"Right, let's pick something harder this time…"
Anathasia folded her arms over her chest, her gaze sweeping across the commission sheets clipped beside the counter.
Nodding along, I skimmed through them as well.
"Goblin hunting… orc subjugation…"
"Oh!"
Anathasia suddenly reached out and snatched one from the board.
"Dragon Subjugation: Eliminate the earth dragon roaming near the ruins of Aeogos Village."
Her eyes lit up instantly as she shoved the sheet toward my face, pointing directly at the word dragon.
For a moment, I looked at the commission.
Then at her.
Letting out a quiet sigh, I pointed at the requirement listed below.
"You need to be at least gold rank for this," I said. "Or have five silver-ranked adventurers with you."
She immediately frowned, pulling the paper back.
"Tsk… why? I can handle dragons just fine."
Anathasia clicked her tongue, shaking her head before casually tossing the sheet into the air.
It drifted right into my hands.
"This is why I hate feat-based ranking," she muttered with a scoff.
"And there's no proper measurement system either… no magic tools, no crystals…"
She paused, her gaze lowering slightly as she rested a finger against her chin.
"Oh… right."
"This world doesn't use magic."
I raised an eyebrow.
"…What do you mean?" I asked, glancing toward the entrance.
Outside, a young boy in a robe stood with his eyes closed. A small flame flickered to life in his palm.
"…Then what do you call that?" I continued, gesturing toward him.
Anathasia followed my gaze, then lightly tapped her arm.
"They're using Traces,"
"Traces?"
"Yup," she twirled her finger lazily. "Think of them as the smallest leftovers of a system I made after the Great Recreation."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Basically… fragments."
"The lowest branch of something bigger."
"A system called The Authorial Rule."
A brief pause.
Then—
She suddenly snatched the commission from my hands and waved it toward the receptionist.
"Miss~ think we could take this one?"
My expression flattened instantly as I watched her walk up to the counter.
Around us, the other adventurers seated at their tables deliberately avoided looking in our direction.
Then—
The guild doors slammed open.
"Heh, those bastards don't even have anything on us."
A group of men strode in casually, heading straight for the counter while Anathasia was still trying to get the trembling receptionist to approve the commission.
Not wasting a second, I stepped forward and stood beside her.
My eyes tracked their movements—
Until the slim man at the front, two swords strapped across his back, their leader most likely, noticed Anathasia.
The group fell silent.
Then a slow smile crept across his lips.
The others behind him followed.
…How troublesome.
As expected, they started heading toward us.
His gaze never left Anathasia's back.
And for some reason—
I felt something in me tighten.
My veins tensed.
Without thinking, I materialized the axe Anathasia insisted on calling Gungnir, and turned toward them slowly, offering a small smile.
They froze.
Completely.
Their eyes locked onto the massive black axe resting over my shoulder.
Around us—
Chairs scraped.
Footsteps echoed.
One by one, the other adventurers stood and quietly made their way out of the guild hall.
No one said a word.
The men's eyes bulged as the weapon pulsed faintly—
The tentacles coiling around its handle slowly began to writhe.
Their mouths opened, then snapped shut just as quickly when Anathasia turned.
"See?" she said casually, folding the commission before letting it dissolve into thin air.
"Told you I could make it work."
I paused, glancing at her.
"…Already?"
She gave me a thumbs-up, grinning.
"Heh, yeah. I've got my own ways, y'know?"
Her grin widened.
"Who do you think I am?"
She suddenly went quiet.
Her eyes fixed on Gungnir before she pointed at it.
"By the way… what's with that?"
She glanced toward the group standing in the middle of the hall.
"And what's with them?"
The group flinched, recoiling as they took a step back the moment her gaze settled on them. Their leader, the slim man, finally managed to speak, his smile twisting awkwardly.
"Please… don't mind us…"
He glanced back at the others.
"Right…? We're just here to claim our rewards."
The men behind him nodded quickly, hands raised.
"That's right! We were just… waiting for you to finish," one added, his voice trembling.
Anathasia stared at them, arms crossed, one brow raised.
The air stilled.
