The Possessed Fool

To create is to offend the heavens; to offend the heavens demands penance.

…

Many gods manifest in this world, and magicians here have a markedly different attitude toward magic compared to those of the Type-Moon World. Magicians in this world show surprising tolerance towards ordinary people who witness magic or Heretic Gods. They don't pursue them to the ends of the earth; in fact, if you ask the elderly about local mage associations, they might even point you in the direction of the exact association you're looking for.

Of course, this is only true if you're not seeking out something bizarre or anything equally baffling.

Yet a deeper reason lies in the fact that ordinary people cannot capture the essence of a Heretic Gods.

Take the recent incident, for instance. Even though the London Tower Bridge was burned down and nearly a hundred meters of the nearby embankment was cleanly sheared off, it's as if the public remains oblivious.

Even the security footage shown on TV only captures a terrifying storm and intense white light.

Some local residents claim they heard gunshots and wolf howls, but such reports are few and ultimately dismissed as hallucinations.

"A once-in-a-millennium superstorm... a lightning storm..."

The news anchor on TV elaborates plausibly, with satellite images and the sworn analysis of experts.

Well, at least it's not another gas explosion.

Kurumi mutters, switching off the TV as she pulls Liliana close, burying her head against the girl's shoulder.

Her warm breath brushes against Liliana's neck, making her freeze up and shrink slightly.

Like how Sakura melts under head pats and chin scratches, and how Mumei can't resist the allure of fresh blood, her bashful gaze betrays her enjoyment. Kurumi has quickly discovered Liliana's weak points—and for that, she can thank Erica.

It's like taking care of two little kittens, Kurumi muses, poking at the pouting cheeks of Erica, who promptly breaks into a funny smile.

Did you see that?

I have two lolis—none for you!

Kurumi projects the scene into her shadow realm, where the suspended and teary-eyed Fishing Three hangs helplessly.

Abandonment play… it's the worst.

Rumors say something's happening in Florence, but it's probably nothing serious. If it were, Paolo would have tried to convince Erica to go back to Italy by now.

…

In a luxurious suite facing east, sunlight pours through golden-patterned drapes, casting a hazy light across the room.

Kurumi and Liliana had gone out early. Italy, it seems, truly has trouble brewing—yet another Heretic God has descended. Unfortunately, not all Heretic Gods are as amicable as Kurumi.

Most mage associations can only repel a Heretic God, and when faced with an especially powerful one, like Nuada, the only choice is to appeal to the Godslayers for help.

Right now, though, Europe has no one to turn to. The Black Prince is too busy tangling with the Greenwich Council, and since Kurumi is presently in Britain, this Godslayer's activities have significantly quieted down.

As for Marquis Voban… he was just eliminated by Kurumi—or so it appears to the mage world.

Erica, lying on the bed, has her long, fair neck and bare back exposed to the cool air. Compared to Liliana, she certainly has certain "advantages."

She's only draped in a thin blue sheet, having the bad habit of sleeping without nightwear, and her morning grumpiness is formidable.

Thinking back to last night when Erica stayed up half the night engrossed in a certain magic book, Kurumi refrained from waking her.

By Erica's pillow lay a dark stone tablet about the size of a B5 sheet and only as thick as a girl's thumb.

On this stone tablet is a crude drawing.

Atop a high mountain lies a girl overlooking the world.

On the ground below, a man dressed in a gauzy garment sits by a river, surrounded by lions, dogs, horses, and eagles.

The drawing is bordered by a coiled serpent that bites its own tail, forming a frame.

The stone seems to pulse with life, faint breaths of heat escaping from it, a dim red light shining as if in imitation of Voban's power, "Red Punishment".

Maybe… that's exactly what it is.

This stone tablet was something Kurumi had picked up from a Roman church before she descended into this world.

After seeing the magical book in Alice's collection, Kurumi took out the stone tablet, curious… it seemed somewhat similar.

But seriously, are all your magic books this ugly?

Moreover, when she took out the stone, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

It was hot to the touch, as though it had just come out of a furnace. It took quite a while to cool down, but it still makes for a decent hand warmer.

After arriving in this world, Kurumi once tried tracking down that church.

But instead of the veiled fire-thief god, a weeping statue of the Virgin Mary greeted her under a white dome.

It makes sense—how could a Catholic church openly display a statue of a god from Greek mythology? Back then… perhaps it was merely an extraordinary phenomenon.

She had sat quietly in the last row, a soft smile on her lips.

—Don't mind me.

With just that thought, the parishioners in attendance seemed to ignore her entirely.

Neither worship nor disdain.

She sat there silently, watching a nun with a delicate face preach at the pulpit, her voice serene and devout.

Kurumi applauded her softly.

Seemingly disturbed by her, the organ began to play by itself, filling the air with a sacred hymn.

Startled, the nun looked over and saw the crimson-eyed girl seated alone in the back row.

Kurumi frowned at being interrupted, motioning for the nun to continue, and then turned away without looking back.

The hymn grew in fervor, but its blessed audience had already made her stylish departure.

...

Liliana's expression was tense as she anxiously clutched Kurumi's hand.

Usually quiet and obedient, this was the first time the shy girl had gripped Kurumi's hand so firmly. After all, who wouldn't be worried to hear that their home base had been wrecked?

