Liam stood at a distance, hidden among the trees, watching the departure of Astraea Familia. Their figures moved steadily along the forest path, laughter and light conversation drifting faintly through the morning air. Beside them walked a familiar silver-haired woman in white—Marilda.
Except Marilda was not truly there.
And neither was Liam.
At present, he wore none of his borrowed forms. He was neither the majestic wolf king Andrius nor the elegant spirit called Marilda. He stood only as himself, plain and unnoticed, cloaked by distance and shadow.
So why was another Marilda walking beside Astraea's group?
The answer was simple.
A clone.
More precisely, a manifested projection born from the mechanisms of his Trial. The same mysterious force that created challenges for those who sought the Wolf's Grave had, apparently, granted him something else: the ability to shape lesser avatars from Andrius's power.
He had discovered it only recently. Even without transforming through the character card itself, he could still wield fragments of Andrius's authority. Wind, frost, summons… and now this imitation body.
Of course, the clone was far weaker than his true transformed state. Its presence felt thinner, less absolute, like moonlight compared to the sun. Yet to others, especially in this world, it was convincing enough.
After all, spirits were beings of pure magical essence. Creatures born from power rather than flesh. If "Marilda" seemed slightly unnatural or distant, no one would question it. They would simply assume that was the nature of spirits.
Even Astraea likely would not suspect anything.
Unless she directly asked whether Marilda was truly Marilda.
That was the danger.
Gods in this world could discern lies from truth. Their divine instincts were no joke. If cornered carelessly, his deception could unravel instantly. Which meant one rule mattered above all others: never allow that question to be asked.
Liam folded his arms and exhaled.
Two identities were safer than one.
One could move freely through Orario, build relationships and gather information.
The other could become normal adventure and just enjoy normal civilization life.
His gaze shifted from the departing familia to the center of the ruins. There, embedded in stone beneath the pale sky, stood the massive crimson-black greatsword—Wolf's Gravestone. Its blade gleamed with quiet menace, as though waiting for the hand worthy enough to claim it.
At the corner of Liam's vision, the familiar white panel flickered into existence.
[Quest Unlocked]
[Mission: Challenge the Trial]
[Condition: Prove your worth]
[Reward: Unlocking 3/3 – Lupus Boreas, Dominator of Wolves]
[Additional Reward: Greatsword Weapon – Wolf's Gravestone]
Liam blinked.
"The final unlock already?" he muttered.
He had expected the last mission to come later—after some grand event, perhaps after defeating a powerful enemy or protecting Astraea Familia. Not this soon.
Still… there was an obvious problem.
There was no real Andrius here.
So how exactly was he supposed to challenge the Trial?
He frowned, then slowly looked toward the sword.
"…Can I just fight myself?"
It sounded absurd. Yet with this system, absurdity often became reality. If he summoned his clone, entered as challenger, and defeated it—would that count?
A moment later, the panel shimmered and updated itself, as if mocking his attempt to exploit it.
[Tutorial: Upon activation, the challenger will be transported to a Trial Domain.]
[Direct self-manipulation loopholes restricted.]
Liam stared at the screen in silence.
Then he clicked his tongue.
"So it got nerfed the moment I thought of it."
Liam walked alone toward the trial grounds.
The wolves stationed around the ruins noticed him immediately. Heads snapped in his direction, ears flattening, low growls rolling through the air like distant thunder. One by one, they rose from their resting places, hackles raised.
To them, the one approaching was not their god.
Not the great white wolf who ruled frost and wind.
Only a weak human.
And yet… something about him was wrong. Familiar. Beneath the scent of mortal flesh lingered a trace of the same presence they revered—the cold majesty of their lord. It clung to him faintly, enough to stir confusion in every beast present.
The wolves circled restlessly, unsure whether to bare their fangs or bow their heads. Instinct urged aggression. Reverence urged restraint.
Several turned their heads, searching for their pack leader—the scarred alpha who would decide such matters. But no matter where they looked, he was nowhere to be found.
The beasts whined uneasily.
Unable to find their leader, and unwilling to attack something that carried their lord's scent, they eventually stepped aside. Narrowly. Reluctantly.
Liam passed through them without a word.
He kept his gaze forward, pretending not to notice the dozens of eyes tracking his every step. His pulse, however, betrayed him.
At the center of the ruined arena stood Wolf's Gravestone, embedded deep within the stone like a monument left by gods. Crimson-black metal caught the pale daylight, its surface etched with age and memory. It felt less like a weapon and more like judgment given shape.
Liam stopped before it.
Am I ready?
The question rose naturally, and he almost laughed at himself.
No.
If he were honest, he was nowhere near ready.
Inside, he was still just a modern man who had woken up in another world. Someone who once worried about bills, internet speed, and what to eat for dinner.
He could transform into Andrius and enter the trial that way. That would be safer and smarter.
But the quest's condition had been clear.
Prove your worth.
Not win through borrowed strength.
