I, Kurumi Tokisaki, Am a Wanderer

If... you were surrounded by a swarm of Kurumi, what would you do?

At the very least, Jibril found herself utterly exasperated. With a heavy sigh, she murmured to herself, Lord Artosh... I'm afraid I can no longer serve you.

Time seemed suspended in an eternity of mere moments. Jibril's amber irises gleamed with a prismatic radiance, a killing intent so tangible it felt as though it had weight.

Her radiant wings of light unfurled in their full splendor as she ascended skyward. This was no retreat; fleeing was likely futile.

As a weapon forged by the God of War, her final act in this life was to ascertain the strength of her adversary for her master.

She was but a single feather of the God of War's wings—a tool to offer Him victory, a spark to ignite endless war.

If her death served to make Him rise from His throne and avenge her, then her purpose would be fulfilled.

A solitary streak of light tore through the crimson-dyed sky like a shooting star, trailing wings woven from resplendent luminescence. Her incomplete, geometric halo floated above her head, fractured but shimmering.

Her entire being surged with a searing tide of exhilaration and dread, the anger on her face seething like molten lava.

The fragmented halo and radiant wings flared brilliantly. In that moment, Jibril rewrote the very fabric of her existence, transforming her being into a vast network of Spirit Circuitry.

She drew an enormous volume of spirits directly from the Source Stream of the Spirit Corridors.

Was it Heaven's Strike?

No. What she held in her hands now was not the familiar dark-purple thunderous spear of annihilation.

——The Flügel were creations of Artosh, the only true God, and their ultimate attack, Heaven's Strike, was infamous among all species.

Though Flügel were unchanging by design, one anomaly arose. If even those "plants" or "compost heaps" among the Elves could produce extraordinary talents capable of altering the logic of creation itself, then why not the Flügel?

If those long-eared weaklings could devise theories to confine the flow of time and space, then surely the Flügel—who had slain dragons and measured the scale of reality—could do far more.

What blasphemy.

Jibril sighed deeply as she finished rewriting the very magic that constituted her being.

Intricate concentric circles painted the firmament.

Her body dissolved into radiant light—pure, unyielding white brilliance that outshone the heavens, transforming the entire sky into a canvas of luminous awe.

Time and space themselves became her cage. Fragile feathers, light as whispers, drifted down from the heavens.

Its name was——"Absolute Strike"!

Among all the Flügel, only Jibril could summon such radiance at the cost of her life.

A technique crafted to kill the White Dragon, it happened to counter Kurumi almost perfectly.

But... countering was all it could do.

Even a level 100 Pikachu could annihilate a level 1 Sandshrew with just a Tackle.

Although... the gap between a fully unleashed Kurumi and Jibril wasn't that vast.

The Absolute Strike, capable of obliterating time and space, descended gently. But Kurumi had no intention of meeting it head-on.

Taking the full brunt of such an attack? She wasn't that interested. If the damage couldn't be prevented in advance, she could simply evade before it struck.

All of her clones seamlessly withdrew into the shadows. The Kurumi bearing the Zafkiel behind her retrieved a golden potion.

The Grace of Divine Protection. Cheap, effective, and a guaranteed 30 seconds of invulnerability.

Its only downside? A somewhat lengthy cooldown. But surely, her opponent's side effects would be far worse.

The world turned white as the overwhelming light consumed all. Feathers radiating greater heat than the sun's surface fell, their beauty mirroring that of a supernova's death.

In the midst of such dazzling brilliance, Kurumi remained utterly calm, even finding the time to snap a picture.

Having delivered this self-destructive final strike, Jibril now hung in the air in her childlike form.

Spirits and light bled from her tiny frame, her altered core barely able to maintain even its youngest form.

"Cheater..." Jibril puffed her round, infantile cheeks in frustration, her childlike face shadowed by faint traces of grievance.

"A monster like you... What is it you're even after?"

Still shimmering with semi-transparency, Kurumi shifted her gaze toward Jibril, lips curling faintly.

"...You're saying some strange things."

"I'm only trying to find my precious little loli."

"Hey, Flügel. If you tell me now where she is, I might just save your life."

——Covenant #4: Any method is acceptable so long as it doesn't violate the rules.

——Covenant #2: Killing anyone is strictly forbidden.

She won't die... Kurumi had already discerned certain anomalies.

The world was a cacophony of static. The searing light licked at her failing body, her consciousness teetering on the brink of collapse.

