"Now then, let us discuss the specifics of what we all gathered here for."
Alex Lispentine's hands were out ahead of him, each finger interlaced with its counterpart as he read from a short list.
"As you know, seven of you will be competing against one another for the honor to fight Ms. Camilla Buckley. The tournament brackets have been arranged based on your individual rankings within the guild. Please stand once called."
In a voice not different from a teacher's, he commanded the superhumans with ease, his gaze turning down to the paper.
Beside him, Aaron observed the Marshals as they waited for their names to be read aloud by their boss.
"Lord Kurogane will take the bye in the first round, leaving the other six of you in matches."
He paused, the sound of the steel chair in the far back sliding away cascading throughout the room with a hideous shriek.
The black-haired man, who wielded the sword of unlimited caliber, slowly stood up, his eyes still focused on Ocean's Bane.
It was as if there was a certain awe behind his eyes, his hand lightly brushing against the hilt of his own sword.
At the very same moment that Lispentine was about to continue, the swordsman smiled, his blade exiting its sheath only a fraction of a centimeter.
Marshals flinched backwards, readying their weapons as the swordsman stared down his target with intense concentration.
Aaron could hardly breathe, his entire body screaming at him to run from a being of absolute omniscience.
If the deity in his head did not steal the memories of how Cauron Thorn pressured him before his lecture, he would be able to tell that the current feeling was incomparably worse than even back then.
It was different—this was not the divine he had laughed about with the Old Man in the void between worlds.
What filled the dim chamber was the gaze of the Primordial himself, a being who had died in an era long forgone.
『The God of Space. 'He' was gone before my time, and even the God Slayers. 'He' was omniscient and omnipotent. And now, a singular fragment of 'his' celestial mass has been condensed into a sword of a similar caliber to myself.』
It was the first time in over a day that Penelope had spoken, her tone grave and final as if she came face to face with an inevitable fate.
The Marshals did not move either, simply observing their comrade as he studied the pulsating turquoise sword at Aaron's hip.
Not even the guildmaster himself could say anything in the face of the strongest swordsman in history.
However, after another moment, the cause of their concerns disappeared as the man's gaze shifted away, his eyes glazing over like he couldn't care less about anything or anyone in the room.
Sitting down, he stared at the floor, his interest in the young challenger's weapon gone like the wind.
"Ahem…"
Clearing his throat, Alex returned to what he was doing, reading the names on the list from top to bottom.
"For the first round, we have Beatrix Meredien against Havok Fenmir."
The elderly man who had questioned Aaron's presence before stood up promptly, giving the young woman who had risen with him a fierce look.
The female Marshal on the receiving end of his glare looked like an average clergywoman, sporting short blue hair, pale white skin, and a rune-inscribed book in her hand.
There was nothing that could distinguish her from any other priestess whom Aaron had seen, her attire oddly similar to Eleanor's at the time he found her in the Mausoleum.
Is she of the Church of Depths as well? Perhaps she would know who that Angel was then…
Considering actually asking about it, he shook his head, deciding it wasn't worth the risk of being wrong.
"Thank you, now you can sit. For the next round, we will have Eren Astelion versus Tavira Lunestra."
As the two previous sat down, another pair stood up, the first of which sent Aaron's mind into a slight frenzy.
The deity inside the boy's skull activated its barrier quickly, a weak version yet enough to make him uncomfortable.
That's him…
Staring at the first of the two, a man with black hair speckled with tiny sparkles like the night sky, his eyes glistening with a hue akin to two supernovas, Aaron could feel the presence of a god behind the Marshal.
He wore a suit matching that of Alex Lispentine, despite their differing figures—brilliant white, with a black tie holding the look together.
Directly across the ring of thrones, a woman with dark skin faced him, her golden eyes like those of a feline.
Long curly strands of black hair rolled down her back, a small mole behind her left ear appearing as she pulled her hair into a bun.
She wore a black chestplate along with a dark cape; however, what really caught the boy's eye was the blade glistening at her hip.
