Chapter 9 — Resonance
The bus rattled down the road, its dim yellow lights humming softly. Gran groaned from his seat, clutching his ribs.
"Damn… I think my spine's cracked."
Alya whimpered, one hand over her shoulder. "At least you still have a spine, Gran. My arm feels like it's going to fall off."
Priscilla, seated by the window, pressed a bloodied cloth against her thigh. "Both of you, shut it. Complaining won't stitch the wounds."
Ranmaru fished out a few low-grade potions from his pouch. "Here. Drink. It won't heal you completely, but it'll stop the bleeding."
They obeyed, though reluctantly. The bitter liquid slid down their throats, dulling the ache just enough to breathe.
At the very back, Aven sat in silence. His face pale. His hands trembled as if they weren't his own.
I killed him… The thought circled in his skull like a vulture. The image of blood bursting, the hollowed eyes of a dying man—it all dragged him back to that night. His father's body, the warmth draining away. He pressed his palms against his head.
"No… no, stop…" he whispered to himself.
Then his stomach turned.
Before anyone could react—he lurched forward and vomited onto the floor.
The stench spread instantly. Passengers gasped.
"Ugh, disgusting!" a woman cried.
A man snapped, his voice sharp and irritated. "Hey, you! If you're carsick, you should've said something before you got on. Now you've just ruined the ride for the rest of us!"
The whole bus buzzed with complaints, angry murmurs closing in like a swarm.
"Enough," Ranmaru stood quickly, placing himself between Aven and the passengers. "He's not drunk. He's just—"
But it was too late. The driver, brow furrowed, pulled the bus to the side of the road. "Out. All of you. I don't want trouble on my bus."
"What?!" Gran barked. "He didn't even puke on anyone!"
Priscilla rose too, her eyes cold. "This is ridiculous."
The argument spiraled, voices clashing with passengers pointing fingers and demanding them gone.
And through it all, Aven stared at the floor, ashamed, his vision blurry. Yet when he lifted his eyes, he saw it—Gran, Alya, Priscilla, even Ranmaru—standing for him. Defending him without hesitation.
Something in his chest tightened. His lips parted, eyes shimmering.
Still, the verdict came. They were shoved off the bus, abandoned on the roadside. The doors hissed shut, the vehicle roared away, leaving dust in its wake.
Gran kicked a stone furiously. "Damn it! Now we're walking, all because of you, you carsickness bastard!"
"I'm not carsick!" Aven snapped, cheeks red. "I just… felt dizzy, okay?!"
His embarrassed tone only earned smirks from Alya and Priscilla. For the first time, their bickering didn't sting—it almost felt like… family.
Priscilla sighed, adjusting her bandaged leg. "We're close enough to the temple. Stop whining."
Alya stumbled forward, groaning. "If someone doesn't carry me, I swear I'll pass out right here…"
Together, battered and limping, they pressed on under the fading sky.
By the time they staggered into the Sun God Society's temple, the scent of incense and polished stone wrapped around them like a balm. Relief washed over their weary faces.
Inside, a healer awaited.
Leona Meyers.
Her long, blonde hair shimmered under the temple's lanterns, strands falling carelessly across her face in a way that felt effortlessly graceful. She wore fitted white attire resembling a scientist's uniform, a sleek zipper drawn high at the neck, a narrow belt cinching her waist. Authority and elegance in one figure.
"Sit," she said, her voice soft but commanding. "You're all hurt."
Gran collapsed onto the nearest bench with a groan. Alya followed, nearly toppling. Priscilla remained proud, though the twitch in her leg betrayed her pain.
Aven, however, froze.
As Leona leaned over him, her fingers brushing his arm, it was as if the world shifted. Around her, he swore he saw petals—soft pink blossoms unfurling in a silent spring breeze. His heart thumped loudly in his chest.
"She's… an angel," he whispered, dazed.
Priscilla noticed his dopey expression and nearly gagged. "Oh, please. Get a grip before I stab you."
Leona smiled faintly, unaware of their banter. Her warm gaze fell on Aven. "You don't seem injured. Not a single wound." She tilted her head, curiosity glinting. "I heard… you're the one who dealt the final blow. Is that true?"
Aven straightened, puffing his chest. "Of course, Miss Leona. It was me. I'm strong, after all."
Behind him, Gran muttered, "Strong my ass. You can't even keep your stomach in check…"
Leona leaned back, her eyes fixed on the crumpled figure on the floor.
"So, Ranmaru… what about Wataru Jojo's body?" she asked casually.
Smoke coiled from Ranmaru's kiseru, thickening into a lazy spiral beside him. With one sweep of his left hand, the haze tightened, gripping Wataru's corpse, and dragged it across the floor as though the body weighed nothing.
Everyone watched in stunned silence.