Muddled words escaped Jibril's lips.

"Who knows where your piece of scrap iron has gone... She was summoned away by someone."

"The head of a Ex-Machina is so rare... How could I pass it up?"

Kurumi fell silent, her crimson eyes narrowing at the Flügel before her.

There was no deceit in her words. Jibril truly had no idea where Schwi had gone.

But... summoned away?

Who would summon Schwi? Who even could?

All Kurumi could do now was hope her precious loli remained unharmed.

At the edge of the world.

The Old Deus known as God of Doubt—Holou—trembled faintly, her eyes shimmering as if veiled in water.

So it truly was... that same machine from that day.

Though countless ages had passed, lifetimes for mortals, the Ex-Machina had merely been updated and replaced repeatedly. To Holou, however, it had all been but a fleeting dream.

Schwi stared dumbfounded at the divine being before her, standing still after receiving her answer.

In normal times, this might not have been an issue. But now!!!

Her own creator had reached out to part her clothing and was pressing her hand directly against her core matrix!

Even if her appearance was childlike, Schwi was still a lady in her own right.

Desperate to restore decorum, she awkwardly coughed. "Um... shouldn't you be removing your hand from my chest by now?"

The divine being, thoroughly flustered, pulled her hand back, her face beet red as she lowered her gaze. The soft rustling of shifting fabric filled the air as Schwi adjusted her clothing.

Having listened to Schwi's heart, the divine being now bore subtle traces of the machine's influence.

"So... why does the mighty creator-god look so different from her database depiction?" Schwi asked as she tidied herself, puffing out her cheeks.

"Hypothesis... Holou does not understand what Schwi is implying."

Schwi's sharp gaze fell upon Holou's chest, her voice tinged with dissatisfaction.

"According to the database, the great deity and I were supposed to be the same... flat, weren't we?"

We were all supposed to be God-tier tablets—why'd you go and cheat?

"Holou's God Core resides in the shifting dimension of 13+iR," Holou explained. "What you see here is merely an avatar created in response to Schwi's... wish."

"My... wish?" Schwi froze, then hastily waved her hands in denial.

"Not at all! It's just that... um... Onee-sama likes this, that's all..."

Her voice trailed off into an almost inaudible murmur.

"Oh, by the way, Holou... Could you send me back?" Schwi asked hurriedly.

"Onee-sama must be worried sick."

...

It was already foreseen… the conclusion of a war that would last for countless ages.

The strongest and the invincible. Jibril suddenly laughed.

The weakest? The invincible weakest, you say?

Hovering mid-air in her childlike form, Jibril's limbs had completely lost all sensation, and a stabbing pain echoed from her chest—a strange, lonely ache.

"Hey… can you tell me, just who are you?" Jibril asked with a faint smile.

"Don't let appearances fool you~ Among the Flügel, I'm an incredibly 'humble' and 'reasonable' individual, you know~?"

The world around her grew darker, descending bit by bit into shadow. Jibril understood that this was the sign—the core of her divine domain was on the verge of collapse.

As a mere fragment of the God of War's wing, she was prepared to send this final answer back to Avant Heim, to the throne room itself.

In her blurring vision, the golden clock ticked lightly, announcing unequivocally that her opponent was a being capable of perceiving the scale of time.

It was almost as though this one was born to be the nemesis of the Flügel.

Jibril's breath came faint and shallow.

A final answer brushed against her ears—a soft, sultry voice that seemed to elude her comprehension.

"Yaya... Kurumi Tokisaki."

"Just a traveler, that's all."

——Ah, if only I could still speak, she thought. I would surely exclaim in awe and do everything in my power to claim such a beautiful head as a trophy.

"Kurumi… Tokisaki, huh?" A ringing echoed through her head. Her body felt as though it would disintegrate in the wind. Her limbs dangled loosely as her eyelids fell shut.

"Ehh—aaaahhhh?! JIBRIL-CHAAAAN! JIBRIL-CHANNNN!!!"

Jibril's body was suddenly yanked into a tight embrace. The piercing, obnoxiously loud voice shattered the hazy void of her mind.

Like a fleeting burst of energy, Jibril's eyes snapped open wide. Her scattered pupils refocused as she sank her teeth furiously into the soft, delicate face that had pressed against hers.

"You...you irritating...nuisance!"

"Nyahaha~ Jibril-chan's passionate kiss~ So blissful, nya!"

