Vol 4 Chapter 79: “The Trailblazer” (Vol 4: The Otherworldly Battlefield Arc)

“S-Rank Magic”

Horo silently observed the presence before him—the Goddess of Love—as she murmured softly.

After the battle with the priest Mistul, Sukui had brought Horo back to the inn and then headed to inform the lord about the incident.

Horo, overwhelmed by the immense consumption of magical energy, physical exhaustion, and extreme stress, collapsed into a deep sleep as soon as he returned to the inn.

And now, as promised, he had been summoned by the Goddess of Love.

“S-Rank magic refers to the ultimate magic directly bestowed by a god upon a human,” the goddess explained.

There were only five such magics in the world.

Of these legendary magics, Horo was currently aware of two:

The Hero’s Magic, which removes the growth limitations of individuals chosen as heroes.
The Holy Sword’s Magic, which empowers a hero to match the strength recognized by the Holy Sword itself.

Yet, both differed from the definition provided by the Goddess of Love.

“As of now, only one of the five S-Rank magics fits its true definition,” the goddess continued.

And that was the magic bestowed by the Goddess of Love herself.

“The other gods have perished, and the magics granted by the two new deities born afterward are not among the five S-Rank magics,” she added.

One of those two gods, the God of Death, provided the ultimate Immortality Magic.

“And now, I wish to grant you my magic,” the goddess declared.

“Why?” Horo asked, finally voicing the question that had lingered in his mind.

The Goddess of Love revealed her reasoning—it was because she had sensed within Horo the presence of emotions worthy of being called love.

That was true.

Horo already understood.

He was in love with Sukui.

This wasn’t the protective affection of a child for their guardian. Horo recognized it for what it truly was.

However, he also understood it wasn’t some extraordinary feeling.

While Sukui was special to him, the sentiment itself was something anyone could possess.
Horo had believed there was nothing remarkable enough about it to be chosen by the Goddess of Love.

“My master and I… we might not exactly be ordinary, but to think that such feelings could make me worthy of being chosen by the Goddess of Love, it feels…”

Horo faltered, hesitating slightly over the word “love.”

The innocent gesture, befitting his age, prompted the Goddess of Love to soften her gaze ever so slightly, as if to say it wasn’t unpleasant.

“Indeed, the feelings you hold right now might be emotions anyone could possess,” she acknowledged, affirming Horo’s words.

“But what lies beyond those feelings is different,” she continued, her tone suddenly cold, as if simultaneously recognizing and reproaching that difference.

Horo widened his eyes in surprise.

That meant his thoughts, his resolve, were known to her.

“The resolve born from your love is something that no one else, even among those who care deeply for others, has ever possessed. It is something that should stand in stark opposition to love itself,” the goddess said.

Yet, if that resolve had indeed sprung from love…
Perhaps that very unwavering determination was the true embodiment of love.

“That is precisely why I want you to have it.”

The Goddess of Love spoke, asserting that it would surely serve Horo’s resolve.

“I…”

Horo slowly opened his mouth to respond to her words.

“I respect the religion of love, but I have never worshiped the Goddess of Love.”

What one chooses to worship differs even within the same faith.

Recalling the words of the priest Mistul, Horo murmured his thoughts.

“While doctrines and believers may save people, gods do not save anyone.”

Magic is a gift from the gods.

Horo understood that it could save lives.

But that was all.

If gods were absolute beings, then why do they turn a blind eye to poverty, suffering, and discrimination?

If gods do not exist, such neglect could be understood.

But if they do exist—then they are no less than cruel beings.

“I see.”

The Goddess of Love easily acknowledged Horo’s words.

“The gods are not malicious beings, but they are creators who made humans for their own amusement. Their desire to observe how humanity evolves without their interference has always been strong.”

Thus, gods fundamentally do not interfere with humans.

That was the rule of the gods.

“We didn’t realize just how cruel that would be,” the goddess admitted.

“That’s certainly true,” Horo replied.

He was aware of it.

The inequalities of this world.

