The Whisper of the God of Love (Part 5)

“What is that—”

Before Ewan could even finish his question, he heard the monster’s joyful, and deeply, deeply unsettling, cry.

“Ah—Master! I’ve found you!”

“Huh? And Mr. Ewan is here too.”

“Perfect. You can both… come and accept my love.”

A terrifying whistling sound ripped through the air as a massive, world-blotting shadow fell over them. A deformed, grotesque limb, as thick as a great, ancient tree, descended from the heavens, aiming to crush not only Anne, but Ewan as well, into a fine, red paste.

“Watch out!” Anne cried out, her voice sharp with a desperate urgency.

The metal sphere that had been lying dormant behind her instantly disintegrated and then reassembled with a deafening shriek, forming a triangular support structure of intersecting beams above their heads. The metal struts managed to block the massive limb, but they buckled under the immense, overwhelming pressure, twisting and groaning with a high-pitched screech, as if they were about to snap at any moment.

Anne gritted her teeth, the veins on her forehead bulging as she bent her knees, clearly struggling to withstand the cataclysmic blow.

“Young Master, run!”

“Run?” Ewan seemed to still be in a state of profound, system-crashing shock, his gaze fixed on the nauseating, eldritch monster. Just a moment ago, when the monster had called him “Mr. Ewan,” he had finally spotted it: nestled among the hundreds of writhing, screaming faces, at the very center of the monster’s pulsating abdomen, was a familiar, pretty face.

“—Elka. That’s Elka, isn’t it?”

What in the seven hells is going on? It’s only been a few hours. How did she turn into… this?

Not even a super-evolution is this fast! Did she start using nuclear wastewater to wash her rice? You’d have to sunbathe in pure, unadulterated radiation every single day to mutate to this extent!

“There’s no time to explain! Just go, Young Master!” Anne gasped, her breath coming in ragged, painful pants. “I’ll hold her off for now.”

“If I go, what about you?”

“Don’t worry.” Anne forced a strained, unconvincing smile. “I am one of the God-Chosen.”

Gleaming, liquid metal swirled around her, constantly changing shape before forming a solid, impenetrable wall that blocked a new volley of sharp, fleshy spikes from the monster.

“You see?” she said, her voice a little too bright. “When I can use my powers to their full extent, I’m very strong. This monster is no match for me.”

“Is that so?”

Ewan looked at the metal wall. The attack had indeed been blocked, but a massive, ugly dent had appeared in the wall’s surface, and it looked as if it could be breached at any moment. The monster’s power was terrifying.

“Yes. I would never lie to you, my dear Young Master.” Anne willed the metal wall to repair itself, the effort causing a new sheen of sweat to appear on her brow. She hid the deep, bone-weary exhaustion in her eyes and smiled. “You go on ahead. I’ll catch up after I’ve dealt with it. And then, I’ll be sure to capture you again. And I’m not bluffing this time.”

“I see. Well then, I guess I really should get going. I have no desire to be imprisoned by you again.”

Ewan nodded, turned, and took a single, deliberate step.

Anne watched his back, her expression momentarily dazed. Then, a sad, self-deprecating smile touched her lips.

This is for the best.

As long as the Young Master can escape, then—

“Did you really think I would do that?”

“Eh?”

Before Anne’s astonished eyes, Ewan suddenly spun around and strode back toward her with a look of grim determination.

“You can’t even lie properly. You’re slacking on your duties as a personal maid, Anne.”

“Eeeh?”

In the midst of her rare, flustered, and utterly adorable confusion, Ewan, without any warning, scooped her up into his arms in a classic, textbook-perfect princess carry.

“Y-Young… Young Master, you…”

A faint, lovely blush appeared on Anne’s cheeks, and she squirmed, trying to struggle free.

Smack.

Ewan landed a firm, resounding, and deeply satisfying slap on her bottom.

“Don’t move.”

In an instant, as if a red dye had been spilled, Anne’s entire face flushed a deep, beautiful crimson.

