"Enjoying, huh..." Kiriya repeated softly, the corner of his lips lifting slightly. But across the table, Wendy had started trembling. Her hands gripped the hem of her short skirt tightly, as if realizing she was sitting between two ticking time bombs that could go off if either of them said the wrong thing.
But before the atmosphere could become too heavy, Kiriya exhaled—then shifted his tone into something lighter, almost joking.
"Well, relax... I don’t mean any harm. In fact, I think I’m the one in danger here," he said, leaning back on the sofa as if the living room were his own.
Elanor chuckled softly. "Hohoho~ You do have a way with words, Mister Asano."
"Yeah, I tend to make a bad first impression," Kiriya shrugged, "but I figured you’re not the kind of person who gets offended by a few careless lines... especially not a Sage who’s reached the highest tier of magical understanding, right?"
For a moment, Elanor’s smile stiffened. But she quickly masked it with a graceful nod and raised her teacup. "I’ve been wondering... How did Mister Asano manage to learn who I am, just from court rumors? Could it be... someone leaked it to you?"
Kiriya simply stared back, his eyes calm like the surface of a lake. "No. I just guessed."
"...Guessed?" Wendy blinked. Her mouth fell open slightly, almost in disbelief. Even Elanor couldn’t fully hide her surprise.
"Just... a fairly logical guess. With a bit of intuition," Kiriya added, a faint smile slipping in.
"Indeed," Elanor said quietly, her voice lowering but deepening. "You’re different from other young men... It’s not just your boldness, but your sharp insight. I wasn’t wrong to suspect you aren’t from this world."
Wendy stiffened beside Kiriya. Her eyes widened, as if just realizing she was in far deeper than she thought.
"A hero summoning, huh?" Kiriya confirmed with a calm tone.
Elanor gave a subtle nod. "Isn’t it obvious? Your aura... it’s different. Just like those we’ve summoned from other worlds. Your energy doesn’t resonate like the people of this land. You... are anomalies."
"And you—" Kiriya locked eyes with her, "—you’re the architect behind the summoning circle."
For a brief moment, the hand holding Elanor’s teacup stopped, then trembled slightly. A silence hung in the air like a thin wire suspended in tension.
"You also... didn’t just redesign the circle. The core structure itself came from the original summoning used centuries ago. Which would mean you’re old enou—"
Before the sentence could finish, the room was suddenly enveloped in a thick wave of black mana. The air rumbled, magical pressure pulsing violently through everything around it. Wendy clutched her chest, choking under the unseen spiritual weight, while a flower vase near the window shook violently and cracked.
Kiriya held against the pressure with all his might. His breathing was heavy, sweat trailing down his temple, but his eyes remained locked in focus. "Y-yeah... I’m sorry. I know... age is a sensitive topic for women."
The black aura receded, slowly unraveling like a whirlpool calming down. Silence returned. Elanor let out a slow breath, then turned her gentle gaze to Wendy.
"Forgive me, Wendy. I should’ve restrained myself."
"U-uhk... I-it’s okay..." Wendy was still gasping for air, but her glare turned sharply toward Kiriya, full of protest. "You’re such an idiot."
Kiriya raised both hands with a stiff laugh. "Yeah, yeah. That one’s on me. I deserve it."
Elanor sat down again with elegance, though this time her posture was more open. "Yes... you’re right. I’ve lived a long time. And because of that, I’ve grown weary of rulers, greedy nobles, and worshippers of power. I just want a quiet life. But as for this most recent hero summoning... I truly had no idea. I was furious when I found out they summoned over twenty people in a single ritual."
"Even though the original design only supported one or two individuals—every hundred years." Kiriya nodded. "So it really wasn’t your fault."
Elanor’s expression softened. "I see... And you’ve traced me this far?"
"Yes. I infiltrated the royal archives, stole access to the restricted magic library, and tracked your movements after you were last seen near the eastern outskirts of the capital. From there, I built an opinion network, masked my trail, and eventually arrived here."
Elanor stared at him for a long moment, then offered a faint smile. "You’re far more dangerous than I expected, Mister Asano."
"Information management is my specialty," Kiriya said calmly, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Thank Ren for that. He’s the one who dragged me into all of this." A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips—born more from exhaustion than pride. "Being an operator for someone like him... has given me more unexpected experiences than I ever imagined."
Elanor sipped her tea slowly, then nodded. "And... the real reason for your visit? Are you here to talk about the return magic?"
"Yes, if possible," Kiriya replied, for the first time sounding hopeful.
But Elanor’s answer was just one short, sharp, piercing sentence: "That’s not possible."
