Chapter 2 — Coming of age, a ceremony needed for emancipation. Part 2
“Do whatever you want. In the end, I wouldn’t be able to change anything anyway if you decide to go all out against me.”
Then she giggled and clapped once with joy.
“Thank you, for always listening to my selfish requests.” I felt as though I might fall in love with her current smile. “That’s why I like you, Moon’s Postilion.”
At the same time as she spoke those words, the whip in my hand shone brightly, and then it started transforming into a black one right before my eyes. It acquired a glossy finish that reminded me of iron, but its texture was different.
After swinging it lightly, it danced magnificently with unimaginable speed, literally leaving trails behind it before returning back to my hand.
“That’s for you, I asked the dwarves to make it. It’s called the Crescent Moon’s Shadow, made by interlacing strips of a monster’s leather dissolved in silver water under the shadow of the moon.”
Tools made by dwarves were almost always superior to regular ones, but convincing the hardheaded dwarves to make something was probably quite the hassle, so I gave her my thanks.
“I’m glad you like it.”
She stood up from my lap. The soft feeling disappeared and only her sweet scent lingered for a while, tingling my nose.
“By the way.”
As if dancing through an ocean of stars, she walked away. My gaze instinctively followed her golden hair that swayed in an inviting manner.
“Do you know what is happening down there?”
There was no way for me to know that. All I did was circle through the sky, pulling the moon behind me.
I shook my head, and she turned around, her hair waving behind her.
“You see, down there, a world is coming to its end. A big world at that.”
I knitted my brows, hearing her bring up something so trivial, but just at that moment–––
Time started flowing again.
In the instant that followed, White Hatred closed in on me and opened its huge jaws, shortening the distance between us considerably, close enough that it felt like I could touch it with my hand.
“Oh come on now, I can’t even enjoy the aftertaste?”
Grumbling, I tightened my grip on the newly acquired Crescent Moon’s Shadow.
White Hatred raised its voice.
“Is that thy weapon I see? Art thee finally in the mood to finish this, Moon’s Postilion?!”
“Well, I’m just going with the flow here.”
As I spoke this, I swung the whip.
It sliced through space, hitting the jaws that were closing in on me and tearing them apart.
Without stopping for even a moment after my opening attack, I twisted my wrist and continued striking, smashing and ripping through it countless times.
Still, as soon as a wound was made, it would start to heal itself immediately.
“Ahhh, there’s no end to this.” I ruffled my brown hair forcibly with my free hand.
“If thou art giving up, I shall gladly end thy suffering.”
No matter how many times I hit him, White Hatred wouldn’t even flinch. He just kept on chasing insistently after me, determined to end my life.
The situation just kept worsening with every passing moment.
If there was a word that could describe him perfectly, it would be ‘persistence’.
Maybe he would even chase me all the way down to hell if I were to die.
And I didn’t mean that lightly.
Then I heard a beautiful voice that sounded completely incongruous with this situation:
“I realize that you are going to die here, but just in case, I’ll tell you this: take care of yourself, and may we meet again.”
That sentence seemed to have been said simply for the sole purpose of irritating me further, but she definitely didn’t mean any harm…or did she?
But then again, no matter what it meant, that was just the kind of thing that she’d say, something that I found cute about her.
“Good day, Moon’s Postilion. Good day, Moon’s Postilion. Good day, Moon’s Postilion.”
That was the last time I heard her voice, and it wouldn’t be until much, much later that I would be able to meet with her again.
I woke up wondering if I had dreamt a really weird dream, only to find that I had woken up into another dream.
There was nothing but pure white stretching out for as far as I could see. Not even the horizon where the ground met the sky was visible.
Only I was there, wearing my black sailor uniform, accompanied by the blonde girl whom I had seen in my dream.
The girl named Ver, who was also referred to as the goddess of fate, and had some sort of relationship with Moon’s Postilion.
She was so breathtakingly beautiful in person.
She had slightly wavy and soft-looking blonde hair, with deep mysterious eyes. Her body was wrapped in a garment made from a single piece of silk, and her feet were clad in lace up sandals. On top of all this, a smile seemed to never leave her lips.
Even the air around her glittered like small stars vanishing.
‘Goddess’ seemed to be more than just a moniker now.
As I stared at her, fascinated, she giggled lightly.
Even her most idle gestures were exceptionally mysterious, as well as polished.
“…Who are…” Her hand moved as if to interrupt my question.
“I’m Verdandi, but you can simply call me Ver.”