It was the process of obtaining the Divine Position.
It was the journey to become a god.
And so, she wished to resurrect Hio.
Yet the path toward the temple was excruciating enough to bring tears to one's eyes.
Perhaps she had cried.
Others had pointed their fingers at her, calling her a sociopath without blood or tears, but had she not clearly proven how wrong those words were?
When her skin split, blood flowed, and at that pain, tears fell as well.
It hurt.
With every step she took, the pain doubled, and she knew instinctively that the moment this step stopped, the pain would cease together with it.
But the reason she could not do so was because of one person who, even now, filled her mind to the brim.
A person she wished to see even while enduring the agony of melting flesh and shattering bones.
It was love.
No matter what anyone said, it was love.
"How does a chilling child like you dare to speak of love?"
Striding toward those pointing fingers, she asked in turn.
"Do you truly know love?"
"Have you ever known a love that hurts like this?"
"How far have you ever truly gone for love?"
"This can't be done, that can't be done." Haven't you always put off love, making petty excuses?
"Have you ever truly placed love before yourself?"
When she asked thus, those who had pointed fingers eventually disappeared, and Airaits was left alone once more, continuing her steps.
Such paltry trials were of no use before Airaits.
For could one truly do anything for love? Airaits was someone who could stand before that question without the slightest falsehood.
But the white temple, buried in snow. From the moment she set foot inside, everything was different. Her body began to melt away.
It was not an illusion.
In truth, her body melted, regenerated, and melted again, repeating endlessly.
Even in such extreme pain, her mind was far too clear.
The agony of each individual cell as it split, shattered, melted, and regenerated was felt distinctly.
So how could she stop the tears that threatened to burst forth?
Yet even in the midst of it all, what slipped out instead of screams of pain was—
"Hio…."
Desperation.
The name of a love desperately longed for.
Her steps did not stop.
A crimson aura wrapped thickly around Airaits's body and swirled, while her flesh endlessly repeated destruction and regeneration.
It was akin to tempering.
They were forcibly bestowing a Divine Position upon her.
A flesh capable of containing the Authority of a god.
A violent miracle that forcibly elevated the rank of the physical body.
In that process, the Divine Position of Love was engraved.
The Authority of Love was engraved.
The beginning of love is the beauty of the flesh.
The pleasure of attraction and ecstatic longing.
The Authority of such beauty was gradually engraved into Airaits's body as it underwent tempering.
Enduring the vivid pain and forcibly continuing her steps, now even her mind was submerged in agony.
They were forcibly elevating the rank of her soul.
Love is a succession of pain.
Love is a repetition of joy.
Love is rage. Resignation.
Love is a momentary flame. An instant.
Love is an eternal snow-capped mountain. Immutable.
Love is obsession, anxiety, and stability. The dissonance born from within it.
Love is life, birth, and ferocity.
The definition of love is, ultimately, chaos.
Whether its end would be heartrending sorrow or peaceful happiness was a future no one could predict.
It was an open ending.
* * *
How much time had passed?
It felt as though hundreds of years had gone by, yet also as if mere minutes had passed.
The world looked different and felt different.
She could feel her own mighty soul and the power of her strong flesh.
Her newly created flesh was soft, pure white, and clearer than anything else.
Her forcibly elevated pink soul was so intense that it seemed it would not permit the slightest taint, but….
"……."
Her pretty crimson eyes looked somehow clouded.
"……Hio?"
The Divine Position of Love, which should have been completed in harmony, and its Authority, had been completed with slight distortion.
It could be called a side effect of having been done by force.
From the start, had it not been Airaits, she would not have been able to endure it.
"…Ah."
What flickered within her eyes was chaos.
Her memories became tangled and jumbled together.
After the momentary chaos subsided, what sprang forth was obsession.
Even within the tangled memories, what was clear was Hio.
And his death.
Following the light of obsession was rage.
"How dare you."
Rage at them having dared to let her god die.
Rage at the incompetent fools.
Rage at the fact that even with her current power, she could not resurrect Hio.
It was the rage of the God of Love who had lost her love.
Rumble—
The temple trembled at Airaits's rage.
Crimson aura enveloped the temple, and the pillars that formed the temple, the snow on the floor, and the ice on the ceiling scattered and gathered again, taking shape.
It was Venus's final arrangement.
The legion of ancient golems sympathized with Airaits's rage and raised their bodies.
The Authority of Love that dominates emotion was manifesting.
"Worthless Imperial dogs."
A world without Hio was a world without love.
To Airaits, whether such a world existed or not was of no concern whatsoever.
"All of you, die."
Crimson rage rose up.
An army of snow and ice surged after her.
Thus she arrived at the Empire.
Thousands of knights were visible in the distance.
At their head stood the golden lion.
Perhaps because he had obtained a Divine Position, his arrogant lion's eyes, that savage power latent within him, could be felt plainly.
An immense presence filled the Empire's ranks.
"Witch."
The lion approached.
The intent contained in his words was so resolute that it lightly pierced through the thickly swirling crimson aura and clearly reached Airaits.
"Why do you head toward this place?"
Of course, it was merely repulsive.
