— — — — — —
Observing the world of Strike the Blood had paid off handsomely. Because its mythology was so volatile—so easily altered—Ryo had earned a staggering 120,000 points.
Added to the 28,000 he'd saved up before, his total had once peaked at 148,000.
Then came the cost of modifying the Cleansing Ritual to make it capable of producing machine god-seeds: 15,000 points gone in an instant.
That left him with 133,000.
If Algol hadn't supplied experimental subjects, and if he hadn't had access to the data on how the various races in the Strike the Blood world had been altered, he was certain the price would've climbed at least another 50,000.
He knew exactly how hard points were to earn on the Dimensional Forum—and how absurdly valuable they were.
Saving fifty thousand? Of course he was pleased.
"Honestly… I didn't expect this plan to actually work."
Leticia let out a faint sigh as she gazed at the two Greek gods standing obediently under command.
Counting carefully, Arcadia now had three four-digit rule-breakers (freaks).
That was already the bare minimum needed to form a proper pantheon. They could even attempt a structure like Takamagahara's three-god system.
Former leader Koumei Kasukabe and former chief of staff Canaria had spent thousands of years building the community, and never brought it to this level.
In terms of top-tier combat strength, the current Arcadia crushed the previous generation. Back then, all of Arcadia's main forces combined might have equaled two rule-breaker four-digit beings.
Under Ryo, they now had three.
"I told you—when I make a move, you can relax."
Ryo couldn't help feeling a flicker of pride. But it vanished almost as quickly as it came.
Self-satisfaction was dangerous. If even Algol could manipulate an entire universe and seal it inside a painting, there was no way Greece lacked stronger methods.
"To be safe, I'll set up a cross-world gate later and bring in some powerful figures from the world I just observed."
"They're vampires, so…"
"I understand." Leticia gave a small nod.
"I'll fabricate an origin for them and have Thousand Eyes clean it up. We'll present them as half-blood vampires who heard of my return and came to pledge their allegiance."
Leticia Draculea was royalty among Little Garden's vampires—a pure-blooded vampire, one of the rarest to exist.
In Little Garden, one of the origin concepts of the vampire race, Vlad the Impaler, was in her hands.
Her reputation wasn't spotless—she had once been a Demon Lord—but she was still royalty. A few vampires seeking refuge under her banner would hardly raise eyebrows.
"That's not all I wanted you to think about."
Ryo turned to her. "You remember the Familiars I mentioned? I want your opinion on how to handle this new system."
In Little Garden, Familiars—originally known as Beast Vassals—were something entirely new. They had never existed here before.
At present, only vampires could wield them. In a way, they were like a new type of summoning Gift. There would definitely be a market for that.
In Strike the Blood, other races couldn't endure Familiars. Forcing control over them would shorten their lifespan.
But in Little Garden? Long-lived races were everywhere. Plenty of them wouldn't care about a bit of lifespan drain.
Which meant Familiars could very well become a new powerful Gift.
With Ryo around, no one would dare covet them openly. Still, if Familiars were to have a legitimate origin story, it would be best for Leticia to present it.
She fell into quiet thought before speaking.
"I can claim Familiars are a byproduct of my attempt to break through into the rule-breaker four-digit tier."
"But before that, I'll need to split the vampire race concept I hold and distribute fragments of it to the newcomers. Then gather it all back together."
"Not enough."
Ryo shook his head, studying her face—at once valiant and elegant. "You could try turning the Huge Dragon into your own Familiar."
Leticia looked up sharply.
After a long pause, she gave a helpless smile. "You really have the nerve to say that to my face."
The Huge Dragon could only be summoned by someone who possessed a Sun Authority and shared a connection with dragonkind. Leticia fulfilled both conditions. She held Ophiuchus' Sun Authority, and her body had been born from the lineage of a pure-blooded dragon. With those two qualifications in place, the Huge Dragon would answer her call.
That dragon traced its existence back to the very origin of the vampire race—the pure-blooded true dragon that had created vampires.
To make it into a Familiar was essentially enslaving a god born from one's own faith.
Blasphemy, plain and simple.
Ryo remained calm. "A bad reputation matters less than power. That's advice from your disciple."
"But a person shouldn't act solely for power. That would make them a slave to it. That's advice from your teacher."
Silence settled between them.
After a while, Leticia relented, "... I'll try."
She clasped her hands behind her back and smiled wryly. "It is my leader's order, after all. And besides… a butcher of her own kind, a vampire impaler like me, betraying a god isn't exactly out of character, is it?"
Ryo's lips twitched, but he said nothing. He simply stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
He didn't speak.
"..."
Inside the painting, Algol tilted her head toward the sky.
Could you two youngsters maybe spare a thought for this big sister? Hugging and whispering right in front of me—really?
Oh, now you're kissing? Hey—are you about to go further?
Algol grumbled internally, feeling inexplicably full, like she'd just been force-fed.
When their emotions had ripened just enough, she finally snapped. Pinching her throat, she imitated Kurousagi's voice:
"Lady Leticia? Ryo? Are you inside?"
Ryo was abruptly shoved away, tumbling out of the shadow world and landing in the corridor outside the underground prison.
Inside the cell, Hermes and Ares both turned sharply to stare at him.
"…."
Ryo stood in silence for a moment, mentally cursing Algol a hundred times over. Then he schooled his expression and asked coldly. "Are you two ready?"
"More or less." Hermes sounded a little perfunctory.
Ares let out a low whistle.
Ryo fixed them with a long, unblinking stare. Only when both gods stiffened and avoided his gaze did he nod slowly.
"Good. Then we depart."
"Depart? To where?" Ares asked, puzzled.
Ryo's eyes sharpened.
"Olympus."
.
.
.