It was nowhere near Arcturus Centuria or Ocean's Bane in strength, but the intense darkness around it drew the eye.
It's imbued with Dark Magic… That quality is something a Devil could only do…
Gritting his teeth at the memory of the crooked sovereign, Azaroth Pane, he heard a soft sound escape the president's lips.
"Ah, that reminds me. Sir Astelion, I believe you should speak with Mr. Grimstall after this meeting. I've gotten word that you're quite similar in terms of where you draw your strength."
The addressed man's eyes widened, a look of realization dawning upon him as he attempted to gaze into Aaron's mind.
Blocking it through intense barrier magic and a quick bite of his cheek, Aaron watched as all the Marshals looked at him with an odd stare.
Can they not see me at all…? No… They think it's my god doing this, not me.
He smiled over at Cam, who had her head tilted to the side, and a small sigh escaped her mouth as she worried about what the guildmaster could possibly be talking about.
One moment later, the second pair of duelists sat down again, the next of the group being called up.
"Finally, we have Thalax Jeanfall against Bianca Santoro."
The Marshals closest to the boy moved at once, white robes fluttering by the boy's side as the woman directly beside him rose from her seat.
Her hair was akin to a radiant rainbow, white strands mixed with every other color, like a canvas splattered with paint—and her white eyes reflected these colors just as vividly.
In her hands, she held a staff that was made of an archaic type of wood from the Sea of Ancients, its ability allowing the woman to fire multiple spells at once.
Aaron himself recognized her instantly, the image of her in Corvassa never once having left his mind.
The Multimage herself… Said to have mastered over four hundred spells…
The second to stand up was an older man, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties, wearing damaged green armor.
His hair matched his attire, a forest green that paired nicely with his deep gray eyes, which reminded the boy of Eleanor.
Out of all the Marshals Aaron had seen, he was possibly the largest, his muscles bulging as he shook hands with Bianca.
Once they returned to their thrones, the golden-haired guildmaster clapped his hands together swiftly, his beard trembling from the noise.
"Of course, after that, we have Camilla Buckey, but as we all know, she needs no introduction. Whoever wishes to challenge her must remember her achievements when she was only a child."
He laughed, adding more.
"Though, in my eyes, a nineteen-year-old is still basically a child."
Aaron's gaze froze, the words of the president slapping him like a hammer straight through the jaw.
Blinking quickly, he immediately looked over at his teacher, who was apparently still in her teens, her pupils turned towards the ground in light embarrassment.
I-I knew she was young, but only four years older than me? T-That's…
The boy had no idea what to even think anymore; his thoughts frozen as he heard Alex broach another topic.
"Now then, there is one last thing I will leave you with."
Turning his head to Aaron for a moment, then back to the group, he spoke to everyone.
"After the tournament in three days, we, as the Hunters' Guild, will terminate all collaborative efforts with the Oceanic Association indefinitely."
There was a deathly silence that fell over the group, not a soul even daring to breathe after hearing such a heavy proclamation.
Cam buried her head in her hands, memories of her history with those working in the highest reaches of the Association flashing through her mind, both the happy and the traumatic ones.
Some of the other Marshals showed similar reactions to Cam, while some didn't seem to care much, and a single man remained as calm and unreadable as ever.
The Swordsman of the South did not express any joy or satisfaction at the words, simply standing up and facing Lispentine.
Raising his finger towards the golden-haired man, he opened his mouth for the first time, ice-cold malice dripping out.
"Do not make threats you cannot hope to deliver. If you harm a single hair on the head of any of the Kings, then you won't have just made enemies in this world, but a thousand others brewing with such vengeance that it would make you nothing more than a worm."
And with that, Masaru Kurogane walked away, his eyes only focusing on Aaron one final time before he left.
However, unlike before, he looked straight into the boy's very soul, bypassing the barrier held by the deity inside his head.
It was as if it simply ignored the Marshal's presence, allowing it to pass through the defensive mechanism without any resistance.
With that one last look, he vanished into the darkness, fading away as if he had never been there.