Meanwhile, the individual who was being regarded as the next great enemy and looming trouble had already set foot in Tokyo's urban district with his retainer.
There was nothing surprising about that. For magicians, crossing borders was as commonplace as eating or drinking.
Moreover, among those crossing the border at this moment was one known as a Demon King.
Even if he were to pass openly through a checkpoint, the border personnel could only lower their heads and allow this being—whose mere gaze could claim a life—to pass.
After all, for a monthly salary of only a few tens of thousands of yen, who would risk their life?
So when the two of them swaggered into the vicinity of a hotel with a beautiful garden, there seemed to be nothing unusual about it.
As the oldest king accustomed to hunting the , Voban had made no attempt to conceal his movements.
Thus, he deliberately chose an extremely conspicuous location as his residence.
Marquis Voban's bedroom was located in a separate building constructed within the hotel's garden.
It was a small, traditionally styled Japanese house.
Of course, the interior structure was entirely modernized. The antique exterior was merely an affectation—an elegant façade meant to enhance its refinement.
Much like how people's so-called "pastoral life" does not truly mean facing the soil with one's back bent beneath the sun, but rather an ideal of slow pacing, quality goods, modest consumption, and pleasant surroundings.
This house clearly understood the pretentious tastes of the so-called "petite bourgeois" and "middle bourgeois."
Compared to its old-fashioned exterior, the interior facilities were thoroughly modern—water, electricity, gas, and internet were all readily available.
In the center of the largest living room stood a table.
Arranged upon it, precisely according to schedule, were freshly fried tempura and assorted sashimi—classic examples of Japanese cuisine.
However, these dishes carried a distinct Japanese characteristic—delicate and served in small portions. Marquis Voban, however, showed little appetite. Instead, he sat to one side, lifting a cup filled with sake and draining it in one gulp as he asked:
"Graniczár, have you found any news about that shrine maiden?"
Voban's question was delivered in extremely standard Japanese.
Until yesterday, this elderly man from Eastern Europe had not understood a single word of the language.
Yet as both a Godslayer and a high-ranking magician, each possessed magical circuits within their bodies capable of assisting brain memory, as well as various methods to enhance learning ability.
Thus, mastering a foreign language in a short period—an ability ordinary people would envy—was merely routine for them.
After all, compared to the magical knowledge they were required to grasp, learning a foreign tongue was nothing at all.
Of course—if it were the King of Swords, who possessed no talent in magic whatsoever, that would be rather awkward. To this day, when that King of Swords communicated with Satsuki and Erica, he still used Italian.
"No, not yet. My deepest apologies."
Liliana lowered her head in apology.
"Is that so?"
Marquis Voban's green eyes swept across her slightly stiff yet beautiful face before he poured himself another cup of sake.
"Still, it matters little. I have already caught the scent of a far more interesting target here."
"Your Majesty... are you referring to the King of Swords?" Liliana was slightly startled.
"It seems someone just attempted to probe my movements through Spirit Vision. To perceive my aura through inspiration—using something akin to prophecy or revelation as Spirit Vision—while rare, it is still immature compared to that one from the Sage Council."
That one from the Sage Council—Princess Alice?
Yet compared to the matter of being probed by prophecy, what made Liliana more wary was Marquis Voban's beast-like intuition.
While Godslayers possessed instincts that surpassed ordinary humans and could sense the aura of their divine nemeses like animals detecting prey, seeing through Spirit Vision cast upon oneself—something more mystical than mysticism—was something she had never heard of before.
This being known as the oldest king, who delighted in godslaying—just how far had his power reached?
The more she thought about it, the colder Liliana felt.
Voban seemed unconcerned with his subordinate's distraction and continued speaking on his own.
"Speaking of that one, her recent prophecies appear somewhat inaccurate. I had intended to meet the goddess who, according to prophecy, would return to her true form in a trinity and bring about a starless night. Yet in the brief time I took a nap, she was already dealt with."
When he said this, Marquis Voban's tone did not reveal any obvious displeasure.
Although this was already the second time prey he had earmarked for himself had been hunted by someone else, it equally indicated that there was an opponent here worthy of battle.
"Liliana, I hear you are quite familiar with someone from the Copper-Black Cross?"
"...Your Majesty refers to Erica Blandelli?"
