Achoo~

A cute sneeze sounded beside the crackling fire. Mio sat hugging her knees on a dry log, wrapped in a warmth blanket. Her clothes hung across the flames, drying from the heat. Beside her, the golden-haired swordswoman kept apologizing.

“I’m so sorry. You look just like an old friend of mine. I couldn’t control myself. But I’ll fix this bad habit.”

Mio studied her cautiously. Now dressed, the woman’s curly golden hair fell naturally over her shoulders. A longsword hung at her waist, gripped with effortless ease—a truly imposing sight.

“Let me introduce myself,” she said. “I’m Esmeralda. Friends call me Aimee. I’m a swordsman of the Hamodia Swordsmen, a devotee of War God Balder. Currently on a training journey.”

“Hello,” Mio replied politely. “I’m Mio. A freeman from the Northern Lands. I just arrived in the Empire and am traveling to Seralni.”

“Seralni?” Aimee pondered. “That city’s a hub for slave trading. But lately, slavers moved east. It’s grown quiet. You won’t see any gladiator matches there now.”

“Gladiator matches?” Mio’s eyebrow twitched. So this was a slave society after all.

“Yep. Held each spring and autumn,” Aimee said, oblivious to Mio’s unease. “Spring honors Canon, god of life and harvest. Autumn honors War God Balder. Devotees like me sometimes join the autumn fights. Though I’m banned now.”

“No, I’m not going for matches,” Mio said. “General Gaius of the Northern Legion asked me to deliver a soldier’s ashes to his family in Seralni. His name was Rukhus. He helped me once. I must give them to his kin.”

“May Balder guide his soul,” Aimee prayed to her god.

Mio glanced at Reaper Deus, crouched nearby with hands over his eyes. A question popped up: “Are there people who worship the Reaper?”

“Worship the Reaper? Hahaha! A joke?” Aimee stopped laughing. “Seriously, no living person does. Anyone who tries must be mad.”

Mio stole another look at Deus, tears barely held back. He seemed pitiful.

Humans get lonely. Gods probably do too.

“Oh!” Aimee leaned in suddenly. “Mio, which god do you follow?”

“Me?” Mio’s face twisted in disgust. “I hate gods.”

Aimee’s eyes widened in shock.

“You’re from the North, right? You can worship multiple gods if you can’t abandon old beliefs,” Aimee explained. “I follow War God Balder as my main deity, but also Justis, god of fairness and justice. Gods are generous. As long as you avoid feuding deities, they’ll bless you. But never worship a fallen god—you’ll be burned by the Pantheon’s judges.”

“What’s the benefit of worship?”

“Plenty!” Aimee stepped back, hand on her sword hilt. “Take my patron, War God Balder. His blessing for me is—Dress, Silver Saint Armor!”

Divine energy surged around Aimee—purer than human magic or spirit power. Silver light enveloped her, solidifying into lightweight armor. Even Mio, a novice, saw its strength.

“See?” Aimee grinned proudly. “My Divine Art ceremonial armor, Silver Saint Armor.”

“No way.” Mio felt her common sense shatter. “Gods lend power to humans? Such strong power!”

“Strange?” Aimee stared. “Almost everyone here worships one or more gods for blessings. Farmers follow Canon for fertile fields. Healers worship Latia, goddess of wisdom and life, for healing. Without divine grace, life gets hard. Atheists don’t exist. Unless…”

“Unless?” Mio asked.

Aimee took a deep breath. “Unless you’re a Godslayer.”

Mio had heard that name twice now—first from the pathetic Reaper.

“Hey! Why not join Balder’s faith?” Aimee pitched her god. “Warriors usually pick him. You don’t need a temple—I’m Balder’s chosen champion. I can make you his devotee right now.”

“I’ll think about it,” Mio shook her head. “I don’t want to worship any god yet.”

“Okay,” Aimee nodded. “If you change your mind, tell me. Lord Balder welcomes female devotees—especially pretty girls like you.”

“Wait…” Mio’s eyes narrowed. “Is that war god… lecherous?”

“A little, hahaha.” Aimee chuckled awkwardly. “But no worries! Balder’s unmatched in battle—and in bed!”

Dressed in dried clothes, Mio led her gray horse out of the forest. Aimee waited by the road. Poor Deus stood beside her, ignored completely. Normal people couldn’t see Reapers. Mio realized she wasn’t normal at all.

A scout drone ahead spotted a village south—a small settlement at the forest’s edge, surrounded by fields and a wooden wall against beasts. As Mio and Aimee neared the gate, an arrow thudded at their feet.

“Who are you?” A young man peered over the wall.

“Travelers,” Aimee called back. “Heading to Seralni. Night’s falling—we seek shelter.”

“Proof of identity?” he asked.

“None,” Aimee said. “But the gods vouch for me.”

“Gods?” The youth blinked. “Which one?”

Aimee drew her sword in a flash, plunged it into the earth, and gripped the hilt. “I am a devotee of Justis, god of fairness and justice! I am justice’s judge, the enemy of evil!”

A radiant light descended, bathing Aimee. The youth lowered his bow, stood straight, and bowed deeply.

“My apologies, traveler,” he said. “Such divine grace proves you’re a lawful, righteous wanderer. I misjudged you.”

“No harm done,” Aimee smiled. “Caution is wise. I forgive you.”

Mio watched, stunned. Divine blessings weren’t just for combat—they were currency. The drawbridge lowered. Aimee sheathed her sword and strode in. Mio followed, gray horse in tow, silver hair swaying. Children hid behind wall posts, giggling and scattering when she glanced their way. At the village gate, Deus waved goodbye. He seemed reluctant to enter.

Mio sighed in relief. Finally rid of that dangerous baggage.

The village was calm, yet tension hung thick in the air.

The youth led them to the largest central hut—a sturdy wooden hall dwarfing the thatched homes. Inside, four elders sat grim-faced around a table.

“Village head,” the youth announced, “travelers arrived. One bears strong grace from Justis.”

The eldest elder looked up, studying Aimee.

“Greetings, fair ladies,” he said politely. “I’m Talos, head of this hamlet, Seron. But your timing is poor.”

“How so?” Aimee asked.

“Ah, a long tale.” Talos coughed. “Bandits appeared northwest of Seron. They raid us often, lately targeting young girls. Our wall holds beasts, not men. After recent fights, our youths are depleted. Next attack will be our end.”

Banditry plagued borders here too, Mio noted.

“Hand us over?” Aimee smirked lightly. “We’re quite lovely, after all.”

For a flicker, the elder’s eyes wavered.

“Surrendering a Justis devotee to bandits? I’m not that foolish,” he said. “I’ll send a hunter to guide you away from this danger.”

“What about you?”

“May Canon protect us.”

“Harvest god Canon grants no battle strength,” Aimee stated. “Only Balder’s warriors can fight. I’m Balder’s chosen and Justis’ devotee. I won’t ignore such cruelty. I’ll stay and fight.”

The elders gasped.

“How many bandits?” Mio asked. “You’ve fought them. Share your intel—rough numbers.”

“About thirty,” Talos said. “We killed three. Twenty-some remain.”

“Call it thirty,” Mio scanned the room. “Your defenses can’t hold that many. We need a battle plan.”

“Exactly,” Aimee nodded. “A plan is essential.”

For the next half-day, Aimee drilled the able villagers in combat. Mio ventured deep into the forest with two hunters, tracking the bandits’ beast trails.