The night air in Orario usually carried the scent of soot from blacksmith chimneys and the cold dew descending from the Beor Mountains. But that night, to Alfia, the atmosphere around her suddenly felt suffocating, bearing a magical pressure so dense and cold that it froze her entire combat intuition.
It all started a few hours ago. The Silence, whose combat instincts never truly slept, caught the drunkard god standing at the church windowsill. Venti was not holding a wine cup or plucking his wooden lyre. The androgynous youth stood petrified, staring straight at the northern sky with a pair of teal eyes radiating ancient divinity. That gaze did not belong to a street bard, but to an elemental ruler listening to a groan from the edge of the world.
From the brief but deadly conversation that night, Alfia finally learned the absolute madness nesting in her god's head. Venti intended to go to the Dragon Valley.
To the nest of the One-Eyed Black Dragon.
"You are insane," Alfia remembered how her voice hissed, laden with rational anger and fear. "In this gekai, gods are strictly forbidden from using the power of Arcanum. If you violate it, a pillar of light will immediately drag you back to the Tenkai. And if you don't use it... you'll just turn to dust in the face of that dragon's breath!"
However, Venti only smiled with a facial expression whose age seemed to span thousands of years. He had his own plan. Even so, Alfia didn't care about the technicalities. She used her full authority as the Familia captain, pressuring the god, and forcing him not to step out that very night.
"Let's make a plan," Alfia demanded with an absolute tone that accepted no refusal. "You are not leaving tonight empty-headed, Venti."
The youth finally yielded, raising his hands in surrender, and agreed to discuss his strategy. They spent time devising an alibi, planning an escape route, and considering the worst-case scenarios. Alfia felt a little relieved, thinking she had successfully bound the wind.
How foolish she was.
A few hours later, when Alfia woke up to check the main hall, the room was completely empty. On the wooden table, only a piece of parchment with messy handwriting remained, telling her to look for wine if she missed him.
Venti had left without saying goodbye.
"Bastard thief," Alfia cursed in the darkness of the church, crushing the letter in her hand. She cursed her own naivety. Of course the wind could not be bound. Venti chose to leave secretly to avoid an emotional farewell that might hold back his steps.
And then, the world proved just how dangerous that departure was.
GRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!
That soundwave struck Orario like an invisible sledgehammer. It wasn't just a sound; it was a physical manifestation of pure despair. The stained-glass windows of the church rattled violently, nearly shattering. The air in Alfia's lungs felt sucked out, replaced by a chill that shook her to the marrow of her bones.
It was the roar of the One-Eyed Black Dragon. The sound of the monster that had annihilated the Level 8 and Level 9 captains of the Zeus and Hera Familias as if they were mere dry twigs.
Alfia instantly dropped to one knee, not because of the air pressure, but because of the psychological terror striking her solar plexus. Her breathing became heavy, and her body trembled faintly as she was forced to swallow back the despair of the past that crept coldly along her temples.
"Venti..." she whispered, her voice trembling violently.
Did that roar of fury mean the god had been caught? Had the God of Wind just been turned to ashes by the all-consuming black fire?
With trembling hands, Alfia touched her left back, exactly where the sacred Falna hieroglyphs depicting a Cecilia flower, a lyre, and a feather were carved onto her skin. She closed her eyes, focusing all her magical senses to feel the spiritual bond.
Warm.
The tattoo still radiated a gentle warmth and pulsed rhythmically. The lifeline connecting Alfia to Venti's divinity had not been severed. The god was still alive. Somehow, that crazy youth had managed to disturb the sleep of the apocalypse and survived to tell the tale.
A long sigh, laden with relief but also accompanied by peaking anger, escaped the pale lips of the Silence. "If you dare come home alive, you Foolish God," she growled at the night, "I swear I'll smash every single one of your wine bottles and punch that goofy face of yours."
"You stare north as if you want to level the mountains with Genos Angelus, Sister."
That soft yet weak voice broke Alfia's tension. She turned quickly and found Meteria standing in the doorway of the room. Her younger sister was holding her growing belly in a protective pose, wearing a long white nightgown. Meteria's face was extremely pale due to the shock of the monster's roar earlier, but her blue eyes radiated a strange calmness.
Alfia immediately stood up, smoothing her facial expression back into a cold mask. She walked swiftly toward her sister, supporting her with extra care as if Meteria were made of fragile glass.
"You should stay in bed. Cover your ears tightly," Alfia reprimanded firmly, guiding Meteria to the nearest wooden bench. "The night air permeated with panic is not good for the child in your womb."