“If we’re going to run,” he declared, a roguish grin on his face, “we’re running together.”

“But… why?” Why are we running? And why in the world are you carrying me like this?

“Why? Why, that is—”

Ewan let out a light, confident laugh.

The world went dark again. A massive shadow fell over them as an even larger, more grotesque limb slammed down with the force of a falling mountain. But by the time it hit, sending a shower of dirt and rock into the air, they were already gone.

Shadow Step!

Ewan reappeared ten meters away, having dodged the attack perfectly.

“When it comes to running away,” he said, a handsome, yet deeply, deeply shameless look on his face, “I’m a professional.”

His expression was one of intense, unwavering concentration. He weaved and dodged, avoiding the monster’s relentless, chaotic attacks. The creature’s massive size was now a crippling hindrance. Although it could sprout countless limbs to pursue him, it could only watch as he gradually, expertly, increased the distance between them.

Anne’s eyes widened slightly. The Young Master carrying her in his arms was still the same Young Master. And yet, he was different from the boy in her memories. Something fundamental had changed. And that change… was making her heart, which she had thought was so full of “love” that it could feel nothing else…

…thump, just a little.

…

“NO—”

“MASTER! MR. EWAN!”

“PLEASE! DON’T RUN AWAY!”

“ACCEPT MY—LOVE!”

The monster roared, its voice a chorus of the damned, and a rain of deformed, fleshy limbs descended upon them.

Ewan took a deep breath.

“Anne, hold on.”

“Hm?”

Anne snapped out of her daze.

She saw Ewan’s face, now grim and determined, as he shouted—

“Hold your breath!”

“Eh?”

Anne froze for a moment in confusion, and then she saw Ewan leap high into the air.

In front of him, the small river flowed gently, its surface reflecting the sunlight like a thousand shimmering, silver fish scales.

Splash.

Ewan plunged into the cool water, still holding her tightly.

The massive, grotesque limbs followed close behind. But having lost their line of sight, they could only thrash about wildly, churning the river into a muddy, chaotic mess.

In the water, Ewan moved with the grace and agility of a fish, easily dodging the blind, flailing attacks. He seemed even more at ease here than he had on land.

Swimming LV6!

Do you have any idea what it means to have soaked in a river for a whole day and a night?! This is my element!

He was laughing triumphantly in his mind when he suddenly felt a pair of soft, smooth, and very strong arms wrap around his neck like a pair of panicked water snakes. Before he could even begin to enjoy the wonderful, intoxicating sensation, those arms… suddenly tightened with a desperate, life-or-death strength.

Hm? Anne?

His vision going dark from the lack of air, Ewan frantically looked down.

He saw Anne, her eyes wide with pure, unadulterated panic, her hands desperately clinging to anything they could find.

She looked like she was drowning.

Ah, I forgot.

Anne can’t swim.

“Honestly,” he thought with a long-suffering sigh, “you’re so capable most of the time. Why do you always mess up at the most critical moments?”

Ewan let out a helpless, bitter smile.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

Passing air.

…

Several hundred meters down the river, on a quiet, sandy bank, Ewan dragged Anne ashore.

She collapsed to the ground, coughing up the river water she had accidentally inhaled. Ewan leaned against a rock, sitting on the ground and gasping for breath, his lungs burning.

Escaping through a river while carrying another person—a person who couldn’t swim, no less—was, as it turned out, incredibly, soul-crushingly exhausting.

But thankfully, they had made it.

In the distance, the monster was still stabbing at the muddy water with its deformed limbs, like a petulant child trying to spear a fish with a stick. It didn’t look very smart.

Good thing it’s not smart. Otherwise, we would have been in big trouble.

Ewan let out a long, slow breath and looked at Anne, who, aside from a slight, lingering flush on her cheeks, seemed to be unharmed.

“So then,” he said, his voice serious, “what in the seven hells just happened, Anne?”