"Hmph."
"What an arrogantly boastful man."
In the palace of ice and snow, a woman in a military-green coat looked at the man who had drawn his sword with undisguised distaste.
Koyanskaya did not like Ruslan.
She even somewhat hated the man.
Yet she had no choice but to accept his existence.
It was an exceedingly unpleasant feeling.
However, there was one thing she had to admit.
This man, who shamelessly crowned himself with names hidden away in the corners of history, was indeed very strong.
Though she did not know just how strong he was, he was certainly not someone Caenis could contend with.
Aside from his absurdly powerful base parameters, there was also—
The abilities he had [stolen] from the history that "belonged" to him.
"...Zinivosh."
Caenis stared at the sword in Ruslan's hand, the corner of her mouth twitching as fury overwhelmed her.
"Wasn't that sword in that idiot's hands, you bastard?!"
"Don't worry about that."
Ruslan spun Zinivosh in his hand, rubbing his shoulder at the same time.
"Actually, I'm not quite used to wielding this thing with my current body size—you can think of it as a projection of my past."
"The one in that idiot's hands is the real Zinivosh. Mine is merely a shadow that entered the corner along with me."
"But it's more than enough to teach you a lesson."
Whoosh—
The divine construct in Ruslan's hand became wreathed in flames.
That was Zinivosh's ability.
The fire burning upon it was the ever-burning flame within the furnace endlessly hammered by Hephaestus, possessing endlessly shifting power.
In the past, Ruslan had largely relied on this divine construct—which was not actually of a particularly high grade—to sail across the Atlantic Ocean in song alongside Oceannus and the other three heroes.
Until he was cursed