“Why do you refuse the oracle?”
Dahachie was irritated.
Ever since he had received the oracle, he had been in a constant state of irritation.
Behind the mask of a smile that he had to wear as a founder, he had been enduring.
Along the way, he killed several people to distract himself from his irritation, and after stepping into the uninhabited holy mountain of Zahan, he ended up killing one of the cult members who had accompanied him.
And yet.
“You have been chosen, you know?”
The man standing before him, once feared and called the “Grim Reaper of Ashgo” as an assassin, would not nod in agreement.
Despite being granted the role of a guide by the revered god, he refuses to accept it.
He refuses to become the guide.
Dahachie, who would have taken the role if he could, said,
“I’ll say it once more. Come with us, ‘The Purple Dual Rings.’ Together, let us welcome the Miko of Slaughter and dedicate all life in this world to our revered god!”
“I refuse.”
The man repeated his curt response.
Since meeting Dahachie, this had been the only word he had uttered.
(I don’t like it… Not one bit… Everything about it!!)
Dahachie narrowed his eyes and, while forcing a smile, gnashed his teeth skillfully.
* * *
The revered god, the Death God Alogoros.
It was 30 years ago when Dahachie first received an oracle from his god.
At that time, already renowned as a first-class assassin, he was, however, exhausted.
Killing and being at risk of being killed himself, it was a back-alley profession with no certainty for the morrow.
He had convinced himself that he had never possessed a proper sense of morality to begin with, but even as a mere human, his spirit, exposed to the harshness of his days, had reached its limit.
It was then.
He received the oracle from the death god.
<<<My name is the Death God Alogoros. Kill the alchemist Sorenak, Inareda.>>>
…Though it claimed to be from a god, in blunt terms, the directive it provided was nothing more than an assassination order.
However, Dahachie, upon hearing the words that suddenly echoed in his mind, was invigorated!
(A divine yet ominous presence! Is this the aura of a god!? Could it be… that gods actually exist!!)
Completely taken by the divine aura, he sprang out of bed in his nightclothes, dashed out of his lodging, and by that very night, made his way to the neighboring town of Sorenak to decapitate and kill the alchemist Inareda, who resided there.
<<<Well done.>>>
The moment he killed Inareda, the words of the god that resonated in his head were very straightforward.
Yet, those words were more valuable to Dahachie than any gemstone he had ever received as payment.
(God has recognized me… me!)
Having spent a troubled childhood in the slums and then delving into the underworld, he had always been a nuisance to society.
And now, a god, a being far greater than humans, the revered god, the Death God Alogoros, had recognized him as worthy of receiving an oracle!
(I have become an apostle of Lord Alogoros!!)
From that day, Dahachie changed!
Once a man who gloomily walked through life, scattering envy and hatred as he killed, he now killed with his chest puffed out, a smile never leaving his face, and a dignified demeanor!
And while carrying out several assassination orders named as oracles from time to time, he praised Alogoros and dedicated his soul to his god, organizing and energetically continuing the activities of a cult aimed at that purpose, “The Purple Dual Rings.”
He believed that he was indeed the first disciple of the Death God Alogoros, and thought that he contributed to the Death God more than anyone else in this world.
…And as time passed, the oracle that came down was concerning the so-called “Miko of Slaughter.”
The oracles of the death god were always straightforward, such as “Kill so-and-so” or “Do not expand the organization too much,” but this oracle was different.
“My miko, the Miko of Slaughter, shall descend. The daughter with white hair, the youngest daughter of Tóveil.”
Upon receiving this abruptly delivered oracle, Dahachie was so surprised that he froze.
The amount of information was overwhelming.
This oracle must be something special.
It is unclear what the Miko of Slaughter means to the Death God Alogoros, but the oracle even referred to her as “My miko.”
It was not something that could be taken lightly.
And then, the phrase “The daughter with white hair, the youngest daughter of Tóveil.”
Being the founder of “The Purple Dual Rings” and still a first-class assassin, Dahachie naturally had memorized the faces and names of the nobles from neighboring countries, including their affiliations, and quickly realized that the Miko of Slaughter was the third daughter of the Count Tóveil family of the Démès country, Shula Tóveil, aged six.
(It seems we must promptly welcome Lady Shula.)
In truth, Dahachie had thought the same as the other members of the cult regarding this oracle.
Probably, the Miko of Slaughter is a special existence to the Death God Alogoros.
And since she is called the Miko of Slaughter, like him as an apostle, she must kill many to dedicate her soul to the Death God Alogoros.
However, he had never heard any rumors that Shula Tóveil was a child blessed with the talent for combat.
Although recognized by the Miko of Slaughter and the Death God, her powers have yet to blossom, and the current Shula is no different from a mere child.
That’s precisely why she needs someone to protect, teach, and guide her.
Someone is needed to teach her how to kill, the joy of it, and the wonderfulness of dedicating one’s soul, to nurture her into a splendid Miko of Slaughter.
(And who better to do that than Dahachie, the first disciple of Lord Death God Alogoros and the founder of “The Purple Dual Rings!”)
Dahachie thought so.
So far, he had been blessed with oracles and killed many people, but in hindsight, it could be said he was merely serving as a minion for the Death God Alogoros.
No, he had no complaints about that itself.
However, teaching and guiding the goddess’s cherished miko is a mission of utmost importance, distinct from the divine commands thus far.
(My efforts have been recognized, and the god has entrusted me with an important divine command… This must mean my rank as an apostle has risen; it’s safe to assume so!)
Dahachie thought, his face flushing with excitement.
However, whether Dahachie knew it or not, the oracle that continued to descend completely blew away his excitement.
<<<The guide for the miko is not among you. It is the ‘Grim Reaper of Ashgo’ who resides amongst the peaks of Zahan. You must bring together the miko and the guide. That is the divine command given to you.>>>
…He is not the guide.
The divine command is to bring together the miko and the guide.
In the end, he remains but a servant.
Dahachie was disheartened.
However, an oracle is an oracle, and a divine command is a divine command.
In the first place, it is presumptuous for someone like him to harbor dissatisfaction towards the will of the god.
Dahachie suppressed his own heart, hid his emotions with a smile, and set off for Zahan to fulfill the divine command.
* * *
And yet.
And yet, and yet, and yet!
The man before him disregards the revered god’s oracle!
Being appointed as the guide is an honor beyond compare, yet he does not understand!!
Dahachie was irritated.
He had been irritated ever since he received the oracle.
And now, his irritation had reached its peak.
The killing intent carried by 【Intimidation】 rises, and in response, the 【Intimidation】 emitted by the “Grim Reaper of Ashgo” also becomes stronger.
Though they stand without weapons, in a posture as if they were having a casual conversation… if a mouse were to be thrown between them now, it would die of shock from the intense killing intent.
The sounds of insects and birds that had been noisily chirping around them until now had completely ceased, leaving only the occasionally strong wind and the rustling of leaves.
“……Founder.”
The voice of the man who stepped out from the shadow of the trees resonated well in such a tranquil space.
“What is it, Priest Ogad?”
He was a cult member who followed Founder Dahachie, the last one of “The Purple Dual Rings.”
“We have captured a suspicious young girl. What shall we do?”
Ogad had a knife at the neck of a young girl, who seemed out of place in such a remote mountainous location.
Black hair, black eyes, and pale skin.
She was wearing a black jacket that seemed to be made by stitching together wolf pelts.
“…………”
Upon seeing this, the face of the “Grim Reaper of Ashgo,” who had not moved an inch until now, twisted momentarily.
The girl being restrained was named Emi.
She was the beloved disciple of the “Grim Reaper of Ashgo.”