That despite possessing such power, he had failed to protect his own god.
It made her furious.
She felt she would only be satisfied once she wiped away all those useless things.
"For what reason have you descended to the mortal realm?"
Therefore, she smirked and increased her speed even further.
The Empire's golden lion, realizing her intent, likewise increased his speed.
* * *
Sword Saint Vitalianus Mahel.
A superhuman and swordsman of the Eighth Order, said to split mountains with a single blade.
Originally, no matter how great Airaits was, had she faced Vitalianus in earnest, she would have died without withstanding a single exchange.
The opposite was also true.
Airaits, who had obtained a Divine Position and inherited the Authority of the God of Love.
Had Airaits properly perceived her own power and inherited all that strength purely without side effects, then no matter how great Vitalianus was, he would not have been able to overcome her Authority.
Though he was a superhuman who had surpassed human limits, in the end, were his soul and flesh not human?
But Airaits's condition was not normal.
Her memories were still chaos, her emotions obsession and rage, and she was in a state where she could not properly perceive her own Authority.
Vitalianus's sword could not reach Airaits.
Airaits's Authority could not dominate Vitalianus.
The golden aura roared as it thrust forward, but Airaits was not in that spot.
Instead, the bodies of dozens of ice golems were pierced through in a straight line in her place.
Vitalianus swung his sword horizontally immediately, as though he needed no confirmation, but….
"……!"
The crimson Authority had already enveloped his body.
His emotions churned.
All manner of emotions he had thought dead rushed in like a tidal wave.
The Authority of Love that embraces all emotions.
A terrible feeling of his very heart being forcibly manipulated.
But it was not complete.
There were gaps.
"…How dare you."
He was a hero.
A warrior who always stood at the very front, never wavering when it mattered.
A knight who stood firm and became a paragon for all.
"You dare try to manipulate my heart?"
Even within the raging torrent of emotions, the steadfast golden lion roared.
At that, the torrent subsided, and in his calmed heart, golden aura surged forth once more.
Kwaaaaang—!
Dozens of golems that had reached right before him exploded, shattering apart.
The lion roared within that explosion.
Though he had burst forth with such explosive force, that brief moment of hesitation caused by being seized by the Authority had made the battle terribly disadvantageous.
Kwaaaang—!
Every direction was already filled with ice golems.
He had been swept up in a crimson domain.
Perhaps because of that, he had lost the witch's trace.
'…I lost her position?'
How long had it been since he had lost his opponent's trace while in a state of complete concentration?
What lurked in all directions were ice golems chilling to the bone, and no support could be expected.
If even his own mind was shaken this much, how much worse would it be for the other knights?
Setting foot here would only mean a dog's death.
Kwaaang—!
And so he simply advanced.
The answer was always in the sword.
He had no choice but to trust the blade, trust himself, and cut, and cut again.
—Vitalianus Mahel.
The witch's voice echoed from all directions.
A dreamy reverberation.
—The Empire's old lion.
Sadness began to fill the voice.
It became thorns that stabbed into his heart.
Even Vitalianus's heart grew melancholy along with it.
—What in the world have you been doing?
Kwaaaang!
Even so, he swung his sword.
Even though he knew not where she was.
Though the emotion of sorrow was forcibly swirling, he did not stop his sword.
Behind him was the Empire, and upon both shoulders he bore the future.
He was someone who must never collapse.
—Why in the world are you alive?
Rage shook his heart like a thunderbolt.
He wanted to give himself over to this emotion, rage with all his might, and sympathize with the witch.
But the more he did so….
Thud—
He put more strength into his stepping foot.
Gripping the sword hilt tightly, he advanced silently.
He cut down golems, cut and cut again.
Golems from the mythical era that would not die no matter how much he cut?
Those were not words to be uttered before the great Sword Saint.
Wherever the blade passed, the golden lion appeared without fail, tearing the golems to shreds.
Kwaaaang—!
Because explosion sounds resembling roars burst out without fail.
An opportunity would come.
If he cut them down one by one, an end would surely come.
—No, why does this world exist?
Suddenly, severe nihility hollowed out his heart.
It was loss.
The emptiness of loss was so sorrowful that he wanted to throw down his sword and sit right there.
The reason he did not was simple.
Because he was a hero.
Because he had decided to live as a hero and leave without shame.
And because he had promised to tell the hero's tale.
No matter what emotion seized body and mind, that conviction alone did not waver in the slightest.
That was why he could advance.
Even if manipulated by the witch's emotions, his own essence could remain firm.
It was the reason he could stand facing the witch at last, after advancing step by step.
"…So, 'why does the world exist.'"
The witch's sad crimson eyes turned toward Vitalianus.
"That is far too bitter a question."
Eyes of sorrow, loss, and rage.
A chaotic crimson in which all else was mixed.
The brilliant sword was slowly raised.
Its tip aimed at the witch and thrust in the blink of an eye.
Golden aura surged forth, and within it, the golden lion opened its jaws wide.
Ruthlessly tearing through the obstructing crimson.
It extended unstoppably.
—Bring him back to life.
The golden lion ruthlessly bit into the witch's neck.