"Other than her, only the King of Swords possesses the qualification to battle a god. But according to my understanding of that fellow, his strength is insufficient for such a feat. I heard that the authority that girl usurped belonged to the Persian war god."
Licking his lips, Voban smiled as he drank his sake like water.
After several days of contact, it was easy to see that he possessed no qualities of a gourmet.
He ate and drank whatever was placed before him, caring neither for taste nor appearance, simply devouring everything to satisfy hunger and thirst.
"I am not very familiar with Erica after she became a Godslayer. I only crossed hands with her a few times before. Her personal talent can be considered genius among this generation of the Copper-Black Cross, but to say she could confront a god head-on... I cannot imagine it. Perhaps she was merely fortunate."
The Copper-Black Cross to which Erica belonged and the Bronze-Black Cross to which Liliana belonged were themselves rival magical societies.
Moreover, the two were the most outstanding successors of their respective organizations among the younger generation. Their talent, physical ability, and magical attainments were astonishingly similar.
Even their appearances placed them among the most beautiful of their peers.
And—secretly—their private relationship was actually quite good.
Yet precisely because of this, Liliana could not imagine Erica possessing the strength to defeat a god head-on.
"Once may be luck—"
Marquis Voban spoke indifferently. "But resolving that goddess a second time in such a short span cannot be attributed merely to luck. Either she herself, or someone beside her, possesses a power not to be underestimated."
If such a conjecture were made by an ordinary person, it would remain speculation.
But if spoken by a Godslayer, it could essentially be regarded as fact.
"In that case, who should be entrusted with investigating this power? Indeed, such work can only be assigned to a witch—Maria Teresa, come forth."
Voban called out a woman's name.
In response, a deceased woman appeared from the void—wearing a large black hat, her eyes sunken—one of the servants of death belonging to Marquis Voban's authority Death Servant.
"Use every skill you possessed in life. Find this person."
Nodding to the savage command, the witch who had become a servant of death vanished once more.
Meanwhile, within Satsuki's residence.
The system—or rather, the goddess Metis—after a period of familiarization, had finally completely mastered the abilities and divine power of this body.
Just as she was about to step outside happily, she collided head-on with Satsuki, who had just returned.
"Perfect timing."
Satsuki glanced at her, a satisfied expression appearing on her face. Then she uttered a sentence that sent a chill down Metis' spine.
"Host, what is it this time?"
Metis instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. She did not even know where she had picked up that habit—but as Satsuki's system, she knew this host far too well.
This woman never acted without purpose.
After sizing her up, Satsuki spoke in a calm, indifferent tone.
"As a goddess, you possess basic possession abilities, correct?"
"That is my specialty."
Whether as a system or in her current divine body, this was her domain of expertise.
"In that case, descend upon me in the form of divine possession. Now."
"Yes."
The moment the word fell, violet divine power surged around Metis' body. Her form and power transformed into the image of a Winged Serpent.
Its raised serpent head radiated darkness and death. Wherever its gaze fell, a mere thought could unleash rays capable of petrifying even gods.
Then the ferocious divine beast lunged toward Satsuki and coiled tightly around her body.
"What a crude method of possession. If this were an ordinary body, it would not even withstand the infusion of such power."
As the foreign divine power poured into her from the coiling Winged Serpent, vast waves of godly energy erupted from Satsuki's body. Violet divinity formed a tangible vortex in midair, surging upward, piercing through space itself, and refracting into the present world.
Her appearance began to change.
Under the influence of Athena's divine power, her jet-black hair seemed to trigger some strange transformation, gradually shifting toward silver-white.
However, after several flickers between black and white, it ultimately returned to its original dark hue.
Upon her head appeared a golden olive wreath. At her temples, miniature Candle Nine Yin horns manifested, while the Ōtsutsuki earrings still hung at her ears.
The black outer garment she wore transformed into a looser style. With even the slightest breeze, it threatened to reveal glimpses of skin.
The long sleeves at her shoulders and wrists vanished, replaced by black fingerless gloves extending from her upper arms, each glove secured with a single finger loop. Golden rings encircled their ends, exposing one-third of her smooth, fair arms. On the backs of her hands bloomed ruby ornaments shaped like mandala flowers.
Since much of her lower half was already covered in Greek-style attire, she still wore black stockings as a versatile base layer. Golden inscriptions for aesthetic embellishment appeared along their surface.
