Ares was the embodiment of martial valor, the god who presided over war, slaughter, and riots.
Every aspect of his Arcanum was a disaster to the Lower World.
There was no reason to expect anything like morality from such a god.
Once Ares had taken possession of a womb capable of producing outstanding warriors with absolute certainty, it was not difficult to imagine how he would use it.
Eleonora's future was easy to picture..... and it was bleak beyond measure.
She would be forced to repeatedly pair with powerful men, or men who possessed excellent magic and skills, all to provide Ares with a fresh supply of high-grade combatants.
From the greed in the eyes of the surrounding nobles, it was obvious that they had already begun looking at the princess as their target.
"Your Highness, please step forward."
The priest waved the staff in his hand, and the path ahead was filled with golden light.
Rayleigh could tell that it was some kind of enchantment magic.
Only, its effect was unclear.
At present, aside from looking gorgeous, its only apparent function was providing illumination in a dimly lit setting.
Barefoot, the girl walked across the red carpet and golden radiance, moving with measured steps until she arrived beneath the statue of the god.
Ares sat upon the throne before the statue.
As everyone knew, when receiving a Falna or updating one's ability values, one had to remove their clothes and expose their back.
But right now, they were in full public view.
Many of the men present could barely suppress the expectation in their hearts, all of them wanting to see the princess's skin.
"Come on, Aisha, take off your clothes!" Ares commanded with great boldness.
He did not consider complicated issues.
So his reason for doing this was not because he wanted to humiliate the girl.
He was simply impatient.
Eleonora—or rather, Aisha—stood there with her hands clenched in front of her, her heart caught in an unbearable struggle.
'Now that the moment has come, I really am afraid, Mother... Was it like this for you back then too?'
The girl glanced at the man standing beside Ares.
Her elder brother.
The king of this country.
At that moment, Marius did not even direct his gaze toward her. His expression was extremely indifferent.
As though the one about to be forced to expose her body in public was not his own younger sister.
The tip of the girl's nose stung.
She lowered her head, and her eyes turned dull and lifeless.
With slightly trembling hands, she undid the clasp of her shawl. The shawl slid down along her slender shoulders and fell neatly to the floor.
Her swanlike neck and rounded, snow-white shoulders were exposed.
The men's wicked laughter was subtle, but it still reached her ears.
'Mother...'
From within her ample bosom, she took out a pendant.
Aisha clenched it tightly in her palm.
And just then, she seemed to see words inside the gemstone set into the pendant.
No.
It was a message.
She raised her head and looked toward the circular dome of the Great Cathedral.
There, she noticed light being refracted inside.
She lifted the pendant with both hands and held it up to touch that beam of light.
Then she saw a line of text.
Or perhaps, a message left behind.
[I hope my daughter can live by her own will.]
'Mother?'
Was this her mother's final message to her?
Her own will.
To live freely.
Aisha gritted her teeth.
Memories from her childhood flashed through her mind, along with her mother's expression, empty and hollow like a walking corpse.
She had always thought her mother hated her.
Not only her, but the other children as well.
Because they were monsters who had taken away her life.
Because of their births, their mother had died at only thirty-five years old.... And yet, she had left such a message hidden inside this pendant.
This mechanism...
It was designed so that Aisha would only discover it when she stood before the same choice her mother once had.
After seeing this, the choice she made would decide her fate from this day onward.
Would she become like her mother?
Or would she resist?
Even if she did not possess the strength to resist, her will would never submit.
"Hoo..."
Aisha closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Then she said firmly, "Ares, god of War! I refuse to become your tool. I will not accept your Falna, and I will not allow you to control me!"
Her sudden declaration shocked everyone present.
Silence.
Utter silence.
The princess's words had stunned them all.
For a time, not a single sound could be heard.
Aside from the sound of flowing water, the Great Cathedral was deathly still.
King Marius also looked toward the blond princess in surprise.
A moment later, someone suddenly shouted, "What kind of joke is this?! To dare say such words to Lord Ares—this is disrespect!"
"Do you even know what you're saying, Your Highness?!"
"Even for royalty, this is unforgivable!"
Ares watched the commotion unfold without the slightest change in expression, as though everything before him were an illusion.
He looked at Aisha and said, "Bastet Familia, the Familia you belonged to, has already been defeated by me. And you are spoils of war. What is this talk of refusing? From the beginning, you never had that right."
Ares's tone was calm.
There was no psychological manipulation in it whatsoever.
He was simply stating the "facts."
He stood up and said to the blond girl below the steps, "Bastet lost to me. Her Familia was absorbed by mine. This is war. It is only natural for the defeated to have everything taken from them. For you to speak of refusal is a tremendous misunderstanding. You have long since become mine. My spoil of war! One of my important strategic resources."
"I refuse!"
Ares: "???"
He looked at Marius beside him, scratched his head, then looked back at the girl.
Had he said something wrong?
Why was this girl still so stubborn?
"You are unwilling to contribute your power, yet you enjoy special treatment. Do you not find that shameful?"
"Shameful?"
Aisha laughed from sheer rage.
"The ones who should feel ashamed are not me, but that incompetent king over there, whose country was stolen from him by you, and these people here who know nothing but pleasure and have no loyalty whatsoever!"
"Girl, are you insulting my warriors?" Ares grew angry, and his tone became much heavier.
Without hesitation, he drew the sword at his waist and threw it down at the girl's feet.
Aisha was afraid the blade would cut her, so she hurriedly dodged aside.
Ares laughed and said, "I understand now. Because you were dragged down by Bastet's defeat, you refuse to accept this, don't you? Then pick up the sword and duel one of my warriors. The victor obtains everything. The defeated, no matter how they are treated, shall have no complaints."
"How about it? I am giving you, a loser, another chance to challenge me. There is no need to thank me for my magnanimity. Simply show me your strength."
"Jäger."
Ares called forth a knight.
He had short brownish-yellow hair, deep-set eyes, a square face, and a tall, powerful build.
Aisha looked at her opponent, and her expression turned ugly.
What was this supposed to be?
A sword duel?
He wanted a powerless princess to fight a knight captain?
Was this god's head made entirely of muscle?!
Now, Aisha finally understood how foolish it was to try to reason with a god of war.
She did not complain, nor did she hesitate.
Instead, she bent down, picked up the sword, gripped it tightly with both hands, and awkwardly assumed the stance of royal swordsmanship.
To carve open a path with one's sword—someone had once said that was what chivalry was.
Ah, yes.
It had been an ancient hero.
She, too, had originally been a delicate princess, but when her nation faced crisis, she had stepped forward and became a princess knight whose name was recorded in history!
Aisha had no desire to study what chivalry truly meant.
But it seemed the time had indeed come for her to carve open a path.