She possessed a head of crimson hair, as red as fresh blood.
A pitch-black Gothic dress wrapped around her graceful figure, with cutouts at the waist and chest filled with a base layer of black bodysuit.
Silver-white armor covered both of her arms.
Ruffled garters adorned her legs, and a few seemingly casual wraps tightened around her plump thighs. Below them were a pair of black lace-up high-heeled boots.
Her pale face, almost unhealthy in its pallor, was set with exotically beautiful features. Her eyes, the same color as her hair, darted restlessly around, like a tourist wandering through a scenic spot.
The only flaw was the thick black cloud beneath her lower eyelids—whether from lack of sleep or exhaustion, it was hard to tell.
There sure had been a lot of beautiful women appearing around here lately.
Loki joked to himself silently but remained utterly vigilant.
Although the woman’s face bore a seemingly gentle smile, any stranger appearing here, regardless of affiliation, was likely to be classified as an “enemy.”
It reminded him of Christine.
Loki slipped his hand into his pocket.
“Hmm, you.”
The woman waved at Loki.
Her movements were elegant and unhurried, making Loki wonder if everything he had just experienced was an illusion—that perhaps he had all along been sitting at a noblewoman’s afternoon tea party, chatting over cake and red tea.
“Don’t keep such a tense face. I’m neither a mindless beast nor one of those mutated lunatics—won’t bite you on a whim.”
She raised both hands to show she had no hostile intent toward Loki.
“I came to pick up a witch named Reese. Have you seen her? Wearing a large hat, a long robe… that kind of look.”
Her voice was sweet and gentle, more mature than Selene’s, entirely free of youthful innocence.
Like an office lady just finishing overtime.
“No.”
Loki answered.
“Huh? We had an appointment. Don’t tell me you killed her?”
She lightly rubbed her nose, letting out a hissing breath as if trying to smell a corpse.
Another dog-born?
“Oh, looks like not. Sorry, my mistake.”
“When I came in, this place was empty. Not even a shadow of a person, let alone a witch.”
“Hmm, that’s a problem. If I can’t pick her up as scheduled, the entire reward will be deducted… My employer’s pretty stingy.”
She looked at Loki.
“Though this may sound abrupt, could you substitute for the witch so I can report back to my employer? Turning a handsome man into a beautiful woman isn’t hard—just a bit of makeup.”
“What kind of nonsense are you talking? Although I admit, I’m good-looking.”
Loki felt he was about to lose it.
This woman didn’t seem suspicious—probably some kind of mercenary. The only person worth noting was her employer.
But if she came specifically for that witch…
Loki instantly realized what Reese had done.
The Hand of Truth’s schemes weren’t limited to Caesania… this fit perfectly with the ways of those who followed the Great Lord of Fate.
“Is it… not okay?”
Her crimson eyes glistened slightly, flickering like candlelight in the breeze.
If circumstances were different, Loki might not have refused such a beautiful lady.
“No.”
Loki decisively refused.
“Don’t treat your employer like an idiot. Can’t you tell if they’re male or female?”
This woman’s so-called “employer” wasn’t after Reese herself, but the ritual documents she had copied.
Loki truly sensed how murky this whole Caesania mess was.
…
Hah, that Reese was clever—she’d played the Hand of Truth and this woman’s employer hard. She probably planned to take all the credit from the start.
Even their arrival gave her the perfect opportunity to “kill two birds with one stone.” Her mind worked fast.
Loki wasn’t afraid of straightforward enemies like Solis; he feared slippery ones like this woman—those who would run marathons rather than confront directly.
This wasn’t some backyard; it was an enormous world, maddeningly vast.
The red-haired woman pitifully spread out her hands at Loki.
“So what about my payment? My employer already paid a deposit. I can’t just go back empty-handed… At least I should bring something back, right?”
“…Take it back.”
Loki pointed at some papers discarded on the ground, probably abandoned due to failed rubbings.
“Or you can take these.”
“What use are these weird papers? And they’re covered in unclean things.”
The woman looked confused.
…Damn, she seemed tricked into this.
A pang of sympathy arose in Loki’s heart.
“By the way, don’t touch them recklessly. Even the slightest contact will ruin them… You didn’t just pick them up and look, did you? Here, let me see.”
She forcibly pulled Loki’s hand over and began scrutinizing it carefully, examining every line and fold multiple times.
Loki wanted to pull away, but her grip was like a vise, giving him no chance.
Honestly, her hand was soft and cold, like a water pillow in summer—her touch gentle and careful, like a tender mother.
Her gaze was full of herself.
What was going on?
Loki felt confused.
He decided to observe quietly.
…
No, he should hurry back to help Ina.
“Phew… Looks like you’re not reckless.”
The woman showed a relieved expression and released Loki’s hand, as if pleased her child had finally learned not to pick things off the ground.
“That’s good. By the way, just in case, here—take this first. It’s not very effective, but at least it can remind you what you should and shouldn’t touch.”
She pulled a Holy Church crucifix from her pocket and pressed it into Loki’s hand, gently wrapping his palm and softly patting it.
…Whoah, a little gift, huh?
Loki felt the crucifix writhing in his hand like a crushed cockroach.
It was obvious this thing hated soulless and nonbelievers—reminding Loki of the chaos he always caused whenever he entered a church.
“The ground’s full of filth, it’s too dangerous… Later, hold my hand tight and I’ll take you out.”
She looked earnest.
She gave off the vibe that whatever he asked, she would agree.
“Oh, uh…”
Loki replied absentmindedly.
Wait, what?
She didn’t look much older, so why treat him like a child?
“But I still have comrades caught by the Desecrators. I have to go help them.”
Loki tried to shake her off with that, but she didn’t budge. Instead, she gripped his wrist tightly.
The sudden move startled Loki.
Normally, he should have put distance between them immediately, but his subconscious told him this woman meant no harm.
Strange.
“Eh? That happened? Then we have to hurry… Hmm, but I still have work… Whatever, lives are at stake! Let’s go!”
She seemed unaware that their lack of personal space was a problem, fretting on her own before finally pumping a fist like cheering herself on.
It was awkward.
Kind of cute… No, wait.
I didn’t say I’m taking you with me.
“By the way, I don’t even know your name.”
She asked.
“Loki.”
“Loki…”
Her expression shifted slightly.
“Hm, Loki… common name, I guess. I’m Elcado—just call me El for short.”
Fine, she didn’t seem very bright. Might as well make use of her.
“…Then let me lead the way, El.”
“Okay—”
But as soon as she spoke, the crucifix in Loki’s hand shattered into pieces.
Both froze, then looked down at the small cuts the sharp shards had left in Loki’s palm.
Blood dripped steadily.
Loki quickly offered an awkward smile.
“Looks like the Holy Church’s products aren’t very high quality…”
“Blood… strange…”
But El was obsessed, staring intently at the blood pooling on the ground.
She lifted her foot and hooked a paper covered in desecration texts onto the small puddle.
In an instant, black flames erupted like a terrifying beast, devouring the paper completely.
“…”
A chill crept up Loki’s spine.
“El?”
“Hehe, heh heh, hehehe…”