On one foot, a lightning motif was engraved. On the other, a trident.
It symbolized the rebellious Athena's ambition to trample Zeus and Poseidon beneath her feet.
When the transformation completed and she opened her eyes once more, her originally golden pupils had become one gold and one violet.
She stepped before a mirror and briefly examined her reflection.
Her entire appearance had become even more alluring, the divine and the rebellious blending into a form that felt both elegant and seductive.
"Are you satisfied with the design I created for you, Host?"
"Gaudy."
Satsuki answered flatly, then turned her gaze toward the doorway.
Moments earlier, she had deliberately made no attempt to conceal the surge of divine power from Metis' possession.
It was bait.
If that old monster from Eastern Europe was indeed in Tokyo, he would never ignore such a disturbance.
Sure enough, after a brief sweep with her Tenseigan, Satsuki discovered a presence saturated with death rapidly approaching. From Athena's divine sight, it appeared to be a puppet restrained by an authority related to Death.
"The old wolf's authority—Death Servant. Those he personally kills—humans, divine beasts, demons, even artificial beings with souls—are preserved as living corpses and bound as absolutely obedient servants. Souls imprisoned by this authority will regenerate after a period of time, even if their physical bodies are destroyed."
From a certain perspective, it resembled an inferior version of Samsara Genesis.
With that thought, Satsuki stepped through the sliding door and into the covered corridor of the courtyard.
From the shadow cast beneath the outer eaves, a figure suddenly emerged.
The person wore tattered purple robes beneath rusted, dull armor.
Perhaps it had once been glorious battle attire. Now, it looked like scrap metal that might crumble under a mere gale.
A helmet obscured her face. Only her figure suggested she was female, and the magic within her body reached first-rate standards.
After all, someone personally slain by Marquis Voban could not possibly have been as insignificant as the rabble who had attacked Satsuki before.
She offered a slight bow toward Satsuki.
Then she raised the staff in her hand and pointed it toward the courtyard.
In the blink of an eye, a massive magic circle formed beneath her feet. The soil trembled, collapsing inward toward the center of the formation. Amid violent shaking, the upper half of an earth golem emerged.
"Only capable of summoning such a low-tier golem? It seems I overestimated the magical standards of this world."
In both the YGGDRASIL world and the Fate world, summoning magic was common, and golems were among the most ordinary creations.
The lowest class was precisely the earth golem before her.
Satsuki had no interest in waiting for the spell's completion. Although the opponent had used instant-cast techniques to summon it, the golem still required time to fully form.
For Satsuki, that span was unbearably long.
And—using a puppet to test her?
How laughable.
The last person who dared do such a thing was named Toneri Ōtsutsuki. That one had ended up knocked unconscious by his own puppet subordinate and bedridden for days.
In reality, Satsuki merely glanced once at the so-called Death Servant.
Instantly, the death-binding authority wrapped around the servant was dispersed and replaced by an even greater power. In the blink of an eye, the ownership of the puppet—formerly belonging to Marquis Voban—transferred into Satsuki's hands.
Having fully mastered Samsara Genesis, a technique capable of manipulating souls, controlling the living or the dead was effortless for her.
Moreover, Metis' divine power now resided within her body.
Metis was herself a goddess who governed death and the underworld. In terms of authority alone, she vastly surpassed the power behind this Death Servant. Others might be unable to destroy such servants completely, but for a goddess of the underworld, eliminating such a being would be as easy as exhaling.
Naturally, Satsuki had no intention of destroying the puppet. It still had its uses.
Her gaze settled upon it.
Within her violet eye, the authority of the underworld goddess Metis activated. In her hand appeared the Book of the Werewolf she had borrowed from Yuri Mariya.
Previously, she had asked Yuri to use Spirit Vision to investigate the opponent's information. Although the attempt had been cut short by the keen instincts of the oldest Campione, preventing a definitive result, it had revealed one crucial clue—
Marquis Voban was connected to Homo homini lupus.
Through the resonance of the ancient tome and the connection to the Death Servant before her, Satsuki's divinity-laden violet eyes pierced through the river of fate long shrouded in mist.
Her vision reached across the distance to a hotel within Tokyo's urban district.
There, the owner of those green demonic eyes seemed to sense her as well, returning the gaze across space itself.
Cold smiles appeared simultaneously on both their lips.
"Found you."*2