Amon

The language was Jotun, but every syllable carried explosive force. Neph felt as though a hammer were pounding her head, blow after blow, scattering her concentration.

It was like listening to rock... heavy metal, at that...

...Super effective.

Her thoughts drifted amid the dull pounding, then coalesced as an icy chill spread rapidly through her. Coming back to her senses, Neph reached her spirituality toward the Blank Canvas without hesitation!

-She failed.

Invisible restraints wrapped around her spirituality, leaving her unable to move. Neph heard that voice draw closer, little by little:

"As expected, its protection over you isn't so airtight anymore.

"The successor to the 'White Angel'? Is the 'Hanged Man' so short-handed that he would elevate a Sequence 9 to such a position?"

The voice finally stopped somewhere very close. Neph heard him say with a chuckle, "Turn around, won't you?"

Neph didn't want to move, but she had no choice. An external force moved her body, turning her around just like that.

The man before her looked young. He wore a black hooded cloak and a pointed soft hat, looking just like the warlocks Neph remembered. Her gaze fell on his black curls and the crystal monocle over his right eye, finally confirming the visitor's identity.

-Amon!

He didn't seem to be planning to kill me...?

That realization offered no comfort. After all, death might be a good thing in certain circumstances-for instance, when a certain God of Mischief was watching you with a mocking smile.

Amon stood very close, but Neph felt nothing besides fear. Only when she actually encountered this King of Angel did she understand what the original novel meant by the oppressive presence of demigods and higher beings, emphasized time and again-the immense difference in their levels of existence made even breathing difficult at such close quarters.

I think if he let go of me, I might drop to my knees right in front of him... Hiss... Fuck!

Amon raised his hand. Neph saw a dark gleam flash, and then the Blank Canvas abruptly broke free of her restraints and flew into the hands of this king of the "Marauder" Pathway.

"An unfamiliar Sefirah..." He held up the Blank Canvas, turning it over before him. "You call it the Blank Canvas? A fitting name."

The restraints on her abruptly loosened. Neph discovered she had misjudged that oppressive presence after all. Fear only made her tremble; it hadn't brought her to her knees.

She looked at the smiling Angel of Time before her and the Blank Canvas in his hand, abandoning the idea of reaching her spirituality into it. She moved her body a little and replied tentatively:

"...Thank you?"

"You're welcome." The Angel of Time gave her a smile that could almost be called gentle. Neph realized that the pressure had vanished, and his voice no longer sounded like wheels grinding over her brain.

But Neph's expression grew more wary. The Angel of Time studied her with interest and marveled, "How strange. You're as afraid of me as the Jacobs."

"...Isn't Zoroaster afraid of you?" Neph couldn't help asking.

"You know quite a lot," he said. "Did it come from this?"

He pointed at the Blank Canvas. Neph shook her head and answered honestly:

"It was the other way around.

"It... no, its owner, that Great Old One, learned everything from me."

"And then?" Amon continued.

"I don't know," Neph replied.

Then, before her astonished eyes, the God of Deceit tossed the Blank Canvas back into her hands.

Neph didn't dare catch it. She even dodged instinctively. The Blank Canvas struck the window frame, then fell to the floor. The Angel of Time looked at her and asked:

"You don't want it anymore?"

Neph hesitated, but still didn't move.

Amon seemed to lose some of his interest. Neph heard a faint, impatient click of his tongue, and then the familiar pressure returned. This time, however, she felt no fear. At some point, the God of Mischief before her had become friendly, and Neph suddenly felt an urge to pour her heart out to him.

That urge quickly vanished. Neph could feel a chill spreading from the depths of her soul. Fortunately, her trembling didn't stand out at that moment-she had been shaking all along.

"You aren't a believer of the 'Hanged Man,'" he said. "The 'White Angel' was your lie. You haven't spoken a single word of truth since setting foot in Moon City."

"You aren't a believer of the Fool, either," he continued. "You pray to him, but seemingly only to obtain food from the outside world."

"Nor are you a believer or blessed of an Outer Deity," he added. "Of course, you aren't this Sefirah's original owner, either-you're like a thief."

He paused, watching her with a smile, then said slowly, "If you were a little more interesting, perhaps I would suggest you switch Pathways."

"And then I would die an unnatural death-or put on a monocle," Neph said lucidly.

Amon chuckled softly. He leaned closer, his face seeming to take on a touch of gentleness, revealing a different sort of charm. Neph heard his feather-soft voice brush across her heart:

"Mental powers don't work on you. Then... what about charm?"

An icy chill once again spread from the depths of her spirituality. Neph regained her clarity. Looking at that still somewhat gentle face in dawning realization, she couldn't help saying:

"...Did you used to seduce your father like this, too?"

"...?" The smile vanished from Amon's face. He stared at Neph with those dark, deep eyes and said nothing.

Neph shuddered. She hurried to salvage the situation. "I meant acting cute! Like a child wheedling their parents!"

"I have some new ideas about your Pathway." Amon gave her a cold look, then smiled again. "I think you know what I mean."

'Provoker,' right? Haha... Neph gave him a polite smile and chose to change the subject:

"If you want to learn something from me, why not simply steal it?"

"What makes you think I haven't tried?" he countered.

Neph was speechless.

"Pick it up." Amon glanced at her coldly. "If you know enough, you should be aware that I have no interest in any Sefirah other than 'Sefirah Castle.'"

Neph obediently bent down and picked up the Blank Canvas, then said, "But you might be interested in my apotheosis ritual."

"I don't need yours," he said, still coldly. "I know twenty-two complete Pathways. Why must I choose one I know nothing about?"

Maybe you just like asking for trouble... Neph didn't dare say that aloud. She asked, "Then

"what did you come to see me for?"

"To play," he said succinctly.

Neph choked. She ground her teeth and changed the subject:

"Since I don't count as your enemy, then... perhaps we could cooperate on certain matters."

"Cooperate?" As though he had heard a joke, he looked Neph up and down in astonishment. "You?"