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"I want to be as strong as my brother!!"
"As strong as brother!"
"Just as strong!"
"Strong!"
The resolute declaration echoed through the Well of Stellan, its waves of sound slapping against the faces of everyone present like a physical blow, leaving them stunned.
The doll's arm was flung violently into the deep blue water, splashing before disappearing in an instant.
Isolte, Sylphie, Rudeus, and Allen stood frozen, staring at the water's surface, unsure how to react.
The first three couldn't help but think that Allen was far too indulgent with Eris.
Allen himself didn't see it that way. He was dumbfounded. He had already prepared an explanation—another assassination attempt—but the moment Eris spoke, he knew something was off.
And sure enough.
She had pulled another stunt.
Classic Eris.
Allen's lips twitched, but no words came out. He was completely speechless.
Eris glanced at him, taking in his wide-eyed, stunned expression, then turned to look at the severed arm sinking into the well.
With a proud smirk, she lifted her chin and nodded in satisfaction, eyes closed.
Her face practically screamed, "I'm the one doing God a favor by allowing Him to grant my wish."
But when no praise came, she opened her eyes in confusion.
Rudeus, standing beside her, was gaping at her, lips moving soundlessly. Annoyed, Eris snatched the other severed arm from Allen's hand and tossed it at him.
"Isolte and Sylphie don't need to make a wish, so… here, you can have this one."
Rudeus: "????"
"Am I supposed to thank you?"
"No need! It's extra anyway!"
Rudeus' eyes widened further, and he let out an incredulous noise—one Eris often made herself.
"Hah?!"
"Alright, enough messing around," Allen sighed, rubbing his temple. His gaze briefly lingered on the "divine attendants" in Isolte and Sylphie's hands before he scratched his cheek absentmindedly.
Perhaps it was because he had been "observing" Hitogami under the pretext of research, but his mannerisms had started to resemble Roxy's clumsy habits—something Sylphie noticed immediately.
The more one "watches" someone, the more they unconsciously mimic their expressions and movements.
Though Roxy had only shown her flustered side three times in those four observations, each lasting barely a second…
To Allen, those seconds felt eternal.
Long enough to memorize the curve of her lips, the way her blue eyes widened in panic, her clumsy gestures, and the serious expression she wore when deep in thought.
So vivid.
Not just because of his heightened perception and reflexes.
It was also why he had panicked earlier, thinking the Dragon God might be nearby.
If he died before reuniting with Roxy…
That would truly be a tragedy.
"So you all just wanted the 'divine attendants,' not to make a wish. I overthought it. You could've just said so…"
As he spoke, his eyes shifted to the arched gate behind them.
These dolls were almost certainly linked to the Mad Dragon King—likely creations made after leaving Sharia. They were far more advanced than in the original timeline, capable of independently identifying assassination targets.
Wait…
Are they really that intelligent?
He glanced at the motionless doll on the ground. It showed no signs of life, as if truly "dead."
Memories of their struggle replayed in his mind—
Being overpowered.
Resisting weakly.
Suddenly losing strength.
Having his arm torn off.
A complete progression of fear.
They had struggled.
And the assassination attempt itself had a clear purpose. When he first leaned against them, they even held back, unlike the dolls in Old Rudeus' timeline, which merely reacted to environmental changes.
These weren't just pre-programmed "robots."
They were being controlled in real time.
Remote-controlled?
Some kind of magical tool?
Where was the source?
The image of the "friendly" stall owner flashed in his mind.
"If you all want them, then I'll just—"
Before he could finish, he caught the severed arm tossed into his arms.
Rudeus, noticing Allen's gaze on the gate, suddenly spun around and bolted for the exit, waving frantically.
Despite Allen's usual reliability, Rudeus still saw himself as the "head" of their group. After all, he was the oldest.
Allen, with his Water God-style instincts, was excellent at analyzing situations, but he still had moments of reckless impulsiveness.
The better choice now was…
"We should… run! There's no one here right now, and these dolls are clearly just public fixtures. Allen, you spoil Eris too much! Ah—no, this isn't the time for that!"
"Let's get out of here before the soldiers from the boat catch us! If no one sees us, they won't track us down. Otherwise, forget compensation—if they realize Allen's a murderer, even if we escape, causing a scene in Rikarisu would ruin our chances of reaching the capital!"
As a reincarnated Japanese, Rudeus had a strong sense of social order. Combined with the fact that Allen had just killed someone—and his experience as Eris' tutor, well aware of her troublemaking tendencies—his mind immediately jumped to "Eris screwed up again."
He was panicking.
"Let's go! While the Well of Stellan is empty!"
With that, he used magic to float their luggage and practically dragged everyone toward the stairs at the other end of the bridge.
Sylphie, hearing "Allen's a murderer," didn't stop to question Rudeus' logic. Her flushed face paled, and she immediately grabbed Eris' hand.
"Come on, Eris. No more tantrums. Allen… just killed someone. We can't draw attention right now."