Meteria complied, letting her overprotective sister manage her. After Alfia ensured her sister was seated comfortably and draped a thick cloak over her shoulders, a momentary silence enveloped them both. Only the ticking of the old clock in the corner of the room broke the quiet.
However, Meteria never let silence cover the truth.
"Do you like Venti-sama, Sister?"
The question slipped out just like that from Meteria's lips, as light as a spring breeze, but its effect on Alfia was as hard as a mace strike.
Alfia's heterochromatic eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Her body tensed. However, with the high-level self-control of a Level 7 executive, she immediately neutralized her expression into an absolute block of ice.
"What kind of nonsense is poisoning your mind, Meteria?" Alfia retorted flatly, her tone sharp. "He is our patron god. The entity that gave you a second chance. My responsibility is to ensure he doesn't die a foolish death due to his own stupidity, nothing more and nothing less."
Meteria chuckled softly. The laugh sounded clear, chasing away the remnants of terror from the dragon's roar earlier. She looked at her sister with a meaningful gaze.
"Sister, we are twins who shared the same womb," Meteria said gently. "How could I not read my own sister's nature? I see the way you look at him when he's plucking his lyre in the afternoon. I see the way you cook the best part of the bone broth just for his bowl, and then you scold him about nutrition so your care looks like a reprimand. You can fool the world with your flat face, Sister, but you cannot fool your own mirror."
Alfia looked away, staring at the glow of the magic stone lamp in the corner of the room which suddenly flickered dimly, resonating with the residual wind energy swirling outside the window crevices. Her jaw tightened. She absolutely hated this kind of emotional vulnerability. In the marble palace of the Hera Familia, emotion was a weakness, and love was a weapon the enemy would use to kill you.
"Love between a human and a god... it never has a happy ending, Meteria," Alfia finally said, her voice dropping, bearing a heartbreaking philosophical weight. "It is merely a bittersweet tragedy whose expiration date is predetermined from the start."
Alfia turned back to look at her sister, letting a hint of sadness escape from behind the walls of her eyes. "Humans have absolute limits. We are mortal. We can fall ill, we age, our skin wrinkles, and ultimately we die to become a pile of dust beneath the earth. While gods? They are eternity itself. They will remain young, untouched by time, forever."
She cupped her hands, squeezing her own fingers. "When a human dares to fall in love with a god, and the god returns it... in the end, the god must be prepared to endure a horrifying psychological torment. They must watch their partner slowly age, weaken, lose the blush of life, and die in their arms. That is the curse of eternity that brings endless sorrow to the god left behind."
Alfia took a deep breath. "I will not be that selfish. Venti saved your life, giving me a new purpose to live. I will not burden him with eternal grief just because of the momentary ego of a mortal human girl."
Meteria listened to every word her sister said in silence. She rubbed her belly softly, absorbing the cruel logic that had always been Alfia's guiding principle in life. Her sister always thought too rationally, too far ahead, calculating the suffering at the finish line until she forgot how to enjoy the step at the starting line.
But this time, Meteria would not let that pessimistic logic win.
"In that case," Meteria tilted her head, her silver eyes sparkling with a resolve that left Alfia stunned, "You just need to shatter that mortal limit, Sister. You must continue to grow stronger."
Alfia furrowed her brow deeply. "What do you mean?"
"Throughout human history since the Falna was bestowed upon the Gekai realm, not a single mortal child has truly been able to break through and ascend to Level 10," Meteria said, her voice flowing with conviction. "But you are different, Sister. You are an anomaly. You are praised by the world and the gods as the Incarnation of Talent. Your talent is a miracle that defies common sense. If there is one person in all of Orario, in this entire world capable of reaching that peak of impossibility, it is you."
Alfia's body stiffened. Her memory was instantly thrown back to the past, to a night on the highest balcony of the Hera Familia's marble palace. She remembered the arrogant Goddess Hera gazing at the stars while holding a glass of wine.
'You know, my dear Alfia,' Hera's voice, full of arrogance and authority, echoed in her head. 'The hierarchy of power in the lower world has a secret theory. Levels 1 to 9 are merely the phase of forging the mortal vessel. However, if someday a soul manages to break the limit and reach Level 10... they are theoretically no longer considered human. They will evolve, transcending natural death, becoming a Demi-God. An existence closest to a god in the lower world.'
"If you truly love Venti-sama," Meteria urged, taking Alfia's hand and gripping it tightly, "then reach that Level 10! Shatter the wall of mortality you fear!"
Meteria smiled, a smile that was incredibly sincere and blinding. "Love must be fought for with your own hands, Sister. It sees no race, no age hierarchy, and cares nothing for the boundaries between gods and humans. If you love him, chase him. Confess your feelings wholeheartedly without regrets!"