The emerald-haired figure with a daft grin was Azril, who giggled foolishly until a realization struck her.

"Wait, no, Jibril-chan's about to die! Deploying all repair protocols immediately!"

"Flügel! Full! Scale! Order! Assemble here, now! Right this instant!"

Always so willful, so absurdly ridiculous.

As Jibril heard that familiar, grating voice, she finally lost consciousness.

While Kurumi had been conversing with that "Flügel child," a green-haired airhead had appeared.

Practically wearing a sign that read, "I'm a complete idiot," this newcomer instantly set off Kurumi's instincts—a suffocating sense of danger.

She was stronger than Jibril. Far more refined.

Shouting into the heavens, she called for all the Flügel to gather.

And with that foolish-sounding rallying cry… the impossible became reality.

Kurumi could feel it with perfect clarity. Ripples spread through the surrounding space as countless pairs of piercing, sword-like blue eyes gazed from beyond the distant continent.

The pure silence was like the treasury of Gilgamesh opening its gates—a myriad of spatial distortions rippled through the atmosphere, obscuring the murky skies.

From the ashen clouds, countless flickering lights began to appear.

Thousands upon thousands... perhaps more. The Flügel had descended en masse.

What a headache. Kurumi sighed softly, tightening her grip on her flintlock pistol as the dull gray lines beneath her feet stretched outward.

Another swarm tactic.

The last group to pull this nonsense on her had already been sent back to Osiris.

"Azril..."

The voice that spoke was calm, yet carried an undeniable weight. Its owner descended gracefully into the center of the battlefield—a strikingly beautiful girl with tattered wings and fractured magic circuits.

The jagged remnants of her blazing wings didn't detract from her presence. If anything, they only heightened the reverence all the other Flügel held for her.

"You do realize, if your antics make us miss the distribution meeting, you'll be paying the price for that, right?"

She was Raphael, the fourth fragment of the God of Wars severed wings.

"Eh? Eh?! Raphael, how could you say that!"

Azril wore a pitifully tearful expression, whining and wailing like a child. "Jibril-chan is so badly injured! What's wrong with calling everyone here?"

Raphael cast a solemn glance at the wounded Jibril cradled in Azril's arms before fixing her eyes on Kurumi.

Still sniffling, Azril continued like a tantruming child.

"Besides, as the leader of the Flügel, it's totally fine for me to summon everyone! Isn't it?!"

The assembled Flügel gave her looks of disdain that carried... varying degrees of meaning.

Raphael narrowed her eyes, smiling faintly.

"Mhm, of course, there's no issue at all."

"However... whether your beloved treasures remain intact afterward? That, I can't guarantee."

Raphael's gaze locked firmly onto Kurumi. Jibril's final words still lingered in the halls of the throne room.

"Kurumi Tokisaki, is it?" Her partially closed eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.

"Ara~" Kurumi spread her arms wide, a teasing smile on her lips as the gray lines beneath her feet reached their zenith. "If you don't have anything to say, I suggest not getting in my way."

"Oh, I definitely have something to say." Raphael's voice lowered to a hum as she ascended into the air.

"All Flügel... attack."

Glowing, rune-etched swords materialized in her hands. Despite her broken wing, Raphael's authority commanded immediate obedience from the Flügel.

With synchronized precision, they ascended skyward, each gripping luminous blades.

It seemed that, compared to their supposed leader Azril, they preferred following Raphael. Even if... Raphael wasn't particularly strong.

The air began to quake, a rumble like distant thunder reverberating through the atmosphere.

Brilliant lights descended from the heavens, covering the four thousand eight hundred meters in an instant.

A single squad of Flügel could fell a Gigant. Two hundred could slay a Dragonia. With the full might of their god-slaying arsenal unleashed, they were a force capable of challenging the Old Deus.

Even space itself began to fracture.

Kurumi prepared to retreat into her shadowy City of Devouring Time to weather the storm.

But then, a soft, dazed voice echoed from right before her.

"Jump... complete. Schwi, is this... the right place?"

Shimmering, a childlike figure appeared before Kurumi, accompanied by Schwi.

Dazed, with her luminous, layered irises, Holou gazed at Kurumi as if entirely unaware of the radiant strike about to descend overhead.

"Onee-sama!" Schwi launched herself into Kurumi's arms.

And only then did she notice.

"Eh... Onee-sama, you can fly now?"

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