Eris blinked, confused. "Huh?" But she let Sylphie pull her along.
Isolte watched the three with an amused smile, not bothering to correct Rudeus. She glanced at Allen's stunned expression.
"Let's go, senior. If we're not making wishes, there's no reason to stay."
With a playful flick of her wrist, she waved the "divine attendant" matching her hair color and turned away, vanishing into the darkness.
"Besides… we don't need to wish."
Her hair fluttered as she looked back, radiant.
"Because our 'wish' is already in our hands."
The words left Allen frozen for a long moment.
"That's not—"
In the few seconds it took to process, the others had already hurried ahead. He wanted to explain—this was an assassination attempt, we need to check the stall owner—but they were already gone.
He turned back to the arched gate.
Even if he went back…
Searching the stall owner, interrogating him, then killing him in public?
He looked down at the severed arm in his hand.
And smiled.
With a flick of his wrist, the arm sliced through the air, leaving afterimages before—
Snap!
The high-speed vibration dislodged the concealed projectile hidden within.
Allen caught it between his fingers, clenched his fist, and stepped forward.
"Pathetic."
His foot landed.
With a sharp twist, he snapped the projectile jutting from the doll's palm and tossed it into the Well of Stellan.
The severed arm spun in the water.
A wish had already been made.
Allen's lips curled into a grin as he looked up.
In the distance, Rudeus and the others had reached the end of the bridge.
Stone steps stretched upward, lined with motionless dolls.
Even in the darkness, Allen felt their gaze.
Only now did he realize—
The strange sensation of being watched since entering the well…
It came from them.
His "Flow Sense" instinctively prioritized two things:
Environmental awareness—to control the battlefield, determine the optimal angles for attacks, and swiftly neutralize enemies. (Evident in the tavern killings.)
Detecting killing intent—to preempt threats and reverse the advantage. (Seen when countering the assassin on the ferry.)
But he had never focused on mana flow.
It was too mentally taxing, and most mages were easy prey anyway—if they chanted, he'd sense their killing intent through environmental cues.
But now…
Click. Click. Click.
As Rudeus, Sylphie, Eris, and Isolte ascended the steps—
The dolls moved.
Their arms blurred, striking at the four!
If direct attacks won't work on a Water God swordsman…
Then target his companions.
Force him to reveal an opening.
Four targets.
Let's see you counter this.
The malice was palpable.
Allen's response?
A mocking smile.
He took a single step—casual, effortless.
In his vision, countless magic circles lit up ahead.
Threads of mana pulsed from the dolls, brushing against him before retracting.
A subtle wind spell, vibrating the air to "map" his position.
The Mad Dragon King was a genius.
He took inspiration from Water God techniques.
Impressive…
But.
The magic circles' glow expanded in Allen's eyes—
Then he was there, behind Isolte, in one step.
Dragon-temple battle aura roared through his veins.
For the first time, he unleashed his full—
Speed.
The air shattered.
Boom!!!!
"Useless."
His pupils dilated, processing every attack on the stairs in an instant.
His arm hooked around Isolte's shoulder—
Flick!
A black projectile from the right was deflected.
Spin!
A blade grazed his back, slicing only cloth.
"Too."
He stepped onto the stairs, new force surging. His left hand scooped up Sylphie's waist, tossing her into the air over the dolls' heads. Her white hair fluttered, shock just registering in her eyes.
"Slow."
His foot hooked a doll's leg, sending it crashing into others like a bowling ball.
"For."
His right arm wrapped around Isolte's waist as he leaped, shoulder-checking Sylphie midair—but the impact was softened by wind pressure, landing her safely on his shoulder.
His left hand snatched Eris, who—being the only Sword God-style user—had barely caught his afterimage.
"Me."
With three girls in tow, he stepped onto a projectile, dispersing the force with precise wind control—
And kicked Rudeus through the gate!
Crack!
Allen landed at the threshold, girls in his arms.
He turned back.
Broken projectiles littered the ground.
Dolls lay scattered, crumpled.
Then—
His next step.
Allen, who always conserved battle aura with surgical precision—
Slammed it into the ground.
The stairs exploded.
A shockwave of pure force annihilated every magic circle on every doll.
His pupils returned to normal.
Bullet time—over.
Clatter. Clatter. Clatter.
The dolls collapsed like wheat before a storm.
"Ow!"
"Eek?!"
"Ah—!"
"Guh?!"
A chorus of yelps rang out as Allen stepped through the gate, unfazed.
His gaze locked onto the stall owner across the river.
The man's face was frozen in shock.
Allen pulled the broken projectile from his pocket, pinching it between two fingers.
He pointed.
The needle's tip aligned with the man's pupil.
The stall owner turned to flee—
But then, a whisper reached his ears through the still-active communicator.
A single word, carried by vibrations in the air.
"Bang."
The man's head burst.
A black streak flashed through the spray of blood and brain matter before vanishing into the river.
The headless corpse crumpled.
For a moment, the marketplace was silent.
Then—
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!"
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