Jibril froze, then a sense of danger, as though her natural predator had locked onto her, made her raise her head. Following Roland's words, a violent whirlwind abruptly rose in the blood-red sky.
It seemed to spring out of nowhere, driving away every trace of the black-and-gray Spirit Remains before finally condensing into a slender boy.
Verethragna.
Just as Roland had expected, as long as he was willing to respond, distance posed no problem whatsoever for this Heretic God.
The gallant boy answered in a sharp voice, speaking like an adult.
"Indeed! Indeed! My nemesis who stole away the strongest, you truly are considerate!"
Compared to their brief meeting yesterday, he had not changed at all, yet no intelligent being could possibly overlook that strange sense of dissonance.
Jibril studied Verethragna in surprise, trying to find the source of that abnormality.
Noticing her undisguised gaze, Verethragna looked her way as well.
"Oh, I remember you, the winged one who challenged me last time. Do you intend to borrow a mighty warrior's strength and wisdom to redeem your previous defeat? Then you are most welcome!"
Verethragna gave a hearty smile, seemingly having forgotten that, although they had not spoken yesterday, they had still seen each other.
His nature of accepting any challenge seemed unchanged, but Jibril had nevertheless discovered the source of that dissonance.
His presence as a warrior was far too intense, even carrying an oppressive force. Rather than facing a living being, it felt more like facing an exquisitely crafted statue of a Buddha.
Before Jibril could show her wariness, Roland gently patted the girl's head to reassure her.
"Then you're underestimating her. A victory earned merely by supporting someone else wouldn't satisfy Little Jibril, so this will still be a fight to the death, one on one."
A