And the existence of those who try to overturn such injustice with their mortal power.

Just as Sukui despises the gods, Horo, too, could not bring himself to believe in them.

Perhaps the old Horo, as a follower of the religion of love, might have considered the Goddess of Love a target of his faith.

However, under Sukui’s guidance, he had learned to think for himself.

Through his exchange with the priest Mistul, he had reevaluated his own beliefs.

Horo, standing before the goddess now, could not bring himself to feel any admiration for her.

“I am not your believer. Does that not bother you?”

“Yes, it doesn’t matter,” the Goddess of Love replied calmly.

Her indifference to faith left Horo lowering his gaze.

It wasn’t that he wanted to complain.

However, when it came to the existence of gods, he couldn’t help but let his thorns show.

Perhaps it was because he knew Sukui’s life, far more than his own tragic past.

“Then, let me grant you the magic.”

Without waiting for Horo’s response, the Goddess of Love began to impart the magic to him.

“S-Rank magic,” she explained, “may sound impressive, but my magic isn’t particularly powerful. It won’t turn you into an extraordinary being like a hero or a demon king. Now, hold out your hand.”

As she spoke, the Goddess approached Horo slowly.

“What matters is your feelings. Let’s see… could you use earth magic for me?”

Horo, unsure of what she intended, allowed her to gently take his hand.

“Imagine something you love—no, not the person themselves, but the image. In your case, try envisioning his knife and create it,” she instructed.

“Master’s knife?” Horo asked in surprise.

Pouring love into it.

For magic from the Goddess of Love, this concept was perfectly natural.

Horo began channeling his vast magical energy into his hand.

To infuse feelings meant to commit wholeheartedly.

Horo compressed the earth, reshaping it not just to resemble the knife but to make it sharp, unyielding, and durable.

He had seen it many times.

He envisioned the knife that had once saved him.

“As I thought,” the Goddess murmured as she observed the process, as if confirming her suspicions.

It was painfully clear how closely Horo observed Sukui.

The knife, forged from immense compressed mass, was nearly identical to the real thing.

What lay there was pure, untainted.

A blade formed with murderous intent so beautiful it seemed almost artful.

A knife that existed solely to bring death.

That’s how certain it felt.

“The magic of love—I call this…”

“…Mutual Demise.”

As she spoke, still holding Horo’s hand grasping the knife, the Goddess did something unthinkable.

She plunged the blade into her own chest.

“Wha…?”

Horo, who had been distracted by the delicate magical process, needed a moment to process what had just happened.

“Why?!”

Blood spilled from her chest as it would from any human, even dripping from her mouth.

Horo, shaken and bewildered, shouted at her.

“Why?!”

The Goddess, however, repeated his words with a calmness that suggested she felt no pain.

Her expression was even more puzzled than his, as though she found his question unexpected.

Horo did not know.

He did not know that all the gods, out of boredom, had sought an end.

Nor did he know that among them, there had been one who chose to wait, believing in the eventual arrival of true love.

“It’s difficult to explain when you put it that way,” the Goddess said, looking at Horo.

No, not just now—she had always been watching her.

A weak, young, immature girl, born with no innate talent.

Unfortunate in both birth and upbringing, unloved and unrewarded.

Yet, this girl strove to repay the person who had saved her.

If her savior had been a decent person, it would have been simple.

If he had been a villain, it would have been even simpler.

But her savior was a madman, making an ordinary form of gratitude impossible.

The more she tried to understand him, the more she realized how vastly different he was from herself.

And yet, despite that, he had always been kind to her.

It was clear he expected nothing in return.

“If I had to put it into words,” the Goddess began.

Even so, precisely because of that, Horo had chosen to understand Sukui, dedicating herself to unending effort.

And she had decided—she would save Sukui.

“I don’t accept anything but a happy ending.”

As the Goddess whispered these words, her expression became unmistakable:

It was a smile overflowing with joy.

“Do your best,” she said finally.

With those last words, the Goddess slowly expired.

Horo had killed a god.