"No... I mean, really, you’re not?"

"...I’ve already denied it several times, haven’t I?"

"Really?"

"To begin with, I’ve never exchanged a single word with any Divine blood that belongs to Star Root."

"..."

At Alon’s words, the Sculptor was flustered.

Because of what the Star Eater had just said.

'...The Star Eater isn’t the master of Star Root?'

Of course, it could not blindly believe everything the Star Eater standing before it claimed.

The Star Eater was famous.

But that did not mean the Sculptor knew the Star Eater well.

At present, the Star Eater was only famous because the four Divine blood closest to ascending to godhood [N O V E L I G H T] had all mentioned the Star Eater one way or another. Other than that, the Star Eater remained wrapped in a veil.

In other words, since it did not know what kind of Divine blood the Star Eater was, it could neither trust his words easily nor judge them easily.

And yet, even so, there were two reasons the thought Does he really not know? kept rising in the Sculptor’s mind.

One was that the Star Eater had absolutely nothing to gain by telling a lie like that to the Sculptor.

To begin with, if there was no benefit to be gained through a lie—or if it was a lie that would obviously be exposed before long—there was no reason to tell it.

And above all, the second reason—

'...It really... doesn’t seem like it...'

—was because of the things he had actually said.

No matter how much he might want to hide that he was the leader of the Star Eater, was there really any need for him to call the group he himself led a "trash group" or "sinister bastards"?

So for a while, the Sculptor sat there with its mind lightly shut down, a head full of question marks.

'...Let’s just leave it at that for now.'

It decided to stop thinking about it.

...There were one or two things making that hard to do, but in the first place, the reason the Sculptor had come to meet the Star Eater was not because of that.

So—

"...Alright. I’ll take it that way for now."

Temporarily wrapping up that line of conversation, the Sculptor immediately got to the point.

"I’ll be direct. I want you to participate in the subjugation of Astarotte."

"If it’s Astarotte, then those Divine blood in the black armor..."

"That’s right. Those bastards exactly."

At the Sculptor’s words, Alon thought for a moment, then requested,

"I’ll need more explanation."

"About what part?"

"The whole thing."

At that, the Sculptor thought it over.

"...So it looks like you still don’t have proper information."

"?"

"It doesn’t matter if you don’t. In the first place, that’s exactly why I came to explain it."

Then it looked at Alon and asked,

"First— you know about fragments, don’t you?"

"I do."

"And what kind of effect those fragments have?"

"I know that too."

"Then this will be easier."

The Sculptor continued.

"As you know, fragments of high-ranking Divine blood have been scattered at this point in time. I don’t know exactly why or through what process that happened, but the issue is that those fragments are the starting point of the problem."

"I heard that because of those fragments, a great many battles broke out among Divine blood."

"...If it were only to that extent, I wouldn’t be going around like this. Fighting among Divine blood is natural in the first place. The problem is Astarotte’s leader—the Descender."

"...Leader?"

At Alon’s question, the Sculptor nodded.

"To be honest, Astarotte itself wasn’t all that dangerous. Even if their ideology was dangerous, in the end they were only the first tier. Certainly, in the beginning they had momentum, but that was all. They were just a pack of nobodies."

"But once the fragments were scattered, I suppose the situation changed."

"Exactly. Not just changed—it became somewhat serious. More precisely, it was from the moment Astarotte’s leader absorbed a fragment and reached the next stage."

"...Did it become stronger?"

"Of course it became stronger. The problem is that it can become even stronger from there."

The Sculptor steadied its breathing, then looked at Alon.

"How much do you know about fragments?"

"All I know is that if someone of the first tier absorbs a fragment, that one can reach the second tier."

"That isn’t wrong. But let me tell you one thing you don’t know: fragments are not the kind of thing you can absorb just because you want to."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Simply put, it takes time. No matter how many fragments you possess, you can’t devour all of them at once. The problem is—"

"...It seems Astarotte’s leader, the Descender, can absorb fragments infinitely without restriction."

At Alon’s insight, the Sculptor looked surprised.

"You already knew?"

"No. But I thought that was the only thing this conversation could be leading to."

"...That’s right. Just as you said, that bastard became able to absorb fragments the moment it rose to the next stage. And without limit."

At the Sculptor’s words, Alon was able to grasp the current situation in broad terms.

"In other words, if the Descender is allowed to keep absorbing fragments, the situation will only keep getting worse."

"The situation is already bad. If that bastard absorbs more fragments in this state, it’ll become impossible to stop it."

"...So then, Divine blood are forming an alliance among themselves to strike Astarotte?"

"That’s right. If it grows any further, that bastard might truly become the 'winner.' That’s why I came to find you."

"..."

"...Though of course, this is a little different from what I expected. Even if you’re not a group, if you’re the Star Eater, you’ll still be useful."

There had to be a reason you were famous, the Sculptor muttered.

After a short silence, Alon asked,

"...Just in case, couldn’t we get stabbed in the back like this?"

"Don’t worry about that. If everyone gathers, they’ll all place a Divine blood oath on it. There won’t be any betrayal."

They, more than anyone, would know just how idiotic it would be to strike from behind right now.

"Where do I need to go?"

After thinking for a moment, Alon made up his mind.

"You’ve made the right choice."

