Zald flexed his limbs with childlike enthusiasm, waving his arms in exaggerated arcs as if shedding years of lingering poison-induced frustration. His legs lifted high into the air, stretching and kicking, followed by an impromptu set of one-handed push-ups against the church floor.
With each movement, he could feel it—normal blood circulation, vitality returning, and a renewed sense of control over his body. It was exhilarating.
Akira, watching from the bench, rolled his eyes.
"Is all that really necessary?" He sighed dramatically.
Honestly, he thought to himself, 'If I didn't feel bad about you possibly ending up broke after the treatment, I wouldn't be feeling this weird sense of guilt right now.'
Curling his lips into a disdainful pout, Akira grumbled, "I'm happy to save you and all, but you better understand one thing. Those four bottles weren't mine, they're the property of the familia."
After throwing out that stern reminder, Akira collapsed back onto the bench with a melodramatic sigh, face painted with mock despair.
Zald, having heard Akira's words, paused mid-push-up… then burst into hearty laughter.
"Hahaha! You're not wrong." He nodded with appreciation.
As expected of someone from the Justice Familia, this attitude, this upright personality, it really suited Zald's taste.
Honestly, no matter what Akira said at this point, Zald would have agreed with it wholeheartedly. Even if Akira claimed a pile of dung smelled pleasant, Zald would probably nod in solemn agreement.
Chuckling to himself, Zald took large strides toward a bench and sat down heavily.
Except… the bench clearly wasn't built to accommodate a two-meter-tall muscle mountain. With a loud creak, the once-sturdy seat groaned under the pressure, visibly tilting off-balance. It looked like it would fall apart at any moment.
Akira raised an eyebrow and teased, "So, uncle Gluttony, are you satisfied with my performance?"
He dragged out the nickname on purpose, grinning as he emphasized each syllable with exaggerated amusement.
This guy had come charging in, talking big and then got thoroughly thrashed.
Zald blinked in surprise, then snorted and finally burst into laughter, his mirth echoing through the church's empty halls.
"Hahaha! Satisfied. Very satisfied."
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye and nodded in heartfelt approval. "To be able to fight someone like me to this extent… kid, you're a real monster."
Akira gave a modest shrug. "No, no, uncle, you're too generous. I was just lucky. You were only using one-tenth of your strength. Honestly, if we fight again, I probably wouldn't last five minutes."
"Hah, you sure know how to talk, kid."
Zald chuckled and gave a nod of approval. "Still, I mean it. Your strength and potential are beyond anything I imagined. Alfia's judgment is spot-on. You're incredible."
Akira raised an eyebrow, brushing off the compliment with a grin. "Uncle, don't try to change the subject now. I really want to know, why did you come to Orario?"
Zald's laughter slowly faded. His posture straightened, and his expression grew serious.
"Alright." He said with a deep breath, "No more jokes. You've proven your strength, and you deserve the truth."
His arms crossed over his broad chest, and his sharp gaze met Akira's curious eyes.
"The reason we came to Orario... is to find a hero. Someone who can inherit our will."
"Inherit your will?" Akira echoed, blinking in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Zald's expression shifted. He leaned forward slightly and began to recount the tale.
He spoke of how, in their final days, broken, poisoned, awaiting death, he and Alfia were approached by a mysterious god. A man who called himself Erebus. He offered them a different path.
Rather than fading into obscurity, Erebus persuaded them to head to Orario and play the role of villains.
Their purpose?
To ignite the flame of resistance, become the darkness that forges light, masquerade as enemies of the world so that the heroes of Orario would have something to fight against.
By posing as agents of Evilus, they would act as a catalyst for growth among the adventurers, pushing them to their limits, making them stronger. They were the necessary evil.
Zald's voice carried the weight of years. "It didn't matter to Erebus if he was branded as an evil god. Because... in truth, he's a showy, soft-hearted, and incredibly idealistic fool."
Akira listened in silence, his eyes narrowing.
According to Zald, Erebus held genuine affection for the children of the lower world. His goal was never destruction, but preparation. He saw Orario, the City of Heroes, as the last true hope against the looming crisis of the Black Dragon.
If nothing changed, that monster would bring annihilation. And if the city's strongest couldn't withstand mere shadows and darkness... then they'd never survive the coming storm. So Erebus took action.
Zald paused and added with a sardonic smile, "He always said it wasn't whitewashing. That kind of 'evil' can't be washed off, no matter what."
Akira's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He looked at the dusky light filtering through the church's stained glass windows, casting fragmented colors on the dusty floor. He remained silent for a long while.
Then, softly, he asked, "So this… God Erebus genuinely believes that forcing these tragedies onto Orario's adventurers will help them grow stronger?"
Zald nodded, his expression dark and complicated. "Yes. That's his belief. And to some extent… he's right."
He stared into the shadows of the church, a wistful look in his eyes.
"This ordeal, it's pushed many beyond their limits. It's forced strength to emerge. But..."
Zald's voice trailed off. A flicker of sorrow passed through his features.
"Innocents were caught in the crossfire. No matter how noble the cause, blood was spilled. Perhaps… if we hadn't joined this game, Evilus would've stayed hidden a bit longer. Lurking like wolves, waiting for the perfect time to strike."
He clenched his fist. "But still, we believe the final result won't be despair."
He looked directly at Akira. "Because we're certain, there are heroes here who can defeat us, even if we become demons."
That belief was the very thing that allowed them to play the villains without hesitation.
"I see..." Akira muttered, voice barely audible.
Akira sighed deeply in his heart, 'Heroes truly are something else. Even when crippled by time and poison, they still carry the desire to give back to the world…'
But that only made it more tragic. To see the former heroes, the legends, reduced to adversaries in this story... it was a sorrowful sight.
However—
A fierce light ignited in Akira's eyes. Now that he had come into this world, he refused to let this story end in tragedy.
Raising his head, his eyes burning with unshakable resolve, a fearless smile curled across his lips.
(End of Chapter)
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