“Your strength, it’s not something received from the ancient god, is it?”

“What?”

“I mean, the ancient god doesn’t descend on your body, or the power of the ancient god doesn’t flow in your blood. So, you become stronger and all that.”

Even as she spoke, Olivia’s voice gradually lowered.

Even if I think about it, isn’t this a bit much? However, I thought it would be better to bring up the topic while I had the chance to confirm it….

In response to Cryer’s subsequent reaction, Olivia wanted to strangle her past self just seconds ago for bringing up such a topic.

He seemed to sink into a deep thought for a moment.

His crimson eyes sank so low that they almost appeared pitch-black, and his lips, which had been tightly closed, parted, and the voice that flowed out was even lower.

“Other than the slave mark, the ancient god has given me nothing.”

That’s why Cryer’s strength increased, and as much as they become stronger, they have more things they can do.

His strength was entirely his own, not influenced by the ancient god.

So, as much as Cryer becomes stronger, the magicians who follow the ancient god will also have more things they can do.

He was still a slave to the ancient god.

Because he knew this fact better than anyone, he smiled self-deprecatingly and habitually scratched off the mark.

Olivia, who had been keenly following his fingertips with her gaze, suddenly stood up and approached Cryer.

Although she had decided not to approach beyond a certain distance due to the subtle and wavering air between them a while ago.

That determination had already crumbled in front of his expression, which seemed to want to break at any moment.

Olivia grabbed Cryer’s hand, which was roughly scratching near her collarbone as if tearing it apart.

She firmly held his hand, which had come down so easily, and pressed the mark with her other hand.

“I will erase it. I said. I can’t do anything about the god, but I will definitely erase this mark.”

When did she start seeing a shining fragment named hope, carrying the name of hope, instead of a piece of absurdity, without any basis, filled with unwarranted confidence?

Perhaps it was from the moment she pulled me into the secret room at the competition and brought up the absurd story.

I just didn’t realize it.

Just like the fact that she began to notice a woman much smaller than her in front of her than the one before.

“Yeah. I said I would do that.”

A vivid pain, like being burned, surged from the mark touched by Olivia’s hand, but Cryer showed no expression.

He just exerted a bit more force on the hand covering her hand.

Every time Olivia touched the mark or looked at it, she felt this burning pain several times.

However, Cryer couldn’t be sure.

Whether this pain is a psychological issue, feeling like an engraved thing, because she is the only one who said she would save me in this world.

Or is there something related to the mark in her.

If it’s the former, Cryer could never tell Olivia.
No, if she ever speaks, she’ll probably feel that he’s the only one.

And if it’s the latter…

He now recalled about half of the history book by Bolshevik that he had read.

Please, let some clues about the stamp or Bolshevik lineage come out from there.

There was no immediate option to share this fact with Olivia.

The moment he spoke about feeling unbearable pain, she would never look at or touch my stamp again.
She was sick of the stamp she wanted to erase immediately, but knowing that she couldn’t, she didn’t want to eliminate even the warmth that reached there.

His hand, not caught by Olivia’s, covered the hand of the woman whose stamp he pressed.

As he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, Olivia applied force from her toes to the tip of his foot.

Darn it, crumbling so easily with determination and decision.

Olivia, not at all princess-like, chewed on the coarse swearing she had become accustomed to through four wars.

Didn’t she say she would keep her distance? But, not a goldfish, and she easily forgot the recent events and approached him so closely?

Olivia, gritting her teeth, involuntarily took steps backward, but the sharp pain felt from her heels made her stop, and she even screamed unknowingly.

“Ouch!”
Sitting on the sofa, the hesitant woman, who was gradually moving away, caught the attention of Crier, who suddenly approached her.

The moment the shadow cast by him engulfed her entire body.

Unable to maintain balance and staggering, Crier fully supported Olivia.

With a small body comfortably accommodated in one arm, Crier looked at Olivia’s left foot, and before Olivia could react, he quickly lifted her.

“Huh?!” Olivia, who could only open her mouth in surprise, found herself sitting on the sofa where he always sat, without realizing it.

As if to imprint the fact that Crier was sitting there just a moment ago, the sofa still retained his cool scent and lukewarm warmth.

Leaning against the sofa as if she were entwined with him, Olivia reflexively straightened her waist.