Then—
"That so?" she shrugged.
"You got the guild's approval, right?" I cut in, tossing the axe toward her.
She caught it mid-air effortlessly, twirling it between her fingers before letting it settle, floating at her side.
"Yup. We're heading to Rania's home village… from centuries ago."
And with that—
We walked past them.
Their faces had gone completely pale.
Just before stepping out of the guild, I caught a few of their whispers.
"Those two…"
"…weren't human."
"…We could've died if we acted out," the slim man muttered. "That axe alone… it didn't look anything like any God's weapon…"
I simply shook my head and followed Anathasia outside.
—
Later—
We stood before the remains of cobblestone foundations.
Dozens of them.
"It's still standing after almost seven centuries," Anathasia whistled softly. "Impressive."
My eyes swept across the ruins, eventually settling on a couple of polished tombs beside a collapsed structure.
"Those…"
"Yeah," Anathasia replied, her voice quieter now as we approached.
She stopped in front of them as a bouquet appeared in her hands.
Tulips. Roses. A mix of different flowers.
She lowered her head slightly.
I stayed silent, following her lead as I bowed mine as well.
After a moment of silence, Anathasia finally opened her eyes, her gaze settling on the tombs before her.
"Radan Eunuella and Evangeline Eunuella," she murmured, the edge of her lips curving into a faint smile.
"Your daughter is doing well here. More than well, actually."
She let out a soft breath, a quiet laugh slipping out.
"Really… you'd have your minds blown if you were still here—watching your daughter change the entirety of Aegea."
Anathasia shook her head gently, lowering herself to one knee as she pressed her palm against the soil.
Almost instantly—flowers bloomed around us.
The ruined village slowly filling with life once more.
Then, she stood up again.
"Your daughter… Rania,"
"She's a good kid."
A gentle breeze passed.
Anathasia fell silent.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
My eyes narrowed slightly as I listened.
"I could've made a difference. Stopped it, even… and somehow, I still failed."
She lifted her gaze to the sky, eyes closing.
"Ah… I can't even use fate as an excuse…"
"It was supposed to happen, this and that… like I was writing things into some kind of script—when in reality, I was just playing at being a 'God'."
She lowered her gaze again, letting out a quiet breath.
"Pathetic… absolutely pathetic…"
Slowly, I stepped closer, reaching out to place my hand over her shoulder.
She stiffened, then looked back to me over her shoulder.
"Yeah…" she muttered, her shoulders slumping.
"My bad… I shouldn't dwell on the past."
"That's not what I mean, idiot," I cut in, gently pulling her toward me until her back rested against my chest.
My arms wrapped around her from behind.
She tensed for a moment, then relaxed.
Her hand came up, holding onto my arm.
"Then… what is it?"
A brief pause.
"I'm not trying to reprimand you or anything."
"I know that," she replied quietly, her grip tightening slightly.
A small sigh slipped from my lips as I buried my face against her hair.
"You're already living with the consequences of the past… isn't that enough?"
"Is beating yourself up over what already happened really still necessary?"
"I understand the guilt… but I also notice how you keep bringing it up—like you did something unforgivable."
My arms around her tightened slightly.
"We've been together for twenty years already, Anathasia…"
"I've watched you grow—from that girl who didn't know the difference between Halloween and Christmas ornaments…"
"To someone trying her best to do better."
"To someone who keeps everything to herself… because she doesn't want anyone else to carry what she's been carrying all this time."
She stayed silent.
But I continued.
"Forgive yourself already…"
"Haven't you been through enough?"
"At least… do it for your own sake."
"Not mine. Not for anyone else… but for yourself."
I felt her body press lightly against mine, slowly starting to relax.
"We all make mistakes…"
"Weren't you the one who told Rhea to live?"
"To separate your role from who you are?"
A pause.
"You may be God…"
"But before all that—aren't you just… Anathasia?"
Her body tensed at my words, trembling slightly as she nodded.
I didn't say anything else.
Instead, I pressed a soft kiss against her hair.
"You don't have to keep being God…"
"…isn't that why you turned away from being the ALL THAT IS?"