— — — — — —
England, London.
Greenwich — The Witenagemot.
A four-story Victorian red-brick building, usually dark after sundown, glowed with rare lamplight.
The Witenagemot was considered one of the headquarters of the Mage Associations. But everyone knew that the Witenagemot of Greenwich wasn't truly a magical association. At best, it could be described as a kind of mutual aid society.
Normally, the organization didn't operate at night. But tonight, unexpected news had forced its senior members into an emergency session.
"A seventh Campione has been born? Is that true?"
"Unconfirmed. But the Italians forwarded eyewitness reports."
"Can we at least confirm an identity? A name, a description?"
"Both have been established. But whether he really is the Seventh remains uncertain. The Copper-Black Cross and the Bronze-Black Cross have locked down all further information."
"If they're suppressing intel, then it's probably true. Strange, though—those two bitter rivals working together?"
"Word is, both of their prodigies became knights to the new king."
"A beauty trap, huh?"
"Do we know which god was slain? Any signs of authority usage?"
"For now, reports point to Athena as the first kill. Afterwards, the new king headed straight to Sardinia—likely to clash with another descending god."
"Another battle already? So fast? Don't tell me Italy's produced another King of Swords."
The King of Swords was notorious among Campione for his love of battle. If this Seventh shared that temperament, contact would need to be handled carefully.
"And according to his name, the new king appears to be from Japan."
A sharp hiss passed through the room. "Now things get interesting."
"Sir, Salvatore Doni is fighting with the new Campione. How do we proceed?"
"We don't. Witenagemot exists to observe gods and kings, to track their movements, and clean up the mess. If Italy is fated for a two-king brawl, that's their problem until it spills over."
"So we do nothing?"
"Not quite. Pass the intel to our special consultant. Have the Sage Princess confirm the accuracy. If possible, ask her to forecast the level of danger."
"Yes, Chairman."
---
Duke Goddodin's estate.
Patricia Ericson pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she carried a stack of files into the mansion. Her expression was grave.
She had come to see the woman who was the Speaker of the Witengamot, and its special consultant—the highest-ranked witch in Europe.
Daughter of Duke Goddodin, famed as the White Hime-Miko: Alice Louise. A headstrong noblewoman with both title and power.
Patricia strode past the opulent, aristocratic halls, unlocked a heavy door, and stepped into the princess's chambers.
In the vast, luxuriously European-styled bedroom, a woman in her twenties lounged against a mountain of pillows. Platinum-blond hair shone like sunlight; her features were delicate and beautiful.
Alice sighed softly. "Miss Ericson. Don't tell me you've brought me another problem."
"With your gift of supreme clairvoyance, wasn't that inevitable?" Patricia replied, voice clipped.
"Exactly why I already know it's a serious problem," Alice muttered. Then she glanced at her Assistant and former tutor.
"I can feel it—this concerns a god."
"Your premonitions rarely miss." Patricia placed the files in her hands. "A seventh Campione has appeared. Name: Ryo Yagami. Origin: Japan. Background unknown. His prey, suspected to be Athena."
"Athena? The ancient triple-formed Mother Earth Goddess?"
Alice blinked, then frowned as she skimmed the documents. "Information lockdown? How foolish of our Italian colleagues. No… most likely, orders from the Campione himself."
In Europe, intelligence on god-slayers was normally shared among the great magical societies. It was the only way to prevent some idiot from provoking a natural disaster—and dragging everyone else down with him.
"So they want me to verify through clairvoyance?"
"The chairman requested it." Patricia stood ramrod straight beside her, glasses flashing. "But given your current condition, I strongly advise against it."
Alice's frail body had long since failed to support the immense spiritual burden of her bloodline. She had been unable to walk for years. That weakness was why she'd stepped down from the Witenagemot's leadership, directing affairs remotely as a consultant instead.
Still, the secrecy surrounding this case stirred her curiosity.
"Just confirming an identity shouldn't hurt."
After all, the Witenagemot had started as a society of busybodies—Mages, Fairy Doctors, failed Priests, rude folklorists, eccentric clergymen, bizarre artists, rich misers, even royals with nothing but a title. United by nothing more than curiosity, they had grown into Europe's most famous intelligence network.
And when it came to the true rulers of the magical world—the Campiones—Alice's curiosity was impossible to suppress.
"Let's see whether this one really did kill a god…"
Her gaze went glassy.
In the next moment, she stood on an unfamiliar street. A blurred man faced off against a silver-haired girl in a blue knit cap with cat ears. Her black eyes gleamed with a serpent's sharpness.
Then, suddenly, the girl turned—and met Alice's gaze.
Like a sparrow pinned by a snake, Alice froze in horror.
Seeing her stiffen, Patricia immediately pulled on enchanted gloves, forcing Alice out of the vision.
Alice collapsed, gasping for breath, her flawless face dripping with cold sweat.
"Thank you, Miss Ericson. Another second, and that goddess would have caught me."
"Goddess?" Patricia frowned. "But this was supposed to be intel on a Campione. Why would you sense a goddess?"
Alice steadied herself, then whispered, "I saw divinity clinging to someone's form. If I'm right, that was Athena herself."
"And the Campione…" Her voice faltered.
"…he may be like the Black Prince—slaying a goddess, then binding her as a vassal."
Patricia's eyes went wide. "You don't mean… Athena, the goddess of wisdom, has become the Seventh's subordinate?"
"From what I saw, very likely."
Alice gave a wry smile. "Three years ago, I foresaw the world falling into eternal night under Athena's hand. But now… it seems that prophecy has gone awry."
"That sounds like good news," Patricia offered, uncertain.
"Perhaps…" Alice murmured. But then her eyes lost focus again.
This time, a black-haired, dark-eyed youth appeared—hands folded behind his back, a playful smile on his lips. "So you're the one spying on me?"
Alice's breath caught.
...
"Alice! Alice!" Patricia's voice dragged her back. Alice jerked awake, panic flashing in her eyes.
"How long was I out?"
"Three minutes," Patricia said quickly.
Alice's face drained of color. "Notify Witenagemot. Prepare to receive him. The Seventh King is coming."
Patricia froze in shock.
— — —
Over London Bridge Airport.
Ryo stretched lazily in his seat, grinning. "Someone was peeking at us just now. Cute little thing, too."
"Oh? That witch with blood close to the divine ancestors?" Athena arched a brow, still scribbling notes on the Circle of Usurpation. "With her strength, she shouldn't be able to break the spell Pandora and I placed on you."
"Still, better safe than sorry," Ryo said lightly.
Athena turned her gaze toward the sofa, where Erica and Liliana slept soundly. "At this rate, you'll end up sleep-deprived."
Ryo chuckled. "Don't worry. Sooner or later, I'll master time management."
"And I'll make sure to leave some time for you."
.
.
.