"Hah!?" Kiriya’s eyes widened, his voice bouncing off the walls of the parlor. "Not possible?"
Elanor didn’t flinch. She simply set her cup back on its saucer, but her face was grave. "Listen... Summoning magic isn’t as simple as an incantation or a circle. Its core mechanism involves dimensional manipulation. We—the architects—create a kind of metaphysical hook that pierces dimensional boundaries. But that piercing can only happen with the permission... of the gods."
Kiriya fell silent. Elanor continued, her voice heavy yet honest.
"The circle is merely a tool. Like a fishing rod in the open sea. We cast a hook into another dimension, and if the gods allow it, one of the ’fish’ there gets caught. But that’s all. The gods don’t choose, don’t point fingers, and don’t intervene directly."
Kiriya’s expression tensed. "Hold on... then what about the voice of the god we heard during the summoning? In our classroom, when everything started shaking—we all heard a clear voice, like... a proclamation."
Elanor straightened. For the first time since the conversation began, real shock marked her elegant face. Her eyes widened, pupils narrowing as if she were reassembling a lifetime’s worth of logic.
"A voice... of a god?" she whispered, almost like a prayer. "You heard it directly?"
Kiriya nodded slowly. "Yes. Not just me... everyone in our class heard it. It was clear. Commanding. It introduced itself explicitly as a god."
Elanor slowly rose from her seat. Her steps wavered slightly, as though the weight of centuries had suddenly pressed down on her back. She walked toward the dew-frosted grand window. Beyond the glass, rain began to fall like whispers from the sky, bearing witness to their conversation. Her fingers clenched at the sides of her luxurious gown, creating subtle creases in the fabric.
"That shouldn’t be possible," she finally said. Her voice was low, but laced with pressure. "I... I designed the circle only to pierce dimensions. To pull someone from another world, with permission. But never... never has there been a voice. Never... direct intervention."
Kiriya stared at her intently. "So... you truly didn’t know?"
Elanor turned, and for a moment, Kiriya saw genuine fear in her eyes. "No. Even during the first summoning, centuries ago... there was no voice. The process was structural. Mechanical. There was no conversation. No proclamation. It was purely procedural."
The silence thickened further in the room. Only the sound of rain beyond the window filled the heavy space between their breaths.
Then Kiriya, his face twisted and fists clenched, muttered, "Damn... I know this kind of story." He stood up, pacing in a small circle. "This is way bigger than I thought. Far deeper."
"What do you mean, Kiriya?" Wendy finally asked, frozen in her seat. Her face was pale, her gaze flicking between the two people in front of her who now seemed like characters from a living legend. "I... I don’t understand anything you’re saying. Is this... really involving the gods?"
Kiriya stopped walking. He looked at Wendy—and from the tone of his voice, it was as if he was revealing a dark truth no one should ever want to hear.
"The gods... are playing dice."
The words flowed from his lips, but the impact struck the air like a thunderclap. Wendy fell silent. Elanor held her breath. Time itself seemed to halt.
They all knew—if what Kiriya said was true... then this world wasn’t merely a chessboard.
It was a game. And they were just pieces.
"That’s... ridiculous," Wendy finally said, trying to inject some logic into an atmosphere far too heavy for someone who used to be a mere silver-ranked adventurer. "Are you seriously saying the gods would toy with us like that?"
Kiriya slowly turned toward her. There was no anger or condescension in his voice—only a cold calmness, and a weariness he couldn’t hide.
"Yeah, it sounds ridiculous. If we said it in the streets, people would call us insane. But... think about it," he said, his tone deepening. "We were summoned to this world, supposedly to fight a Demon King. But... no Demon has appeared. Not one of us has seen him. And isn’t he only supposed to appear if the Hell Gate opens? So the real question is: when did that happen? And who has the power to open it?"
He walked slowly, then stood near the window, staring at the rain’s reflection like searching for answers beyond the fog.
"We’re being set up like pawns. I... overheard conversations between nobles before I left the palace. They spoke of ’using the heroes’ as military assets. Planning attacks on other kingdoms... under the banner of ’divine will.’ Don’t you see how strange that is? Religion, power, and politics... always go hand in hand. This isn’t about a heroic calling anymore. This... is a conspiracy."
Wendy opened her mouth, then closed it again. She had no answer. No logical foundation to argue from.
"Wendy," Kiriya said quietly. "I’m not asking you to believe all of this. I don’t expect you to understand. But if you want to survive, forget everything you heard today."
Then Elanor let out a soft, trembling laugh. "Yes... Mister Asano is right. I... haven’t felt this chill run through me in over a hundred years."