The two of them waited for news from the Council of Sages. Following the disaster in London, Princess Alice had lost her position as head of the council by a majority vote. After all, had she not invited this particular Heretic God to Greenwich, the clash between Kurumi and Marquis Voban would have taken place in Italy, safely on foreign ground.

Fights this destructive, of course, are best when they take place in someone else's territory. The damage was significant, and the landmark in ruins was none other than the Tower Bridge of London itself, which would now take who knew how long to reconstruct.

Alice herself was still bedridden, her fever lingering. Due to her frequent out-of-body experiences, her physical state was already far weaker than that of an average person, leaving her bedridden since the night of the storm.

Kurumi held Liliana's small hand, gently reassuring the girl while tapping the polished mahogany armrest with her free hand.

Standing by her side, the young maid of the Duke Goddodin awaited her instructions.

...

Some significant events had indeed occurred in Italy.

Shortly after Kurumi's departure, yet another Heretic God descended upon the land.

It traveled from the direction of the Caucasus Mountains, heading straight for Milan, attacking the headquarters of the Bronze-Black Cross. It appeared that Old Kranjcar had taken something forbidden from an ancient ruin, which drew the god's ire.

Although no actual casualties were reported, this incident had severely tarnished the Bronze-Black Cross's reputation, as it had ultimately been their old rival, the Copper-Black Cross, who stepped in to help resolve the crisis.

Assisting Paolo was another figure, none other than Saint Raffaello—the most skilled European swordsman, with the title of "Knight of the Holy Grail."

The retired swordmaster had, for some reason, chosen to intervene once more, a legendary swordsman who had once held both enchanted swords Cuore di Leone and Il Maestro.

 that now belonged to Erica and Liliana.

...

In northern Italy, it's tradition for newly appointed knights to receive their swords at the St. Giardino Monastery. Situated in Florence, this place of worship is commonly known to knights as the "Monastery of Swords."

Each knight's sword is specially crafted: forged with alchemically treated steel, polished by master artisans, and finally enhanced through magical incantations. Such were Erica's training grounds.

These custom-made swords are designed to channel a knight's full power.

Originally, Erica and Liliana would only go to St. Giardino in early summer, two months from now, for their official ceremony.

But two months earlier, an unexpected event occurred in Florence: a Heretic God descended.

Erica and Liliana were in Florence at the time, and the only Great Knight present was Gennaro Gantz, a man sent by Paolo to protect Erica and play chauffeur.

Though just nineteen, Gantz already looked the part of a grizzled thirty-something, often seen with a pirate-like headscarf.

But he was a true Great Knight and Erica's strongest competitor for the title of "Red Devil."

Back then, Erica and Liliana had only just been knighted. The Heretic God who had descended was unusual, with peerless beauty and an allure that could sway any man.

This allure was her divine power, making her irresistible to men.

As a result, Erica and Liliana were the only ones left standing before her.

The Heretic God was unlike any known in mythology—a god with no recorded origins, not unlike Kurumi herself. She didn't cause large-scale destruction, simply standing there, waiting. She claimed she was waiting for someone.

But her allure was too intense, too captivating. Merely her presence incited unrest.

In the end, Saint Raffaello, a swordsman whose skill was likened to the great artists of the Renaissance, stepped in. Perhaps due to the Heretic God's lack of combat prowess, Raffaello managed to repel her, though only temporarily.

This encounter led to Raffaello bestowing her recognition upon Erica and Liliana, granting each of them one of her magical swords as a mark of favor.

Due to her exceptional swordsmanship, Saint Raffaello, usually known to grant only one sword, bestowed two, becoming a legend within the Monastery of Swords.

This event became known as the tale of "The Lion and the Artisan."

Erica received Cuore di Leone, the sword symbolizing the lion, while Liliana was gifted Il Maestro, embodying the artisan.

...

Reading through the information provided by the Council of Sages, Liliana finally understood why Raffaello had intervened.

The Heretic God attacking from the Caucasus was no ordinary god. He bore clear, lake-like eyes and a mane of brilliant golden hair.

A Christian believer, he was a rebellious saint who had stepped out of legend.

His reverence for the Lord was evident, yet his assault on the Bronze Black Cross's headquarters left a path of destruction.

But that wasn't the crucial point; the main issue was that this Heretic God had not manifested directly. Instead, he had seized the body of a mortal.

And that mortal was none other than "the Knight of Siena."

There was only one in all of Italy known by that title—Salvatore Doni.

That guy who put all his talent into the sword while being utterly hopeless at magic.

Italy's top seven mage associations hold domains across different cities, yet Siena has none of them.

Siena's lack of renowned associations likely had much to do with Doni's background, a talentless fellow destined never to mingle with elite circles.

However, he was a true genius in the way of the sword—a monster blessed with innate swordsmanship.

And… he was also Saint Raffaello's disciple.

So… Raffaello had intervened.

Two months ago, they had last seen that carefree, airheaded swordsman while visiting Saint Raffaello. He was a prodigy who mastered Raffaello's techniques in just a month.

He was also a fool, one who had, supposedly, gone around to every nearby village looking for Raffaello, clubbing every woman he encountered with a stick until he found her.

He reasoned that anyone who could block his attack would surely be Raffaello.

And now, that fool was possessed, smashing his own home grounds.

Liliana was more than a little indignant.

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