliora the Receiver.

After that, there was nothing more he could do. He had exhausted everything he had prepared, leaving his pitifully small mana reservoir completely empty.

Yet even so...

["HUMAAAAAAN—!!!!"]

■■■■■■■■—!!!

Basiliora the Receiver was still alive.

"..."

Basiliora let out a monstrous shriek, struggling to twist its body beneath the collapsed altar. Watching it, Alon inwardly marveled, his expression remaining blank.

Of course, he had never expected Basiliora to die easily. The faith it had received from the Thunder Serpent tribe over the years had given it the stature of a guardian deity.

'If I didn't possess divine stature myself, I wouldn't even have considered doing this.'

There was one reason Alon had been able to carry out this plan in the first place: he himself possessed "stature."

Gods took only half the damage from attacks by opponents without stature, but he had judged that he could inflict meaningful damage on them. Of course, he had no idea why he possessed divine stature.

Whatever the reason, it meant he could deal meaningful damage to Basiliora as well. So he had devised this plan, and it had succeeded. Just as he intended, Basiliora had been subdued without being killed.

'The important part starts now.'

THUD—RUMBLE!

As Basiliora the Receiver writhed madly at the sight of him standing before it, Alon carefully took a ring from inside his clothes—the red, glowing ring he had received from the archmage Heinkel some time ago.

Without hesitation, he slipped it onto his middle finger, then addressed Basiliora.

"Basiliora the Receiver, you now have two choices."

["I'll kill you—I'll kill you!!"]

Basiliora thrashed like mad, sending the surrounding debris tumbling down. Alon continued, his face impassive.

"The first is to become my servant. The second is to die here and now. Which will you choose?"

It was a calm question, but Basiliora convulsed violently.

["Ha! You dare think I would become your servant!? Those things protecting you seem to have made you conceited, but I will never become the servant of a mere human!"]

"Then death is your only remaining choice."

["Kill me! Do you think defeat at the hands of a mere human can strip me of my honor? Preposterous!!"]

The negotiations broke down immediately, but that did not matter. No, it was exactly as planned.

"Let me tell you something interesting."

["What?"]

"Your opinion doesn't actually matter much. Whether you refuse or agree, you must become subject to me."

As though he had been waiting for this, Alon thrust the red ring forward.

"Under the covenant of great Calgunias—I shall bind the loser defeated in this duel to my service."

As he uttered those words, a fierce red light burst from the ring on his finger.

["Wh-what is thiiiiis—!!!!"]

Basiliora the Receiver's body began to be sucked into his ring.

THUD—CRRRASH!!!

As its enormous body was gradually drawn into the ring, the altar pinning it down collapsed even farther inward.

Behind his indifferent expression, Alon smiled in satisfaction.

'I'm glad it worked just as expected.'

Alon had gone out of his way to offer Basiliora a choice not to negotiate or give it any real say, but to hear it "admit defeat."

The Ring of Calgunias's Pact he had received from Heinkel could bind someone defeated in battle within the ring and let its owner command them like a familiar.

'... Originally, I was supposed to go to the region Heinkel told me about, trap a young dragon, and use it as a familiar—not Basiliora.'

But this was no game. Alon had been searching for a familiar to put in the Ring of Calgunias's Pact, and after hearing that he possessed divine stature, he had finally settled on Basiliora.

"Whew."

Alon looked at the ring, which had completely absorbed Basiliora's enormous body in less than a few dozen seconds.

A serpent design was now engraved on the ring, which had previously borne no markings, only a red glow. Looking at it, Alon gave a satisfied smile so faint that no one could notice.

"Whew..."

He let all the tension leave him and lay down where he stood. The sky, once filled with nothing but gray, was now full of stars.

"A success."

He congratulated himself on the success of his plan. His entire body was wetter than ever, but it did not feel so bad.

####

Three days had passed since Alon absorbed Basiliora the Receiver into the Ring of Calgunias's Pact and made it his familiar.

"Thank you. Truly."

Alon gave a slight shake of his head as Ashgul the Wise, chieftain of the Thunder Serpent tribe, bowed deeply before him.

"I had my own purpose as well. There is no need to thank me so profusely."

"No, I cannot simply leave it at that. Thanks to you, honored guest, our Thunder Serpent tribe has escaped Basiliora and regained its freedom."

Alon spoke for a little while with Ashgul, whose deeply wrinkled eyes curved with genuine joy.

"Then I'll stay for another day or so."

"However long you stay, honored guest, we of the Thunder Serpent tribe will serve you with all our hearts. Please do not worry."

Soon afterward, Alon stepped outside.

'Honestly, I'd like to leave the jungle right away.'

Having subjugated Basiliora the Receiver, Alon had nothing left to do here. The reason he was staying to rest another day was Reinhardt and Deus.

... More precisely, Reinhardt.