Not hide behind the card.
If he entered as Andrius, then what would he really prove? That the wolf king was strong? That a legendary being could pass his own trial?
None of that belonged to Liam.
It would only prove that without the character card… he was nothing.
His jaw tightened.
Liam closed his eyes and drew in a slow breath.
"Never rely on something you don't know will last forever," he murmured.
The system might vanish one day. The cards might fail. The power might be taken back. If that happened, whatever remained would be only him.
So better to know now.
He opened his eyes.
Fear was still there. So was doubt. But beneath both, something steadier had taken root. Resolve.
Slowly, Liam raised his hand and placed it against the hilt of Wolf's Gravestone. The metal was cold enough to sting.
A white panel appeared before him.
[Enter the Trial?]
[Y/N]
For a moment, the forest went silent. Even the wolves seemed to hold their breath.
Liam swallowed once.
Then he answered with complete honesty.
"Yes."
--------divide---------
Several days after departing the forest, Astraea Familia finally arrived at the gates of Orario.
The city rose before them like a monument to mortal ambition—vast stone walls, crowded avenues, towers piercing the sky its pillar of Babel, reaching upward as though it sought to challenge the heavens themselves. Even from a distance, the place radiated movement, wealth, and danger.
Marilda gazed upon it in silence.
Though wonder stirred within her, little of it reached her face. Her golden eyes simply traced the skyline, taking in every detail with quiet intensity.
Beside her, Astraea smiled softly.
"Welcome to Orario, Marilda."
Marilda inclined her head. "It is… larger than I expected."
"That is one way to describe it," Alise laughed from behind. "Give it a day and you'll call it noisy instead."
Kaguya folded her arms. "Give it two days and Captain will drag you into three taverns, five shops, and one unnecessary argument."
"That only happened once," Alise protested.
"Twice," Ryuu corrected calmly.
The group's laughter carried them through the gate.
As soon as Marilda crossed the threshold, however, a sharp sensation brushed against her senses—as though unseen fingers had traced along her skin.
Her expression did not change, but her gaze lifted immediately toward the Tower of Babel.
At one of its upper levels, hidden behind elegant glass and distance, she felt it. Someone watching. Someone powerful.
Marilda's eyes narrowed slightly.
That goddess noticed me faster than expected.
Did she truly have nothing better to do than sit above the city and watch every person who entered?
Astraea noticed the subtle shift in Marilda's attention and followed her gaze. She understood at once.
Freya.
The goddess of beauty was many things—dangerous chief among them. Yet Astraea kept her expression calm.
What could Freya do? Attempt to steal her newly found guardian spirit?
Even if she tried, Astraea doubted Marilda would be swayed by shallow charm.
…Unless.
Astraea exhaled quietly. She was letting suspicion run ahead of reason. Better to secure the contract first, then worry about unpredictable goddesses later.
"We should head straight to the Guild," Astraea said. "Let us finish the formalities quickly."
No one objected.
In truth, none of Astraea Familia wished to return home yet. Once the contract was complete, their goddess would surely celebrate and no one wanted to miss the occasion.
Tower of Babel
Far above the city, in chambers draped with luxury, a silver-haired goddess reclined upon an ornate couch, one leg crossed over the other as she sipped from a crystal glass of wine.
Freya smiled faintly as she looked down upon the streets below.
"Astraea truly has a talent for finding interesting things beyond the walls."
Her voice was smooth, amused… though a hint of envy lingered beneath it.
She turned her head slightly.
"Ottar, dear. Find everything you can about that woman."
Standing motionless nearby was a towering beastman whose presence alone could silence a room. Without hesitation, he bowed deeply.
"As you wish, Kami-sama."
His voice was steady and reverent. Then he turned and left the chamber.
Freya lazily waved a hand after him before returning her attention to the city beneath.
She continued watching the endless flow of people—merchants, adventurers, nobles, fools.
Then suddenly, her eyes sharpened.
"…Wait."
She leaned forward, setting aside her glass.
At the gate below, another figure had just entered Orario.
Freya's lips slowly curved.
"What an interesting soul."
Unlike others whose soul burned with various color, greed, ambition, lust, fear, or pride… this one was strangely blank.
Not empty.
Untouched.
Like a pristine canvas waiting for the first stroke of paint.
Her tongue brushed lightly across her lips.
"How rare."
At the City Gate Below
Liam had just stepped through the entrance when a violent shiver ran through his body.
He stopped mid-step.
"…Why do I suddenly feel like someone's plotting against me?"
He glanced around suspiciously, but saw nothing except bustling crowds and guards checking carts.
With a sigh, he dusted off his clothes and adjusted the massive greatsword strapped across his back.
Wolf's Gravestone shifted with crushing weight.
The force nearly bent him backward.
"This thing is going to break my spine…" he muttered through clenched teeth.
Each step into Orario felt less like an entrance and more like punishment.
(A/n: Hi?)