To Alfia, the enthusiastic and fiery encouragement from her younger sister felt like a lethal mental magic attack. Her pale face, usually as cold as eternal snow, suddenly felt intensely hot. She imagined herself—The Silence, the witch who brought the apocalypse—standing blushing in front of that petite, drunkard god and uttering words of love. The thought was purely humiliating and shattered her pride.
"Shut your mouth, Meteria," Alfia hissed cynically, turning her face away quickly to hide the red flush on her cheeks. "That advice of yours is truly ridiculous and embarrassing. I am only sixteen, my journey is still long. Besides... maybe... maybe when I reach Level 9 or 10 later, I will only slightly consider it."
Alfia snorted roughly, trying to deflect this topic that was cornering her. "Furthermore, don't act like you can lecture me about love. At least I wasn't stupid and careless enough to get pregnant at a young age."
Alfia narrowed her eyes, glaring sharply at Meteria's belly. The emotions she had been suppressing all this time finally found a way out. "And speaking of which... even to this second my logic still cannot accept this reality. Why? Why out of all the great heroes, nobles, or knights in this world, did you choose to love that bastard, cowardly, loud, and weakest man of the Zeus Familia?!"
Hearing that interrogating question, instead of feeling offended, Meteria's smile only grew wider and more sincere. She looked down at her swollen belly, rubbing it with a tenderness only a mother possessed.
"Because... he was the only person in Orario who saw me as Meteria," she answered in a voice that flowed like a beautiful melody.
Meteria met her sister's eyes. "In the Hera Familia, everyone, including you, treated me as if I were made of cracked porcelain that would shatter if the wind blew. You offered pity, excessive care, or looked at me with a suffocating sadness. But he didn't."
Meteria's smile softened as memories of the white-haired man played in her mind. "He came to my medicine-smelling bed with an attitude that was very casual, honest, humorous, and genuine. He didn't see my illness; he saw a bored girl who needed someone to talk to."
Meteria chuckled. "Considering how terrifying the Hera Familia's reputation was—especially because they had a sadistic executioner like you as my gatekeeper—there was hardly a sane man in all of Orario who dared approach our territory. Just meeting your eyes made them wet their pants. But my husband... even though he was known as the biggest coward in his familia, he possessed an extraordinary, reckless courage for love. He was willing to risk his life, jumping over your thorny walls, just to sneak into my room and tell silly jokes."
The vein on Alfia's temple twitched violently. She remembered exactly how many times she had to chant a spell to throw that man out of the palace window until his spine cracked, yet the next day the man would come back with a battered face.
"You realize, don't you, that the man you're so proud of is a severe pervert whose hobby is peeping at goddesses' baths with Zeus?" Alfia attacked, trying to shatter the romantic hero image her sister had built.
"Of course I know," Meteria giggled innocently, her eyes crinkling with laughter. "But instead of feeling disgusted or angry like you, Sister, I actually found his foolish and perverted antics very funny. Hearing stories about how he ran away terrified because he was chased by Goddess Hera's wrath or got kicked by Captain Maxim when caught peeping, it was very entertaining for my monotonous days in bed."
Meteria sighed softly, her laughter subsiding to be replaced by a peaceful, melancholic look. "Besides, Sister... fundamentally, the two of us were very similar."
Alfia frowned. "Similar from what perspective?"
"Alfia was born with an absolute combat talent that shook heaven and earth, while I, your twin, was born completely empty, without any magical or physical talent other than this deadly disease. On the other hand, he was also surrounded by monsters like Zald and Maxim, yet he was branded as the 'most untalented person' in the entire history of the Zeus Familia."
Meteria clasped Alfia's hand again. "We were both black shadows created from the overly bright light of our familias. Because we both realized how painful it was to be the 'untalented' ones, we understood each other. That sense of shared fate is what bound our souls."
Alfia fell completely silent. Her mouth opened slightly, but not a single word came out.
In the face of pure innocence, absolute acceptance, and unconditional love expressed by her sister, the entire wall of arrogance and cynical rationality that had been Alfia's shield slowly crumbled to nothingness. She finally realized that on the battlefield called feelings, even a Level 7 adventurer could be utterly defeated by a fragile girl lying on a mattress.
Alfia took a deep breath, letting the foreign yet soothing warmth permeate her chest. For the first time since she was born into this world, the Silence stopped looking for logical excuses. She turned her face toward the window, letting the night breeze touch her cheek, and in the deepest silence of her heart, she began to hope that the figure who brought the wind of freedom would return home soon.
She only wanted to see Meteria keep smiling like this, forever.
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