The Sculptor broke into a broad smile.

After meeting the Sculptor, Alon returned to the carriage.

"They seem a little similar to humans."

At Penia’s words, Alon turned his gaze.

"You mean Divine blood?"

"Yes."

"In what way?"

"...In the way they’re trying to drag one person down no matter what? Ah, not that I think that’s wrong. It’s just... I don’t know, it suddenly made me think they really are human after all."

Alon rubbed his chin.

He had definitely felt something like that himself.

Divine blood were strong.

And they did not even regard humans as life.

That was no different whether the Divine blood in question was friendly toward Alon or hostile toward him.

And yet, even so, Divine blood clearly had aspects similar to humans.

"Isn’t it just because, in the end, they all started as humans?"

At that, Evan added his own opinion.

"What?"

"Didn’t you say so before, Alon? That Divine blood were all beings who had once been human."

"If I didn’t know that, do you think I would’ve said what I just said?"

"It wasn’t that?"

When Evan tilted his head at Penia, she let out a sigh.

"...I guess your powers of inference really are poor because you came from a mercenary background."

"Ah, there you go again, acting smart just because you’re a mage. And I wasn’t a mercenary—I was born a noble, you know?!"

"I don’t think anyone would believe that."

"I’m telling you, it’s true."

"...You really were a noble?"

"Even you too, Alon?! Isn’t that too much??"

Evan cried out as if wronged.

But Alon had not asked out of any intention to tease him. He had simply been genuinely surprised.

To begin with, even in Psychedelia, Evan appeared only as a mercenary. There had never been a single mention that he had once been a fallen noble.

So even Alon knew absolutely nothing about Evan’s origins.

"...I wasn’t trying to mock you. I was simply surprised."

"I really was, you know? I was actually from quite a successful noble family. It’s just that before I was even ten, my entire house..."

Evan got that far, then scratched his head.

"Anyway—! The point is, it was a noble house!"

"Hm— then was the name Evan fake too?"

At Penia’s question, Evan clicked his tongue.

"At this point, this name is the real one. I’ve been using it ever since I started earning my living with a blade."

"Hm..."

At that, Penia glanced at him, then closed her mouth.

Alon, too, did not continue the topic.

Penia had probably asked out of a slight teasing impulse, but the moment Evan answered, it was not hard to infer his past.

The fact that he would not even name his house, and that he had completely thrown away his name as well—

that was the same as saying that his noble family had not met an ordinary downfall.

"Ahem—"

Perhaps thinking he had brought it up for no reason, Evan awkwardly scratched his head.

Watching him for a moment, Alon then turned his gaze toward Seollang.

Still pressed close at his side, Seollang looked out the window with her tail swishing lightly.

Looking at that, the Sculptor’s earlier words came back to him.

'That must be distracting.'

Those were the words the Sculptor had spoken while looking at Seollang, after telling Alon where Divine blood would gather three months from now.

"..." 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ𝓋𝑒𝑙.𝑐𝘰𝑚

What had that meant?

After saying those words, the Sculptor had vanished without adding anything more.

Seollang too had merely looked puzzled after hearing that.

"Ah, so, Alon."

At Penia’s voice calling him, Alon turned his gaze back.

"What is it?"

"Are you going to leave right away?"

"Hm..."

At her question, Alon nodded.

If the deadline truly was three months, as the Sculptor said, then Alon did not have much time left.

"I’ll make preparations for a few days, then leave at once."

"Master! I’m going too!"

The moment Alon answered, Seollang immediately turned and shouted.

"...You too?"

"Yes!"

"...Will that be alright?"

"It’ll be fine! Now that the bandits are gone, it’ll be okay!"

Seollang answered with a smile.

After confirming that her tail was still swishing, Alon—

"Alright."

—eventually nodded.

The reason the Spit-Forth Arm had come to meet the Burning Trees was, in the end, because of a rumor it had recently heard.

A rumor that the group called Star Cluster was growing at a tremendous speed.

As far as the Spit-Forth Arm knew, Divine blood groups could not grow that large, except for groups that had already been established and a few unusual ones.

That was only natural.

Most Divine blood already belonged to factions that had long since formed.

Of course, first-tier Divine blood moved between factions somewhat more freely than Divine blood of the higher stages, but even that was still movement between factions. Divine blood did not leave the faction system altogether.

And yet Star Cluster was swelling recklessly, with Divine blood breaking the conventions that had held until now.

On top of that, the Spit-Forth Arm had a rough idea why the Burning Trees had formed a faction, so it assumed it would not be treated with hostility even if it came here. Out of curiosity, it went to find Star Root.

And that was how it was able to meet it.

[It’s been a while.]

[Yes, it has been a while. It has been a while, but...]

It was able to meet it...

[...What is that?]

[Ah, there’s no need to pay it any mind.]

The Spit-Forth Arm looked past the Burning Trees.

There were two Divine blood there.

More precisely—

[S-stop— kyaaagh-!]

[W-we’ll never come again! We won’t target the Star Eater anymore! Ack-!]

—Divine blood that were getting beaten by other Divine blood.

[They’re in the middle of correction.]

[...Correction?]

[Yes.]

At the Burning Trees’ reply, the Spit-Forth Arm’s lone pupil trembled slightly.