Dimaria Yesta stood before the statue of the God of Time—Chronos.
Her gaze lingered on the altar beneath it. An altar… or perhaps more accurately, a seal. As she looked at it, her eyes slowly grew complicated.
Her clan had once claimed descent from the God of Time himself.
Yet because of this altar, because of what it represented, a clan that once numbered thousands had been reduced to her alone.
Greed.
The desire to obtain the remnant soul of the God of Time.
That greed had driven them to destruction—mutual slaughter, madness, and finally near-annihilation.
Even now, standing here, about to accept Chronos's remnant soul herself, Dimaria felt her chest tighten. Thinking of her family killing one another for this power… to be honest, she couldn't truly bring herself to accept it.
If it weren't for her unwillingness to let everything end like this and the resentment festering deep inside her...
she would never have come here at all.
But in the end…
She still came.
"A boring life."
Dimaria's eyes were cold and indifferent.
She had no goals.
No dreams.
No hobbies worth mentioning.
The reason she was here wasn't hope—it was simply to bring things to an end.
If she succeeded, then this cursed cause and effect would finally be severed.
If she failed…
Then this life would end here.
No big deal.
To her, this reception was no different from eating or sleeping—just another inevitable process.
"So… it all begins."
Dimaria raised both hands and placed them against the statue.
"Receive."
In an instant, violent magic erupted from her body, surging upward like a pillar and tearing straight into the sky.
"Again…?"
"This time… it shouldn't work."
She didn't notice it.
But at that very moment, the statue's eyes moved—and a faint glimmer of light flashed within them.
The remnant soul of the God of Time awakened.
Guided by its remaining will, Chronos's power poured into Dimaria Yesta, flooding her body and beginning its transformation.
To receive the remnant soul of a god, the body itself had to be reshaped to withstand divine magic.
A human body was far too fragile.
And so, the remnants of the god began forcibly reconstructing her.
...
"That was… the aura of a god?"
In a distant corner of the desert, a young man with black hair paused where he sat.
His eyes narrowed.
"That presence… it's different from Ankhseram's."
Zeref straightened at once.
Without hesitation, he vanished, rushing toward the source of that divine aura.
...
"It's begun."
Rain's expression hardened the moment he sensed the fluctuation.
"Erza. Pick up the pace."
"Got it."
The two of them accelerated, racing upward.
Soon, Rain and Erza reached the top floor—and there they saw her.
Dimaria Yesta.
Already in the midst of receiving the remnant soul of the God of Time.
"Dimaria Yesta… you've already begun."
Rain stopped immediately. He didn't step forward.
If she hadn't started yet, there would be no need to hesitate—he would have taken the remnant soul himself without a second thought.
But now that the process had begun…
Interfering would only cause her magic to run wild, devouring her from within.
Certain death.
Rain couldn't bring himself to do that.
So he remained where he was.
And as Rain and Erza watched in silence, footsteps echoed behind them.
A familiar figure rushed in.
"Mary! I'll protect you!"
Brandish shouted the moment she arrived.
"..."
"…What is she doing?"
Rain and Erza both turned to stare at Brandish—
with expressions that clearly said are you serious right now?
This woman… was she here to help, or just to embarrass herself?
"Huh?"
Only then did Brandish realize something was off.
There was no battle.
No chaos.
No immediate danger.
She felt two piercing gazes lock onto her.
Almost instinctively, she followed them—
and met Rain and Erza's looks, both staring at her like she was an idiot.
"Uh…"
At that moment, Brandish finally understood.
She'd completely overthought the situation.
…She'd just made a fool of herself.
"Well—uh—if there's nothing going on, I'll just, you know, head out! Hahaha—"
Laughing awkwardly, Brandish tried to slip away.
"Since you're already here, what's the rush?"
Rain sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Watch. She's receiving the remnant soul of the God of Time."
"…The God of Time?!"
Brandish's voice jumped an octave.
Rain glanced at her, confused.
"Why are you reacting like that?"
Her response was way too intense.
"It's not just a reception," Brandish said seriously.
"Mary's clan once had thousands of people. Because of this thing, she's the only one left."
"Doesn't that sound dangerous to you?!"
Erza's expression immediately tightened with concern.
…Then, subtly, relief.
She felt guilty for it—but she was relieved the one undergoing this wasn't Rain.
She felt sorry for Dimaria.
But compared to someone precious to her… Erza could only make one choice.
In the end, this was Dimaria Yesta's decision.
And outsiders could do nothing but watch.
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