"…Damn," Aven muttered. "That was… impressive." Then louder, "Mr. Ranmaru, what pillar are you, anyway? And—have you already reached ascension?"
Ranmaru exhaled another puff of smoke, his voice gravelly but calm.
"I've ascended to the Fifth Level. Void Apprentice. I command dimensional space itself."
Alya's eyes widened. "Fifth? Isn't that… overpowered?"
Ranmaru shook his head. "Not at all. It's still among the lower classes. Strong, yes, but hardly invincible."
Aven scratched his head, eyes narrowing. "And you, Lady Leona? Which pillar have you climbed?"
Leona smiled faintly, like a teacher humoring a curious child.
"Second Ascension. Resonance Light Blesser—born from the fusion of Empress and Magician pillars."
Aven groaned and pressed his temples. "My head hurts already… I don't understand any of this."
"That's because you're stupid," Gran snapped, rolling his eyes.
"Shut up, smoke-brain!" Aven shot back instantly.
Leona chuckled softly behind her hand. "Fufufu~ You'll learn in time, Aven. The Resonance system is complicated, yes, but it is the foundation of survival in this world." She produced a small casket. Inside: a flask of thick, dark blood and a stack of bills. "Here. The Pureblood's essence… and ten thousand yen."
Aven's eyes instantly turned into symbols of currency.
"This! This is what I've been waiting for!"
Leona gave him a sideways look but didn't comment. She hoisted Wataru's corpse effortlessly, her cloak fluttering as she walked toward the door.
"I'll deliver this to the Association. My work here is done."
"So Miss Leona really is from the Association…" Alya whispered, as though the idea had only just clicked.
"Obviously," Priscilla muttered, arms folded.
That night, the group gathered in the Sun God Society's main hall. Torches burned low, shadows stretching long across the walls. On the altar stood two golden chalices, each brimming with shimmering, sinister blood.
Kazuki's gaze swept over them.
"Aven. Alya. These are yours. May you restrain yourselves—and may the blood not consume you."
Aven swallowed hard, staring at the vessel as though it were both treasure and curse.
"So this is… blood from the Underworld? Smells kinda fishy…"
Beside him, Alya had already lifted her chalice without hesitation. She drank deeply, her eyes fluttering shut before she collapsed into stillness.
"Tch… she didn't even hesitate," Aven muttered. His hand trembled on the golden cup. "Alright… here goes nothing."
The taste burned like liquid iron. The moment it hit his tongue, his vision fractured. The hall blurred, tilting, collapsing into itself—until Aven felt his body plummet through an endless void.
He landed in darkness. A gray fog spread in every direction, swallowing sight and sound. And there—within the haze—loomed figures: vast silhouettes, each radiating a different hue, faint and divine.
The Pillars.
The Sun. The Moon. The Magician. The Wheel. The Tower. The Star. The Empress. The Emperor. The Judgment. The World. Death. The Joker.
Aven's breath caught. The gods regarded him, their faces veiled in mist, their judgment heavy.
He stepped forward desperately. "I—choose me! I have Sephiroth! The legendary sword, it's mine!"
But one by one, their voices dismissed him.
"Sun? …Not interested."
"Moon? …Not interested."
"Magician? …Not interested."
"Empress? …Not interested."
"Star? …Not interested."
Each rejection tightened around his chest like a vice. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. "Please… someone—anyone!"
Only one remained. The Pillar of Judgment.
A shadow stirred in the fog. Its aura swirled black with faint streaks of white, like cracks of light within a storm.
A voice echoed, deep and resonant.
"Human… from the beginning, I have been watching you. You bear willpower most lack. I will allow you to stand by my side. By my decree, you are chosen."
Aven's eyes filled with relief. A shaky smile spread across his face. "Finally… finally…"
Light broke through the fog, pulling him upward—until his eyes snapped open. He gasped for air, body trembling, but strangely light. His vision sharpened; his blood raced like a roaring river.
Beside him, Alya stirred as well. She exhaled, her pupils glowing faintly with silver. "The Wheel," she said simply.
"I—I chose Judgment," Aven blurted. "Is it… strong?"
Kazuki's voice cut across the silence.
"Each Pillar counters another. None is supreme. What matters is the wielder. But remember this—the more fusions you attempt, the more dangerous the path. The system of Resonance is limitless, but it will consume the weak."
He paused, his expression turning grave.
"To this day, no mortal has ascended beyond the Thirteenth Level."
The hall fell quiet.
Later that night, Aven lay in his quarters, staring at the ceiling. His chest still throbbed with the Judgment's power, but his mind wandered elsewhere.
Mayane… it's been too long since I've called you.
He touched the pouch of bills at his side. Maybe tomorrow I'll go to Osaka. I'll hand this money to you. Tell you I've finally found work. That your brother's not useless anymore.