'It's only natural, considering he blocked Basiliora's attack head-on.'

Deus certainly looked exhausted, but he had no trouble moving about. Reinhardt, on the other hand, had been utterly incapacitated from yesterday through today.

'... He said he'd pushed his ability too hard, didn't he?'

As Alon worried in his own way, a voice from ahead broke him out of his thoughts.

"H-hello!"

He looked up to see a girl bowing to him.

"Um, I'm—"

The girl tried awkwardly to introduce herself, but Alon soon recognized her.

"Are you feeling all right?"

"P-pardon...!?"

"You were out in all that rain."

His question left her stammering, unable to answer.

"My sister is fine."

It was Sircal the Swift who answered, stepping out from behind the girl, Jenira.

She looked at her younger sister with a beaming smile Alon could never have imagined when they first met, then bowed deeply to him.

"Thank you so much."

"Didn't you bow to me yesterday as well?"

Alon remembered how she had repeatedly bowed to him on their way back to the Thunder Serpent tribe yesterday.

But she bowed deeply once more.

"After what you've done for us, honored guest, I know I could never bow enough. Thank you, truly."

Alon had little time to feel awkward about it before she continued.

"If you ever find yourself in trouble, please come to me. Whatever happens, I will be there to help you."

"Thank you."

"Oh, and we're holding a feast tonight, so please do join us. It's really a banquet in your honor."

Having delivered her message, Sircal the Swift gathered up her still-flustered sister and left.

Even as they walked away, Alon could clearly see the sisters looking at one another with the happiest expressions in the world.

He smiled inwardly, filled with an immense sense of fulfillment.

'... And I've earned the Thunder Serpent chieftain's trust... I could try asking him for that later, too.'

With that thought, Alon returned to his lodgings.

The sky had been overcast ever since his arrival, but today, at least, the sun was showing itself.

####

Every one of the test subjects Duke Comalon had created was powerful.

That was only natural. The countless subjects he had created to research Abyssal Cores... Apart from Carmine, they—or rather, those things—were all formidable figures who had once made a name for themselves in the allied kingdoms.

Moreover, only those who fully endured an Abyssal Core could earn the name "test subject" from Duke Comalon.

In short, as powerful individuals who had completely absorbed Abyssal Cores, the subjects were confident in their strength.

But arrogance was to be avoided.

After arriving in the jungle under orders to "assassinate Marquis Pallatio," they soon found the marquis in the Thunder Serpent tribe's territory, but did not attack rashly.

Instead, they concealed themselves thoroughly and waited coolly for the perfect moment—the perfect moment to assassinate Marquis Pallatio, as Duke Comalon had commanded.

At least, that had been true until tonight.

"Gah—!"

Test Subject No. 1 vomited blood and stared ahead, disbelief written across its face.

Filling his vision were the horribly torn corpses of more than fifteen test subjects just like himself.

'Wh-what...?'

Even as blood streamed from his abdomen, Test Subject No. 1 racked his brain, trying to understand the situation. But his mind would not supply the information he wanted.

No matter how many times he replayed his memories, only two scenes remained.

The first was No. 3's head suddenly bursting just as he said they would carry out the assassination tonight.

The second was the "despair" he was seeing now: every test subject lying dead.

As he sat there dazedly coughing up blood, the subject saw a girl walking calmly through the sea of blood.

A long horn protruded from her forehead, and a confident smile rested on her lips.

... The girl who had disposed of every test subject here glanced at the man, who stared blankly as though unable to understand what had happened. Then, as if she had no interest in him at all, she kicked him in the face.

SPLASH!

A fountain of blood sprayed out in an instant, and his utterly pulverized head fell away.

The girl turned and started walking, as though her work here was finished. A man appeared beside her.

"Boss, why did you bother doing this yourself? The underlings could easily have killed every last one of them."

The man was roughly two or three times the girl's size, with blue skin like the moon hanging in the sky. At his question, the black-haired girl answered offhandedly without stopping.

"Just because."

"... Just because?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm..."

The blue-skinned man turned his gaze toward the Thunder Serpent tribe—or, more precisely, stared at the man sitting among the tribespeople enjoying their feast.

"Boss."

"What?"

"May I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"... Just who is that human, for you to go out of your way to act personally like this?"

The creature asked with a slight frown, as though it simply could not understand.

The girl hummed thoughtfully, seemingly choosing her words.

After a while, she—looking utterly relaxed despite the sticky blood coating her hands and feet—gave a little exclamation.

"Ah."

Then she spoke in a slight drawl.

"That's it. That thing."

"That... thing?"

"Yeah, that thing."

"... What thing?"

"Justification."

"... Pardon?"

And the girl—no, the King of the Hundred Demons—smiled deeply as she said,

"He's the only 'justification' I have."

The King's bewitching violet eyes glowed faintly, as though she found all of this delightful.